#more juicy i left it at adonis this time lol

[weisbrot]

angel grantaire perhaps? i've been rereading under my wings and i would love to see your take

shame on me but i havent read it yet so heres my best guess 🫣💛

hope its what you wanted dear anon and thank you for this request and fic rec!! 👀✨🪽

[pangtasias-atelier]

Hello, you could do a Musclechub Sigurd, the summoner is very interested in Sigurd and plans to take it beyond its limits, thanks and I hope to take a surprise with what you write as well as happened with the Hector Request that I loved thanks and keep it up uwu

This was partially inspired by one of RottenHeart6’s drawings with Keaton & Draug. Mainly since I was unsure what aspect to take this for to start the growth lol

Sorry for the wait again! I do try to get requests that aren’t anon done first, but these ones were a bit trickier. Hope you like it and thank you for the kind words~

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Sigurd not the most prim and proper hero to have been summoned, far from it in fact with a multitude of heroes across different realms, his usual calm nature still hadn’t prepared Kiran for such an appearance. 

Kiran had first noted it during the most recent summer celebration. Adorned in swim trunks and a coat, Sigurd’s sculpted body had been a show for all to enjoy. Once again, Sigurd not the buffest or biggest of heroes, his aptly defined pecs were still divine. Water and a tinge of sweat from the searing heat resting on them, the swell and bump of them had seemed even more pronounced. His trunk a bit looser on the ends, the top of them were the opposite, the fabric clinging to his meaty juicy thighs. His coat perfectly tailored to him, the sleeves of it perfectly cup and fondle his biceps, the fabric getting ever so slightly taut with every little physical exertion. And yet, contrast to it all was his little protruding tummy. The slight bump it was only barely visible past his coat. Facing him directly, the sag of it was hard to note. 

The volleyball match between the male heroes had been a spectacle. Sigurd losing some sense of calmness whenever competitiveness came into the mix, his eager nature made him run to and fro, jumping to the ball whenever he could. The display of jiggling physique had been ingrained into Kiran’s mind by that point. 

And so, Kiran keeping Sigurd on the main team constantly, his workout routine and eating routine remained the same. For the most part. Kiran eager, they offered extra tips and words of encouragement, their face flushed and hidden under their hood as they stared at Sigurd either pushing himself to the limit with dumbbells or food. Both enchanting to Kiran, either activity was as much a treat as the other, Kiran often helping Sigurd with both activities.

With a constant heavy routine kept up, Sigurd soon grew even larger. Biceps a bit more noticeable, gut a bit more hefty yet not saggy, thighs growing larger, a bubble butt forming, Kiran was constantly by Sigurd’s size, showering him in every material in Askr possible. Aiding Sigurd in every conceivable way, every brand new function Briedablik granted Kiran to strengthen heroes simply meant Sigurd was the focus behind each one. 

Currently petting Feh, Kiran grabs the few remnants of red crystals beside her, a gift from Feh to Kiran. Placing those with the bevy of crystals in their stash, Kiran hums as they lug the sack, carrying it over their back. Both hands on the end, their back slouches as the trudge onward. Steps slow, they huff on the way, letting out a sigh as the training grounds come to sight. The gentle breeze of the outside air brushing across their face, Kiran takes a heavy gulp for air. A hand on the bag, it ends up getting taken from them, Kiran smiling at the helpful Sigurd. 

“Do you need water?” Sigurd sets down the bag, glancing down at Kiran. Sigurd in his training outfit, it’s simply composed of a simple white crew neck that fits snug on his large body, pecs biceps and gut pressing against the fabric. His blue shorts are almost the same, the fabric tight against his thighs and ass.

“I’m fine,” Brushing off Sigurd’s concern, Kiran instead reaches for the bag and opens it. A ton of red crystals gleaming in the light, Kiran grins. 

“Briedablik unlocked a new function again,” Grabbing Breidablik, they jam some of the crystals inside it. “I can now improve a hero even further with crystals,” The items positively useless, Kiran’s hoarding tendencies proved fantastic, Askr chock full of them. Not waiting for a response, Kiran aims it at Sigurd, his face quizzical.

Unable to form a response, Sigurd merely grunts as the ray of energy gets shot at him, his body absorbing it. Checking himself, he turns his hands around to inspect them. Nothing off, he nearly is about to give the okay before he grunts. His entire body as if bubbling, Sigurd lets out a small burp, a tinge of red on his face. His shirt ever so slightly more snug, he glances down. Not entirely sure, he rubs his chest. 

Kiran simply lowers Breidablik, staring at Sigurd as he accidentally gives them a show, Sigurd rubbing his chest as his stomach. Keeping his gaze on Sigurd, Kiran stares for a couple minutes before shaking their head, raising Breidablik once more, Sigurd too aloof to notice his increased size. Letting out a larger stream, Kiran grins as the effect becomes more noticeable, Sigurd’s frame bulking up. 

Sigurd’s biceps bulging further, Kiran keeps their eye on them, Sigurd’s sleeves becoming more and more strained as they attempt to accommodate for more muscle. Keeping their finger over the trigger, they remain entrances as Sigurd’s biceps become the size of baseballs before becoming even larger, So entranced and awaiting for the noticeable tear, their head turns as a tear sounds from somewhere else. Eyes drawn to Sigurd’s chest, his pecs are free of the constrictive fabric, the cut square adonis like chest rising and falling as Sigurd raggedly breaths, his breath hitching with an occasional moan. Shirt torn, the rest of the fabric fall off, Sigurd’s big round musclegut heaving up and down as well. Far more firm than a regular fatty gut, it gives a slight shake to it, but overall remains as one mass, akin to a yoga ball. Turning back to Sigurd’s biceps, Kiran huffs at the size of them, his biceps alone now the size of Kiran’s head. Sigurd’s shoulder much more defined now, it has a triangular shape and definition, Sigurd’s trapezius much more prominent. Heading down, Sigurd’s bubble butt is noticeable even past his meaty thighs, each of them the width of Kiran’s waist. His shorts pathetically tight, Kiran shuts off Breidablik. Glancing inside their bag, at least half of the red crystals remain. Kiran ties it close, wishing to save those for later, enjoying Sigurd’s massive size bit by bit.

Sigurd still reeling from the growth, he huffs, his body tired from the ordeal. His wide arms are a bit more difficult to move, so much muscle makes him more lethargic, his movements less graceful and slower. Noticing Kiran right in front of him, Sigurd flashes a grin. He blushes as Kiran places a hand on his stomach, letting out a huff as it gets rubbed. Kiran letting go, it takes his willpower to not put Kiran’s hand back on his gut. Instead, Kiran’s hand squeezing his ass makes him jump, Sigurd’s pecs slapping his chin.

“You’ve worked out enough today,” Kiran grabs Sigurd’s hand. “It’s time for you to eat,” Sigurd follows him, no objections to Kiran’s offer, Sigurd forgetting about the vast reserves of crystals left, all for him.