myfairvalentine - Tumblr blog

myfairvalentine · 4 months

Note

Hey there your back,can you write an modern au of Corrin being roommates with obese Keaton and obese Kaden. Corrin having to live with them results in him gaining weight on his hips and losing mobility in only a year?

I see Corrin request, I go feral ajnjabnsj. Also love seeing the two furrybait lmao. Kinda went crazy with like describing sized instead of much else but this got long lmao so I hope you enjoy it!

Warning: This is a fetish story!

Corrin has no time to grab anything from the fridge to make dinner. Not when his new roommates come up from behind him.

“Why don’t we order out? My treat this time,” Kaden rubs up against Corrin, his massive hips that billow outward pressing into Corrin’s own lithe limbs.

“Yeah! And I’ll get the dessert,” Keaton on the other side of Corrin, he wedges him in between the two of them. His large sagging gut bulges out in front of him and to the sides.

Corrin’s face is a flushed red. In between the two massive men, he has no form of escape. “I… Well we’ve been eating out for the past week,” Corrin speaks up. Looking at himself, he stares at the small bubbling bundle of flab that is his belly, the bad habits of his new roommates already heavily affecting him despite only being a week in to living with them.

“And? Ordering out beats cooking,” Keaton belches, the meaty sounding burp sounding out for several seconds from his light snack half an hour ago. Keaton pulls Corrin away, his large, flabby hand wrapped around the far thinner man’s wrist.

Kaden follows behind the two. His ass wobbles with each step he takes, the two ponderously sized thighs that have reportedly been the reason for a much wider door—a story that Corrin takes to heart with both Kaden and Keaton’s weight—struggle to make much movement, especially anything halfway passing for graceful or quick. “We’re still celebrating you moving in,” For all his weight, Kaden still manages to give Corrin one final push on to the couch.

“I guess,” Corrin stays in his spot. His face still shows off the bright little streak of faint red on his cheeks despite his supposed complaining. Seated at the very center of the couch, the furniture still has ample enough room for several other occupants.

Most of the room quickly goes away from the 600 pound lardass of a wolfskin on Corrin’s right. “Ahh,” Keaton sighs. He rubs his gut, the pile of flab easily giving from the pressure of his thick, fattened fingers.

It only takes a couple of minutes for dinner to arrive. Kaden already prepared, he grabs the multiple bags of food from the all too accustomed delivery man who doesn’t even bat an eye upon seeing the 600 pound kitsune that’s dressed only in shorts that hide none of his flabby rolls. “Hoshidan takeout. Just how you like it,” Kaden plops the several bags onto the low, wide table that’s right in front of the couch.

The other side of open space next to Corrin is taken up by another fattass. Kaden wastes no time in propping open a couple of boxes and digging in. His large breasts make a great table for his box, the two meaty tits larger than the container is.

Corrin takes a moment longer than the other two men, but the passing moment is only brief before he too starts to eat at the feast in front of him. Being squeezed in between so much fat by two men alone still leaves Corrin surprised at the sensation. A nice sensation, he thinks.

The three men tear through the bevvy of take out boxes in front of them as the tuned out sound of the television playing some sort of rerun for the countless time. The same is true for their daily routine, another day lazing about and eating on the couch happening for the eighth day in a row.

Despite having to deal with just over 1400 pounds of man fat, the couch does its very best to deal with the staggering weight without a single complaint. Kaden on the left side of the couch, the obese kitsune has an hourglass figure at his size, well as close as one can get with his still substantial gut from weighing slightly above 600 pounds back when Corrin had just moved in. His large thighs stretch out the thin strap of fabric for shorts. The taut fabric meant to be a deep, royal shade of blue is now a lighter shade with how taut it is. Especially with his ass that juts out behind him and stretches out the fabric, his ass also slipping out the waistband of them. His thighs are large enough to struggle with any chair meant for thin, regularly sized people. The two massive tree trunk sized thighs are pushed up against each other as much as they can be with all his own blubber in the way. His breasts larger than any women’s, Kaden’s large rack manages to sit on top of his large gut despite the size of his tits. They begin to creep over the edge of his gut and play slightly down the flabby hill of his stomach. Keaton on the right side of the couch, the also 600 pound, obese wolfskin sports most of his heft in his enormous gut that blankets his thighs and anything else that gets in its way. The large pile of lard has nothing in the way of clothes to obstruct it, not when keaton only wears a scantily tight pair of shorts that bulges from his fat pad. The upper rolld of lard that makes up his fat pad pushes past the waistband, sweaty rolls of lard making contact with the lower, hidden underside of his gut. Keaton’s stomach takes up the majority of his lap, all space needed to accommodate such a fine, hefty piece of meat. Keaton’s breasts also have a sizable amount of fat in them; his large chest has no definition to it anymore, the two tits splay down both sides of his gut to touch his large love handles when seated. His large, flabby arms practically use his breasts as a cushion with how much both body parts jut out in all directions. Keaton’s thighs and ass still struggle with his shorts despite his large top-heavy shape.

And Corrin, well Corrin is an absolute twig compared to the two of them. Even compared to just one of the obese, gluttonous pigs for me, Corrin is the model of healthy eating and fitness. And with him wedged in between the two men—an increasingly common occurrence—he is nothing more than the daintiest tree branch ready to snap off next to two full grown trees, even after his noticeable weight gain from just a week’s worth of living with them. Always the thinnest, most svelte man in any room from his lithe figure, Corrin still holds the title next to Kaden and Keaton even while sporting a small tummy from his constant binging from the two bad habits that he now lives with; a tummy that now presses against the tight, non stretch material of his shirt, the slightest hint of his creamy skin visible with a small bit of pudge that peeks out of his black tee. And his shorts also struggle against his extra weight. Corrin still wears his workout shorts, probably in some vain hope and thought that he’ll work off the extra bit of weight, despite having never done anything more than walking around the house before Kaden and Keaton cajole him into gorging with them. Corrin’s lower half already takes well to his extra girth. His two thighs that were already pretty notable from genes and some extra guidance with his workouts are now flabby; the two legs have a sizable amount of blubber encasing them. Though his shorts fit him fine for the most part, the only issue arriving when he puts them on or takes them off, getting them past his perky bubble butt that’s gotten flabbier and larger along with his legs.

And despite his increased weight, or perhaps even because of it, Corrin still indulges with Kaden and Keaton. He tears into the food in front of him with gusto. He only thinks about the wonderful belly rubs and insistence on eating even more food he’ll get from the two far more obese men by the time the most likely tubs of ice cream for dessert finally arrive.

————————

“Bouurghp…” Corrin lets out a small burp. Reclining in his own personal chair now, Corrin pats and rubs his paunch as he digests his meal. Already well influenced by Kaden and Keaton, he no longer resembles his former self. Especially when he’s managed to put on more than 200 entire pounds of nothing but lard in just three months of living with the two men.

The largest recipient of Corrin's gorging and feasting is his hips and ass. The two wide legs spread out on the armchair, the now 400 pound, wide Corrin taking up the entire expanse of the chair with his thighs pressed up against the armrests. Corrin's shorts are now replaced with a larger pair, multiple pairs purchased as he simply got fatter and fatter. His preference for fight fitting clothes continues to work in his favor, the shorts immensely tight with Corrin not having bought a new pair in some time. His shorts especially struggle with covering up his ass. The two bountiful curves that make up his large rump spill out his shorts, the flabby bits of his ass that is covered squished underneath the stretchy fabric. His stomach also having grown from his habits, the gut droops onto his lap, the lowermost layer of flab just barely creeping up onto his lap and sinking into the crevice of blubber where his two large thighs press up against each other. Especially with no shirt to keep his gut contained, Corrin adopting the same dress code as his roommates along with their eating habits. Corrin's moobs have little shape or definition to them anymore. The two flabby breasts relax right on his gut as he leans back. Corrin keeps his arms to the side after eating his meal. His biceps that are filled out with flab press up against his gut while they rest on the armrests.

"I hope you're ready for your after dessert snack," Kaden smiles from the comfort of the couch. The obese kitsune gropes himself after enjoying his usual dinner, the messy remnants of plates and boxes still littering the living room.

The couch is half empty, the entire right half of the massive furniture barren with Keaton currently standing up. "You're going to eat everything I give you, you hear? Especially after you did it for Kaden yesterday. Not that I care," Keaton huffs. His tail still wags behind him despite the small frown on his face Keaton carries an entire gallon of gainer shake; his lips still are smattered with the remnants of his own smaller portion.

Unlike Corrin, the two men have gained only a small amount of weight, the extra dozen pounds rather negligible on the two lard asses. Corrin's weight staggering, and also enjoyable to see the twink absolutely blimp out, the two men have been focusing on fattening him up. And incredibly happy to see the results, Corrin fat enough now to no longer be able to sit on the couch with them from there no longer being enough room for all three of them.

"I- of course I will," Despite the usual flush of embarrassment on his face, Corrin tries to keep his calm. His nerves still get the best of him sometimes even if he is enjoying himself, the dragon still retaining some of his embarrassment even after becoming more confident with two great examples in front of him.

Keaton grins as he brings the overwhelmingly large volume of gainer shake to Corrin's mouth who all too eagerly chugs the forcefully tilted liquid with some muffled moans sounding out in between each heavy, viscous swallow, both Keaton and Kaden watching just as eagerly.

————————

Keaton at the diligent workers bustling in and out of the massive garage.

The extra room currently going through renovations, what had originally been touted and lauded as an amazing steal with the property that can fit three whole cars is now getting fitted with actual flooring and insulated so that the air conditioning can get taken care of soon with the encroaching deadline.

The deadline being Corrin's weight, the dragon continuing to blimp out with even more lard as the weeks turn to months.

Everyone in town used to Kaden and Keaton—two massive men who constantly ordered enormous quantities hard to ignore when every restaurant spoke of them—an additional lardass living with them seemed more like an inevitability than anything, though everyone had expected Keaton and Kaden to be the larger ones. But, everyone already prepared for it, the renovations are almost done after just over two weeks. And the extended time spent around Keaton and Kaden shows on the workers' figures, all of them sporting a small belly to a hefty paunch now.

Keaton making sure that everything is as planned, Kaden is inside along with Corrin. The two in Corrin's room, the three fourths of a tonnage really cramps up the room.

"Oh look at you! You're so hungry today," Kaden smirks down at Corrin. He does his best to straddle Corrin, lard smothering lard, while he feeds him.

Corrin on his bed—the mattress all by itself with the frame removed long ago from the men's weights—he nods with half lidded eyes. "I want more," Corrin huffs after failing to nod properly with his tire for a neck.

Underneath Kaden, Corrin's immense body is still apparent next to the now 700 pound kitsune. Corrin weighing one hundred pounds above Kaden, the dragon still manages to hold onto the last vestiges of mobility from his draconic strength. But even with his minimal capability for movement, occupying so much space and being filled out with so much lard still makes moving difficult. Especially with his enormous, tremendous thighs. The morbidly obese dragon carries so much of his weight in his thighs. The two thighs struggle with chairs, the fatass needing four chairs now to withstand his width. His broad thighs spread out on the bed, nearly taking up the entire width by his own enormity alone. His legs over encumbered with lard, his rolls of thigh fat already seep down over his knees, the bloated joints losing their definition. His calves are in the same situation, the bloated limbs like tires of flab that make up his legs and creep onto his ankles. He no longer wears shorts at all anymore, the time and effort to get a suitable pair far too much when he simply outgrows each and every article of clothing like nothing. Corrin's ass gives him extra height, the two enormous ass cheeks rising up despite being spread out and smothered underneath the rest of him. Corrin's ass no longer has the same shape to them, the sagging multiple handfuls of ass fat spreading out. His gut rests on his thighs with him lying down. Though the width of it can't compare to his massive thighs, the large gut still unable to cover it all. His bountiful breasts splay down both sides of his enormity.

Corrin opens his mouth expectantly and is rewarded with more snacks shoved into his mouth.

"Unfortunately, that's all I have for you. You're going to have to wait a little while longer," With a final pat, Kaden climbs off of Corrin, having to slowly maneuver himself with two gelatinous men sloshing on top of each other.

The heavy footsteps mingled with just as heavy footsteps cue the two men to Keaton's return. Multiple bags in his arms, at least five in each, Keaton easily walks through the widened doorway to Corrin's room. "Food's here. And garage is all good to go for AC once that's taken care of. Your new room is almost ready fatass," Keaton smirks.

The room feels much more cramped with three men who weigh more than an entire ton combined. But none of them care with the presence of more food.

No space for more furniture besides Corrin's bed—and the living room where they all spend the most time—the two 700 pound men rest on both sides of the bed. Bags littered around them, the sounds of crinkling plastic and containers popped open fill the room as they feed themselves and Corrin like clockwork.

————————

The house cleaner than it has been in quite some time, the entire kitchen is completely covered in sealed food, ready to be devoured. And yet, it's all only for three men.

"Do you think this is enough?" Kaden can't help but fret. Though such a special occasion does call for concern from most people, especially when both him and Keaton have planned it for over an entire month now.

"It probably is, but I'm going to want more. And so are you," Keaton's arms are crossed as he inspects enough food to even make everyone who knows the three men stunned beyond belief, especially when more food is already ordered to be delivered later throughout the entire rest of the day

"Yup! Well, we might as well start with breakfast. Corrin should be waking up soon,"

The two heavy set men waddle their way to Corrin’s new room, the space formerly the garage. They leave all of the food that is meant to be their post breakfast dessert in the kitchen. They enter the room one by one, no doorway equipped to handle them walking side by side, or Corrin by himself for that matter.

Corrin rests on his back completely. The once twiggy dragon fully no longer resembles himself before moving in with Kaden and Keaton. He rests on a Nohrian-King sized bed. Two of them, actually. He has more than enough to grow with the two mattresses shoved together; which is something he desperately needs with how he voraciously devours everything that’s given to him and still able to complain and whine for more. The extra space on his makeshift bed also gives some room for his roommates to rest with him, more than enough room still available even with the three men on it together.

Corrin still asleep, the immobile man loudly snores away. Resting on his back—moving Corrin only possible with the assistance from the system of levers and tarps from the ceiling—his entire engorged, bloated figure puffs into the air as he continues to dream away. The truck-sized dragon’s flab billows out in all directions, Corrin having a very distinct lack of shape besides round. Corrin weighs more than Kaden and Keaton combined now; the ridiculously fat man’s weight careening closer and closer to an entire ton of lard from his unrepentant, unabashed gluttony. His gut is far from the largest thing on him, but even that piece of meat weighs enough to nearly rival his roommates’ weight. The tank for a gut rests atop his expansive body like melted butter. His stomach is divided up into multiple sections from his weight, each bit of his sagging gut filled with rolls big enough that require more than a single person to properly hold and grab. Corrin’s breasts currency splay forward with him lying down on his expansive back that’s broad enough to be wider than he is tall at this point. His large chest is larger than anyone else's; the two large jugs resemble someone's gut from their sheer size now. Corrin’s multiple tiers that make up his tire like neck thankfully stop his breasts from resting on his face. Corrin’s enormous neck is made up of multiple rolls from his neck along with the several sagging chins he’s gained. Corrin’s face is absolutely cherubic now, the ovular shaped face bulging out from his porcine jowls that jiggle just as he breathes now. Even corrin’s shoulders are rounded out from his weight. The two doughy shoulders lack any shape to them just like his massive arms, the two limbs swollen and looking like a flabby stack of tires more than an actual limb. His biceps larger than a tree trunk now, the oozing fat bulges out to swallow his elbow and most of his forearm that does the same to his wrist and hands, the over swollen digits lacking any sort of flexibility now. Not that he needs it when he has two doting caretakers to feed and fatten him up. But the most staggering part of Corrin is his lower half. Each thigh rivals Keaton’s and Kaden’s own enormity, Corrin’s entire lower half larger than the two men standing together. His thighs are composed of a staggering amount of rolls, each bit of hefty lard sagging onto itself and its lower rolls. The entire length of Corrin’s legs are inundated with overlapping bits of lard. His ankles are overblown from all the lard; his feet sink into his cankles from his weight, Corrin unable to move them as well. Despite how far apart Corrin has his legs—the two table sized thighs sticking out from underneath his blanketing gut that can’t match the enormity of his lower half—the fat from his thighs still stick and touch each other all the way down to his feet. Corrin’s ass gives him a sizable amount of lift as it’s squished underneath him. The two mounds of ass fat are absolutely immense. The fat that makes up his rear gives him a couch sized ass that can be used as seating like the rest of his mattress sized body.

Corrin still snores away as Kaden and Keaton are a mess of huffs and wheezes, the two 700 pounders gaining some extra weight themselves. Walking back and forth into the garage to organize all the food—with the help of half a dozen delivery men who never once showed any sort of shock at their size or even Corrin’s—the two men need a well deserved rest. Waddling up to Corrin, both of them let themselves fall down onto the mattress. The cool air blowing in from the AC thankfully keeps them all a nice temperature, the chilling air able to help with so much fat heating up the space.

“Whaaht'sh hahhppened?” Corrin wheezes out as he wakes up. His speech is mumbled from all the fat on his cheeks. His eyes slowly flutter open, the near noon wakeup time early for him with how long he binges into the night. A banner taped to the ceiling, placed directly so he could read it, it takes his fuzzy brain a while to process the “happy 1 year’” text displayed. “Ha-hahppy ahnniveershaary…” Despite his tired state, Corrin is indeed grateful for the time spent with Kaden and Keaton. “Shooryy, I’m,” He groans. His stomach thankfully finishes the rest of his sentence for him, the mass of fat rumbling with hunger.

“Nah, you just need to fill up that tank of yours first. Good thing we got just the thing for you,” Keaton also tired, he gropes Corrin’s fat as he rests against him like a pillow, a pillow that weighs more than twice his weight that is.

“Yeah. Don’t worry about it! We got you a cake to celebrate you living with us for a year. We also got you a special present,” Kaden reaches underneath his right breast and pulls out a small remote. Only a few buttons on the remote, he presses the largest one.

The sound of whirring coming from behind him, Corrin is unable to shift his head around to look at it right away. He does get a small look at it as the machine comes to life and inserts a feeding tube into his mouth.

“We did get you a four tiered cake but we thought this would be easier,” Keaton gains back some energy upon hearing how Corrin guzzles down his cake, all of it going to him. As he reaches for containers of food to feed himself, he pulls out his own remote and presses the second largest button to speed up his feeding. Afterwards, he greedily digs into his own food.

“There’ll be much more after that. And we’ll make sure to hand feed you some of it too,” Kaden says as he tears into his own several plates of breakfast.

Corrin’s moans begin to sound out in between the churning mushed up cake the feeding tube pours down his throat. “Mhmmh…” Corrin doesn’t even bat an eye or struggle as he hears both Keaton and Kaden press a button, the speed picking up once again. His stomach only rumbles instead, as if daring them to feed him faster. Which they both do, the two pressing the button once more after they each finish their second plate.

“You’re gonna love today, fatass,” Keaton continues to grope Corrin’s fat as he shovels food into his mouth with his free hand. “We’ll make sure you’re too full to want anymore. Got it?” Keaton presses the button multiple times, cranking it up to maximum speed.

“We’ll take good care of you. I’m sure you’d like that too, huh?” Kaden lovingly pats whatever part of Corrin’s immense flab he can reach, all of Corrin impossible to grab with just one free hand. Kaden keeps the feeding tube at its maximum setting.

“Here’s to many more years,” Kaden and Keaton both cheer as they open up another box.

Corrin only moans deeper upon hearing the two obese men, unable to see them but more than able to hear and feel all their own weight pressing up against his titanic lard. He guzzles down his feeding tube faster, only thinking about wanting more food and to get fatter.

#weight gain #writing #fe fats

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myfairvalentine · 9 months

Note

Seteth is gifted a cursed box of confections by Linhardt after getting on his case for being lazy. The curse makes him lethargic and gluttonous and over time he starts to lose control around food and gets extremely obese and loses his sense of decorum and poise. Eventually he figures out Lin is the culprit and turns the tables on him, leaving the monastery with two immobile fat men.

These Seteth requests I swear y'all are trying to kill me asjbhanjsbj. I love writing about men getting fat as fuck and kinda just only caring about eating and stuffing themselves.

Hope you enjoy this cause this got long and also wanted to like not drag out my like descriptions than usual and do a bit more little timeskips.

Warning: This is a fetish story!

Linhardt looks at his future experiment. He does his best to not betray any emotion, not that he needs to when Seteth keeps his focus directed to his desk and the papers that occupy it.

“Here you are, Seteth. A gift for properly giving me a chance,” Linhardt extends an olive branch to Seteth. A crisp, pristine wrapped box of chocolates are in his outstretched, slightly pudgy hand. The confections show no mark or branding of any chocolatier.

Still working at his desk despite the orange and pink hues that trickle from the sunset sky into his window, Seteth finishes his current signature before looking up at Linhardt. His green eyes widen in surprise at the generously sized gift. “Oh, why thank you,” Seteth accepts the gift and places it on his desk after clearing away the organized stacks of signed paperwork into their proper filing. “I apologize for my… earlier apprehension towards your application. But I will have to repay you for such a fine gift along with your stellar performance,”

“There’s no need. All I ask is that you enjoy them, since I made them myself,”

At that, Seteth’s ears perk up. And it takes every muscle in Seteth’s body to not reach up to feel if his draconic ears are exposed despite his current employee well aware of his true nature along with most others who fought with him in the war a couple years ago. “I’m sure I’ll appreciate such a finely handcrafted delicacy if your wrapping is any indication,”

“Perfect. Well then, I have some tests that unfortunately won’t grade themselves,” Linhardt leaves with his gift handed out. He gently closes the door to Seteth’s office and promptly allows himself to let out a sigh after walking down the hallway and making a turn into his own office. “Finally. Now I can get him off my case,” Linhardt’s bones crack as he stretches, slightly filled out limbs stretched above his head. He arches his back; the small bump that is his flabby belly he’s gained from extra snacks while working presses against the narrow, form fitting waistband and the bottom flaps of his vest, the navy blue fabric of his shirt slightly yet notably bulging from the extra sliver of pudge.

Grabbing some of his own chocolate from his stash of snacks in the bottommost right drawer, he plops himself onto his well cushioned chair. “If only he’d get off my case all the time, maybe I’d give him the usual chocolate I make,” The thickly sweet caramel coats his tongue as he pops an entire piece of chocolate into his mouth. Linhard does his work, doing his best to not think about the upcoming future.

Or more properly, Seteth’s future.

“All done,” Seteth says to no one but himself. He only takes a couple more minutes to properly sort the finished forms and place them into their designated areas to be handed out tomorrow. As soon as he finishes his day’s work, his flat stomach growls. His nose twitches from the surprisingly aromatic scent wafting from the chocolates on his desk. “I suppose one won’t hurt before dinner,” Seteth unwraps the delicately packaged box, picks out the top left chocolate, not without first tossing away the packaging in his small trash bin, and doesn’t think before eating the whole chocolate into his mouth despite usually only taking a small bite to truly savor and appreciate such treats. Unaware of the magic infused into his gift, Seteth holds back a choked moan at the explosion of bitter yet sweet milk chocolate paired with just perfectly salted almonds. Before Seteth can even register his actions, he grabs a second chocolate. And then a third. His mouth is assaulted by a deep, rich dark chocolate filled with the perfect sliver of caramel and then a cloyingly sweet milk chocolate embittered by the strawberry jam at its center. Seteth’s swallows down all the budding saliva from his now suddenly famished state. He clears his throat and fixes his still unwrinkled attire and stands up. “I will make sure to savor these,” He unknowingly lies to himself as he closes the box with the highest amount of willpower he needs before walking at a brisk pace towards the mess hall.

Unaware of gluttonous magic cursed into the chocolate given to him, Seteth begins his descent into pure, unabashed hedonism, his surprising second serving and even more shocking third serving at dinner clearly demonstrating the magic’s potent effect.

______________

Seteth stares at the box of chocolate in front of him. Only having them for a week, the box manages to surprisingly be only half empty. The still sizable amount of chocolate left comes from some restraint on Seteth’s part. Though he finds himself devouring several plates of food to keep himself from eating all the chocolate.

The chocolates cursed with gluttonous magic, the spells have taken clear hold of Seteth. In both his appetite and figure. Seteth sports a potbelly now, the bundle of flab a brand new addition in all his years of living. Seteth's small bundle of flab that makes up his stomach isn't the only addition to him from all his binging. His entire frame is thicker, each limb sporting a small yet generous coating of flab; Seteth's arms a bit wider, the lean, defined musculature of his biceps are still there despite the extra bit of fat on him. His thighs are the same. His legs are in a snug yet somehow still comfortable state with his pants. Thankfully, Seteth has his pants covered by his outfit. Not that Seteth needs to upsize his attire. He comes close to needing it however. His sleeves are already a bit loose fitting. The white fabric still has some extra stretch and give to them. And his overcoat manages to still keep every single button without popping. His chest does struggle slightly with stretching the fabric, the blue material taut against his budding man boobs. Unlike the rest of his outfit, Seteth forgoes his belt due to his belly.

"I-he couldn't have…" Seteth stares down at his seated frame. His pudgy frame far from apparent, he still glares at the small amount of flab that becomes ever so slightly more noticeable with him sitting. The trickling sensation of being peckish begins to invade his thoughts even as his lips are unsatisfactorily upturned at his figure.

"I already ate lunch," Seteth grumbles to himself. Able to determine that he has in fact been cursed by something, he still holds out on being hopefully wrong about his theory towards the cause of his current predicament. Regardless of the cause, Seteth's own willpower manages to suppress the magic to some extent. He refrains himself to only light snacks periodically throughout the day where he should be glutting out on entree sized dishes every so often. Though even he finds his mental fortitude slipping and weakening as the days go by with the curse's magic only tightening its grip around him much like his clothes. Especially around food. Every fiber in Seteth that tells him to get help always ends up reduced to nothing more than a feeble voice in the back of his mind when allured by the thought of eating and stuffing himself, to properly satisfy his cravings that he deserves to enjoy and fulfill. He even feels that his manners are starting to worsen. Not by much, he thankfully notes; his usually slow methodical eating to properly enjoy his meal and the effort that goes into such a fine treat has slowly turned into more rushed bites and hurried chewing to allow himself to eat more even faster.

Nearly certain of the culprit, Seteth forlornly stares at the seemingly innocent box of chocolates that are still on his desk. After some moments, he closes his eyes and sighs. A deep breath fills his entire being, the same determination coursing through him when he wielded his spear countless years ago. Seteth grabs the box and with a speed that surprises even him, he holds the awful creation over his trash can.

His fingers clenched around the box and his throat suddenly parched, his calm demeanor breaks into a near painful frown as he slams the box back onto his desk and opens it. He crams the chocolate down his throat, half of the remaining chocolate frantically and messily shoved against his lips. He barely even tastes the addictingly sweet confections. His pathetic moans come out choked, the slightly melted chocolate muffling his whines.

Seteth's face and hands are a mess after his sudden action. Staring at the last quarter of chocolate that remains, his blank stare quickly turns into a scornful glare. Not at the chocolates, but at the oh so nice person who gave them to him.

Thoughts churn in Seteth's mind—stuffing himself with food always on the periphery of each and every single idea—as he plots out his revenge.

The magic so deeply rooted in his mind and body now, Seteth doesn't even have an inkling of a thought to reverse his situation.

_____________

Currency watching his obese lab rat up close, Linhardt doesn’t need to put much effort into hiding his person watching.

Linhardt no longer needs to worry about much anything nowadays with Seteth off his case regarding anything and everything. Originally giving the chocolate for revenge for Seteth always pestering him over deadlines far away and over countless upon countless thinly veiled guidelines offered as tips, even Linhardt hadn't expected his magic to work so potently.

Seteth is an absolute butterball now. Currently eating away, his size and gluttony no longer causes a scene anymore with it just another part of daily life in Garreg Mach. He uses his own seat, the center of the bench taken over by Seteth's large figure. The back of his large ass spills off the bench and his thighs are squished and pressed against the front edge of the bench. His stomach sags far down onto his lap. At least, the portion of his gut that isn't crammed against the table, the wood partially upholding Seteth's massive belly that's heavy enough to cradle with two sets of arms and still struggle to support and fat enough to sag past his blubbery fat pad that is snugly pressed in-between the lard of his gut and thighs. And his heavy chest that is burdened by the weight of all the lard that's accumulated and piled onto each swollen tit rests on his gut like a heavy, busty shelf. Both of Seteth's breasts splay out on both sides of his gut. So fat, they press against his own blubbery love handles. And also his arms that are wider than his pudgy face as they reach forward at the table that is ladened with numerous plates, each platter filled with a variety of food.

Seteth devours his food without abandon. So focused on satisfying his cravings that grow with every single day, he thinks about nothing else.

Gazing at Seteth's frame, Linhardt leaves the mess hall as soon as he finishes his own lunch, an averaged sized portion of Daphnel stew. He heads back to his office.

The walk back is uneventful, Linhardt only occasionally stopped by simple greetings and minor pleasantries. The only surprise he gets is a tiny wooden box on his desk. "A gift?" Linhardt raises a brow as he walks to his desk. He opens the small box and finds tea bags along with a near blank white card that only has Byleth's signature.

Linhardt brings one of the tea bags to his nose and gives it a small whiff. "Oh, Angelica tea," He excitedly says as he smells the earthen, peppery base scent that's followed by an after note of citrus. He immediately puts his tea pot to boil water. And he pours the boiling water into his already prepared mug. The aroma of his favorite tea wafts in the air. His stomach gurgles while he waits for his tea to finish.

Feeling a bit peckish, Linhardt reaches into his drawer of snacks and begins to munch on some of his safely stored almond cookies.

His hunger doesn't dissipate even as he snacks on the treats. Unaware of receiving his own curse back to him, all seven of the tea bags are chock full of the magic reverse engineered by Seteth, the card also forged by him so as to not possibly give away. Linhardt doesn't think about anything as he takes a careful sip of the still hot tea, the just barely drinkable liquid managing to go down his throat smoothly without coming close to scalding his tongue or throat. His stomach gurgles after drinking the beverage. Which he helps satisfy by eating another two cookies.

"I guess a little cheat day won't hurt," Linhardt mumbles to himself. He takes another sip of his tea, his hunger increasing as he unknowingly falls prey to his own curse.

_____________

“He would've shown up at least 30 minutes ago,” Linhardt eats his breakfast for the day. Well, his first breakfast, the large vegetable omelet paired with crispy chunks of potatoes his starter meal for the day before his larger second serving of juicy meats accompanied by more potatoes a couple hours later. He eats at a hurried pace, as if the meal is going to suddenly disappear right in front of his eyes.

Linhardt is rather fat. Already past his pudgy phase that only lasted for a few days, he weighs 316 pounds according to his scale earlier today. His clothes are less pristine than normal; the normally crisp fabric has a few wrinkles in it from his rush to go grab breakfast after his morning Angelica tea and full tray of snacks. Even his hair is less tidy, a few strands of hair loose along with a less neatly made bun to keep all his hair out of his face. His pants thankfully hide the amount of girth stockpiled on his rear, his lower half easily the largest aspect of him. Despite only just surpassing the three hundred pounds of man fat, his ass already takes up most of the space in his chair and even comes dangerously close to being fat and wide enough to get wedged inside what should usually be roomy space. Thankfully, his stomach is much smaller than the rest of his engorged frame. He does still have a sizable little gut that constantly yearns for more and more food as the days go by however. The stretch fabric of his clothes hug and outline the soft round shape of his belly. It also shows off the flabby circumference of his waist; the once narrow frame bulges with flab. His chest stretches out his clothes but not too uncomfortably. The back of his outfit is much worse when it comes to being revealing though. Every stretchable fiber in the fabric reaches and wraps around his flabby, bulky backside to illustrate just how wide he’s gotten in such a short time. The fabric of his sleeves now drape against his love handles. The biggest issue his outfit gives him is his collar; the buttoned fabric slightly squeezes the bit of pudge he has on his neck and budding double chin.

Linhardt well aware of being affected by his own magic, he can't bring himself to care about the effects of the curse. He only worries about satisfying his intensifying cravings. Which he temporarily does after finishing his large plate. And curiosity gets the best of him. Heading back to the hallway meant for faculty, he doesn’t return to his office; instead, he walks into Seteth’s room.

His thoughts are confirmed upon the sight of Seteth.

Seteth so large, his mobility has become an issue for the morbidly obese man quite some time ago. Yesterday’s meal and the accompanying midnight snacks are apparently the final amount of food that stops his corpulent body from lifting itself up. Seteth is now bedbound. The frame of the bed dangerously creaks underneath all his enormity, the wood somehow still standing. His enormous gut rises high into the air, the fat piled on top of itself giving it extra height along with his fattened chair crushing ass. Seteth’s comparatively small feet barely stick out from underneath the mound of blubber. His feet are swaddled in a layer of fat from his calves and ankles that meld together from all his flab. His thighs are blanketed under his gut, each swollen barrel sized thigh unable to move underneath his weight that pins him down. Though even if Seteth could move, walking is out of the question, his pathetic waddling yesterday the product of several tired, wheezes and a determination to fill his aching, famished gut. Seteth’s arms lay uselessly to the side of him. Each arm juts at an angle with the fat from his breasts in the way. His chest now presses against his flabby flour bag sized arms in the way. And at the very top of all of Seteth’s corpulence is his panting blubbery mess of a face, Seteth reduced to barely able to communicate with him now so fat and heavy that all he can think about is eating more to try and calm the beast for a stomach.

“Ough…please, so *wheeze* hungry…”

Despite not being able to see much of Seteth, Linhardt can at least hear Seteth’s desperate pleas for food and whines over being starving; something he doesn’t doubt, Linhardt all too aware of his own hunger pangs when he tries to put off eating. “Thankfully, I already have a spell planned for this,”

Seteth has to catch his breath before he can respond. But thankfully, his gut responds for him. His entire frame wobbles. Each roll of heaping amount of flab sloshes against each other. The motion is the last bit of pressure for the bed, the frame cracking and breaking underneath Seteth’s weight. “Thank you. Need food…” Seteth pays no mind to his own immobilized corpulence, only thinking about eating upon hearing Linhardt’s confession.

For Linhardt’s part, he doesn’t think much about Seteth’s hedonistic self either. He focuses all his attention into properly casting his spell and is rewarded with perfectly summoning a portal alongside two feeding tubes. “I’m sure you’ll need another one later anyways,” Linhardt places one tube in Seteth’s mouth who accepts the feeding mechanism and begins to guzzle away at the food that pours down his throat in torrents.

Seteth thanks Linhardt in deep moans, unable to speak while glutting.

And Linhardt only walks away soon after, yawning and thinking about taking his second breakfast early before a nap, only caring about now satisfying his hunger like Seteth has instead of caring about how he is following in Seteth’s ponderous footsteps.

_____________

“I…” Linhardt takes deep breaths after his meal. Eating for an entire hour and a half—and just for breakfast, his meal sized snacks before breakfast adding another half hour—he leans back into his chair. Well, Seteth’s chair, the seating used by Linhardt now that Seteth no longer fits into it. Or anything else with him immobilized a week ago. Linhardt is now unable to control himself; small remnants of the sauces from his food remain on his sagging cheeks. He has one hand on his gut. He lazily pats at the mass of fat that is now large enough to fill out an entire armchair. He slowly wipes away the mess on his face with his other hand. Linhard is now more than twice his weight. He easily surpasses the six hundred pound benchmark to even be rapidly closing in on seven hundreds. His large, hefty gut rests comfortably on his massive thighs that are wide and bulky enough to struggle to fit in a doorway now. Each thigh that is, the two thick enough to struggle even with doorways twice their normal width when combined. His thighs also make walking an extremely difficult chore for Linhardt. He has to waddle, the slow, feeble attempts much more difficult now compared to a couple hundred pounds ago when he first needed to lift and sluggishly swing one massive thigh past another just to move around. Linhardt’s ass completely smothers the bench; the reinforced bench is completely hidden underneath all his immense flab besides for the very sides of it that his shapeless ass doesn’t reach. Much like his gut, his chest has little in the way of flab compared to his lower half. The two meaty breasts press against his too tight top, the sides of the shirt bulging from his chest. And his gut seeps past his shirt, the pale creamy skin exposed.

Linhardt sits in place for a few moments, more like ten minutes, before beginning the arduous task of standing up. The bench visibly rises with it no longer having to support his ass for the day. Or ever again.

Linhardt waddles out of the mess hall and slowly walks towards one of the outer edges of Garreg Mach. It takes him several minutes alongside multiple stops, but he does reach his destination, albeit extremely exhausted as he wheezes and his fat face bulges with the gulps of air he takes. He thankfully has the frigid air to aid him in gathering up his energy. Sensing that his time of mobility is coming to a close, he lets out a sigh of relief upon arriving at the auditorium.

He makes his way deeper into the abandoned auditorium. Well, formerly abandoned with Seteth now taking up residence inside with him having outgrown his room yesterday.

At the very center of Seteth’s gluttonous frame that nearly crushed the walls to his bedroom is his face. His porcine jowls splay out on both sides of his face, each massive cheek fat enough to just barely sag down to his flabby, tire sized neck that squishes against his budding fifth chin. His enormous stomach spread out in front of him. The pile of lard is large enough to fill up an entire carriage. The sagging pair of breasts that rest on top of it are comparable to armchairs at their size, each tit near the size of a person with how easily Seteth has let himself go. His arms are completely useless, both arms forced to the side from the fat from his torso and from the very own fat in his arms. The limbs resemble cylinders of fat stacked on top of each other. His thighs are the exact same, only on a much grander, larger scale with each leg larger than a couch. Much like his stomach, Seteth’s back spreads out and smothers the ground behind him. His back is littered with backrolls and fat that juts out from both sides. His ass has the bare minimum of a shape to it, his ass large enough to take up the entire surface area of a bed and crush it.

And Seteth absolutely enjoys the grandeur of his enormity. He chugs away at the food that slams down into his mouth like a waterfall with the aid of two feeding tubes now.

All Linhardt can do is stare at the parts of Seteth that he can, unable to get a full view of such a pile of lard for a man. A glimmer in his eyes, his stomach churns at the hedonistic pleasure in front of him. Linhardt’s brain listens to his gut like it has ever since drinking the tea and falling to his curse just like Seteth. “Looks like I have some catching up to do,” Linhardt casts the very same spell he used for Seteth and promptly appeases his ravenous gut by cramming both tubes in his mouth. He takes a seat on his plush ass and allows himself to devolve into a mess of moans like his larger roommate.

Neither of the men care about modesty or sensibility, the two entirely content to keep eating and growing fatter as they reach higher and higher weights.

#fat emblem #writing #weight gain

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