#fat!ranulf

[pangtasias-atelier]

Best Birthday Bash

I had an idea and it became this compromise since I didn't have the mental focus/span to flesh it out. So have this 2.5k story instead that I may or may not expand upon with each individual.

This was also inspired by tumbyrumblings writing since I love their style and wanted to try and emulate it.

_______

Fanning himself, Corrin leans his head back, resting against the counter. Chugging a bottle of water, he sighs. Picking at his shirt, the collar clinging to his neck, be pats himself with a paper towel. Checking his phone for the time, the day still has much to go with it only being 1pm. Several messages wishing him a happy birthday, Corrin smiles. Throwing a dinner, he forbade any gifts to him during this party. Why need a gift when they'll all definitely pale in comparison to the gift he has planned for himself. The oven beeping, he focuses back on his war plan of a feast, everything going perfectly so far.

At the same time, Kaden and Keaton are getting ready for Corrin's dinner party, both of them currently dressing. Both nearly immobile, getting ready without Corrin's help was proving to be a huge ordeal. Kaden is currently in just boxers, his ass straining against the fabric. Keaton has pants on, the clothes much larger than he thought.

Kaden has a large ass, his but losing any definition and resembling more like lardy squares. His thighs following suit, the press up against each other, walking an ordeal. His stomach is no slouch either, the container for his feasts dropping down to his mid thighs. 

Keaton has a larger stomach, his nearly reaching down to his knees. His breasts bigger than most womens', he still forgoes a bra, both of them sagging to the side. His body has an apple shape to Kaden's pear shape. Both of them are in the 600s, immobility getting closer.

"Hey, those are my pants!" Kaden yells, a flabby hand on his wide love handle. 

Keaton looks down, ears drooping. "It took me forever to put these on….," Reaching below his stomach, he struggles to reach his belt, gigantic gut in the way. 

"I'll do it," Reaching down, Kaden unclasps the belt. 

Unbuttoning the pants, Keaton shimmies out of them. Huffing, he steps out, leaving them on the floor and sitting down on the bed. 

"You can at least hand them to me!" Kaden shouts, hands crossed over his chest. 

"Too tired," Keaton whines, face flushed from taking off the pants. Grumbling, Kaden picks up the pair. Leaning down, his hand wobbles as he uses it to support himself. Stomach grazing the floor, he picks them up, now as tired as Keaton. Sitting on the bed, both of their bodies pressing up against each other, they sigh. 

"We really gotta get ready," Keaton comments, tongue sticking out. 

"Yeahhhhhhhhh. It starts soon and we still gotta drive," Kaden complains. "Help me get ready,"

"Fine. But you gotta help me," 

"Sure," Hands on his knees, Kaden huffs as he stands up, tired. Handing his pants to Keaton he places them on the floor for Kaden to step into. Kaden in place, he shimmies them up. Keaton struggles to shove Kaden's ass inside them. 

"You're ass is too huge,"

"Careful back there. Corrin is always delicate with me,"

"Well I'm not Corrin and we have to hurry," Kaden's ass contained, the pants outlining them perfectly, Keaton button them. "Now where are my pants?"

Kaden rolls his eyes. Opening Keaton's drawers, he finds them right away. "Get ready," Doing the same for Keaton ends up much easier. 

"Here's my shirt," Keaton hands Kaden a wrinkled shirt that he chooses not to comment on. The design is a simple black and red plaid print. Keaton lifts his hands up, the fatty arms dangling. "Hurry up, this is exhausting," Kaden slaps his gut in response. 

"It's not my fault you're too fat," The button up on, Kaden begins buttoning it. The process a bunch of fat squishing into fat, he takes breaks to rest his tired arms. All of it buttoned, Keaton's gut still shows, the shirt not quite fitting. 

"This is perfect. Corrin loves it when my gut shows," 

"Whatever. Now do mine," Kaden grumbles. His plain white button up proves easier with his smaller gut. 

"We're done!" Keaton shouts, proud of himself. 

"No we're not," Kaden shoves Keaton onto the bed, the mattress shaking along with his fat. A brand new pair of socks in hands, Kaden not trusting Keaton's slobbish ways, he gets on his knees. Getting then on along with a pair of black sneakers, the task nearly impossible for Keaton to do by himself, he pants. "Now help me up," Keaton grabs Kaden's hand, the two grunting. Kaden now up, Keaton does the same thing. 

"Now we're done!" Keaton shouts, tail wagging. 

"Yeah," Kaden groans, putting on clothes an ordeal for the two of them. "You're driving first,"

"My gut touches the wheel. You should drive first,"

"My ass hits the divider. And I already have the directions and nearby food, so you drive first,"

Keaton complaining, the empty kitchen seals the deal. "Where's the nearest place?" He asks as he grabs the keys.

Meanwhile, Yarne is at his small apartment, holding back tears. Close to Kaden and Keaton's size, Yarne is also nearing immobility, his cravings for Corrin's baked goods as wanton as the others.

"Nononononono," he repeats, the pants he planned to wear torn. All his searching only reveals no other pants to wear, the only other fitting size his sweatpants. Searching again, he ends up finding slacks. These ones far too big for him he scours for a belt. The pants a gift from Corrin, he wonders why they were so big. He blushes when it hits him. While Yarne's weight went a bit more to his stomach, his ass was no quitter, the meaty buttocks gaining weight alongside the rest of his body. 

Pairing it with a navy blue shirt, he slowly buttons it up, his wide gut in the way. The shirt buttoned, he unbuttons his pants and tucks his shirt. Buttoning up his pants again, he finds it all so constricting. He feels how his stomach pushes into his shirt, each outline and roll visible for all. Sighing, he heads to the train, hoping a seat will be available and also hoping that people won't stare like the other times.

Unlike Yarne's concerned state, Ranulf sits pretty in his house, fully dressed and eating. Embracing the lazy lifestyle, he lies down on his couch, eating a slice of pizza from yesterday. Wearing some jeans and a green shirt, Ranulf sighs as he finishes the slice. Patting his stomach, patting his stomach, he shifts to sit up. 

His ass straining against his pants, it's proportionally his biggest asset. His stomach rests on his thighs. Not Yarne's size, Ranulf still has a good grasp on mobility, a grasp he wants to keep for the near future. Though he does enjoy all the stuffing sessions he has with Corrin. Ranulf turns off the TV when he sees that his Uber is here. He smiles when their eyes widen, unused to seeing a literal fat cat.

Rushing, Skrimir complains and mutter to himself the entire car ride. Having to get a last minute resizing for his suit left him in a grumpy mood. Despite previously teetering on the edge of obesity, Skrimir was now in said territory. Despite that, his suit fits him immaculately, his expanse completely covered. Everything went equally on Skrimir, his entire body bulky.

Checking his phone once again, Corrin smiles at the time. "Soon," he thinks, greedily rubbing his hands from seeing the food on the table. Taking a quick shower to clean off the day's grime and sweat from cooking all day he sighs from relief. 

Buying a large secluded house and inviting all of his boyfriends over, initial awkwardness be damned, soon he'd have it all. 

Finishing and changing, he wears light layers, Corrin always preferring less clothing. A simple t-shirt and jeans with sneakers, he grins as the first person arrives, the doorbell buzzing. 

Calming himself before he opens it, he smiles as Skrimir rushes inside. Embracing Corrin in a bear hug, he lifts him off the ground, Corrin pressed up against his fat. 

Sniffing the air, Skrimir visibly perks up from the smell of Corrin's food. 

"We still have to wait for everyone else," Corrin says, breaking Skrimir out of his trance. 

"Of course," 

Thankfully the wait shortens as someone else rings the doorbell. Opening it, Corrin finds Ranulf. "Guess I'm not the first one," Ranulf smiles as Corrin hugs him. "Whatever you cooked smells damn delicious," He laughs when he sees Skrimir. "A bit overdressed, no?" 

Another doorbell quiets their little quarrel. Corrin smiles at Yarne, a face red. "Sorry I'm a bit late, had to walk from the train station," 

Corrin laughs, giving Yarne a kiss. "You should've told me so I could've picked you up," Ushering him inside, Corrin scours for Kaden or Keaton. Closing the door, he doesn't miss the way Skrimir's eyes nearly bulge out from seeing the wide Taguel. 

Having them sit in the living room for the while, Corrin doesn't catch the slightly dead small talk, his brain overstimulated from being so close.

"I'll get it!" He shouts before apologizing, realizing his volume. Opening the door, Corrin beams at his last two guests having arrived. The two fighting to see who gets in first, they only stop when Corrin scowls at them. Kissing Keaton first, he gives Kaden a kiss second. 

Letting them inside, he smiles as Skrimir keeps glancing at the other four, clearly the skinniest of the bunch. 

"Dinner is ready and still warm," Corrin announces, everyone's attention transfixed on his message of food. 

Using his secret ingredient in his pastries for all of today's feast, Corrin also exponentially increased the quantities. The addictive spice already taking hold of them long ago when they first met Corrin, the heavy scent of it catches all of their stomachs' attention. Everyone seated, Corrin brings out the food, joy visible with every step. A loud happy birthday thrown his way, Corrin doesn't care, the best part of his birthday about to begin.

His own food not laced with the stuff, he doesn't even look at it, only hungry to see everyone else stuff themselves. He hungrily stares at everyone else, waiting for that first bite to secure their fate.

And then it happens.

Mouth parched, Corrin's focus constantly shift, unsure of who to stare at. Unable to get a perfect picture, he does get too see them all struggle, the small rational part of their brain attempting to resist. 

Watching Keaton, Corrin marvels at the way his hands make quick work of the food. Hands working faster than he thought possible, Keaton shoves the food into his mouth. Several specks of food ending up on his face instead of his mouth, Corrin's focus shifts to Keaton's plaid shirt. His body bulging, the button strains against it. The popping buttons disturbs no one, Corrin the only one to really notice. Hairy chest shown off, Corrin stands up, unable to restrain himself. Standing behind Keaton, he reaches around, grabbing his hefty chest. Fondling them in his hands, he lifts them, feeling their heft. Keaton ignores him, food more important. Placing his hands on Keaton's stomach, he presses down. His hands sink in the yoga ball of fat. 

"So good," He whispers in Keaton's ears. "There's more food," Keaton's eagerness kicks in despite his largening hands. Another plate consumed, the deftness of his hands lessen, his body gaining more weight.

A loud tear catches Corrin's attention. Turning around, he catches sight of Kaden's pale rear. Feet leading him behind Kaden, he rakes his hand through Kaden's hair, ruffling the soft plush hair. A hand digging its way past Kaden's torn boxers, another on his thigh, he squeezes them. Kaden squirms, unused to such forcefulness from Corrin.

"So obedient," He wheezes, hot breath on Kaden's neck. "Let's get you nice and immobile," Hands exploring Kaden's body as he sits on his knees, Corrin pants. His breathing quickens as Kaden only eats more, the already large chair struggling to contain his ass. 

A whine steals his attention next. Yarne the culprit, Corrin laughs at his predicament. The food too enticing, he continues to shovel it in with one hand. His other hand tries to unbuckle his belt, the loose pants no longer loose. Corrin helping, he unbuckles the belt himself. Yarne's guy surging forward, he rubs the round surface. Yarne's embarrassment still slightly there, he slows down his eating. 

Corrin tugs Yarne's ear, supplying more food as he opens his mouth. "Who said you could stop?" An eye closed as he chews, Yarne complies, the delicious taste reeling him back in. "That's a good big bunny,"

"What about me?" Corrin turns around from Ranulf's voice. T-shirt straining, he leans back against his chair, hands resting on his belly. Corrin by his side in an instant, he sits on Ranulf's lap, a whine leaving his mouth. Corrin grabs plates, hand feeding them to him. A couple of huffs leaving his mouth, Corrin silences them all with more food. 

"You wanted my attention," Ranulf nods his head, heterochromatic eyes transfixed on each new forkful Corrin brings him. Pressed up against Ranulf, Corrin shuffles, rubbing against him. When he stands back up, the laced food does its job, Ranulf caring more about it than Corrin.

A chair falling, Corrin smiles, wondering who broke their first. His smile turns upside down, a frown marring his face when he sees Skrimir standing. Skrimir facing him, his eyes widen. Suit absolutely stuffed with his weight, Skrimir's getaway ends up finished with a tackle from Corrin.

"If you didn't like the food, let me give you some more," Forcing bread down Skrimir's mouth, Corrin leans on him. "I made a lot of food. I'm sure you'll find something you like," Straddling Skrimir, he continues his torrent of food. Skrimir the skinniest by far, he intends to help fix that. 

The mini stuffing session with Skrimir reaching an end, Corrin gets off. The desired results reached, he smiles as Skrimir rubs his stuffed stomach, his suit torn. Skrimir nods his head when Corrin asks him about seconds, Corrin helping him sit back down. 

Standing up, Corrin marvels at the sight. Five fattening men desperate to stuff themselves with more food. The table near empty, it becomes a fight to see who can grab it first. Unfortunately for all of them, their weight pins them to their chair, unable to reach the centerpiece, a 3 tier chocolate cake. 

Reaching it himself, he smiles at their faces, a mixture of panic and fear, unsure of what Corrin will do with the cake. 

"Who wants it the most?" The innocuous question poses, Corrin inhales, lungs at near full capacity from his cheer at the cacophony of voices. He grins, all five rendered needy under his special ingredient.

"Best birthday ever," He moans, five happy to be fattened men under his care now.

[revegeries]

“Hey, you know who else’s a furry?” Wiggles eyebrows, you can’t see cause his hat’s over them, buT!

[lunar-renegade]

they're cuddling .. ….. . they're soft and in love . rambles below the cut

the general consensus of the groupchat is that fantasy guys sleep naked . soren gets a huge shirt tho bc he doesn't have the vibes of someone who would be comfortable naked no matter how much he likes u. he also gets socks because he's part lizard and I have decided that means he has ice cube feet and kept waking ike and ranulf up in the middle of the night with his freezing toes until ike knitted him a pair of lumpy socks. he wears them every night.

in this image u can also see my "soren isn't white" agenda and my "ike tummy" agenda. he's a healthy guy who eats and drinks enough so you know he has a nice sexy fat cushion around his muscles . let him be THICC

I checked the community guidelines and this SHOULD be fine bc there's no genitals or nipples female-presenting or otherwise occurring in this image. just some good healthy ass .

[ashendalia]

Wait, Ashe, can I get all the Mithra lore?

YES LET ME SEE WHAT I RECALL :)

____

Ok so Mithra is a relatively younger cat laguz(like early 20s human appearance-wise), who was put into the slave trade as a very young child. She was purchased by a rich family but instead of using her as a slave, they basically turned her into their family pet. Since this happened at such a young age, she didn't know any better and thought the family was just being nice and took on the role quickly. She didn't even realize or understand how inhumanely she was being treated most of her life.

Because of her upbringing, she ended up growing up with their laguz form more like a big fluffy fat domestic cat rather than the lean muscled cat forms like other cats. She had never seen other laguz though, so she didn't know she was an outlier. She also barely understands how to fight or defend herself due to being punished whenever she so much as slightly scratched anything or anyone, so she's basically dead weight on a battlefield.

So, eventually her family ended up in a scandal and lost all of their riches. Instead of bringing Mithra when they escape and run off, they just abandon her with the rest of the things they couldn't carry with them. She of course doesn't understand that they aren't coming back and waits at the home until she's chased out into the wild.

Of course she doesn't know how to hunt, doesn't know how to fight, and doesn't understand why people hate her all the sudden, so she ends up wandering around looking for help because she's scared and doesn't know anything about the world outside the house she grew up in. Ike and his group come across her barely managing to stay alive and take her in because she has no where else to go, and she accepts because these are the first nice people she's encountered in a long while.

Once she gains enough strength back as well, she starts walking around in her cat form more often too, which surprises everyone when they see how different she looks from Ranulf and Lethe. Mithra has no idea how to interact with other laguz and is scared of most of them, so she ends up staying near humans more often at the start. Of course, she still doesn't fully understand why some humans hate her too, so she gets scared by some of the group easily too.

She ends up getting attached to Oscar almost immediately because he's always kind to her and doesn't seem to mind her little gestures for attention. She also eventually ends up getting to know Mordecai because he's always very calm and gentle around her. Muarim is a rocky relationship for a long while because of how different their upbringing in the slave trade, but they eventually come to an understanding and develop a friendship as well.

Mithra eventually figures out how she can be useful on the battlefield; she doesn't have much strength but she's surprisingly fast and can be a decoy or carry people to safety if needed. She also elects to stay with Ike's group and continue to help them, though it's pretty much because of Oscar.

Oscar basically gained a new family member who is also a cat

____

I think that's the gist of it that I have down solid so far!

Except for I think Mithra and Muarim or Mordecai could have a paired ending but I have nothing concrete for either lol

[lochroma]

[SMASH ANNOUNCER VOICE] IKE (for the character meme.... >:3)

YEAAAAAAAAAAA

How I feel about this character: I LOVE HIM SO MUCH AAAHDJEHDH!!!!🥺💖💖💖💖 one of my absolute fave comfort characters of several years

All the people I ship romantically with this character: def ike/ranulf, uhh (taps url)- but more on that later, lowkey ike/link and ike/roy based on fanart i saw but that was like. years ago lmao. YES its mostly cross shipping and i can live with that

My unpopular opinion about this character: that he's not stupid!! he actually does think quite a bit and he's intelligent as we can see in game, he's just very blunt and logical about his spoken observations and doesn't talk much outside of what's necessary, at least to people he's not especially closed to anyways.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: can we PLEASE get more dumb siblings content in canon?? please?? im a very desperate middle child just here to see some Fun Family Times(tm), the good and the bad. also i wish canon would've allowed ike more fleshed out interpersonal relationships with the rest of the mercenaries bc you KNOW he cares about the og mercenary crew with everything he has (minus shinon. we don't talk abt him tho 😤)

My non-romantic OTP for this character: ikesoren probably!! in my heart, they have a more familial relationship and soren actually grows emotionally into being dependant on other individuals outside of ike, like. healthy ways to cope with childhood trauma!! also, i feel like he would've been part of the family from the start, had he returned with ike to the village when they were kids.

my OTP: hh. ikemarth,,, and im both sorry and very much not sorry. in a perfect world, the bunches of shitty, f*jo-written fics and artworks don't exist and only ppl who understand the characters' real personalities are allowed to create content. that's how it is, sorry!

my cross over ship: a bold assumption that im not stuck in crackship hell! this is the hill im buried under tho. (aka, ikemarth again)

a headcanon fact: FAT IKE!! fat greil sibs are real and canon. i played tellius myself i know how it goes.

[chubbyheroesworthyheroes]

5, 7, 10, Ike and Ranulf, Ike over feeds his cute cat boy and teases him about it constantly

5) Stuffing/feeding/etc.7) Feeder/feedee relationship 10) Humiliation 

This is nowhere near as long as it deserves to be for how long its been sitting here, but I hope this is still enjoyable! Also, I apologize if this isn’t really “humiliation”, I just have a hard time seeing Ike do anything more than very gentle teasing.

—

After leaving Tellius, and despite the traveling they did, things had calmed down significantly for Ike and Ranulf. They didn’t have to answer to anybody; no kings, no employers. No more wars to slowly eat away at them. Any work they did was purely of their own choice, and at this point, both of them tended towards avoiding anything that required fighting – they helped small villages in their fields or rebuilding things in town, simple jobs that paid just enough or got them room and board for their stay.

It was vastly different from what they both knew back in Tellius, but it was nice. Life slowed down from the frantic pace it had been for years. They got to discover new places, new people. As Ranulf often joked, they got to stop and smell the roses – sometimes quite literally, and it was refreshing to be able to do something so quiet and gentle.

Of course, as life slowed down, so did they. They got to enjoy things like a lazy day of nothing much at all, and considering they both had pretty big appetites, food was also added onto that list of simple pleasures that they were getting to indulge in.

However, it was pretty clear who was being affected by the more sedentary lifestyle the two had found themselves enjoying.

While Ike could pack away more food than Ranulf, he tended to remain more active because he genuinely enjoyed doing so. He still practised his swordplay, did the bulk of many of the odd jobs they picked up when needed – which tended to be a lot of manual labor – and kept up a semi-regular routine for himself. Ranulf, on the other hand, had embraced the lazy cat lifestyle with open arms. He still pulled his own weight, of course, but Ike didn’t mind doing more work on his own if it meant that the Cat got to relax. And, speaking of weight, Ranulf certainly had a bit more of that to go around these days.

Lazy mornings saw ranulf still in bed for some hours after Ike had already gotten up, triangular ears twitching at the noises of the day as he awoke. Ike would get them something to eat from whatever was available where they’d stopped for a time. Honestly, most of their funds seemed to go towards food and meals, as Ike always ended up going more than a little overboard. Not that it ever went to waste between the two of them. They’d have their breakfast, chatting on and off; plans for the day, where they were headed next, or if they needed to look around for a little work depending on how their gold was holding up. As the two conversed, they ate – leisurely plowing through the spread of food laid out before them.

The two would eat their fill, but usually have some left over. Considering they didn’t stay anywhere permanently, it wasn’t easy to keep any extras before they went bad, so, even if they were full, they kept going. More often than not, Ike pushed the extra food onto Ranulf. The Cat would put up some superficial complaints about being too full, but Ike caught that glint in his eyes; the greedy look of someone who’d gotten comfortable with being spoiled. And Ike was all too happy to oblige him.

Ranulf had always been handsome to him – beautiful, in many lights – but his attraction had admittedly deepened once the Laguz had started to put on weight. Cats were always so small and lithe, made up of flexible, lean muscles. It suited them well in combat, but being outside of battle? Ike enjoyed the feel of something soft, pliant; something he could dig fingers into, gently or rough. While shifted, Ranulf had a natural softness to him on account of his fur, especially on his belly. But now? It was all over, shifted or not. His face was round and cherubic, a rosy tint in his cheeks even if he had been doing anything. Thin limbs had filled out gradually, little by little; his upper arms weren’t all that big, not even as large as Ike’s, but they had a delightful jiggle to them now that always grabbed Ike’s attention. His pecs had puffed up and were quickly growing into soft breasts, resting lightly above the cute, pudgy potbelly he’d developed. The real change had come lower, Ranulf’s hips, ass and thighs all ballooning outwardly into an incredible pear shape.

Ike loved it, actually had trouble keeping his hands off his partner, and Ranulf knew it.

On days that they could just have to themselves, which was quite a few now, they often stayed in bed for most of the day, exploring each other. Ike would often close his eyes, using his hands and mouth to travel over the soft swells and valleys of the Cat. Tongue and teeth searching out stiff nipples and the plush flesh that he could sink his face into. Rough fingers and palms changing up from ghosting touches to squeezing and full on grabs at pliant flesh. And Ranulf lapped up the attention without a second thought, even encouraging Ike to take things a step further.

Ike wasn’t very good at proper teasing. That was really more Ranulf’s area. Still, he’d do his best to pepper it in, murmuring in his lover’s ear about what a big, lazy house cat he’s turned into, reinforcing the image by feeding him more and more as they continued. That soft little belly Ranulf had would round out in a warm dome, inching out further as Ike pushed more food onto him – just a little more of his favorites, one more bite of this or that, better not let all this extra food go to waste, right?

By the end of it all, the Cat was always a hot, stuffed mess. He’d moan and groan, ears tucked down and tail lazily wrapped about Ike’s waist or arm, but despite his melodramatic complaining, he’d always be smirking smugly like the fat cat he was; preening at himself and his growing weight.

[darkshimmeringworld-blog]

Wapping (Bollocks)

Pretty poppet, meet me by the chicken cottage. I wants the red head. I wants the red head. Pipe down. Consecrated night of illusions, secret chicken cottage mason lodges. Coven cottage dreams. Breadcrumbs. I had an arguement with my friends. They dish it out but cannot take it. I retreat to an imaginary world. I have pretentious thoughts. I have the Yves Klein Blues. Curling my lips at the moon. Soliciting false hope in the light of long dead stars. I sow language demonically. Reverse word breadcrumbs that lead into a forest. A yard with lunatics. St. George-in-the-East and McDonalds to the south. Gatekeepers of the Highway, Gog and McGog. Old King Ludd. Gunge. A deep fat fryer pariah. Roadkill in chip shops. Battered pigeons, battered hedgehogs, half a battered squirrel, the homeless Heston Blooming-fool, bargin in to boil rats in vats of searing fat. Uncharter’d meats. Pipe down. When was the last time I climbed a wall? I change the tense I write in. I changed the tense I wrote in. I change the tense I write in. I walked along the Highway. Rented out by the French Government. Fleur-de-Leases. Ghost houses. Ancient brasses. The French Disease. Surplus foreground, surplus background, surplus horizon, surplus everything. The entire fucking universe is frivolous. The River Lea is bloody marvellous. Opening ceremony. Bucks fizz, whizz kid, alco-popstar-prick. Staple diet of pork scratchings dipped in Manuka honey. Weaponised almonds. Parrot. You are my foil. My tin man. Parrot. Fake imaginary parrot. Imaginary animatronic parrot. Whatever. We need each other. You need my insane thoughts to exist. And you exist to keep my insane thoughts in check. Come in parrot. Shunned by my pretend talking parrot. Aerosol can man. Smashing a bottle of Captain Morgan over Piers Morgan’s fucking face. Polish man in pub garden telling me about munchkins mix-up. Job interview at the Leftorium. It all went horribly right. Pic-n-mix-up. Pipe down. Sky vaulting, sky vaulting, sky vaulting, sky vaulting, sky vaulting, sky vaulting, sky vaulting, sky vaulting, sky vaulting, sky vaulting, sky vaulting, sky vaulting, sky vaulting, firmament. Pipe down. Breadcrumbs.

One caveat with that cravat, it used to be the Captain’s cat. Token Somalian. Robert Mappelthorpe. Bogmanagers. immobile archaic juts. we call them things headstones. I am universal flotsam. Floating up the River Lea. Kraken! The aberration in the light was not in fact a sea monster. It was Tatlin’s titfuck revenge. An Anish Kapoor play thing. A double clef with a disability. A gigantic demented saxophone fighting itself. A roller coaster delineated by spirograph enthusiast at ayahuasca ceremony. It looked like an ampersand & ampersand one man band & ampersand one man band vomiting steel across what once was hinterland in a jaunty rude solo interlude & I ask the ampersand: Doest thou stand here to fuck time? I wandered the windswept plains. I took refuge in Zaha Hadid’s vagina stadium. I wrote: I am here in the Olympic Park. It looks like a vajazzled Chernobyl. My mind is fertile atomic logic. Objections are simple. Redundant description redundant. Redundant description redundant. Pipe down. 

(Gunge decanting weirdness in the countryside line here) 

Advert for the countryside: Get closer to nature (Get closure on nature). Jerusalem is mine. Holy fucking hell. The Pope spits out his tea. The celebrated celibate. Is an ornate monkey. Order of the Capuchin Capuchins. Cappuccino please. Alpha coffee male. Parrot: “Wovon man nicht sprechen kann, darüber muss man schweigen” Epic Eccie Epping Forest. Hangman’s Pill. This has been communicated to you in a blindfolded waltz. I am not in control of what I say. It unspools, from my mouth, like a yarn, which is why, we call it, a yarn. Yawn, pipe down. Lawns. Castigated dogs on the horizon of washing lines welping in ylang ylang scented beatings. Over the hills, an Auld Pub. Inside. Old man. He had a whole disorderly repertoire of falling over. Backwash of whiskey spit had cauled over his face. Grave-flirting cunt. Sir Osis of the Gelwaz. A bar-stooling throne. A crackling crown of bloody skull fragments. His Kingdom all crashing down. He dusted off his woes. He warned me of the urinals. Do not go in there. Weird piss cult. The constipated conspiracy theorist: It was an inside job! My dream shop, a list of things it sells: A conspiracy running the entire length of the Greenwich Meridian Line, the Holy Grail made out of a Christian's skin, infinite iconoclasm, magnifying glasses for midgets with ivory handles crafted from pygmy elephant tusks, new imagined noses, transformation parables sewn onto a human heart, rare cough syrup, antique ashtray from Nazi Germany, a Unabomber Schott jacket, rare CD of Jim Jones singing the greatest hits of Tom Jones, a limited edition John Wayne Gacy Island, Thunderbirds toy set, the smell of petrichor and tobacco, a cup that overfloweth with witty barm, balloon canisters sold with park bench (this included free of charge) and nineteen frosted bones. It’s very contrived. It is all set up. There was no let up, to unperceivable things. A man looking like Robert Mappelthorpe, drifted into things. From where I do not recall. He told us of the snapping turtles, and catfish of the Lea. Of dreams of being an artist, and his creosote modernist sculptures that littered the flooded gravel pits of Essex. Of his troubled youth and blazing memories of family feuds. Of running away from it all. Time wasted navel gazing in Lower Nazeing, alone but for the ghosts of Odo from Ranulf, brother of Ilger, two free men and half a fishery. The puissant king of Nazeing. Tethered to a tree. Rooted to a dying tree. He thought he broke free. He had it all once but now he is dead. Pissant. Did you see the frog?Missing posters of Gunge: Last seen kicking a Hari Krishna to death in the head shouting Shanti Shanti Shanti Shanti Shanti Shanti. He fled the scene. He lined his pockets with as many jam doughnuts that would fit and waded onto the railway tracks. He was never seen again. There was no body. Could be jam, could be blood. We will never know. On the scene: A wasp, dead, burrowed into a sausage roll sarcophagus. A mystery. What did the Ninth Legion have for dinner? Mange tout, Brute?

The Cereal Vapist. Leaves a bad taste in Shoreditch.

the paranoid weird dreams i used to have of my friends flat in maryland. why is he called gunge? fatbergs. tube of genius cream cream. apply in topical area. if irritation or burning sensation shout at it tell it to pipe down! Chewing on some mugwort that grows by the velodrome. that there thing that came out of that there bigger thing kill it and that thing that came out of the thing of the bigger thing kill it too

a group of women piercing their hearts with daggers

Parrot: “Wovon man nicht sprechen kann, darüber muss man schweigen”

Memory palace Weatherspoons. So many doors.

If a prism, if a forest, do occur, in an image, in your mind, with trees, black and without leaves, it is winter. How do you feel? Stalactites, stalagmites, Ludd-ites. Spiralized styrofoam monsters stylised as tentacled octopi. Redundant description abundant. Synonyms and antonyms mingling in the garbage bins. I have thoughts but no words. I have words but no thoughts. I have vacant images. An industrial swearer. A Henry Ford Production Line of Fuck Lines. An absolute bell-end. Carefully reverse your vehicles over the heads of small minded men. I’m a bum note mate. I’m a dicky heart. I’m an insatiable loss. I’m a fortified wanker. Breadcrumbs. Pipe down. I am Onan the Barbarian. I am the Olympic tosser. Weaponised fucking almonds. Nuts. An EDL man. Dressed as St. George. He says it is all King Vortigern’s fault. He laments Broken Britain. Says imperialism is in, he saw it on his porcelain. I tell him: There are two dragons underground. One is red. One is white. They are fighting each other. This, is why your house is falling down. He tells me to pipe down. Crusade Crusoe! The Man Who Was an Island Mentality Nationalist. The Man Who Was a Complicated Pacifist. Says he likes shitting on Persian rugs. That’s all. I decide to leave. Up chalk streams to the Olympian Palaces of Excess. King Vortigern, leftovers, Brexit mercenaries, athlete villages. The unbecoming of a potentially good thing, now passed, the faint departing music of opportunity denied. A marching band of ideas disappearing forever into an invisible tunnel. The doldrum winds of inertia winding down. Silence, deafening silence, silence, deadening silence. The erection of the pleasure dome, damnation to the libraries, elation at the pleasure dome, death at the grass roots, cessation of the spaceship games and then stagnation of the pleasure dome, a nation full of funeral homes and a country in a come down. The Olympic mirage villages, all lullabies and alibis. Its not a pyramid scheme, its a ziggurat enterprise. My brain is sludgy. Your grotty hands are on the shiny things. Pipe down. Macaroon breadcrumbs. Fennel scented cologne from Damascus. Damaris Page wearing Damask Rose. A glaucous macaw. Chewing on Cicely with whores from Macau. Fighting for gold with gymnasts from Beijing. Born in the trench of fools. Wench for sale, wench for sale! Pieces of silver. Podiums. Ahh, many times laddy, have I sat in the afterglow of a witty remark. Filigree words sopping and charming, unspooling from the mouth in effortlessness. Never diminishing after being spoken, but saturating the past in a gilded ambience that when looked back on radiates like the long dead stars that still twinkle at night in far gone space. A crop of bubbling daisies or whatever those flowers are that pavement sprout. Cockney pagans, kicked out by new religion, that built pristine puritanical palaces atop their old school foundations. For whom the bells toll. Are thoughts real? Waiting for the gold. Waiting for the gold. This reverse solipsism hurts my brain. Phlegmatic Father Thames, spittle banks and morsels of clay. Fuelling mad thoughts, another, again, more, or less, lucid, or unreal, than that hill, that I sit on, than that gold I think up, or the gold, that wanes. Vanishes. Evaporates. That was spunked away. The Road of Excess. A sketch for tomorrow. Drawn yesterday. I was dreaming as a voice, refracted in my pint. It said: Whatever I do, I do not repent, I keep pissing against the moon. Signed, Flea. Niches for imbeciles and alcoves to waste gold. Amusements for Affluenza victims of the 21st century, a quarantine zone, a regeneration scheme, reclaimed land, Chelsea Flower Show doped up like a Russian Olympiad, an East End Genocide, Cockneys blowing bubbles, in the marshy reeds, moved out, moved back in again, a hokey cokey organised by porn barons, the erotomania of starchitect visions, the spaceship landing, soldiers on rooftops, Wind in the Willows, Bobby Moore, a Piper From the Gates of Porn, he is pissed off, Hung Up on a Team. Nine days upside down, from that tree. The cockney dildo draft. In, out, in, out, shake it all about. The Pornographers Phallacy: Iconoclasm in the club shop. Effigies of dry rot. In the board room, they rip flesh off each other, madly. And rip off Dr. Faustus, badly. The shadow of glory. Shadows and floodlit glories. The spectre of Super Sunday. Escape to China with Felix Magath, do not say his name in a stadium, it is considered bad luck, you will get fired. Allusion illusion. Allusion to illusions. Layers upon layers upon layers upon layers up layer upon . . . kaleidoscopic derision. Pipe down. Emulsified shirts, and calcified dirt, and a crucified cat and sewer rats, in a plastic six-pack beer packaging, artificial, multi-straight-jacketed rat king demise, all drowned together, floating amongst the coat hangers, a bicycle, and a myriad of used condoms. God’s bawdy house. Up in the sky, the cloud was full of nihilism. The sun, full of itself. His bad first impression, was his bad last impression. Art is new age alchemy. Transmutation, transmutation. Arthur write this: Handle conspiracy with care. Rheumatoid hands and lizard people. David Icke. Up on the vivisection fable. The garbage vans were hijacked, the LED screen were loaded up with obscene images. Information Jihad in this green and pleasant land of grey.

It looked like a vajazzled Chernobyl.

What a load of pretentious rubbish.

Pipe down.

[pangtasias-atelier]

After Party: Ranulf

All smut content will be tagged #risque

The second of the six chapters is done. This one isn't as explicit as Skrimir's, but it is still explicit.

Kinda wanted a loving route but that didn't happen asdfodmdj but that'll be for Yarne probably

Not entirely pleased all the way with the smut, but it's a start? I still have my first ever written stories, first non-kink and I think also still have my first wg, story and those are super rough compared to now, so I can at least say that'll probably get better lol

_______

"So nice and full," Rubbing the seated Ranulf's stomach, Corrin ruthlessly shakes it every once in awhile. Liquid sloshing around, Corrin smiles with each pained breathe Ranulf lets out. 

Ranulf was never really one to go out and grab his own meal. He found pleasure in teasing Corrin, claiming being famished in hopes of stirring him to feed him. It always worked, Corrin desperate to see him gain weight. After his little birthday happening, Ranulf's teasing was still there. But Corrin was now ultimately in control, Ranulf soon immobilized. Corrin originally had Ranulf on a huge custom bed before Ranulf crushed it during a feeding session. He was either lying down on his back or sitting up on his ass, the gargantuan mounds a lovely playtoy for Corrin.

"I would appreciate a bit of kinder treatment," One eye closed as a particular shake feels like a tsunami is forming in his stomach, Ranulf burps. Midshake, Corrin lifts up Ranulf's stomach. His mop of hair barely visible by Ranulf with his body in the way, he groans as Corrin continues lifting it. As if a rocket, his stomach only goes higher, Corrin's lithe figure belies his draconic strength. Eyes shut for the inevitable descent, the stormy riptide in his stomach jolts him as Corrin drops his stomach with no warning, an audible slap sounding. 

"What would you prefer?" Corrin asks.

"A belly rub would be nice," Eyes drooping, Ranulf attempts a stretch but can't, tired gasps only coming out from trying to move. "I'm just so big and full," He smirks as he sees the desired effect on Corrin, lips being licked. "I don't think I'll ever be able to put on clothes again. Not that I mind," Hands resting on his moobs, Ranulf rubs himself, face red, eyes intently watching how Corrin's breathing quickens. 

"Then let me help you," Corrin standing behind Ranulf he offers a shoulder rub, his hands sinking and shifting Ranulf's blubber. Ranulf hisses and mewls, always partial to Corrin's massages. His hands traveling upward, Ranulf purrs as Corrin's hands caress his cheeks, each one fatty enough to barely fit in Corrin's hands. Hands now in his hair, picking at his ears, Ranulf turns into putty. Granted his body is already the human equivalent of putty, his rolls malleable from how many exist. He whines when Corrin's hands leave him. 

"Why'd you stop?" No response, Ranulf can hear Corrin still behind him. Silence stretching on a bit longer than he'd like, Corrin planning something, he keeps the cool in his voice. "Y'know, if-" He twitches from a blindfold put over his eyes. His ears still serviceable, he hears Corrin walk out, his hurried footsteps betraying the lightness of his feet. No time wasted, Corrin hurries back, the sound of a cart in tow.

Immediately by Ranulf's side, he traces his right index finger in circular motions, slowly spiraling up. Hand on Ranulf's breast, the meaty boobs once using bras before any Corrin could find were either too small or too weak, Corrin traces his finger on his aureola. A mewl making its way up Ranulf's throat, his lardy arms, quivering, Ranulf moans, his breasts always an area of weakness for him. 

One hand persistent with Ranulf's moob, he focuses his other one on grabbing food. Brownie brought to his face, Ranulf nearly chokes, not expecting a treat to be shoved in him.

"Eat up," Mouth clamping around Ranulf's nipple, he playfully nibbles at it before pulling it, Ranulf's mewls fill the room. Hands shakingly bringing the brownies to Ranulf's mouth, Ranulf does the rest of the work, tongue devouring it all. 

The desperate whines of the cat underneath him finer than any operatic singer, Corrin pushes himself away from Ranulf. Hands on Ranulf's shoulders, he pulls him down, stomach rising in the air as his breasts pool down to his face. Ranulf still too relaxed for his taste, he takes a couple of padded steps away. Then he takes another. And then a couple more before he's in front of Ranulf's great big belly. 

Ranulf's whines a bit more incessant, Corrin's name constantly leaving his lips, Corrin withholds his snicker. Pretending to walk away, he fakes lighter footsteps. Hearing Ranulf's strained breath as he pathetically lifts his head up, he grabs his left arm with his right hand, squeezing until it goes white. 

"Corrin?" No response. The room silent and unable to see, Ranulf's mind erroneously connects the dots. "Corrin! Come back," Little grunts and his feet kicking in the air, his ankles unable to even touch the ground with his doorway busting calves, Ranulf tuckers himself out. "I'll eat whatever. Just please," A steady rhythm of pleasurable gasps as Ranulf struggles, Corrin touches himself.

Hand reaching the base, he wraps his hand around his member. Hjs thick and long third leg a happy byproduct of his draconic lineage, a couple strokes as he holds his own breath is all that do him in, palm full of his own semen. 

Staring at Ranulf's stomach, the idea plants itself in his mind. Wiping his jizz on Ranulf, smiling at marking his territory, Corrin places both hands under Ranulf's stomach. 

"Corrin!" Cheer back in his voice, Ranulf grunts as Corrin grabs his fat, fingers digging into him. 

Offering no words, no air coming into his lungs as he holds his breath, Corrin heaves Ranulf's stomach up. The pile of fat slowly pushed up, Corrin edges his body closer. The little barely even able to be called kicks that Ranulf does motivates Corrin, his almost gone strength slowly returning to him. 

Closer to his treasure, Corrin finds his treasure chest. Ranulf's bloated fat pad marking the spot, Corrin laughs at being unable to spot Ranulf's dick. His fat pad so warped and stretched out from his weight that it completely covers it.

Counting to three, Corrin slowly lets go of Ranulf's stomach with his right hand. One hand barely supporting the gut, it falls back down on Corrin, pushing his head into Ranulf's fat pad, the must entering his nose. Ranulf's whines break him out of his reverie.

Barely able to push back for some leverage, Corrin creates a bit of space for himself. Shoving his hand in Ranulf's fat pad, Ranulf's moans guide him as if a metal detector.

Stomach crushing him a bit more than before, heat getting to his head, Corrin quickens his pace. A particularly loud moan followed by a small twitch that shakes his body alerts Corrin. 

Huffing, realizing that he was a bit overzealous, Corrin wastes no time. Reaching past the fat, he lands his hand on Ranulf's dick. 

The poor thing not receiving any attention in such a long time, not even having been seen in such a long time, Corrin touching it has Ranulf already excreting a bit of pre. 

Smiling, Ranulf's stomach pushing him a bit harder than he remembered, Corrin laughs at realizing it'd be impossible to blow him without getting crushed. Ranulf's fat pad far too in the way, he'd sooner end up smashing his face in the expanse of fat than wrap his lips around his dick. 

Ranulf's whines sounding stronger, Corrin plays with his hardening member, Ranulf's dick slowly pushing its way past all the fat.

Stroking it, Corrin laughs at Ranulf's bated breaths, now realizing that it is actually going to happen. 

"At least," Ranulf tenses as Corrin gives a stroke, his hand meeting more resistance from the engulfing fat than Ranulf's dick. "you took me out," He shuts up with a mewl, tongue lolling out. "to dinner first," Ranulf gasps and groans as he comes, unused to someone playing with him down there in so long. 

Corrin moves to the side as Ranulf lets loose a torrent, so pent up. Hand not escaping unaffected, his cramping legs and Ranulf's heavy stomach make him ignore that. 

Both hands supporting Ranulf's stomach, he crawls back out, careful to not step on the fat on the floor known as Ranulf's legs. 

Fresh air returning to him, Corrin let's Ranulf's stomach flop back down. "Fuck," Heaving, he rests back on Ranulf's stomach. Catching his breath, Ranulf is unable to do the same, still panting despite not being the one to lift hundreds of pounds. Legs fumbling as he stands up, Corrin wastes no time in handing Ranulf his feeding tube, his pleased libido happily accepting the food without a remark, even forgetting about his blindfolded state. 

Gazing at Ranulf, Corrin huffs, his own libido still unpleased. Seeing his big fat cat submissive to whatever he does, happy to gorge for his master stirs him back to attention. Shaking his head, a couple of breaths relax him. "If you want to eat, I'll make sure that's all you do," Corrin whispers in Ranulf's ears, licking his lips as Ranulf struggles and whines. Placing earplugs in his ears. Sense of sight and hearing gone, his taste on overdrive, feeling only his own fat and smelling his upcoming meals, Corrin keeps true to his word, Ranulf now only able to eat or think about his upcoming meals.

Washing his hands, Corrin offers a reminiscent look at Ranulf's stomach. Opening his phone, his eyes light up, tossing another glance at Ranulf's stomach as he buys a pulley and other materials, idea formed in his brain.

[pangtasias-atelier]

The Goddess's Judgement Part 3

Direct continuation of part 2. This series is probably the most fun I've had writing in a really long time lol. I have a really soft spot for RD. I've played it around 10 times at this point.

This also kinda lost its fat focus, but the entire plot of this part is about moving Ike so it's not entirely devoid of it.

______________

Nursing his soup, Kyza delicately sips from it. Savoring the flavor, he smiles at the addition of basil. Lifting the spoon to his mouth, someone bumps into Kyza, the small amount of liquid spilling on the table.

"Watch your step, soldier!" Kyza reprimands. Ignoring the uptight comment, Kyza straightens out his clothes. Despite being one of the smaller tiger Laguz, Kyza's clothes had ripped during his growth, the tigers affected the most overall from their judgement. Having common sense as Kyza refers to it, his first order was to mend his clothes. And mend them he did, the outfit a heavily let out version of his uniform. His vest unable to be closed without tearing it, he has it open instead, his gray tunic on display. His old pants still fit, the typical loose Laguz pants coming extremely in handy for a majority of the Laguz.

Still sitting down, Kyza's stomach presses into the table despite his best efforts at proper posture and sitting as far back on the bench. Most of Kyza's weight went to his stomach, the tunic clinging around it for its dear life, every stomach roll perfectly visible. His thighs and rear didn't receive the same attention as his stomach, Kyza positively apple-shaped.

Kyza abruptly stands up when he sees Ranulf enter the dining hall. Loathe to admit it, he couldn't prolong food forever, his stomach winning rather than searching for his captain.

"Captain!" Kyza dutifully calls as he makes his way to Ranulf, his stomach slightly quivering against the tight tunic, the fabric caught in his love handles. Both among the smaller of their species, Kyza's size diminishes Ranulf's, the subordinate still larger than the captain.

Ranulf smiles upon seeing Kyza. "We have a situation, meet me outside the dining hall," Ranulf slinks back into the kitchens, raiding it as every soldier currently is.

"Yes sir," Kyza salutes, marching to the entrance. Standing straight against the wall, chest puffed out, his fat upper body more prevalent now, Kyza waits.

A few minutes pass by before Ranulf rejoins him, a large bundle of food now in his hands. "Follow me," The two make their way, neither of them talking, the silence instead filled with their snacking.

Reaching Ike's room, Ranulf unceremoniously opens the door. Heading in, Ranulf ignores Kyza's flabbergasted face.

Unable to even begin thinking on formulating any words, Kyza instead trepidatiously walks inside, each step mindful of Ike's overflowing body.

"You'll be fine Kyza. We need your help," climbing onto Ike's moobs, Ranulf brings out the rest of the food, which is admittedly far less than he had intended, and feeds it to Ike. Happily accepting it, Ike can barely register the conversation.

"We have to get Ike out of here, so-" Ranulf puts a hand out to stop Kyza's interruption. "So, I need you to tear down the wall leading to outside," Ranulf points to the wall opposite of the door, Ike's temporary room thankfully on the first floor.

"That's Sir Ike?" Kyza uncalmly shouts, walking around Ike to verify for himself. Indeed agreeing that it is Ike, Kyza stutters before taking deep breaths, his moobs and stomach rising and falling. "Suppose I break the wall, we can't possibly move him," Kyza gesticulates towards Ike, the hero of Crimea, now immobilized.

"We gotta start somewhere. And your the strongest tiger I know, so are you going to help Ike or no?" Smirking at the compliment working, Ranulf claps at Kyza's answer.

"Of course, captain! Pardon my earlier dissent," Kyza carefully walks around Ike, making sure to not step on him. Past Ike, Kyza transforms, the energy much more restrictive than before, he slashes at the wall a meager five times before reverting back. "Excuse my poor performance," Kyza groans as he wipes his face with his handkerchief, his face sweaty. Despite the few attempts, the wall already gives way slightly, Ranulf correct in putting his trust in Kyza.

"Good job," Ranulf commends. "Now how to move him out of here?" Ranulf murmurs as he feeds Ike a loaf.

"Even twenty of our strongest warriors would face difficulty in moving him,"

"Yeah, there's too much surface area." Ranulf pensively thinks, handing Ike another loaf. "Doesn't someone have a wyvern?"

"A wyvern would struggle with such a weight. And I doubt a wyvern has the intelligence to be able to move Ike," Break over, Kyza transforms back, chipping at the wall again. Another five slashes and some of the bricks fall, a hole now in the wall. Kyza takes another break.

"If we get enough Laguz to push Ike onto something, we could have a wyvern pull Ike," Ranulf figures out, handing Ike two loaves.

"That seems like our best bet," Kyza confesses, resuming his job.

"Hey Ike, who has a wyvern?"

"Haar," Ike wheezes out.

"Isn't he the one that's always asleep?" Ranulf questions, trying to imagine where he would be.

Ike nods his head, his cheeks and chins quivering in response.

"Keep at it Kyza, I'll be back with a wyvern," Hopping off of Ike, Ranulf's ass and thighs shake.

His first instinct to check for the scent of wyvern, Ranulf pinpoints Haar's room. He opens it only to find it completely empty. Grabbing a satchel, Ranulf sniffs it, Haar's smell on his nose. Following the trail, Ranulf ends up outside and finds them.

Asleep against his wyvern, hands resting on his stomach, Haar snores as he leans back. Originally a snorer, Haar's fattened body only worsens that trait. Larger than Ranulf and even Kyza, Haar's entire armor is now gone, none of it able to fit around him anymore. His entire uniform is now gone, his corpulent body too big for it. Haar forwent clothing, his briefs enough to cover him and his weight and wyvern enough to warm him. Considering the several half naked Laguz and Laguz as naked as Haar, he's in good company. His growth mostly focused on his rear, Haar's ass generously lifts him up as he sits on it asleep. The black briefs hug and pinch his thighs, a noticeable indent as they dig into him. His stomach rests on his lap, his engorged thighs having extra room for a larger stomach.

Detecting Ranulf's presence, Haar's wyvern alerts him, making noise and even getting up.

His support gone, Haar yawns as he falls back, now slightly awake. "What is it? It can wait later..." Haar reasons, eyes drifting back asleep. Wyvern not having any of it, they smack Haar with their tail, the appendage landing straight on his stomach. "I'm up, I'm up," Haar groans, snacking his lips. Haar bluntly reacts upon seeing Ranulf. "If you need anything, I'll pass,"

"It's about Ike; he needs your help," Ranulf pleads. "And your wyvern's help,"

"He can ask me himself," Haar retorts, a yawn escaping his lips as he scratches his rear.

"Well he's stuck," Seeing Haar's confused expression, Ranulf sighs. "You just have to see for yourself,"

With his wyvern's insistence, Haar follows Ranulf, the two of them waddling back. The trek back is cut short, Kyza already done tearing the wall.

Haar widens his one good eye, not expecting his leader to resemble a blob. Checking to make sure, Haar comes face to face to Ike.

"Haar-" Ike begins.

"Yeah yeah, save your breath. I'm on it," Heading back to Ranulf, Haar begins questioning them. "I can't just move him-"

"We know, I already have someone getting Laguz to help push Ike onto something and then your wyvern can pull him on the snow,"

"You alright with that, partner?" Haar's wyvern having a much better work ethic than him, they screech into the air, ready. "Okay, that's two things figured out. So what are we going to push Ike on?"

"I haven't figured that part yet," Ranulf admits.

"I have captain!" Kyza shouts, trudging something behind him. Several tigers follow behind him, all fatter than him. "I refurbished the tables to remove their tops and combined them," Kyza happily explains.

"You did all that this quickly?"

"The other Laguz assisted me, once they knew of Sir Ike's plight, we rushed to create this,"

Inspecting the makeshift sled, Ranulf smiles, patting Kyza on the back. "Great job everyone, now everyone head to the other side," Listening to their commander, everyone does so as Ranulf places the table turned sled beside Ike.

Everyone pauses at Ike's size. They all squish and grab his fat, everyone marveling at it.

"This is no time to dawdle, I need everyone to push and lift with all you got!" Ranulf yells to cheer them.

Listening, everyone stands side by side on one side of Ike, everyone bulbous bodies bumping into each other, the warm extremely warm despite the cold snowy weather. On Ranulf's first count, they all bend down and reach under Ike's body. By his third count they heave, Ike slowly being pushed and lifted. Grunting and complaining the only sound, everyone cheers as they slowly turn Ike. Now on his side, everyone congratulates themselves before giving one final push, sending Ike flat on his back and onto the sled. Even with tables combined to make it, Ike still overflows it, his sides grazing the snow. But he lies firmly on it, enough to be pulled.

Haar tying a rope to the added pole on the makeshift sled is the turning point, all the Laguz now leaving to resume their eating.

"Don't overwork yourself," Haar pats his wyvern on the back. A screech returned his way causes a frown. "I overwork myself all the time," Ignoring their owner, Haar's wyvern slowly trudges through the snow, Ranulf and Kyza making sure Ike doesn't fall off. Ike shakes as the wyvern drags him, his chins and cheeks wobbling. His stomach sways back and forth and up and down, the pauses taken by Haar's wyvern making Ike jiggle all over.

"Where are we taking him? We can't leave him outside," Haar points out, waddling at a distance with his arms crossed.

"The reception hall will have to do. It's big enough and close enough to an exit," All agreeing with Ranulf, they slowly head towards the main entrance at a snail's pace. A couple of close calls with Ike almost falling off, all the crises are averted. Opening the door, the wyvern enters; dragging Ike inside, the wood scrapes against stone as everyone covers their ears. Everyone except Ike who's too big to move his arms anymore.

Finally back inside the castle, everyone sighs. Haar unties his wyvern. Already ready, Kyza presents a bag of meat to them, the wyvern happily flying away with it in their mouth.

"I earned a well-deserved rest," Haar comments seconds before he rests against Ike. The stone doesn't faze him, his cushiony ass providing sufficient enough comfort. Sinking into Ike's stomach as he leans into him, his warm leader lulls him to sleep.

Ignoring Haar, Ranulf shakes his head. "Thanks Kyza, there's no way I was moving him on my own,"

"No thanks needed captain," Kyza salutes as he happily marches away, happy to receive a compliment from his superior.

Hearing not one but two sources of snoring, Ranulf whips around, finding Ike soundly asleep, somehow tired from everyone else working. Ike's massive stomach rises into the air with each inhale and falls back down with each exhale.

"Guess I've earned a nap too," Ranulf shrugs. Climbing on top of Ike's stomach, Ranulf stretches, glad for a rest. Ranulf kneads Ike's stomach, getting comfortable before taking his rest.

[pangtasias-atelier]

The Goddess's Judgement Part 2

This'll probably be a series of shorts of right after the judgement takes place before probably fast forwarding to the future. (Maybe, I have an idea already about a future segment)

This isn't a set plot or Flow, just a bunch of drabbles really.

__________

Still within the camp, Ranulf lets out a sigh as he finishes his meal. He leans back and pats his new stomach as he lets out a small burp. Like most of the other cats, Ranulf was one of the smaller men. He weighs more than he thought he would possibly ever weigh, but in comparison to people like Tibarn, Ranulf could be considered puny, not like Ranulf has seen Tibarn's new form.

Rubbing his stomach, Ranulf lets out another burp. "Has anyone seen Skrimir?" A jumble of "No," sounds out before everyone goes back to their plates, food currently more important than their leader.

Sighing, Ranulf stands up and stretches, his bones popping in relief from sitting for so long. Unlike most of his companions, Ranulf's clothes still serve to maintain some shred of decency. His shirt has enough stretch that it still fits, only littered with tears to allow bits of flab to sleep through. His pants fit snugly but securely, his thighs and ass filling them out.

"Guess I'll check on him. Who knows what that hothead could be doing," Ranulf thinks as he leaves the dining hall, taking several snacks for himself for the road.

Exploring the hallways don't turn up the results Ranulf wants, no Skrimir in sight. The hallways no longer contain the usual bustle of before. Most of the army occupying the dining halls. Some stragglers wander through, the larger Laguz requiring several breaks. Every time, Ranulf steps to the side, hallways not meant for a corpulent and a chubby person side by side.

All questions about Skrimir lead to the same answer, no one knowing or caring about his location.

"Dammit, where's Janaff or Ulki?" Unable to find the two hawks to help his search, Ranulf grumbles. Reaching for a loaf of bread, Ranulf glances down at seeing it's his last. Shrugging, he shoves it into his mouth, relishing it. Eating it, he sighs as he pats his stomach. "Guess I can head back. He's probably fine," Ranulf consoles himself, indeed heading back, not even having left the castle.

His pace now far more hurried with no more food, Ranulf almost misses the banging coming nearby. Stopping, he sniffs the air.

"Ike?" Ranulf questions as he knocks on the closed door. The sound of items falling convinces Ranulf to open the door.

The open door reveals a pile of of pale slightly tan flesh overtaking the floor. The only identification that it's a human is the mop of blue hair on one end.

Lying on his stomach, Ike struggles to get up. Nearly filling the room, Ike's arms can no longer reach the floor, his stomach too high and too spread out. His feet are in the same predicament, Ike completely stuck.

"Ranulf?" Ike wheezes, his body parallel to the door, his sunken face unable to turn to see Ranulf with so much fat.

"Ike, you're, you're massive...," Ranulf stares in awe. A blob after the judgement, Ranulf's assessment of Ike is true.

Muscles now looking like they never existed on his form, Ike wheezes. Everything growing equally, Ike resembles a blown up caricature of an already blown up caricature of a Beorc.

His stomach nearly fills out the room, the numerous fat laden rolls everywhere. Ike's face rests on his gigantic moobs, his numerous chins overlapping and sinking into them. His cheeks overtake most of his vision, his stomach filling the rest. His thighs are completely stuck together, his stomach under them swaddling them together. Each thigh bigger than the doorway. Ike's arms are mostly swallowed by his fat, unable to move those as well. Ike's wrist are now around the width of his former bicep. Ike's ass juts in the air, the two piles resembling couches. His back is rife with rolls and divots of fat.

"Gotta get out," Ike groans, pinned by his weight.

Ranulf climbs up Ike's stomach and into his moobs, right in front of Ike.

"I don't think that's happening anytime soon pal," Ranulf admits, surveying the sheer size of Ike.

[pangtasias-atelier]

That bakery AU story with Keaton and Kaden absolutely fucks, so let's add the other 2 fluffy boys to Corrins collection of feedees with a sequel of that involving Ranulf and Yarne pretty please!

I don't know why but all the beast FE are great for weight gain stuff.

Also, thank you so much! The Kaden&Keaton bakery was my favorite prompt so far! And this one also ended up being a lot longer than I expected.

Corrin’s daily routine is pretty fixed.

Wake up early, begin baking, bring back some for Kaden and Keaton. (It was more around a lot) Head back to the bakery to open and then take breaks to check up on Kaden and Keaton. Rinse and repeat.

His bakery was becoming a community fan favorite as more and more people kept coming back. Each time just a little bit bigger, Corrin was ashamed of it but he loved it. So now he could comfortably keep the bakery closed every Sunday and focus on Kaden and Keaton.

He stopped renting our from his old place and chose to move in with Kaden and Keaton, the two had pooled in their money to somehow buy a whole house. On the edges of the city, it was a great deal which Corrin was thankful for.

But even with a day off, the bakery was becoming a huge chore for just himself. He needed help and soon. So it was on one Saturday that he posted a help wanted sign on his bakery.

—-

Yarne sighs as he stretches his back out on a park bench after another failed interview. Despite his glowing resume, most places seemed to never call him back. Probably ‘cause I’m a taguel, Yarne ruefully thinks. And those that did call him, found his conversational skills a bit lacking.

“I’m a cook. It’s not like I need to talk to others.” Yarne mutters into his hands. He always had a fear of public speaking but he needed a job. Putting his panic on hold, Yarne checks his phone when it vibrates.

Checking the notification, he smiles when he sees a new job listing for a bakery. Seeing that interviewing in store would be faster, especially with the bakery two blocks away, Yarne sighs before heading to the location. Maybe he’ll be lucky this time.

—-

Corrin wipes the counter while there’s downtime. He finally has a lull in customers after a nearly packed store since the morning.

He jumps to alert when he hears the telltale jingle of a customer.

“Hello, I’ll help you by the counter.” Corrin pauses when he sees bunny ears on his customer. Taguel are exceedingly rare. And this one is extremely adorable despite the fact he looks like he wants to run away.

“Oh, h-hi.” Yarne clasps his hands in front of him. “I saw that there is an opening and I wanted to speak to the manager.” Yarne asks.

Corrin smiles as he sees such a quick response. “I’m the owner, Corrin. Pleasure to meet you.” Corrin smiles as he sees the prospective employee.

“I’m so sorry, I thought-” Yarne stutters as Corrin interrupts him.

“It’s okay. Do you have a resume?” Yarne smiles at Corrin’s lack of care of his noticeable features, his ears, tail and abundant hair ignored. Yarne produces his resume from his folder, the paper still crisp after his failed interview earlier.

“This is impressive!” Corrin compliments, reading Yarne’s years of experience. And cute to top it off.

“Thank you.” Yarner nervously says. He lets out a sigh of relief upon Corrin’s next question.

“When can you start?”

—-

Yarne may not be the best cashier, but he’s an amazing baker Corrin finds out. He’s helped create new goods. Corrin finds it adorable seeing the taguel’s obsession with carrots, but the customers love it, so there’s no harm.

Trying new recipes includes a lot of taste testing, and while Kaden and Keaton were always happy to participate, they happily gobbled everything. So Yarne ended up trying a lot of his creations before deciding they were good enough and then having customers try them.

All that taste testing was showing up on Yarne. Yarne followed Corrin’s recipes to a t and he took to using Corrin’s secret ingredient as well. Though Yarne didn’t really understand what it was for, he just knew that it made everything taste better.

It seemed to have the same effect on Yarne as it did to Kaden and Keaton, Yarne’s body clinging to every ounce of weight. Yarne was evenly distributed, he would be slightly more apple shaped, Corrin could predict. He already got his uniform in a larger size. An embarassing event for him, and a hot event for Corrin.

They always had leftover bread, so Yarne was allowed to take some home. Corrin only deemed it fair that Yarne be compensated as much as he could be, business was positively booming and his life was much easier with an extra hand.

Yarne at first took nothing, then he grabbed a bit before taking a near dozen home each day.

—-

“Yarne?” Corrin walks to the backroom, Yarne currently washing dishes and utensils from the mornings bake. Corrin gets a good look at Yarne’s plush size, up another uniform size.

“Yes, Corrin?” Yarne asks as he washes the dishes, struggling to wash off some persistent starch.

“I’m going to need you to watch over the store for a bit.” Yarner barely avoids dropping the glass bowl as he fumbles with it. He jams to the water off as he stares at Corrin.

“I- um- I don’t th-”

“I will be two blocks away. If anything happens, don’t hesitate or worry to call me.” Yarne swallows as he tries to calm his nerves. “You’ll be paid extra of course. And don’t worry what happens, I know I’m asking a lot from you.” Corrin calms Yarne down.

“Okay…” Yarne says, his brain already regretting that decision.

“Thank you so much.” Corrin pats Yarne who turns bright red. “Don’t forget to call me if anything happens. You’ll do great.”

Yarne heads to the front of the store and sighs when he sees no one. He waves goodbye to Corrin. He doesn’t miss the bundle of boxes he’s carrying in his hands.

Standing at attention, Yarne waits for any customer. He’s thankful that Corrin was at least nice enough to put him charge after lunch hour.

The half hour nearly over, Yarne smiles as he cleans the counter. He was worried over nothing.

Cheering when he hears the bell ring, he greets Corrin. “Hey Co-” Yarne’s words get stuck when he sees it’s not Corrin. Instead it’s a cat, the person’s eyes both different colors.

“I heard there was a job for cashier.” The stranger says as he leans against the counter, looking up at Yarne.

“Uh, yes. Let me call the owner.” Dialing Corrin Yarne mentally cheers when Corrin picks up right away concerned about him. “Everything is under control. But, there’s someone asking about the cashier position.” Yarne pulls away the phone when he hears Corrin yell, saying he’ll be there soon.

“He says he’ll be here soon.”

“Thanks. Guess I found a good employer that’ll hire beasts like us.” Yarne blushes at the cat’s directness. “I’m Ranulf.”

—-

“Thanks for stopping by!” Ranulf waves goodbye as he leans against the counter, his moobs squishing against his flabby arms. “Hey boss.” Ranulf waves as Corrin enters from the backroom.

“Hey Ranulf.” Corrin greets back.

Today was the third week of Ranulf’s job and Yarne’s fifth week. Corrin couldn’t ask for better employees, they were great at their job and the two were nice to each other. And they were cute to boot.

Corrin could see that Ranulf took to the take home extra rule much more than Yarne. Ranulf was already sporting a beginner’s belly and the overall chub to go with it.

Done baking, Yarne also comes out the backroom. He sits down as he wipes the sweat. Ranulf notices the way that Corrin looks at him and Yarne. His coworker had gone up a size since he started.

Corrin adjusts the bread and deserts on display when Ranulf calls him.

“Hey boss?”

“Yeah Ranulf?”

“How’re you still single?” Ranulf smiles when it garners a reaction from both Corrin and Yarne. Corrin nearly hits his head as he stands back up, blushing.

“I’m not single.” Corrin quickly responds. Ranulf doesn’t miss the way Yarne lightly frowns, and truth be told he’s a bit upset too.

“That’s a shame. Why don’t you ever bring him around?” Doesn’t mean he won’t continue teasing his boss.

“It’s more of an open relationship with them.” Ranulf tries to register what Corrin was said. He wasn’t expecting his boss to be like that.

Yarne blushes from Corrin’s straightforwardness.

“Open as in, all of you, or individual?” Ranulf questions some more. Yarne stammers upon Ranulf’s question.

“Th-that’s awfully personal!” Yarne blushes.

“I’ve been in open relationships before. I wouldn’t mind trying out another one.” Ranulf winks at Corrin, the intent clear. Corrin turns as red as his eyes.

“Could be either. ” Corrin blushes. “I need some air. You two can close for today.” Corrin tosses the keys to Yarne and escapes.

“Now you know to not give up easily.” Ranulf chastises as he closes the display case.

“You have no shame…” Yarne says, his hands on his ears.

“C'mon, you think he’s cute too. So help me clean up. The usual rush will start in a bit.”

The two prepare for the rush and once the stores usual operating hours end, they both take home two boxes of goods for themselves.

—-

Corrin sighs as he lies in bed. Most days off are peaceful but he couldn’t help but think about what Ranulf said. He does like him and Yarne. And he has talked it over with Kaden and Keaton and they’re okay with it.

But two boyfriends already felt excessive. To have four! The thoughts always bring a smile and a blush to his face but still. He needs to think about it.

—-

About a month goes by after Ranulf’s inquiry. Ranulf had the decency to let it go, Yarne was too embarrassed to bring it back up, and Corrin was still trying to decide.

That decision kept getting harder and harder as he saw his two employees getting bigger.

Yarne seemed to eat his feelings away, more and more goods ended up going to his house at the end of each day. The secret ingredient’s effects far more potent on beasts than humans, Yarne ballooned out. Baking was becoming harder now, it was tiring for the growing taguel.

Corrin wasn’t sure but he felt as if Ranulf was always looking at him. And whenever he looked his way, he’d see Ranulf devouring a snack when there were no customers present.

The backroom was not made with the intent of heavier set people getting there; Yarne’s body is closing the gap between the doorway and himself. And he’s closing it fast. Corrin wasn’t sure but he assumed Yarne was getting near 500. Yarne now has to tuck in his shirt to stop his stomach from showing. His shirt conforms to his stomach, the U shape present standing or waddling.

Ranulf looks like he just made it to the 400’s. Like Yarne, Ranulf’s fat shifted across relatively equally, but unlike Yarne, Ranulf is a tad bit more pear shaped. His chunky ass is seated on a chair by the register. Despite his size, Ranulf seems to get bolder, more and more compliments showered on Corrin.

Standing was becoming an issue for the two of them.

“You come up with a decision or something?” Ranulf asks Corrin.

“Hmm?” Corrin tilts his head, unsure of the question.

“So are you open or not? You’ve been starring at me and Yarne for a long time.” Hearing his name, Yarne waddles to the front, his thighs brushing against the door.

Corrin turns red, not expecting this so soon. “I’m open to another relationship.” Corrin says, his face red. “With both of you.”

Yarne nearly chokes on air; Ranulf smiles, a tint of red on his cheeks.

“I knew you’d make the right choice.” Ranulf waddles and flips the sign to close. He grabs Corrin and Yarne and leads them to the back room. He sits Yarne down and grabs a chair for himself.

“What’re-” Yarne asks Ranulf only to be interrupted by a cake brought to his lips.

“You’ve been wanting to feed us since you met us huh? Well, I’m waiting.” Ranulf leans back into his chair as Corrin brings a slice to his face as well.

Yarne blushes as he chews. Whatever words he has planned get ruined by more sweets fed to him.

“You like it too, just look at you.” Ranulf says to Yarne, looking at his fat body. “And so do I. See, this benefits all three of us.”

Corrin nods his head as he feeds them both. He wonders how he’ll find other employees once Yarne and Ranulf become immobile. But that thought fades away as he savors right now.

[pangtasias-atelier]

I,,, forgot about Skrimir, how did I forget hot lion boy? Let's add him to the Immobile bakery au gang with Ranulf, Yarne, Keaton, and Kaden, a new addition to Corrins soft boys squad!

Skrimir has to be top 5 from RD for me. Rambunctious hot men are perf. Add some pudge to calm them down? Amazing. This also ended up really long holy crap. Not much weight gain, and no one’s immobile, for now YET cause I would love to write about that soon, I’m trying to focus on sizes and movement which I gave up near the end lol.

________________

Corrin lies in bed, right arm as a pillow as the morning’s rays begin their invasion of his home. The sun isn’t what wakes him up however; it’s the commotion coming from his kitchen that does.

The two of them hungry, they surprisingly woke up early to stuff themselves. Exhausted from the busy day at the bakery yesterday, Corrin somehow didn’t wake up from their slow and loud attempts to get up.

Getting closer to the edge of immobility, Kaden and Keaton practically needed help with everything. In nothing but ill fitting boxers, they sit across from each other at their huge table. To even sit close enough to reach their food, their stomachs press into the edge.

Both far hairier than the average human, they were massive. At their size, the difference was hardly noticeable but Keaton has a larger gut, the packed container resting on the table. Kaden was more gifted in the rear, his ass falling off his chair.

“That donut was mine.” Kaden shouts.

“Corrin said I could have it.” Keaton lies as he greedily licks the sugary powder off his sausage sized fingers.

“You’re a liar, Corrin knows sugar is my favorite.” Kaden complains as he attempts to stand up. Stomach complaining, Kaden remains seated.

“You ate my cupcake yesterday.” Keaton reminds Kaden. Keaton continues stuffing himself while Kaden rubs his own stomach.

“Cause you ate my pudding the day before that…” Kaden retaliates, his voice strained as his stomach requires relief.

“Yeah, and you…” The two continue back and forth about who ate what, the both of them throwing in lies here and there which neither of them catch, their intake far too large for them to remember.

Their bickering goes on, their voices reaching Corrin’s sensitive ears. Stretching, Corrin sighs as his bones crack. In nothing but boxers as well, the nights far too extremely warm to wear pajamas having two mammoths as bed partners, Corrin groggily makes his way to the kitchen. The walls as his guide, Corrin hears Kaden and Keaton quiet down as he reaches them.

“Morning.” Corrin greets as he gives a long hug to each before kissing them. Removing himself from their tempting warmth, Corrin quickly readies himself for work.

Now showered and dressed, Corrin gives Kaden and Keaton a goodbye kiss. “I won’t be back till after closing. There’s more stuff from the bakery in the pantry by the fridge. Love you.” Corrin says as he leaves with a smile and love you that Keaton and Kaden return.

Inserting his key into his bakery, Corrin thanks the heavens for Ranulf and Yarne already being there.

Done with fixing the chairs in their place, Ranulf grins as he saunters over to Corrin, tummy swaying and his tail swishing behind him. “Guess who’s five minutes late.” Ranulf says as he gives Corrin a peck on the cheek.

Corrin laughs as he returns the gesture on the lips. “Sorry. Woke up a bit late.”

“I had to wait an extra five minutes just for this.” Ranulf teases as he produces an egg tart from behind his back. Bringing it to his lips, Ranulf moans as he shoves the pastry down his mouth. Sighing, Ranulf pats his extended belly. Ranulf was clearly the smallest of the four, but he was still massive to normal standards. Walking and moving was a struggle.

Corrin blushes as Ranulf’s straightforwardness. He was always the one teasing him.

“I told big bunny back there to do the same, but he couldn’t wait to eat.” Counting down from three on his fingers, Ranulf silently snickers as Yarne replies.

“Some of us have shame.” Yarne huffs as he walks out from the backroom. Turning sideways, Corrin doesn’t miss the way Yarne’s gut grazes the side of the door. Flour all over the edges of his apron, it serves to accentuate how wide Yarne is. The ‘big bunny’ as Ranulf nicknamed him, practically needed a break or two to rest his feet. Yarne’s padded, girthy stomach was becoming a chore to be contained by his uniform. Corrin was happy to give Yarne the breaks he needed, same with Ranulf, both having chairs to sit down.

Yarne lumbers over to Corrin, his belly wobbling as he does so. “Good morning.” Yarne says as he blushes.

“Morning.” Corrin smiles as he gives Yarne a kiss. Patting his stomach, Corrin begins quickly checking over everything as Ranulf and Yarne assume their stations.

Everything in tip-top shape on time, Corrin flips the sign to open.

Saturday morning is always a different beast Corrin’s found. Today was no different as multitudes of people make their way into and out of the store, all looking for delicious treats for the weekend laziness and the appetite that came with it.

Plump regulars mixed with skinny new customers, Ranulf and Corrin help and assist them as fast as they can. The sun in its rightful place, the crowd seems ceaseless even as morning reaches its conclusion.

The Saturday morning rush melds into its sibling, lunch rush. Seeing that Ranulf is desperately trying to withhold his breath, face flushed and body relying more on the counter, Corrin lets him take his break in the backroom. Feet yelling at him, Ranulf gladly takes the chance for a sit as he goes back.

All alone, Corrin keeps a smile as he handles the customers. Lunch slowly terminating it’s socially accepted time, less people come in than leave. With a smaller crowd, Yarne struggles through the door as he helps Corrin up front.

Corrin blushes as he sees his customer’s shocked faces upon seeing Yarne. None of them say anything or take a second thought on their purchase which is a good thing.

With Corrin’s guidance at times, the both of them get through the last batch of customers with a strained smile.

No one inside, Yarne grabs the chair by the register and plops down, his stomach bunching up on his thighs as they and his ass overtake the chair. Yarne huffs and wheezes as he catches his breath.

“You did good.” Corrin praises as he brings a slice of carrot cake to Yarne’s lips.

Yarne blushes but happily accepts the treat, his stomach growling at him. Eating on the job was becoming a more frequent activity for him and Ranulf, but rarely in the front where someone could see them.

“I should check on the brownies.” Yarne suggests as he gives a couple breaths before scraping himself off the chair. A pull from Corrin finishes the job as he helps Yarne to his feet. Once again struggling against the doorway, Yarne manages to fit through.

Ranulf peeks his head through the door as he gives an apologetic smile. “Don’t tell him I work here.” Halfway closing the door Ranulf opens it to speak again. “You’ll thank me for closing this.” Door fully closed and Corrin fully confused, it takes a minute for the bell to chime as the front door opens.

“Hi, welcome to-”

“Where’s Ranulf?” The stranger inquirers immediately. Practically stomping to the register, Corrin pales as he sees the behemoth of a man before him.

Standing at minimum a head taller than him, and broad shoulders attached to muscular arms that seemingly and most likely can rip him in half. The stranger’s suit is filled out by his rippling body, the obviously tailored outfit meant to show off his physique down from his head to his toes. His long hair is pulled back into a ponytail to free up his tanned face, his chin accompanied with a slight beard.

“I’m sorry?” Corrin bravely feigns idiocy.

“Ranulf.” The stranger repeats as he glares at the closed door leading to Ranulf’s current location. “I can smell him.” As if to make his point, the stranger sniffs the air and pauses as he sniffs Corrin. “And on you.”

“I’m sorry, but no one by the name of Ranulf works here. There is a taguel who works here, Mr….” Corrin drawls off as he realizes he doesn’t now the man’s name.

“Just Skrimir is fine.” Skrimir glances at his watch and frustratedly sighs. Taking a card out of his shirt pocket, Skrimir places it down and slides it to Corrin. “When Ranulf walks back out the room, let him know that his job is waiting for him.”

Glancing at the card, Corrin grows paler at the company name. Gallian Enterprises.

“I’m sorry but no one by that name works here.” Corrin replies as he slides the card back to Skrimir.

Huffing, Skrimir snatches the card back. “Fine.” Breathing through his nose, Skrimir counts inside to ten. “Then give me a maple bar.” Skrimir breathes out as he hands his card to Corrin.

His brain slowly working, Corrin jolts as he realizes the order. “Right away.” Making sure to grab the freshest and nicest looking one, glad that Ranulf brought some earlier, Corrin gently hands it to Skrimir and tells him his total before swiping his card. “Thank you for your business.” Corrin beams as he hopes Skrimir will peacefully leave.

“Hmpph.” Is all Skrimir dignifies him with as he leaves.

Corrin remains still as he watches Skrimir leave. Door at least not shoved open, Corrin blushes and averts his gaze when he sees Skrimir angrily tear into his donut.

Yarne comes out a couple minutes after the commotion, trays in tow as he hands them to Corrin. Sitting down after the short walk, Yarne begins speaking.

“What was that all about?”

“He kept asking for Ranulf.” Corrin complains as he organizes the display case. “And he was super rude.” He grumbles.

A couple more minutes pass by before Ranulf walks out as well. “Sorry about that.” He apologizes, hand behind his head.

“You worked for Gallian Enterprises?” Corrin asks, tray forgotten.

“Seriously!” Yarne chimes in with disbelief.

“Yeah yeah. I was secretary for Caineghis. No big deal.” Ranulf waves them off as he leans against the wall, ready to sprint off if Skrimir comes back.

Yarne shrugs it off, not recognizing the name, but Corrin shouts. “You worked for the CEO? Why’d you quit!?”

“Too much work. Besides, he’s thinking of stepping down in a few years which means I’d be working directly for his nephew Skrimir.” Ranulf replies with a smirk. “And I quite enjoy working here. I got enough cash to last me a long time.”

Yarne processes the information slowly, unable to comprehend such a loss of money.

“Working for a huge company like that gets tiring. This is more my style.” Ranulf adds.

“It is your choice. I just hope he won’t make this a constant thing.”

“He might, but I talked it over with his uncle so hopefully he’ll get Skrimir to quit.”

“Hopefully.” Corrin sighs. “Let’s get through the rest of this day then.” He smiles.

——–

It’s Monday lunch that Skrimir walks again into the store. Ranulf conveniently nowhere to be seen again, Corrin grimaces at seeing him.

Thankfully, he respectfully waits his turn in line. At the register and with no one behind him, Skrimir clears his throat.

“I apologize for my behavior Saturday. I harassed you for no good reason.” Skrimir lets out as he stares at the interesting blank white walls.

Not expecting an apology, Corrin momentarily freezes before clearing his throat. “It’s okay. No harm done, right?”

“Right.” Skrimir says as he drums his fingers in the counter.

Corrin remains quiet from the awkward conversation.

“I’ll have a donut, please.”

Corrin blinks a couple times before responding.

“A maple bar, right?”

“Yes.” Skrimir sighs. The same routine, Corrin waves Skrimir goodbye as he leaves. He catches another glimpse of Skrimir angrily tearing into the donut. He looks at anything else, afraid Skrimir would catch him staring.

—–

Tuesday morning, immediately after the bakery opens, Corrin receives a call on the store phone.

“Hi, this is Gallian Enterprises, your bakery does orders, correct?”

“Yes, with enough time given.” Corrin wipes his sweaty palms as he writes down the large order listed on his notepad. “Yes, and that’ll be all?” Corrin stares at the order. It’s a huge profit, but it’s also a huge task.

“Yes.”

“And the order is for Friday pickup at 8:30am?”

“Yes.”

“And who will be picking it up?” Corrin swears he can hear a muffled voice complaining in the background.

“Skrimir will be picking it up.” Corrin holds all his strength to not drop the phone.

“Of course, the order will be ready as asked. Thank you.” Corrin hangs up as he begins working on the logistics of such an order.

—–

Friday morning unsurprisingly reveals itself to be a stressful day. With such a huge order requested by a huge company, Corrin goes in early to make sure that everything is done on time. The sun still enjoying it’s beauty-rest unlike Corrin, the brisk air served its job of waking him up.

Getting straight to work, Corrin wastes no time as he begins mixing and baking everything. Six dozen donuts, half a simple glazed flavor with a the other half being a mixture of chocolate, maple, sugar, and others. 4 dozen cupcakes, a quarter red velvet and the rest strawberry or vanilla. 5 dozen brownies, none with nuts as they made abundantly clear.

Corrin sighs as he finishes everything and manages to pack it all up nearly on time.

His break as he waits for Skrimir doesn’t last long as Skrimir enters slightly earlier, the clock displaying 8:19am.

Skrimir smiles this time, very unlike his prior two visits. His nose twitches as he catches the fresh sweet aroma wafting from the treats.

Corrin stands up to show Skrimir the order only to get assaulted with a hug. “You did it!” Skrimir cheers.

Corrin blushes.

Skrimir lets him down, a wide grin on his face. “Everyone in the office will love them.”

Corrin smiles from the compliment as he helps load them into Skrimir’s car. “Just remember to drive slowly and safely, the-”. Corrin’s interrupted by Skrimir’s laugh.

“I drive great. You don’t have to worry for me.” Skrimir leads the way back into the bakery to pay.

Corrin happily rings in the total that Skrimir doesn’t bat an eye for. Though Skrimir does have a sour look on his face when Corrin hands him back his card.

“Is everything alright?”

Skrimir taps his foot before sighing and handing Corrin a slip of paper. “Here.” Is all he says as he rushes out the bakery.

Dumbstruck, Corrin gives a wave before looking at what Skrimir left. He has a choking fit when he sees a number scribbled on it.

At 9am, Ranulf walks in, Yarne calling in sick and unable to work.

“Hey.” Ranulf lazily greets.

Corrin shakes his head before shoving the paper in his pocket. “Morning.”

Walking up to Corrin and nabbing the piece of paper, Ranulf grins. “Well well, seems your popular with everyone, aren’t ya?”

“I, uh-”

“Go easy on Skrimir, man gets crushes way too easily.”

“I, how do you know-”

“He was gonna be my boss remember. So, you like him or not? C'mon, I got a bet riding on this.”

“Kinda?” Corrin squeaks out, face too warm for his comfort.

“Damn, guess I owe Caineghis 50$. He kept blabbing on and on about how his family has all the good genes.” Ranulf smiles as he heads to the backroom, Ranulf having gained a fair amount of knowledge of baking since his time here.

Corrin waits until the bakery closes and for Ranulf to leave to even think about looking at the paper.

Paper in one hand, phone in the other, Corrin breathes deeply. A gentle knock on the door interrupts him. Corrin blushes when he sees Skrimir by the door. Opening it for him, Corrin continues blushing as Skrimir walks in.

“I didn’t receive a call.” Skrimir impatiently brings up.

“I was busy at work today.” Corrin confesses. “But I was about to call you!” Corrin shows Skrimir’s dialed number on his phone.

Skrimir grins at the little win.

Corrin winces as he speaks his next question.

“I am in an open relationship.”

Skrimir huffs as he crosses his arms over his chest. “I know, Ranulf told me. And I told him I am okay with that.” Skrimir smirks at Corrin’s dumbfounded face.

“I’m going to kill Ranulf.” Corrin thinks as he breathes deeply. “Okay, umm. I’m free right now if that works with you?”

“Wonderful.” Skrimir entwines his arm with Corrin as he leads him out. Taking Skrimir’s car, he drives them slightly out of the city and stops at a national park.

“A park?” Corrin asks as he stares at the way the flowers bend and wave in the gentle breeze.

“The office said this would be best. Do-”

“This is perfect.” Corrin laughs as he steps out, it’s been awhile since I’ve been here.”

Skrimir smiles as he opens the trunk and pulls out a picnic basket.

“Another office idea?” Corrin laughs.

“I…”

“It’s okay, it means you cared.” Corrin smiles as he leads Skrimir this time. “There’s this spot I love.” Walking up the designated path, Corrin discreetly glances around before heading into the the trees. Skrimir follows him and a short 5 minute walk downhill leads them to a small creek.

A small flat grassy area is where they mark their picnic with their tablecloth.

“This, this is lovely.” Skrimir brings himself to say as he puts out gourmet sandwiches he had ordered for this occasion.

“You’re not used to this huh? It’s okay.” Corrin pats Skrimir’s arm. A smile on his face when he sees Skrimir is now the nervous one.

“Okay. I hope you like this.”

“It looks delicious.” Corrin grabs a simple ham and cheese, and nearly cries at the way the juices fly into his mouth. Wiping his mouth with a napkin, Corrin compliments them. “And they are delicious. Where’d you get these?”

“It’s a deli by the office. They have some baked goods but they’re nothing compared to yours.” Skrimir blushes from his own compliment and takes a large chomp out of his sandwich.

“Thank you.” Corrin blushes, not from the compliment, but from Skrimir’s eating habits showing themselves.

“The office loved your food.” Skrimir continues as he takes another large portion of the sandwich before grabbing another one.

“Are you okay? You seem nervous.” Corrin questions as Skrimir takes a large bite.

“I’m fine.” He nearly shouts before catching himself. “I’m not used to something so… relaxed. But I like it!” Skrimir adds, punctuated with a bite.

“I like it too.” Corrin responds, a smile on his face.

Skrimir finishes his second sandwich, reaching for a third.

The date continues along in the same vein, Skrimir too nervous. But both of them pass it enjoyably in the other’s presence. By the time the food is all gone, Skrimir having eaten most of it, Corrin begins packing up.

“Now let’s go before a ranger or someone yells at us for not being in the designated areas.” Swiftly packing it up, Corrin gives a hand to the full Skrimir.

Taking the hand, Skrimir lets out a small huff as he stands up. Both of them freeze when they hear a twig break.

Or at least what they think is a twig. Nothing moves, human or animal. Corrin looks for the culprit and pauses when he sees Skrimir suddenly seems much fuller in his midsection.

Clothes entirely intact, Corrin wonders about what caused such a thing before Skrimir confesses.

“I have gained some weight this past week.” Skrimir admits as he stares at the water. “I wore… a girdle to hide it.”

Corrin lets out a small “oh” as it registers.

“We shou-” Skrimir nearly helps when Corrin places a hand on his stomach.

“I like this.” Corrin decides to admit something today as well. It’s now or never he supposes. “But only if you like this. If not, that’s okay with me.” Corrin elaborates, not wanting to influence Skrimir either way.

Skrimir clears his throat as he takes one deep breath. “I do too.” He admits with his eyes closed, face red as he waits for some cruel laughter. Instead, he receives none, only a kiss on the lips from Corrin.

“Let’s head back then.” Corrin suggests as he leads the way, arm once again entwined with Skrimir.

The walk and the subsequent ride are relatively quiet, Skrimir’s rough grip on his steering wheel the main noise.

Aided by directions from Corrin, Skrimir stops at his house.

“I had a really good time.” Corrin gives Skrimir another kiss as he exits the car. “Hopefully the next one will be soon.” Corrin waves as he watches Skrimir drive off.

When he reaches his home, Skrimir mentally cheers when he sees a notification from Corrin.

—–

“Skrimir is currently in his office.” The receptionist greets Corrin on sight, his presence an increasingly common occurrence.

“Thank you.” Corrin responds. Entering the elevator, he presses the elevator button for the 20th floor. The ride is uneventful with nobody else inside. The elevator dinging, nobody bats an eye as Corrin makes his way to Skrimir’s office. A gentle four pattern knock he uses just for this, Corrin waits the okay. Hearing Skrimir’s muffled voice, Corrin smiles as he enters. Closing the door behind him, Corrin places the box of baked goods on Skrimir’s desk.

Skrimir gives a rough growl as he goes over the paperwork. Sighing, he stands up and gives a hug and kiss to Corrin.

Corrin melts into the embrace as Skrimir’s far fatter form presses against him.

It was evident that Skrimir was a stress eater, and while he could contain himself most times, around Corrin’s baking, those qualms flew out the window. The constant binging was and is taking its toll on Skrimir’s body. Completely gone were his abs to be replaced with flab that developed into a full blown stomach that hangs past his belt. His chest and arms still retain their strength but it’s hidden beneath all the abundant extra padding to soften him up. Skrimir’s face was definitely plumper and gave him a softer more approachable appearance. His legs grew out too, the constant chafing an annoyance from Skrimir.

Skrimir grew and his office and wardrobe expanded with him. Brand new chair to support his weighty and sizable self alongside a desk custom ordered so his gut wouldn’t get in the way. Skrimir’s outfits were no longer tailored exactly for him, both of them deeming it a waste with how often Skrimir grows out of them but his suits were always tailored to fit him. And they do, all leaving none of his expansive girth hidden.

“Rough day?” Corrin asks as he places a hand on Skrimir’s stomach.

“It’s better with you here.” Skrimir plants another kiss on Corrin.

“Well, I better hurry before anyone starts getting any funny ideas of what we do in here.” Corrin reprimands Skrimir as he gives him a kiss.

“I’ll see you after work.” Skrimir says, a smile on his face.

“Got it, love you.” Corrin adds as he leaves.

[pangtasias-atelier]

The Goddess's Judgement Part 6

I had like so many ideas about this but they all just kinda fell through since halfway through writing this I got hit with a massive writer's block that lasted for months. And now I just kinda want this to be over. So here's this kinda really extremely half-baked part. It's meant as like a finisher for the story while also allowing for other parts to easily be made that are oneshots.

Not much weight gain or fat stuff, but hope you enjoy!

____________

Awareness returning to him, Pelleas stretches in bed. The act harder now, he lets out a small whine as his fat body appreciates the miniscule movement. Hand colliding with something warm and soft, Pelleas keeps his hand there, the unknown item so plush. His hand sucks into it even, the depth of it a testament to its plush quality. Letting his hand test on it, Pelleas stretches a bit more. Sighing, his eyes shoot wide open immediately after. Realizing that someone else is in his bed, Pelleas rolls over to the side. Nightstand supporting him, does a double take upon the total stranger in his bed.

Body littered with rolls, Pelleas can tell the stranger is around his own size. He wonders if this is how fat he looks. Mind returning back to the matter at hand, Pelleas notices the ears and tail attached to the strange man. Mind connecting the Laguz features, Pelleas's mouth gapes.

"Volug?" Standing still, Pelleas is unsure of whether to reach forward or recoil further.

His name being called, Volug quickly gets up. Stomach pinning him, he gasps at still being untransformed. Noticing the shocked Pelleas, he immediately shifts before returning back, his face red from the simple once mundane task.

"I knew you were a Laguz," Hands poking and feeling the tan tattooed fat, Pelleas even gives a belly rub. Recoiling as he realizes, he coughs into his hand.

"Don't tell anyone," Speaking in the ancient tongue, Volug smiles as Pelleas understands him.

"Of course," Furtive glances at Volug's exposed skin, his burgeoning fat exposed as it sags, Pelleas blushes. "Perhaps you should transform back," "So no one will discover you!" Pelleas adds.

Volug does as instructed, letting out a bark.

"I want to ask you several questions, but we need to get ready to pack up camp so we can leave. And help the Laguz Alliance with supplies," Instinctively reaching for Volug's head to pet him, Volug walks away

"No more dessert then," Pelleas jokes, smiling as he chuckles.

Volug returns, kneeling in front of Pelleas.

"Oh! I was just joking, Volug," Smiling, Pelleas can't get rid of him, Volug still standing there. He pets him once. Volug walks away from being dismissed, Pelleas beginning to help around.

The Laguz Alliance is in a much worse state than Daein. With all three of their leaders immobile, commands get lost with so many there. Fortunately for them, Laguz require few necessities for travel, their bodies as weapons enough to cover most things. Ranulf takes the mantle of leadership. In reality, with nothing to prepare, the only chore that existed was figuring out how to move their kings and Ike. Food itself seemed to be an issue, but the surprising overabundance of it soon showed that it was no problem at all.

The first day is simple, Ranulf just informing everyone of their departure in a week.

The next day is even simpler, another feast held to celebrate their upcoming return to their homelands.

With the difficult task of moving their leaders heavy in everyone's mind, the worry turns to relief. An envoy from the Daein Army, Zihark comes with the blessing of Pelleas.

Zihark's robe gone, the fabric having ripped long ago, his undershirt remains, the paunch visible. His pants barely torn on the side from his thick thighs, Zihark is top heavy, his gut and arms making it hard for him to swing his blade.

The issue of their leaders solved, that resolves all but one of their problems. The task of moving the large hero known as Ike. Ranulf simply believing that using Haar's services will suffice, it isn't until Soren randomly pops up, irritated with the whole mess, that the issue gets fixed.

Digging around Begnion, Soren had found the country's more advanced magic. Acquiring staves meant for the express purpose of teleporting people, Soren's return was a celebrated one, everyone ignoring his lithe skinny figure.

Too busy with food, Ranulf's fortune of his problems getting solved for him led to the ease on their departing day. Ranulf waking up, his first task had been to ensure all four main representatives were present and ready. Naesale still mobile, albeit nearly, he had been easy, his own appearance assured with the war over. Tibarn constantly threatening Naesala, Ranulf had to make sure both were separated, the large Skrimir and Ike sufficing perfectly.

With all of that heavy lifting finished, his task was to now wait, the rest of the Laguz Alliance forming rank.

Slow steps announced by Ulki and Jannaff, the Daein army eventually becomes visible to the rest awhile after. Pelleas leading the front, his wide girth is impressive compared to the rest of the beorc and even most of the Laguz, the King hanging in there. All shocked at seeing a Laguz by the king's side, they remain quiet as Pelleas coughs, his cheeks tinged with red.

"Laguz, while Daein's actions towards you have been unfounded and cruel, I implore you to accept my apology as King on behalf of the nation. And to accept these peace offerings to your leaders,"

"No need to be so serious, your majesty," Pelleas blushes, not expecting such a comment. "Though your sentiment is appreciated. I'm sure the leaders of the Laguz Alliance look forward to repairing relations with Daein," Ranulf accepting the box full of Laguz gems, he opens it to find three inside. Handing one to Naesala, Tibarn, and Skrimir, the Daein soldiers soon whisper to one another.

"What about the Laguz with blue hair?"

"I don't see any tail or wings?"

"He's massive. He's bigger than their kings!"

"He must be a dragon! Why else would he be so huge?"

"That must be the dragon that attacked Castle Nox,"

Ranulf catching the whispers, he holds back his retorts and jokes, laughing at how they confuse Ike for a dragon.

The three Laguz Kings activating their Laguz gem, Tibarn screeches while Skrimir roars, the Daein soldiers taken back.

The Laguz Alliance saluting, they begin to march back, everyone shocked as Ike disappears, only Ranulf knowing about Soren's warping plans.

The Daein army watching as the Laguz Alliance heads off, they soon march back towards their own homes.

Both armies heading their own ways, they leave with the hope of repairing their country, the war over and the future looking up for everyone. Though their fattened states sure is an unexpected turn of events for all of them.

[pangtasias-atelier]

After-Party: Skrimir

All smut will be tagged as #risque

So here's the first part of sequels to the Corrin fic. And here we start with Skrimir. It's been forever since I've ever written smut and I actually kinda like this!

This whole series is inspired by tumbyrumblings. Especially their "The Big Day series," but all their stuff is good. So go check em out!! Especially if you like more smut wg stuff. Cause it will not be a common thing for me

Won't ever take smut requests in the foreseeable future and I still don't like talking about specific explicit stuff cause I feel like I'm a prude.

Also kinda glad l took it a smut route since it helps give me more ideas to differentiate each part.

I really love the idea of Corrin being super possessive from being dragon.

_______

"Graaah!" A multitude of roars and complaints a constant to Corrin's new lifestyle, Skrimir's always remain the loudest and most insistent. 

Scrolling on his phone, Corrin smiles as Skrimir's anger persists. A treasure to see him express his anger, his fat not permitting to act upon it, Corrin loves teasing Skrimir by placing food outside his reach.

The smallest of the five, Skrimir was given special attention early on to catch up. Except everyone else's hopeless need to fulfill their hunger made sure that Skrimir was still the smallest, Ranulf the closest and even he holds a sizeable difference to Skrimir. Skrimir's body is a cantaloupe to the other's watermelon body. 

Lying down in bed, Skrimir the only one with such luxury, he's nearing the end of that privilege. His face an imitation of a topographical map, Skrimir's cheeks bloat out, the molehills rising with each angry huff of air. Despite being the smallest, his size is only comparative, for Skrimir to be compared to anyone else, he could only.be described as a mammoth, his gut or ass able to crush any normal sized human.

Corrin only in boxers, most of his day consumed in baking food that his lovable blobs would consume and feeding said lovable blobs, he found the lone pair relaxing, Corrin always preferring less layers. A simple tray of sugar cookies beside Skrimir's bed, Corrin enjoys his day.

"Corrin!" His roars not causing any reaction from Corrin, they evolve into him yelling his name. Anger only rising, Skrimir's thrashing only intensifies. Bed springs boinging, the sound of them remind Corrin of another activity. His clenched legs only provide a bit of the friction he craves, hands rubbing his thighs. His phone turned off, Corrin dips a hand down, eyes closing. 

The band lifted up, creaking springs getting louder, Corrin's hand shoots back up from a crash. Heart racing from the shock, it continues to race from the scene in front of him.

A desperate need for the cookies despite having already eaten no more than thirty minutes ago, Skrimir's vigorous shaking led to him gaining momentum for a roll. His roll allowed his fat to venture past his dented mattress. Except his body wasn't able to lift himself up so he came crashing down to the floor. But his endeavor caused him to fall on the opposite of the cookies' location, Skrimir now further away from them. 

Corrin standing up, he ends up with an unobstructed view of Skrimir's dimpled ass, the tan blubbery stuffed cheeks curvier than a winding road. He catches a view of Skrimir's mountainous gut, the hill for a stomach lifts him up, fat oozing underneath him. 

Boxers straining more than before, Skrimir's gasps and complaints only strain them further. Deciding to take it slow, tormenting Skrimir too good to pass up, Corrin takes his time. Ignoring the cavern that us Skrimir's fat caked hole, he grabs the tray of cookies first. He lies down on Skrimir's back, Skrimir's quickening breath from his member pressing into his back doesn't go unnoticed. The way Skrimir's back folds contort slightly around his member also don't go unnoticed, Corrin's legs buckling.

"You want these cookies, huh?" Skrimir doesn't have the opportunity to answer, his mouth crammed with multiple cookies from Corrin's fistful. "Then shut up and eat," Wasting no time, Corrin relentlessly bombards Skrimir with the sugar cookies, his hand ends up covered in his saliva. 

Humping Skrimir, Corrin's breathes end up shallow, every other word strained. "You fought this so much," Precum slicking his hard dick, the stickiness only provokes him further. "I stuffed you so much. Now look at you; can't even walk. Probably don't even want to," Sliding off of Skrimir, he ends up in front of his face. Pulling his hair back, he licks his lips from the trail of drool trickling down Skrimir's mouth, pooling onto his moobs. "So eat,"

Skrimir's feeding machine on hand, Corrin grabs it. No further prompt on Corrin's end, Skrimir wraps his lips around the tube, his angry face at being shamed not matching his submissiveness. 

"Now to do something you never let me do," Walking around Skrimir, Corrin huffs, Skrimir's moans affecting him more than he expected. Ending up directly behind Skrimir's ass, Corrin wastes no time in having his saliva covered fist enter Skrimir's ass. The act reminiscent of Skrimir's debaucherous nights with him when he was one mobile, the movement offers little pleasure for himself. Skrimir's squirming helps motivate him, his moans drowned out by the constant torrent of food only reminding Skrimir of his current food focused state. 

A wail of a whimper suitable for a whale, Corrin slowly removes his fist. Placing both hands around Skrimir's ass to hug it, he huffs as he rushes for the drawer. 

Grabbing the lube, he smothers his dick in it, the cooling nature of it sends shivers up his spine. 

"You must feel like an oven with how much of a fat pig you are," Lining himself up, Corrin's clenches his teeth as he enters, friction finally attained. "Just think of it as a mud bath," One thrust the beginning of the end of his journey, Corrin groans as each thrust makes Skrimir's fat ass pound back to him, the slap of his balls pleasing to him.

"Gods, you're still so small. How would you look even fatter?" Hands clinging onto Skrimir's ass, he feels his needed release coming. "You're already a brat; I can't wait for you to beg for more," The last slurps of the machine alert Corrin, the beanbag known as Skrimir gorging on it. 

"Hungry…," Skrimir huffs, his own wanton pleasure effecting him.

Knees nearly giving out, Corrin pants as he releases his load. Resting on Skrimir's ass for a second, he slowly pulls out. A bit of cum leaking out, Corrin smiles.

Huffing, he licks his teeth, the sharp chompers feeling sharper than before. Staring at Skrimir, he stares at his possession. Eyes slightly redder, he thinks fondly of his tiger. Embracing his draconic self, he glistens from his pride, his possessions happy to please him.

Feet trudging back to Skrimir's face, he grins down at him, feeding tube sucked dry. 

"That's a nice little piggy; eat for me," Grabbing Skrimir's face, he rubs his cheeks, pulling at them. Despite already being spent, he shoves his cock inside Skrimir's mouth.

Despite Skrimir treating him more like a tube, the ferocity that he sucks makes up for the lack of tongue. A barely acceptable second load shooting into Skrimir's mouth. Corrin pulls out, eyes closed shut as he paints Skrimir's face with his cum.

"You're mine," He whispers. "And whatever is mine, I'm gonna stuff them until they can't think about anything else," Kissing Skrimir, the taste of his semen lightly dancing on his lips, Corrin pulls back heaving. Nails sharper, senses more aware, Corrin doesn't bother cleaning himself, getting more food for Skrimir more important.

[pangtasias-atelier]

After Party: Corrin

All smut will be tagged as risque.

And here's the last part of the Corrin's bakery au. Took awhile to churn it out but it's here.

This was inspired by the story I requested of tumbyrumblings lol

______________

Heaving the large heavy bag onto the counter, Corrin sneezes as the powder ends up going everywhere, the bag not quite closed correctly. Nose recoiling from the unknown substance, he rubs and wipes it with a tissue. His contact for his special fattening ingredient had left Corrin an extra bag of something else as a sample for his best paying customer. Unfortunately, they hadn't left any note or mention of what it did. 

Originally planning late at night and seeing what it did as he fed the stuff to his beautiful blobs in the morning, his desire went away after the awful experience of powder going up his nose. Checking his phone, his contact still hasn't responded to him. Putting the bag in a cupboard and  deciding to leave it for tomorrow, he stretches his arms as he heads to his room to sleep. Already prepared by wearing only boxers, his outfit for the entire day everyday, Corrin sighs as he stretches in bed. Warmth and comfort combined into one raises his drowsiness, Corrin's eyes closing as his breathing slows down.

Eyes fluttering open, he wipes the buildup of sweat on his forehead. The light bedsheet his only blanket, only wearing boxers, and the cool fresh air of autumn not causing such a sweat, Corrin whimpers as his stomach aches and hurts. Hand placed over it, his body a furnace, Corrin lifts his blanket. A small beginner belly looking back at him, Corrin checks his phone. 

His fear assuaged as the notifications show that his contact did indeed reply, he open his phone as he grows some more, his boxers tightening and straining against his thighs.

His heart goes through a rollercoaster of emotions as he reads the text. His contact unsure, they claim that the powder should swap weights but he's unsure of the specifics but it's temporary. 

A small yelp released as his boxers pinch his butt, the perky cheeks now containing dimples as it grows further. 

Corrin's hope of his growth ending soon, ends up dashed every once in awhile. His boxers tearing first, that is just the beginning. Stomach growing out, it reaches the edge of his bed. Frame cracking, Corrin's stomach rests along the floor. Growth picking up, Corrin keeps his eyes closed as he feels his stomach hit the other end of his room. Walls creaking and groaning, it continues to accumulate against the door. The sides of his stomach reaching both sides of the wall, Corrin whimpers. His entire room taken up by his body, Corrin is for once thankful for not keeping anything in his room. 

Unable to see anything with his watermelon cheeks nearly blocking out everything, Corrin is unable to the extent of his growth. But he can feel it, his body in every corner of the room. Too fat to even waste his breath and ask for help, Corrin huffs. Each huff sends a tremor of shaking in his blobular body. Fat pooling up even further against the walls, Corrin sighs as the opposite wall crumbles. Growing even further, his multiple tons of fat end up destroying the two side walls as well. 

Stranded in his own oceanic fat, Corrin wheezes, exhausted from just existing. 

_______

Sun shining through, Yarne stretches. Pausing from being able to stretch, the ability to do so long gone, he marvels at his physique. Lean with some muscles, he gets up and stretches. His fat gone and missed, he still enjoys being able to move. No clothes on, he blushes. Raiding his closet shows nothing. One hand covering his dick, he heads to Corrin's room. 

A valley of debris littering the floor, that seems like nothing compared to the excessive blubber on the floor. Pausing, Yarne carefully climbs the Mount Everest of fat. Hands and feet sinking in, the trek proves arduous. Reaching the peak, he finds Corrin's face sunken underneath all his fat. His suspicions proven true, Yarne feels his dick stirring. Blushing, he moans as the abundance of Corrin's fat shifts around his needy dick. Corrin's moans lead him on, Yarne squeezing Corrin's breasts and pushing them against his dick. "You're so nice and warm," Yarne leans against Corrin's breast as he fucks him faster. "S-sorry I couldn't wait," Corrin's body shaking as he humps him, Yarne's face stays flushed as he cums, his seed leaking and dribbling down. 

Going back to Corrin's face, Yarne sighs as he rests on him. "What happened?" Yarne strains as his dick hardens again, Corrin's flushed flabby face drooling. 

"Don't know," Corrin lies, not wishing for his secret powder to be discovered. Corrin twitches as he feels someone else. A bit after, someone else begins to climb him.

"Looks like someone had their fun already," Ranulf gives a smack on Corrin's stomach, Yarne nearly losing his footing from the resulting shake. Wasting no time, he passes by Corrin's belly button, the whole too cavernous for any pleasure. Instead, any of Corrin's multiple rolls tempt Ranulf. Going towards Corrin's side littered with love handles, Ranulf stretches against Corrin, his bare lithe body against Corrin's ginormous one. Grabbing Corrin's sagging side breast as leverage, he mewls as his dick enters Corrin's roll. "Look at you. Can barely even breathe," Hands roaming as he fucks, Ranulf pulls back right before he finishes. Stroking the last bit, he groans as he releases all over Corrin's side.

Grumbling and whining getting closer, Kaden whines as he lays against the bottom of Corrin's stomach. "Corrin I'm hungry," Pawing at Corrin's stomach, Kaden slowly realizes the situation. "So beautiful," Making a fat angel, Kaden smiles as he sinks into Corrin. "Where to start?" He drools as he examines his options. Yarne and Ranulf currently occupied with their own section, Kaden takes his own spot. Any fold a goal, Kaden crawls beside Corrin's arm. The folds overlapping in such a small space, Kaden licks his lips. "Perfect," Sinking his teeth into Corrin's flab, he humps Corrin. He grabs Corrin's hand, wheezing as he struggles against the weight, he can't bring it around himself. Letting it go, he wraps his mouth around Corrin's nipple. 

Yarne gasps as Corrin's stomach pushes out, shaking as Corrin moans. "Is he growing?" The shaking's origin traveling down Corrin's body, his hypothesis ends up wrong. 

Crawling out from underneath Corrin's body, Keaton gasps for air, his body slicked with sweat as he moans. "Worth it," Face covered with Corrin's cum, Keaton rests on top of Corrin. More muscular than the other three, he hugs and cuddles Corrin's fat.

Everyone's attention shifts from Corrin's fat to the roar coming down the hallway. Skrimir's body returned to its original muscular form, he licks his teeth upon seeing Corrin. Rubbing his pecs, his dick already hard, he rushes his way to Corrin's face. 

Pulling Corrin's hair, he grins down as Corrin moans. "Let's see how it is with the shoe on the other foot," Hurriedly, he shoves his dick in Corrin's mouth, Corrin eagerly sucking. "Look at you, such a fat ass," His hands still on Corrin's hair, he pulls out just in time, Corrin's face painted in Skrimir's cum. 

Teeth barred at Corrin, he smiled down at him. "I'm sure we'll all enjoy having our way with you," Corrin gasps and flushes, everyone agreeing with Skrimir.

[pangtasias-atelier]

How about ideas or scenarios of characters with weight gain(?)

I enjoy weight gain universally with all characters lol

Corrin

Corrin just being a little bit chunky, his pear shaped body allures all the men. So they all try to fatten him up. So it's like a pet getting fed by their owners multiple times without them being any wiser and Corrin just blimps out, being waited on by a bustling and ready to please group of men. He's absolutely spoiled rotten, even when he could move, he didn't waste any calories

Ranulf

A veritable fat cat, Ranulf gets a bit pudgy and goes into fat territory but he knows how to play it. He's a definite teaser and points out about how full and stuffed he is or how hungry and how much he could eat.

Knoll

A spell gone wrong, his summoning abilities no longer summons monsters, instead it summons food. Research needed on how to control it, test the safetiness and healthiness of it. Except the food is so delicious that he can't get the taste of it out of his mind, his calm disposition a bit on edge cause of it. And he goes overboard 'testing'