#fat!threehouses

[pangtasias-atelier]

A late Season's Greetings from Set/eth who looks to definitely be enjoying the holiday treats. Though it looks like he's been enjoying treats all year round~

A YCH commission done by @WishyIshi over on Twitter.

#i woke up and decided to post this #now to go to bed cause it's barely 7am #fat emblem #stuff i commissioned #fat!seteth #fat!threehouses

[pangtasias-atelier]

Could I please request a continuation of the Byleth and His Three Fatties story. But with a slight twist. Maybe we can get some insight as to how the three of them act when Byleth isn't around? With all the fun bedroom shenanigans!

And here we have the final request of this batch! Once again, thanks for being so patient, and especially for the kind words of encouragement in our talks! Had a lot of fun (as shown by the length anbdhbs) so I hope you enjoy!

All smut will be tagged #risque

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The long oak table currently seating one hungry diner, a bevvy of dishes rest in front of them. Caspar digging in, his heavy gut presses firmly against the table. Seeping onto the table itself, his sprawling gut also rests on his meaty thighs. Though his hefty lower body seems rather small with how much room his stomach commands and takes up. But his fleshy thighs twist and strain his ill-fitting boxers, the hem creating a concavity in his soft ample thighs. His ass, while dwarfed by the rest of him, still offers some extra height upon sitting down, Caspar no longer as seemingly short as before. Sporting two sizable jugs for moobs, Caspar’s tank top is more reminiscent of a sports bra. The black fabric clings and wraps around his breasts, the bottom hem of his shirt digging into the fleshy underneath of Caspar’s moobs. Food Caspar’s first order of business upon waking from his deep snore filled slumber, his hair is a tad bit more unkempt. The shaved sides of his hair are the same as always but the tuft of Caspar’s hair is a bit more grown, the surprisingly soft blue wisps splay out in all directions. His corpulent chins wobble with each heaving swipe he takes at his buffet for breakfast, Caspar cramming a mouthful with each hurried bite. Focusing on the hashbrowns, Caspar’s preference for loading up on filling carbs is no different from his workout days. The bottom flab of his stomach slowly firms up with every plate, the soft mass rounding out.

Letting out a yawn, Caspar leans back into his poor chair. The chair thankfully lacking any arms, Caspar’s stomach has enough room to rest and spread comfortably. Bringing a hand to his face, his doughy arms jiggle as he rubs the crust from his eyes. Caspar rests his free hand on his stomach. Rubbing it, he smacks his lips, the sweet sticky syrup from the pancakes still dancing on his lips. Decently loud snoring in the background, Caspar pays it no mind.

“Hey!” The second should be occupant of the table just now arriving, Ashe’s tidied appearance is in contrast to Caspar. His neatly kempt hair a new fixture from his old haircut, the medium length gray hair is still just as well maintained, Ashe’s hair still parted perfectly. Ashe’s body also contrasts Caspar, Ashe heavily pear shaped. A shelf for an ass wobbles behind him as he waddles. Bringing a corpulent thigh past the other, Ashe’s gait is slow. His sweatpants are unable to reach over his hill of an ass; instead, the upper fat of his ass sneaks out, squished by the tight waistband. His stomach jiggles to and fro with each step, the soft paunch contained by his gray tshirt, albeit snugly. His perky yet supple moobs shake as well. Huffing, Ashe carries two plates in his hands. The sleeves wrapped around his arms, they leave a notable indent. His arms quiver under the whopping food piled onto both. A large stack of pancakes topped high on each plate. A penchant for anything and all sweet, Ashe’s craving sweet tooth only intensified as more and more extra pounds piled upon his short frame.

Placing both plates on the table, Ashe takes a seat on the extra chair; Ashe’s ass covers the entire spot, both sides of his asscheecks hanging off. Clearing his throat, Ashe sits up straight. His paunch rests against the table. “Those dishes were supposed to be for all of us,” Frowning, Ashe keeps his plates of pancakes close by. Cutting into them, his arms admittedly feel tired from the taxing effort, so used to having Byleth cut them for him. Hearing the slumbering Sylvain snore away, Ashe ignores it in favor of his own food, doing the exact same as Caspar by worrying about his own hungry gullet first.

“I left you your pancakes, didn’t I?” Boh hands rubbing his massive belly now, Caspar lets out a burp before sighing. “Besides, there’s still tons more in the kitchen,”

“Well, yeah,” Ashe admits, taking a bite of his syrup soaked pancakes. “But you could’ve waited at the very least,”

“I gotta keep up my weight,” Letting out a chuckle, Caspar flexes his left arm, the flab from his arm instead sagging instead of flexing in any meaningful way. Resting his right hand on his nonexistent bicep, his right arm simply presses against his plush moobs, the overgrown melons seemingly larger. “Gotta make sure I give myself all the extra attention Byleth’s been giving me as of late,”

Mouth chock full of pancakes and syrup, Ashe takes a swig from his milk. Quickly washing down the food, a tactic Byleth taught him to eat faster, Ashe lets out a heavy breath. “Byleth has been giving me special attention too,” Ashe bristles, his tone a bit more forced than before, a frown marring his round face before he goes back to stuffing his face.

As if giving any sort of meaningful examination from his seat, Caspar rests a large hand under his chin as his eyes roam all over Ashe’s body. “Hmm,” Standing up, his bare skin wobbles, the soft billowing mass pulled down from gravity. Behind Ashe, Caspar sinks both his hands onto Ashe’s breasts. “Yeah, you are starting to fill out a lot more up here. I’ve heard how Byleth praises you while you’re underneath him and panting as-” Sporting a bit of a chubby down there, Caspar grins at Ashe’s flustered state.

Swallowing the bit of pancake in his mouth, Ashe feels his face burning. “Well, I can hear you too!” Ashe responds matter-of-factly. Caspar meekly grins. “I can hear how much you whine and beg for Byleth to keep his hands-”

A particularly loud snore rumbling through the large space, both Ashe and Caspar quiet down. The snoring still going, it dies down back to its usual level.

“But, you’re not as loud as Sylvain is,” Ashe whispers, his sweatpants as tight around his groin as Caspar’s boxers.

“Hah! He’s always complaining about how he’s still got it and whatnot,” Caspar grins, shaking his head as the thought of Sylvain’s incessant claims fill his head. “So,” Caspar grabs Ashe’s hand. “Let’s go see if it’s true,” Caspar, leading the way, the two waddling men make their way to Sylvain’s room.

“Wait, what?” Ashe bumbling behind, his paunch nearly presses up against Caspar’s portly rear. If their positions were swapped, then they’d be practically on top of one another. The scene reminiscent of the two’s semi common ‘get togethers’ Ashe rapidly blinks, Sylvain’s room closer and closer with each successive blink.

“You heard me,” Caspar lets out a triumphant hmph as they stand in front of Sylvain’s closed door. Sylvain’s snoring sounds much louder as well. “We’ve seen how we’re in bed, so let’s see how Sylvain compares,”

Caspar’s lack of tacit throws a wrench in the cogs of Ashe’s brain, words unable to leak out of his mouth as he looks on at Caspar wide-eyed. “W-well, yes we have been intimate with each other, and,” Collecting his thoughts, Ashe lets out a contemplative huff. Shifting his weight, his sweatpants struggle under the shift, sagging down some more.

“And?” Eyes purposefully not drifting to how Ashe’s ass sticks out behind him, his mind instead thinks about Sylvain’s the man’s prodigious figure more enticing. The exploration much like a brand new expedition to uncharted lands, so many unknown and new folds to touch and feel.

“And we should give him a surprise since Byleth isn’t here today,” Bringing a fist into his open palm, Ashe’s little lie to ease his conscience aids him in achieving his excited state, a cat-like grin adorning his face. Pushing forward, the unlocked door easily swings open for the two obese intruders.

Upon entering, his ass brushing against the doorway in the process, Ashe stands stupefied at the pile of blubber that is sleeping on the massively sized mattress. A big belly pushing him from behind, two hands then push Ashe out of the way.

“What’s the hold...!” Caspar whispers, before standing just as in awe as Ashe. “..up…”

“He’s huge,” Ashe whispers. He instinctively takes cautious steps towards Sylvain. Beside Sylvain, his huge stomach rises with each heavy snore he emits.

“Damn, he sure is,” Caspar on the opposite side of Sylvain, he licks his lips upon the sight,

Sylvain sleeping on his back, his titanic gut rises up into the air, the mass of fat shifting and quivering upon each inhale and exhale. The crest of his gut rising a good three feet, the rest of his stomach cascades down, blanketing his own body in a hefty dosage of fat. Rolls adorning his body, Sylvain’s meaty love handles splay out, each as thick as a pillow. Two monstrous tree trunk thighs popping out from underneath, the sheer width of them refuse to be outshone by Sylvain’s gut. Clearly demonstrating his lack of restraint, the fat from Sylvain’s cankles even overlap, the folds of his thighs folding. His titanic breasts larger than his own roly poly face, the two prodigious tits press up against Sylvain’s chins. Sylvains saucers for nipple take up a good portion of his chest. Arms pushed aside from the bundle of fat occupying his breasts, they rest useless to the side. Pressed up against the satin sheet, the bunched up fat seems much more tantalizing, Sylvain’s arms massive. A mitt for a hand attached at the end, those in turn have portly sausage fingers, the small bundles of fat close to one another.

Sylvain’s massive form puts both Caspar and Ashe to shame. Each priding on their stomach and ass respectfully, Sylvain’s figure is larger than both while being equally massive everywhere.

Snickering to himself, Caspar edges his way down the bed. Enough space, he climbs on the bed. A dangerous creaking filling the room with two large men on top, Caspar pays it no mind. His boxers tighten up further as he gets closer to his goal. In front of Sylvain’s stomach, Caspar takes great caution to not step on Sylvain’s rolls of fat with his knees.

Sylvain still snoring away, he keeps going strong even as Caspar rests his weight on Sylvain’s gut. Even still when Caspar worms an experienced hand in between his stomach and thigh folds.

Ashe aware of Caspar’s plan, he wastes no time in disrobing. T-shirt thrown to the side, he struggles removing his sweatpants before tossing those as well. Boxers the last to go, Ashe climbs the bed as well, the creaking much louder now. Sylvain’s hole hidden from lying down and his dick currently occupied by Caspar, Ashe paws at Sylvain’s fat, smushing and grabbing the abundant folds.

A wrist deep just to reach Sylvain’s dick, Caspar huffs as he hugs Sylvain’s stomach with his right hand. Giving a tentative touch to Sylvain’s flaccid dick, Sylvain pauses his snoring to huff. But only for a second before he resumes his snoring, still blissfully in dream land. Sylvain’s dick already chubbing up from the simple touch, Caspar moans. Despite Sylvain's fat pad surrounding his dick, Caspar can still feel it's girth, Sylvain well endowed.

“I’ve barely touched him and he’s already hard,”

Ashe removes his mouth from Sylvain’s saucer like nipples. “He probably can’t reach himself,” Ashe only aware of such a thing due to his and Caspar’s growing difficulty with said task, he resumes playing with Sylvain’s nipples, pinching them. An idea forming in his head, he gets off the bed and waddles out of the room, one of his hands fondling his own dick, his fat pad pushed back far from the exertion.

“Fuck…” Caspar groans from the realization. His boxers feel ready to tear apart, and not just from the pathetic size of them. His dick sinks into Sylvain’s stomach, the fat warping around it. Sylvain’s dick sufficiently hard, he gently wraps his hand around it. Easing into it slowly, Sylvain’s snores die out just as slowly.

Little moans sounding out from Sylvain, Caspar begins to pick his pace, a dribble of precum smears his hand. Using his thumb, he eases the tip of Sylvain’s dick; a particularly loud moan comes from Sylvain.

The creaking of wheels coming from behind his back, Caspar picks up his pace, mentally thanking Ashe. The cart full of nothing but pancakes, Caspar holds back his eye roll.

Reaching the shaft of Sylvain’s dick, his skin pulled back, seems to break the dam. A splooge of Sylvain’s cum splattering over Caspar’s hand, Sylvain huffs and groans as he wakes up.

“Byleth?” Sylvain yawns.

“Nope,” Ashe at the ready, he crams an entire rolled pancake inside Sylvain’s mouth before bringing his hand to Syvlain’s mouth.

Sylvain instinctively chewing, he goes to complain about the dryness of it, no syrup provided. Instead, his mouth ends up assaulted from Ashe squeezing the syrup straight from the bottle and into his mouth. The sweet sticky syrup piling up all in his mouth, his words feel slurred, so much more lethargic.

“Where’s Byleth?” Some sort of liquid smeared on his stomach, Sylvain pays it no mind, instead greedily accepting another pancake from Ashe. Feeling spent, Sylvain’s well rested brain connects the dots, his cum stained fat pad making the job easy.

“Went out, that’s all he told us,” Caspar appears beside Sylvain once more. Grabbing Sylvain’s hand, Ashe does the same. Both of them pulling with all their might, and Sylvain helping, he finally is seated on his bed, his fat now sagging forward instead of all directions.

“Thanks, and listen, I don’t mind, but if we’re gonna fuck, then I get to take charge,” Putting on his showstopping grin, Sylvain’s grin dies as Caspar laughs at him, Ashe snickering as well.

“We can hear how Byleth tops you,”

“And seen,” Ashe chimes in, remembering when Byleth took Sylvain right in front of them upon Sylvain’s insistent demands of getting to top Byleth.

“Yeah yeah. That’s ‘cause if I topped him, then he’d probably break under all of this hot bod,” Confident face losing the facade, Sylvain begins to feel rivulets of sweat form on his forehead as both Ashe and Caspar retain their grins.

"You are big as hell," Caspar grabs Sylvain's love handle, shaking the mass. A chain reaction occuring, Sylvain's body shakes like the ocean, billowing fat smacking each other. "You'd probably crush us too,"

The two grabbing Sylvain's hands once more, they use their other hand to help move Sylvain once more. Heaving him up, Sylvain's body tremors as they push him on his stomach. A good amount of adjusting to position him just right, Sylvain's hill of a dimpled ass rests high above him.

"H-hey!" Grunting, Sylvain's arms wobble as he attempts to lift himself up. Falling back down into his plush, supple moobs, he catches his breath. Ashe smacking his ass with a resounding slap, Sylvain feels his spent dick already firming up again. Taking charge was fun and nice, but to be fucked senselessly… Eyes closed, Sylvain shakes his head, forcibly yanking the thought out of his horny addled brain.

Unfortunately, an already lubed sausage finger tapping at his entrance shoves it back in, Sylvain whimpering. A fork brought to his mouth, Sylvain finds a now nude Caspar standing in front of him with a plate. Stomach grumbling, he opens wide, the still warm hash browns smoothly going down his greedy gullet. A bite turns into a couple before the entire plate of hash browns ends up devoured, Sylvain's blubbery stomach still craving more. Pancakes offered next, the heavy carbs trudge their way into their rightful spot in the pit known as Sylvain’s stomach. Crammed into his mouth whole, the vigorous chewing distracts Sylvain’s mind, his soft billowing gut ever so slightly firming up. Syrup poured down his throat, his adam apple bobs as he laps up the viscous liquid. Parched, a few mewls has Caspar at the ready, a pitcher of milk brought to his lips.

A heavy weight resting on him, Sylvain's hands cling and curl around the bedsheets, Ashe's dick at his hungry entrance.

"Still think you're a top?" Unwilling to hold off any longer," Ashe immediately goes to town on Sylvain's ass. His own fat body shaking, the quivering mass that is Sylvain's quakes. The bed reminds them all of its precarious situation, the frame not equipped to handle such a dangerously high weight. Fat slapping against fat, Ashe's engorged dick easily slides in-between the soft rolls of fat making up Sylvain's ass.

"Y-eah, of course…" Sylvain's back arches as high as he can, his stomach pressing deep into the mattress. "Yeah, I'm a-" Another forkful ready, Caspar has scrambled eggs now. His body shaking back and forth with each hump, Sylvain's body becomes increasingly hotter. Gut chock full of food, the stuffed sensation is no stranger to Sylvain. Despite doing none of the actual work, two large warm bodies pressed up against him as they have their way with him has him breathing heavily.

His dick left painfully unattended, the friction from his fat pad is sufficient enough. Balls churning, a shove forward from an eager Ashe has Sylvain ejaculating all over; the dried sticky fat pad adds some more fresh cum. A pair of brusque forceful lips on his own, Sylvain finds himself pulling himself forward to the gesture.

Caspar pressing his lips against Sylvain’s, his tongue darts inside Sylvain’s readily open maw. Stubby hand reaching under Sylvain’s chins, Caspar helps raise up his face, gazing at him with half lidded eyes. Breath required for both of them, Caspar pulls back, his moobs rising and falling with every labored breath. Bringing his hands to Sylvain’s cheeks, he pulls and squishes them. “You really are damn adorable,”

Sylvain mutters in response, his face just as flushed as before. A whine escapes him as Caspar stands up. Ashe pulling out only has Sylvain a bigger mess, the lack of warmth sending a chill up his spine.

Ashe still raring to go, he shifts on his knees. Hands slowly pumping his dick, his legs twitch as he almost cums. Slowly inching his way, Ashe finds his perfect spot. Touching himself, his legs slowly spread as he tilts his head back, Ashe growing louder. So painfully close, he unabashedly moans as he cums, his seed ending up all over Sylvain's side.

Taking his time, Ashe slowly eases himself off of the bed.

"W-wait!" Grunting, Sylvain's huffing and puffing face betrays him.

"We're not done yet," Casper gleefully announces. Making his way to Sylvain’s ass, Caspar traces his girthy fingers across Sylvain’s body before parking himself right in front of Sylvain’s entrance. Wasting no time like Ashe, Caspar girthy dick penetrates Sylvain's gaping chasm.

Sylvain's dick woefully spent, it still has blood flowing to it, his dick painfully hard. Reaching down, his hand barely makes it to the edge of his stomach. Too much fat barricading his dick, Sylvain grunts as he futilely tries to reach.

Ashe taking Caspar’s old residence in front of Sylvain’s face, the plump overfed face makes his heart swell, beads of sweat trickling down Sylvain’s  half lidded face as he attempts to catch his breath. Leaning down, his prodigious ass sticks in the air as he gently brings his lips to Sylvain’s. Squirrel cheeks pressing up against his own, Ashe holds his spot, Sylvain putty in his hands. Pulling back, Ashe huffs, his dick hard once more. “We should - we need to spend more time together,”

Sylvain finds himself humming in agreement, words unable to be uttered as Caspar continues to pound his ass.

Ashe finding it unfair how Caspar got to give Sylvain a hand job, he decides to do one better. Climbing on to the bed, he rests his belly on Sylvain's head. Positioning himself, the need is unnecessary, Sylvain happily accepting Ashe's dick.

Caspar still pounding away at Sylvain's ass, his sprawling gut makes it difficult, the blanket of fat sprawled over on the rolling plains of Sylvain's back. Balls smacking, Caspar grips into Sylvain's ass for dear life. "No fair," Caspar grunts, his breath shallow. Caspar picks up the pace, hands leaving imprints on Sylvain's ass now.

"Don't care," Sylvain expertly slurps away. His skillful tongue works wonders on Ashe as it happily licks at the tip of Ashe’s dick.

Unwilling to be left behind, Ashe takes charge, face fucking Sylvain. Hands gripping Sylvain’s fiery red locks, Ashe huffs. His knees shaking under him, the wide legs shake from their overuse, Ashe nearly ready to fall over and lie down.

Pounded away from both ends, Sylvain can only offer muffles mixed in with his small breathy groans, his brain unable to think of anything meaningful. His entire body jiggles, two fat men fucking the obese man. The quick yet heavy breakfast from Caspar resting heavy in his stomach, his wobbling from being pounded on both sides causes it to churn and gurgle.

All three ignore the treacherous creaks and splinters of the frame underneath them, their own libido of much higher importance. Now a race to see who finishes first, Caspar ends up the winner. Falling against Sylvain's ass, his dick slowly softens. His semen filling up Sylvain's ass, dribbles of it trickle out. Ashe not far behind, he once again makes sure to pull out seconds before. A bit ending up in Sylvain's mouth, he happily swallows the sweet semen. Yet most of his ends up splattered on his face, Ashe painting Sylvain in his cum. All three resting, the painful splintering of the bed rings in their ears, even their tired pants drowned out by it. A few seconds passing, time seems to move at a standstill.

Until a deafening splinter sounds out. The frame finally gives out from underneath the incredulous weight stacked on top of it.

Plummeting much closer to the ground, all three of their corpulent bodies wobble, all their flab smacking against each other. The room quakes from the crash, furniture shaking as a result.

"Fuck…" Sylvain breathily moans as he attempts to catch his breath.

Legs worse than jello, the effort of standing up feels like the hardest task in the world for Caspar and Ashe. Moving Sylvain proceso even more challenging, all three read to sleep without a care. Getting Sylvain back up, they bring him back down on his back.

Caspar too tired to give a damn, he goes to nuzzle against Sylvain's stomach, pressing up against him as much as he can.

Ashe much the same, he pats Sylvain's stomach. "We'll clean up," Yawning, his jaw feels painfully sore from how wide he opens. "after a nap,"

Sylvain already asleep, his loud snores fill the calm and quiet air, Caspar's and Ashe's little snores sounding out as well.

Ashe and Caspar having some splooges of cum on them, neither of them compare to Sylvain's cum riddled body, their semen marked all over him. Cleaning up the least of their worries, they save it for later in the day. A couple hours passing by, noon soon hits the day. All three still asleep, none of them notice the door opening. Byleth returning from his long retreat, he brings a new addition in tow. Ferdinand behind Byleth, the extra couple of pounds on his frame are given away by his tight outfit. Spotting the debaucherous sight, their acts present on their bodies and by the musty smell, Ferdinand blushes.

"Soon, you'll be in that huge pile," Byleth whispers in Ferdinand's ear, laughing as he blushes yet nods, eager for said day to come.

#risque #risqué #fat emblem #fat!sylvain #fat!caspar #fat!ashe #fat!threehouses #ssbhm #fat fiction #male weight gain #mwg #my writing

[pangtasias-atelier]

Since there has been a fair bit of talk about Claude here, I would highly recommend "Unrestrained Indulgence" on AO3  It features Claude cooped and on bed rest in Dimitri's castle. And ballooning under his care! 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27327313

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I just saw this cause Tumblr doesn't notify you when you get a submission (and cause I just haven't logged in today lol). And I read the fic and it was pretty good and enjoyable! Definitely recommend~

#not my work #fat!claude #fat!threehouses #submission

[pangtasias-atelier]

How about this: Felix has been eating cake very often, everyone has told him, he can't stop. He'll grow bigger and will realize that no matter how much he trains he cannot recover his figure, on the contrary everything gets worse. Someone will tell him it's out of control. Felix will refuse. Sudenly he feels is about to burst and BOOM. It was a dream. He had fallen asleep without finishing his cake. He will move it away in anger "Im NOT out of control" After a few minutes, he will eat it. Ty~ :3

This one got really long omg. And after shortening down the ideas I had for the other Blue Lions’ interactions lol

But! Another one I’m happy how it came out. Now I just wish I actually bettered myself and took like actual writing lessons but eh, focusing on other stuff right now.(Still wanna make sure I’m not fucking up and mixing tenses tho)

This was really fun to write, so I hope you enjoy!! Especially since you’ve made a bunch of good FE fats for us and thank you for that!~

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Felix doesn't know how it started, maybe it was a spell, new ingredients, a better chef, but it was something. Anything. Anything but his own fault.

All of a sudden his innate disdain for cake was replaced with a wanton need for it. Everyday, he needed some of it to satisfy his insatiable cravings for it. 

And despite the signs all pointing to a clearly obvious problem, Felix was the only one who refused to see it. Even as a bit of pudge began to form on his thin body.

The first had been Annette. 

On a visit to House Fraldarius, the day had been spent in relative uneventfulness, the day consumed with talks about their territories. It was upon dinner that the mood had changed.

Unable to control her expression, the puzzlement displayed on her face on a visit to House Fraldarius is evident to Felix, his features tightening in a scowl.

"Just say whatever it is your thinking instead of keeping it to yourself like those mindless gossipers," Felix spits out, already scowling.

"I'm surprised to see you of all people eating cake, Felix," Annette smiles at him. 

Felix responds with a scowl, his grip tightening. His slice of cake sits nearly finished, Felix almost devouring it entirely if it hadn't been for Annette interrupting him.

"You always hated the stuff,"

"Well, opinions change," Unwilling to deal with any comments over his shameful new preference for the decadent sweets, Felix simply stands up and walks away with his plate in hand.

It takes a couple of hours when he's cooled down from the conversation for him to leave his room. Unfortunately, despite the cover of night, he encounters Annette in the training grounds.

Casting a simple wind spell, the rush of air still flows faster than it should, both of their clothes willowing in the rapid gusts. 

Felix catches the glint of metal against the wall, Crusher resting. Deciding to head back, Annette turns around, face neutral. Caught, Felix sighs, resulting with his hand on his hip.

"I overreacted, what else do you want me to say?"

"An apology would be a nice start," Closing her tome, Annette wipes the sweat off her forehead, her hair disheveled. Grabbing Crusher, Felix forces himself to not visibly react at the way she easily grabs it and carries it.

"Sure, I'm sorry for whatever I did," Felix grumbles. Crossing his arms on his chest and resting on the heels of his feet, Felix makes out the way Annette's eyes quickly drift down this time before they don't, Annette making sure to be less obvious. 

“Don’t let it get out of control,” Annette offers, smiling.

Felix doesn't ask her what else she wants to say this time, biting his tongue back and blushing.

The second had been Ingrid.

The embarrassment of Annette noticing his slight paunch apparently hadn't been enough shame for Felix, his constant devouring of cake only worsening.

The small bump for a stomach grew into a large swell, clothes needing an upsizing by his tailors. His flat, sightly defined chest filled out with small flabby bumps. Yet it was his lower half that grew larger in proportion. His thighs became swaddled with a generous portion of overlapping fat, his graceful movements now slower and clunkier. The rise of his ass was a reminder to his size, his sizeable asset jostling about with each hefty waddle. 

Annoyed with having a visitor so soon again, Ingrid's usual calm disposition was relatively easy to deal with. As long as he didn't raise his own temper, her's wouldn't rise either. 

Except Ingrid had no sense of calmness, immediately going to fretting over Felix.

Felix who had been so agile and active. Felix who hated cake. Felix who had been 

"You do know you have a problem, right?" Ingrid asks over dinner, her eyes on Felix's plate of food, the portion much larger than before. The clanking of his fork on his plate only prompts Ingrid to speak more. “Of course you don’t,” Ingrid sighs. “You’re too busy criticising others and their issues that you don’t even see your own,”

“I don’t have a problem,” Felix leans back into his chair before he feels the heft of his own body resting on him, Felix sitting upright once again. Yet even in that position he feels the way his stomach seeps onto his thighs. 

“Really Felix?” Ingrid frowns, pushing her hair to the side. 

“I can work it off,” Felix gives in, only partially.

“Then you would have already,” Ingrid fights back. “It’s getting out of control,”

Yet no matter how much further she goes, Felix refuses to admit his issue. And so by the time Ingrid’s entourage and ride arrives, she finds it far better to simply leave and free herself of Felix’s own stubbornness than to deal with even more back and forth arguments.

Nothing learned, Felix pays no heed to Ingrid’s words, cake far more important. Any kind he could get his greedy hands on would do. Chocolate, vanilla, strawberry shortcake, cheesecake, lemon, regardless of the flavour, Felix felt the need to devour it all the same. 

His sense of time lessening, the only truly memorable moments was when he was stuffing himself with the delicious sweet contents of cake.

His waistline suffering for it, his own remarks of training off the extra abundant inches off his waist never came. Soon, walking became more difficult, chairs became too weak, doors too narrow, clothes too revealing. To Felix, everything else had an issue except himself. Even as he continued to grow fatter and fatter.

Most likely through Ingrid’s meddling, soon other former members of the Blue Lions came to check up on him. 

The third had been Mercedes. 

Her charitable nature and nice sensibility had led to her coddling him on her first day, Mercedes even baking a cake for Felix. That had apparently been a test, Felix failing it when he finished it in one sitting. Her kind coddling was only met with more detest on Felix’s end. 

Felix undeniably fat, his poorly fitting outfit was only more cause of concern on Mercedes’ end. Instead he had merely  thanked her for the cake before waddling away, his shelf of an ass wobbling behind him all the while.

The fourth and fifth had been Ashe and Dedue together.

The two specializing in cooking, Ashe’s own successful inn clearly showed on his short frame, Ashe containing a paunch. Dedue was the same as ever, his figure massively built and stacked.

Whereas Ashe was at most chubby, Felix was obese, his titanic rolls swaddling his body, his cheeks marring his own scowl and softening it. And instead of hedding both of their concerns, all Felix had were retorts to Ashe’s own size. 

The two didn’t remain long, Felix targeting both Ashe and Dedue for Ashe’s newfound weight alongside both no longer having the patience meant Felix had been free of their torment. 

Some dedication to his training grounds, and he’ll easily work off the extra weight is what Felix clings on to.

But those days never arrive, Felix happily gorging himself on cake and nothing but cake.

The sixth had been Dimitri.

Finally able to take the chance to get away from his own dealings as King of Fhirdiad, Dimitri instead had to deal with an annoyed Felix. Only a week after Ashe and Dedue’s visit, Felix had overall been the same out of shape angry person. 

Dimitri a passionate person, his scathing remarks had been the only ones to get Felix to shut up and listen. Pointing out Felix’s need for three chairs at the table, if he even bothered to walk instead of eating in his room, the way his body was inundated with rolls making even the simplest of tasks a chore for him to pull off, his increasing appetite that only would worsen with time. Dimitri had actually even made Felix use his training grounds for the first time since Felix could even see past his mountain, roll riddled gut. 

The pathetic speed Felix swung his sword only made Dimitri worry more, Felix struggling to even get a proper grip with his bingo wingo arms pressing against the side of his moobs. Felix’s complaints and asks for a break were ignored by Dimitri, forcing his friend to keep going. 

By the time Dimitri had left the next day, he left with hopes for Felix, Felix grumbling yet thankful for talking sense into him.

Except after a couple days, Felix’s own inability to control his appetite left him giving up, Felix merely reverting back to his gluttonous lazy self.

The seventh and last had been Sylvain.

Felix so far gone in his ravenous ways, the last vestiges of his own mobility was apparent. Sylvain had whistled upon sighting Felix, eyes wide open, unable to believe it himself. 

Where Dimitri embarrassed Felix to help him, Sylvain had done the opposite. Ridiculing Felix, Sylvain did it with the intention of putting him down. 

Grabbing Felix and forcing him to walk, Felix sweating and waddling by his side while he heaved and puffed all the while in between curses, Sylvain would tire him out only to leave him alone, Felix falling down to the floor with a resounding crash and staying there. Forcing him to sit on a single chair instead of the necessary four so he’d crush yet another piece of furniture. Pushing him into too narrow doorways only to leave him stuck inside, Felix too fat and wide to get through or push himself out. Barraging Felix’s entire body with powerful slaps to make his engorged body shake as if an earthquake had just occured.

Sylvain’s cruel methods had only reinforced the subconscious idea in Felix’s brain of why even bother. Unfortunately for Felix, Sylvain had stayed the longest, a month of disparaging remarks and acts endured by Felix. Sylvain had even left without a word, disappearing in the night.

Unwilling to act and far too fat to do so, Felix’s only companion was the increasing amounts of cake he devoured each day. The ability to one day quit and lose all of his weight always in the back of his mind, said day never came, Felix reaching immobility before he even had time to consider the possibility. Not that he ever would consider it, Felix too stubborn to think he’d let himself go this far. 

A feeding tube in his room, Felix hadn;t even remembered asking for such a thing, his mind in a constant haze of cake. Barely a couple hours after lunch, Felix was already on his fifth meal. Each lasting an hour, he only paused intermittently for a few minutes, his hunger quickly coming back. 

Bed completely covered in his own rolls, Felix can feel all his weight press down on him from lying on his back. Only able to stare at his tube and the ceiling, wiggling his fingers and toes are the only other things for him to do besides eating or sleeping. His ass encapsulating the bed and reaching the floor, Felix pays it no mind, focusing instead on guzzling the cake flavored whatever, Felix even uncaring about what it is he’s devouring. 

Reaching a full state, Felix mumbles past the tube, his incoherent words a jumble. Expecting the tube to turn off, it remains on, filling his stomach with a torrent of cake. Increasing his complaints, the only response is his feeding tube picking up in speed, Felix gurgling as he;s forced to devour it all. Chugging it, Felix feels himself expanding.

Stomach rising in the air and cascading all around like melted vanilla ice cream, his breasts flow and sink back down towards his face, his numerous neck rolls meeting them head on. His thighs become even more dimpled, the couch sized appendages forced even wider to accommodate the rapidly filling thighs as they grow larger and wider. His ass pushes him high in the air, Felix groaning as his large room becomes even more cramped, his now blob like body filling it.

His feeding continues, Felix groans, his eyes half lidded as he continues to guzzle. His stomach stiff, the stuffed state of it feels oddly relaxing, Felix giving in to the tube. Suckling it, Felix complains as his body finally reaches the edge of his room, fat reaching from corner to corner. Huffing,the cramped and compressed nature of it makes him complain. Body seemingly one large blob with no definition, joints seemingly improbable, the walls begin to crack and tumble as Felix grows ever fatter,his eyes even hard to keep open with so much fat clinging to his body. The floor even cracking underneath him, it takes no time for the whole area to explode, Felix’s body rushing out like a dam breaking.

Jolting up in his chair, Felix hisses as he hits his arm against his table. 

Alone in his room, Felix heaves as he checks himself. Nightclothes on, a simple pair of shorts and a shirt, the moon high in the sky notifies him of it being night. Grabbing his stomach, Felix grimaces as his hand wraps around a sliver of pudge. Sniffing, the aroma of strawberry assaults his nose. Turning to the table, Felix spots the remnants of a slice, a couple of forkfuls left. 

Sighing upon realizing it was all a dream despite the vividness, Felix leans back into his chair. Glaring at the cake, Felix stands up. Bones aching, he stretches, humming as they crack. The warm covers of his bed calling and reaching out to him, Felix takes a couple of steps. His stomach growling, the hunger calls and reaches out to im as well. Glancing at the bed, then the cake, and then finally his stomach, Felix frowns. Grabbing the plate, he swiftly devours the remains of the cake.

“I’m not out of control,” He grumbles to himself.

#My writing #ssbhm #fat!felix #fat!threehouses #male weight gain #immobility

[pangtasias-atelier]

Ferdinand left the Empire after what happened to his family and when he found out about Hubert's off-the-book executions and assassinations. Even still, Dimitri doesn't trust him, so he keeps a close eye on him. But instead, he notices Ferd gradually getting fatter. One day, he sees Ferd pop a button after eating and it's just too much. Dimitri decides to bring Ferd to his room, forcefeed him until he's ready to burst, then claim that plump Empire butt all for himself (NSFW Drabble)

Sooo, I had a lot of fun with this one ajdnshsms. It may have been just being able to write some simple chub stuff or also just finally getting to write on my laptop but here ya go!

I'm really proud of how this one came out so I hope you enjoy it!!

And the cheesecake portion was a bit based on how I felt eating half a cheesecake sjdkskns

All smut will be tagged #risque

_________________

Strands of golden hair mar Dimitri’s face as his reflection stares back at him. His soft light blue irises of his reflection peer away from Dimitri, the edge of his eyes crinkling as he splashes some more cold water on his face. Nearly deigning the thought of waterboarding himself, the thought tumbles out of his disoriented brain as another crazed and ridiculous scene takes hold of his imagination.

Long rich orange lock cascading down, the seamlessly flawless hair swishes behind its owner as they delicately step forward. Cape forgone, the once well-tailored coat now seems far too tight. The hint of a curvaceous ass bounces under the tight oppression of the mid-knee length coat, each movement and ripple only tempting Dimitri. A dark blue belt embroidered with gold, the obvious intent upon the outfit’s inception had been to elongate and slim its wearer. Now, it only does the opposite, their bulging midsection forced into two, the soft warm pudge from his upper abdomen and lower abdomen squishing to conceal most of the belt altogether. The puff of his enlarged chest makes the opening of his coat seem larger, bulging out further to give it depth. His red cravat rests on top of his chest, as if puffing his chest out. The outline of his adipose filled body rests under it, his arms making the sleeves bulge as well. New folds and wrinkles on his clothes where there once was none, the extra weight the clear culprit, its owner seems unbothered, no upsize or let out seams done to it. Armor unneeded, their blue pants constrict and hold back his squished, compressed legs, overhanging folds of flab visible. The figure turns to Dimitri, Ferdinand smiling and waving at him. Their filled out face only adds to their idiotic charm, their bright eyes and smile illuminating the cold darkness further. A sea of blue washes them away quickly enough.

Grunting, Dimitri’s soaking face heaves. Gripping the edge of the sink, his knuckles turn white, the delicate porcelain emitting a dangerous sharp crack before he lets go. Coughing, Dimitri yanks the nearest towel. Roughly blotting his drenched face, the low sting of the fabric scratching at his face is unnoticeable, the rise and fall of his chest more important. Rising to his full height, Dimitri shifts his efforts on drying his hair. Thin strands eventually fall back into place as they dry, Dimitri tossing the towel away. Taking a deep breath, he exhales, his broad shoulders sagging.

His stomach grumbling, Dimitri heads to the dining room. No sense of taste or smell really left, grabbing something to munch on then leave, sounds ideal.

Finding Ferdinand seated, the idea suddenly feels far less than ideal. The notion of slinking away unnoticed poofs away as Ferdinand spots.

“Ah, Prince Dimitri. A pleasure to see you!” Ferdinand jovially calls from his seat before rising.

Dimitri hopes imagining the cool splash of water helps calm down the heat rushing to his face, Ferdinand’s plump figure just as ripe as his vivid imaginations. In fact, the realization of his own thoughts underselling Ferdinand's figure only makes the rising heat worse.

“Prince Dimitri, are you perhaps unwell?” A delicate yet chubby hand rests against Dimitri’s forehead.

“I’m not your prince, you needn’t worry about me,” Dimitri gently extricates Ferdinand’s hand from his forehead.

“Nonsense, I swore my absolute fealty to one deserving of it,” Ferdinand doesn’t catch the hint, wrapping his arm around Dimitri. “While I must admit, my father may have tarnished our name, I, Ferdinand Von Aegir swear that the name till holds some decency to it,” Pressing an open palm to his soft moobs, Ferdinand bows, his long flowing hair suffering the effects of gravity, the same as his stomach.

To most others, Ferdinand’s words of bravado would sound none other than those of a pathetic socialite wishing to worm their way into whichever upper echelon of society. But to everyone else, Ferdinand’s manner of bearing his entire heart on his sleeve is his charm, the overly enthusiastic noble meaning well.

Originally a part of the Black Eagles house, Ferdinand had quickly become a fixture of the Blue Lions after a few months of Byleth’s cajoling. Upon Edelgard’s declaration of war, he had left for Adestria upon Byleth’s disappearance only to quickly come back upon hearing news of their return. The reunion with his former classmates had been moderately well received, Mercedes and Ashe no strangers to kindness, until Dimitri’s sighting of Ferdinand had nearly left the former Adrestian noble with a spear in his abdomen. With Byleth’s insistence, Dimitri had tsked but ultimately skulked away, his dreadful lumbering footsteps etching their way into everyone’s mind.

Dimitri still partially not all quite there, he had thankfully resigned ignoring Ferdinand just the same as everyone else, a tense uneasy partnership occurring between Dimitri and everyone else. It hadn’t been until much later that Dimitri snapped out of it, slowly easing himself back into the human emotions that he had casted away. And upon gaining focus on his fellow members, Dimitri’s eyes found that removing focus from Ferdinand was proving to be rather challenging.

And while a part of it had to do with his infectious cheerful nature, the other part of his clearly had to do with Ferdinand’s body. Lithe muscle nowhere to be found, the initial realization of enjoying the view of Ferdinand’s heft had led to some confusion before that strayed to wondering how it must feel, so warm and soft.

Which made it increasingly harder for Dimitri to speak to Ferdinand.

“Thank you,” Dimitri clears his suddenly parched throat. “Ferdinand,” Even speaking his name brings a trickle of warmth in his chest, the thought of whispering it to him, the two huddled together, clothes strewn about as-

“Of course. Well, I’m sure you must be famished after our sparring session earlier, you nearly rushed out after we finished,” Hand encapsulating Dimitri’s Ferdinand leads him back to his table, half his plate left uneaten.

The servers immediately bringing, a plate to Dimitri, the serving of chicken with vegetables is barely a spoonful more than Ferdinand’s remnants. Only a couple of bites into the meal, Dimitri’s fork hangs still, midway to his mouth, upon the sound of a dull ping hitting the floor. Reflexively looking around, Dimitri spots the culprit. Careful to not keep his mouth agape, a button on Ferdinand’s coat had popped off, his vest showing.

Ferdinand’s eyes wide, his hands scramble to cover the mishap.

Unable to process anything else, Dimitri stands up and grabs Ferdinand’s hand. Leading him away, Ferdinand’s puffs of complaints and questions draw some attention from the few people littered around the monastery at this semi-late hour. Upon reaching his room, the two step in, Ferdinand highly confused as he stutters out half-baked apologies, too focused on trying to hide the noticeable gap in his coat from his popped button.

Dimitri absorbing the situation, he balks at himself for being so rash. To drag Ferdinand to his room, all for what? For the unlikely chance of something more. And the far more likely chance of making things impossibly awkward between the two. Yet glancing back at the other man, Dimitri finds his worries washing away, Ferdinand staring at him with a sudden shyness.

“I…” Dimitri clamps his mouth, the trapdoor of awkwardness closing and opening. “I think you’re handsome,” His eye shut tight, the ensuing silence drives him mad, the silence unable to be stabbed like most other things.

“You truly believe so?” Ferdinand’s eyes already misting at the edge, his amber eyes remain in tentative shock. He reaches a shaky hand downward. “Despite all this?” Grabbing his stomach, the pile of supple fat only seems larger so up close.

“Because of all this,” Gently laying a hand on Ferdinand’s love handle, Dimtri brings him closer. One arm wrapped around him, the tight embrace allows him to feel nearly every inch of Ferdinand, everything so soft. Leaning down, Dimitri holds up Ferdinand’s chin, his thumb gently rubbing the edge of his lips. With bated breath, his lips crash into Ferdinand’s. The excessive force makes him stumble, Dimitri’s rough hand on his lower back keeping him steady. Huffing, Dimitri pulls back. His face a red shade, the tint is nothing but a red ant to the sun in comparison to Ferdinand’s blazing face.

“I have something I need to prepare. Don’t leave,” Turning around, Dimitri stumbles back at the awkward exit. Professing his love only to leave. Turning back around, he grabs Ferdinand’s hand with his own once more. “Please,” Gently squeezing it, Ferdinand nods, his face not losing a single tint to his radiant red hue.

Slowly making his way back into the hall, the instant Dimitri feels he’s out of ears reach, he rushes. Taking long strides, he scares the poor merchants in the marketplace with his sudden appearance. Knowing the time, the leftover selection from the bakery’s goods for the day are surprisingly still abundant. Nearly reaching for enough money to buy the entire selection, he calms his overactive brain. Setting on a somewhat more reasonable selection, he instead purchases an entire cheesecake.

The cake in hand, it takes all his nerves of dropping the cake to not rush back. Not even having been gone for what can possibly be more than a few minutes, the fear of Ferdinand leaving keeps his pace quick, Dimitri finding himself back in front of his door in no time.

The door nearly slamming open, Ferdinand jumps up. His stomach sloshing about, he gingerly places a hand on it. His eyes avert themselves from the cake in Dimitri’s hands, Ferdinand’s face flushed.

Wordlessly, Dimitri cuts a slice, the huge chunk a quarter of the entire cake. Ferdinand ready to accept, an insistent hand from Dimitri stops him. Grabbing a bit with a fork, Dimitri expectantly brings it to Ferdinand’s mouth, his good eye agape.

“Oh,” Letting out a chuckle, Ferdinand takes a gulp before taking a bite of the cake. His face alighting from the taste, Ferdinand happily accepts the second bite. And then the third. And then each ensuing bite until the slice is finished. Enough leverage allowed from one button already destroyed, the rest remain snugly but securely on his bulging stomach. Dimitri immediately cuts another slice. Ferdinand’s eyes widen, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. “I didn’t know you were into…” Ferdinand pauses, considering his words. “Such things,”

Dimitri nearly nods, bringing another bite to Ferdinand.

“If you insist,” Shakily taking another bite, the sweet cool creamy texture of the cake lulls him back to his enjoyment of the delicacy. Unfastening his belt, Ferdinand lets out a sigh before he sits upright, Dimitri’s free hand rubbing it. Another bite offered, Ferdinand keeps at, only slowing down near the end of the slice, both his hands on his own engorged stomach along with Dimitris. “Dimitri,” Ferdinand groans, huffing as he lies down. “I can’t anymore,” Pawing at his own belly, the mass of fat and food rises into the air with each strained breath.

A hand caressing his cheek, Ferdinand lets out an ‘oof’ as Dimitri helps him sit. His gut resting on his plump thighs, Ferdinand merely groans. A hand on his coat, he yelps as Dimitri tears it, the buttons flying across the room. A hand on his waistline, his suddenly unbuttoned pants give him some breathing room. His vest grabbed, Ferdinand obligingly lifts up his arms, the sense of freedom for his aching gut relieving. His undershirt goes next, both tossed into a heap on the floor. A hand tugging at his pants, Ferdinand pauses, resting his hand on top of Dimitri’s. Dimitri’s calm face staring at his, Ferdinand lets him continue, Ferdinand left in nothing but the tight fabric of his boxers.

Resting his back against the wall. Ferdinand continues to groan. Some more shuffling fabric, he keeps his eyes closed until more cake is pressed against his lips. He does, however, ignore the noticeable erection in Dimitri’s pants, Ferdinand somehow redder than before.

Dimitri shirtless, he holds the last half of the cheesecake.Ferdinand huffs. “You love cheesecake,” Dimitri whispers.

“Sometimes there are limits,” Dimitri’s hands not moving, Ferdinand scoffs. “You beast,” But that doesn’t stop Ferdinand smiling as he accepts the heaping bite of cake.

Wishing to get on it, patience not one of Dimitri’s stongsuits, he spears the cake with his fork, heaping portions offered each time Ferdinand almost finishes one bite. His chewing slows down, his swallowing slows down, the smack of his squirrel cheeks slow down, Ferdinand reaching dangerous levels of full.

Bits of cream on his lips, remnants from his dozes of prior bits still remain in his mouth, willing himself to eat more. Swallowing, the bits feel like lead slowly dropping down only to punch his gut on the way there. “Dimitri. I don’t think I can,” Groaning, he smears the frosting with his arm, the pale flesh on his arm jiggling. “Truly,”

“You can,” Dimitri rubs slow circles on Ferdinand’s gut. “Just a few more bites, I know you can do it,” Bringing the second to last bite, Dimitri forcefully shoves it in, Ferdinand struggling to chew it. His heavy breathing coming from his nose now, before he can swallow the last bits, Dimitri shoves the last heaping forkful in his mouth, Ferdinand painfully smacking his tired lips in an attempt to finish it all.

Wasting no time, Dimitri helps Ferdinad rest his back against his bed. Ferdinand’s labored chewing and groans egging him, he quickly disrobes, his slim yet built body glistening in anticipation. Gripping Ferdinand’s boxers, he tugs them off to reveal his own chubbed up dick, the thick shaft of it slowly engorging. Climbing onto the bed, Dimitri rests his knees right in front of Ferdinand’s dick.

Ferdinand finally finishes the cake, his mouth so dry and tired. “I…. ugghhh,” Clinging the bedsheets, his hands go to his bulging midsection as Dimitri lifts up his legs. His moobs squishing into his double chin, his overtaxed stomach rests heavily as the overfilled lump falls down.

Dimitri placing his arms under Ferdinand’s legs, he slowly aligns himself. His dick slick with precum, he slowly enters. Dimitri groans as the warmth of Ferdinand’s hole envelops his dick. Ferdinand right underneath him, his breath turns labored as Ferdinand squirms, rubbing his stomach.

“I’ll take care of that in a bit,” Leaning forward, Dimitri kisses Ferdinand, a trail of saliva sticking as they part. Ferdinand grimaces as his legs bend a bit more than they’re used to at this weight, nodding his head instead.

Unable to wait much longer, Dimitri thrusts into Ferdinand, Ferdinand’s hands now reaching for Dimitri’s back. Ferdinand’s noises sounding under him, the always chipper, bright man simply huffs under Dimitri, biting his lips as he tries to hold back his moans.

Wishing to get closer, Dimitri wraps his arms under Ferdinand, embracing him as he humps him. Digging his head into the crevice of Ferdinand’s neck, Dimitri huffs.

“D-dimitri,” Ferdinand gutturally moans, right into his ear. Cum sticking against his warm body, Dimitri nearly chuckles as Ferdinand cums so early. His body reprimanding him, his knees buckle as he feels himself so dangerously close, his throbbing dick begging for a release. Giving in, Dimitri crushes Ferdinand in his embrace, his soft supple body digging into his muscles.

"Tired,” Dimitri's arms shake. Huffing, he ignores his own seed slowly spilling out of Ferdinand's ass, as he pulls out. Ferdinand exhausted, his belly rises with each tired labored breath he takes. No important task required of him tomorrow, Dimitri reserves the task of cleaning themselves up tomorrow with a warm shared shower. Crawling beside Ferdinand, Ferdinand leans back into Dimitri as his body is cradled in Dimitri's built arms. Spooning Ferdinand, he breathes in his scent, his dreams knowing peace as he dreams of fattening Ferdinand further.

#my writing #risque #risqué #fat!ferdinand #fat!threehouses #male weight gain

[pangtasias-atelier]

How about a drabble of a Lion Boy Dimitri being fed by the rest of the BL boys? I feel like that would be adorable and chaotic to witness.

Group interaction is always one of my favorite things lol. Hope you enjoy!

____________

Pouting, Dimitri rubs his gut. Engorged on food, the soft doughy mass is instead rounder in shape, his gut firmer. Bright red stretch marks lining the lower perimeters of it, older pinker ones frame it as well. Huffing, Dimitri closes his eyes as he massages it. Letting out a small burp, his tail flicks behind him. The animalistic attribute not affected by his own overeating tendencies, the small width of it would be barely noticeable if not for the strangeness of it. Tail that of a lion’s, the thin furry appendage is thinner than Dimitri’s own sausage fingers. Ending in a small tuft of blonde fur, Dimitri sports small lion ears as well. Leaning into his chair, his ears flick as he lets out small sighs of contentment. His shoulder length hair framing his face, his plump cherubic cheeks only seem larger, Dimitri’s small huffs furthering the effect. His moobs press against his ill-fitting blue shirt, the edge of it only reaching a small portion past them. His doughy arms around them to reach his gut, he pushes them together, the adipose squishing together. His soft thighs wedged into his chair, they coalesce as he simply sits still, both pressed firmly together.

“Sorry for the wait!” Ashe barging into the room, Dimitri’s eyes shoot open, his ears sensitive. “Oh, sorry about that,” Ashe hunces slightly. “But I brought the fish you asked for,” Pushing the cart in, Ashe beams. 

Dimitri having already forgotten about his request after his dinner and desert, he opens his mouth. A growl from his stomach making noise instead, he blushes, squirming in his chair. The salty char of the fish wafting to his nose, Dimitr’s ears flick, his attention grabbed. “I suppose I’ll have one more,” 

One more the magic words to his own descent into overeating and gluttony, those had been the beginning, one more plate becoming two more plates before extra snacks were added throughout the day before even entire meals. His own greedy nature for food not entirely his own fault, Dimitri has four others to blame. Namely the other men from when they were in the Blue Lions. Dedue a given considering the two’s close bond, Dedue made sure of Dimitri’s own comfort. Fluffing a pillow, bringing him extra blankets, a belly rub, helping him unbutton straining clothing, Dedue was always there with a smile, always rubbing Dimitri’s tail or ears. Ashe was nearly the same. Dedue focusing on pampering through comfort, Ashe focused on pampering him through food. Dedue helping out and cooking for Dimitri, the volume and speed that Ashe cooked at was uncomparable. Always some new dish for Dimitri to try, Dimitri was always happy to oblige. More unexpected had been Sylvain, his enamorment with Dimitri coming out of the blue when he suddenly gave him a belly rub. Though he simply enjoyed cuddling and hugging all of Dimitri’s fat for his own enjoyment. Felix the largest shock to all, his adamant refusal to even caring had thankfully diminished as time went on, only spiking when strangers inquired about him. He merely took to bringing food to Dimitri, an aspect that Dimitri found important, always near hungry now.

Squirming in his creaking chair, Dimitri purrs as Ashe helps him sit up a bit more, Dimitri huffing from the exertion. Gut resting heavily in his lap, Dimitri places both hands on it as he opens his mouth. Ashe cutting a portion off, he goes to feed Dimitri, Dimtri closing his eyes. The tasty morsel right in front of him, Dimitri jumps up once more as another person comes in.

“I brought you your salmon, your highness,” Dedue announces himself,bringing only a plate to Ashe’s whole cart.

“He asked for trout,” Sylvain joining in, he only carries in a single plate.

“He kept whining for mackerel,” Felix barging in, he stares at the rest who in turn stare back at him. “I brought some to shut him up,” 

“I was here first,” Resuming, Ashe brings the bite of cod to Dimitri’s mouth. 

Blushing, Dimitri squirms in his chair as everyone’s gaze focuses on him. Tail flopping to the side, Dimitri opens his mouth. Mouth salivating, he chomps down on the fork, devouring the piece of cod with only a couple bites. 

A looming presence over him, Ashe looks up. Dedue stands behind him. 

“Let’s move him to his bed,” Reaching for Dimitri, Dedue smiles as Ashe follows along. 

“He needs to eat first!” Not waiting for a response, Sylvain brings a piece of salmon to Dimitri’s mouth, Dimitri greedily eating that as well. Felix stands to the side, staring as Dimitri huffs, rubbing his gut. 

“He should be comfortable, Sylvain,” Ashe pouts, struggling to extricate Dimitri from his chair, the armrests digging into his stomach. Dimitri’s love handles pour over the armrests. “Felix, help,”

Felix scoffs but does as he’s asked, standing by Ashe. Placing his foot on the legs of the chair, he helps pull Dimitri. Dimitri whimpering, he groans as his fat is pinched, the chair not letting go of him.Sylvain watches the entire time, devoting to remember the scene as all three struggle to pull Dimitri. 

Eventually dislodging him, Dedue catches Dimitri. Face red, Dimitri’s tail hangs between his legs, barely enough space for it now. With Dedue’s assistance, he waddles to his bed. A mountain of pillows already prepared, he sighs as he rests against them, snuggling and purring.

“Open wide,” Without waiting for any down time, Ashe already has Dimitri’s next bite prepared. 

“No way,” Sylvain blocks him. He pushes him out of the way with his hip. Dimitri’s face falls, the expected fish not coming.  “I get to feed him first,”

“No fair, I was here first,” 

“Doesn’t matter,”

“Yes it does, plus, he likes it better when I feed him,”

Dedue clears his throat. “We will take turns-”

“Who made you the leader?” Felix attacks, staring at Dedue.

“I am his highness’-”

“You’re all high and mighty now that-” Felix himself interrupted, all four turn towards Dimitri as he whines.

“So hungry…,” Rubbing his stomach, Dimitri opens his mouth, his tail swishing to the side of his own expanse.

“We will take turns, is that understood?” Dedue commands, suddenly serious with Dimitri’s complaint. 

“Yes!”

“Got it,”

“Whatever,”

Everyone else assenting, they form an orderly line. Dimitri cowers under their immediate shift in attitude, all four of them serious about feeding him. His tail begins to wag, mind excited from being pampered and waited on, Dimitri easily getting used to it.

#my writing #fat!dimitri #animal!dimitri #fat emblem #animal emblem #fat!threehouses #animal!three houses

[pangtasias-atelier]

Drabble (TW: Imprisonment) - Ashe gets captured by the Empire. To prevent him from escaping, Hubert orders that Ashe gets forcefed and fattened up until he's too big to escape. Ashe has no choice but to eat and eat, getting fatter every day until the seams on his clothes start splitting. He desperately hopes for the Professor or his friends to save him!

Ashe is an absolute cutey so this was fun to write.

Kinda went off at the beginning with Edelgard and Hubert lmao, but I hope the fat and stuffing goodness makes up for it!

Hope you enjoy!

______

“Hubert,” The waning moon aiding Edelgard in her approach, the sudden appearance of Her Majesty even throws Hubert off guard, Edelgard the only one to ever do so. Her and their prior professor, but neither Hubert or Edelgard have the option to concern themselves over such trivialities as mentor figures. “How many forces were lost?” The question is as simple as straightforward, Edelgard disregarding all notions as subtlety when in the presence of Hubert. The same could not be said for their ex-professor, a twinkle of regret shoved back down by Edelgard’s own fortitude.

“Ah, Lady Edelgard,” Hubert’s hair is more frazzled, a tinge off his usual part, strands of hair standing out of place where nothing but perfection was allowed for. “We fortunately suffered minimal losses. I’ll personally hand you the report when we have all the numbers figured out,” The truth of Fort Merceus being in the Resistance’s hands tremains unsaid, the Adrestian empire’s retreat easy to understand said fact.

“You usually have the report finished by this time, Hubert,”

“My apologies, Lady Edelgard. My own incompetence once again-”

“Hubert,” A hand on his shoulder silences him. “You saw the professor again, didn’t you,” Eyes cast to the ground, Hubert nearly has the gall to reassure. Remembering his place, and the place of Edelgard, he simply sighs instead.

“Yes, but that is unimportant. During the retreat, our forces were able to capture one of the enemy’s soldiers,”

“Ashe,” Edelgard sighs. “Make sure he is to not be tortured and have a room prepared for him,” Edelgard trudges off, mind burdened with heavy thoughts.

“Lady Edelgard! Just because he was a former member of our class...,” Byleth being responsible for said feat remains unsaid. “We should take whatever info we could possibly get from him,”

“Hubert, what I say is final. I will not have you bring harm to one who is already unarmed and captured,” Edelgard sighs, tossing a forlorn look at Hubert before heading off once more. “Simply ensure that he cannot escape,”

“Of course, Lady Edelgard,” Refraining from shaking his head, the act beneath him, Hubert walks off. First to the attendants in the west wing to order a room prepared at once. Then to the prison cells to get Ashe. Neither servant nor guard offer any rebuttal to Hubert’s strange commands, everyone knowing not to upset the lethal mage.

Blindfolded and arms bound as instructed, Ashe calmly walks wherever his captor takes him, knowing not to upset the ones who hold his life in their palms. The walk seemingly endless, the twists and turns of their winding trek all blur together. Suddenly stopping, the jolt of a push nearly tosses Ashe to the floor, awkwardly stumbling forward to not fall face flat. The door closed, Ashe blinks as his eyes adjust to the removal of his blindfold. A grandiose furnished room standing in front of him, Ashe has no time to think before hands work on his arm cuffs.

“Lady Edelgard has graciously allowed for your stay here,” Ashe instinctively rubs his wrists as Hubert frees them. “If you take advantage of Lady Edelgard’s kindness, then I will be there to make sure you never do so again,”

“But-I?” Ashe stutters, still shocked from the change of scenery.

“Call it a favor for an old classmate,” Hubert retorts, his face clearly showing his displeasure. Walking off, Hubert locks the door behind him. Keeping the key to himself, he commands the guards to not let anyone through without his own express permission.

Ashe left alone in his grand new room, the ostentatious furniture leaves him feeling out of place. Still a prisoner bright in his mind, he tentatively heads to the adjoined bathroom to finally freshen up, the grime of the day killing him.

Already no way to escape, Ashe thinks nothing of Hubert’s extreme methods. Already assuming for Hubert to have placed them, he is unaware of Hubert's true plot to ensure he never escapes.

The day arriving far sooner than pleasantly should be possible, Ashe’s weary bones crack and sigh as he stretches. Fine satin sheets under him, the nice nature of his prison cell still makes him feel on edge. Sitting up, the loose fabric for pajamas he had found in the drawers hangs off his skinny body. Lean muscle in his arms from drawing bows so often, the rest of his body has minimal musculature. Upon standing up, Ashe finds the door opening.

Hubert stepping in, he drags in a cart behind him as he closes the door. Unceremoniously, he pushes it towards Ashe, Hubert refusing to budge from his spot in front of the door. “Your breakfast,”

“All this?” Eyes agape, Ashe fervently removes the several cloches keeping his food warm. An omelette, sausages, bacon, pancakes, toast with jam, and hash browns, the meal is the definition of hearty with each having its own sizable portion.

“You would do well to not underestimate Lady Edelgard’s hospitality. And to appreciate it,” Heading off once more, Hubert locks the door.

Ashe once again alone, his stomach grumbles as the intoxicating aroma of the breakfast wafts its way into his nostrils. Having not eaten since his capture, a small nibble from each dish yields no possibility of poison. Starting with the omelette, Ashe drenches it and the hash browns in ketchup. Plenty of water to wash it down, his hungry state easily finishes half of each before moving on to the bacon and sausage. Grabbing a piece of each, the crispy texture of the bacon assaults his hungry tongue. Eating the sausage, the juicy sausage easily goes down his throat, Ashe rubbing his stomach. Glancing down, Ashe finds a small tum where once there was a flat stomach. Checking back to the plates, he sheepishly rubs his head at seeing a good chunk of the feast already gone. Reaching for a slice of toast, the fresh strawberry jam dances on his taste buds, the warm crunchy toast delicious just as the rest. The heaping stack of pancakes thankfully already cut into pieces for him, Ashe drowns them in the sweet syrup. Grabbing them with his fork, the soft chewy batter ends up devoured, Ashe finishing two whole pancakes before giving up.

Resting back on his bed, his stuffed stomach is slightly distended. Protruding a bit, the huge shirt he has offers the perfect amount of give to not bring him any more discomfort. Rubbing the small mass, Ashe lets out a yawn. Drowsily smacking his lips, Ashe contentedly falls back into the cushiony land of dreams.

Right to assume no poison had been put into his food, Ashe was simply lacking in knowledge of the magical arts. His food indeed tampered, Hubert had messed with it to ensure as much fattening as possible. Magic only able to go so far, the effect wasn’t anything obscene, but it did help expedite results.

Asleep, Ashe is unawate as a thin layer of pudge forms on his stomach, the once flat abdomen now sporting a sliver of flab. His thighs and arms ever so slightly thickening up, the effect takes hold of Ashe.

Happy to snooze away with a full stomach, the slamming of the door finally wakes him up. Groggily looking to and fro, he quickly sits up from Hubert  visiting him once more. A bit more give where there once was none, Ashe reaches a hand to his stomach. Before he can mull on his thoughts Hubert speaks up,

“Your lunch is here,” The cart containing only a singular dish, the chicken salad sounds like a nice respite for Ashe despite his still engorged stomach. Hubert spots the still full breakfast cart. “Hmm, I see someone was unappreciative of their breakfast,” The door locked behind him, Hubert grabs the plate of hash browns. “Well, I’m sure a guest of Lady Edelgard would be a fool to not enjoy all of her gifts, wouldn’t you agree, Ashe?” Grabbing some with the fork, Huberts stands at the ready.

“Wh-?’ Unable to answer the rhetorical question, Ashe finds a fork of hash browns crammed into his mouth.

“We can’t be leaving any scraps left,” Ashe slightly struggling, Hubert puts the plat back down. Producing rope, he ties Ashe’s arms to the bedpost. Grabbing the plate once more, he sits beside Ashe, vigilant on his thrashing feet. The hash browns slowly going down Ashe’s throat, Hubert washes it down for him by pouring the cup of water down his gullet. Ashe breathing through his nose now, his stomach gurgles as more food still finds its way down his throat. The omelette going next, soon it's the sausage, then the bacon, next the toast, before finally, Hubert is cramming the pancakes down Ashe’s throat.

His cheek positively spherical from so much food crammed in his maw at once, dribbles of the syrup trickles down his chin. Huffing, Ashe groans as the last remnants of breakfast end up in his stomach along with the rest. Arms untied, all he can think of is rubbing his distended gut, his shirt lifting up from it.

“From now on, make sure that you finish all your meals before the next one,” Already leaving, Hubert is at the doorway. “Or we’ll have another repeat of this,”

Rubbing his gut, Ashe simply nods in bed, his jaw too tired to form any words. Left alone, time trickles slowly by, his stuffed gut taking up all his thoughts.

Glancing at the plate of salad, Ashe’s stomach yells at him for even looking at the food. Hubert’s words relaying themself to Ashe, he groans as he stands up. Heavy, tired feet hitting the floor, one hand rests on his paunch as he grabs the plate. Weighing his options, he takes a bit. About to spit it out, Ashe clenches a hand over his mouth, mentally willing himself to chew. Huffing, he drenches the salad with ranch, hoping the extra flavor will help him along. Pinching his nose, Ashe nibbles at the salad. Eyes clenched, each bite is a promise Ashe makes to his stomach to be the last one. A clear lie, but the mental effort needed to finish is taxing.

Fork scraping porcelain, Ashe drops his fork. He rests back down on his mattress. Rubbing his gut, the pounding sensation of being ridiculously overstuffed assaults him.

Resting, time seems to go slowly enough until the door opens up. Hubert bringing in another cart, Ashe nearly feels like losing the day’s meals from thinking about more food. “Hmm, you’re learning. I’ll be back in the morning,” Is all Hubert comments as he takes the prior cart and its plate back.

Ashe figures on taking a nap before eating his dinner, enough time thankfully offered to him.

By the time Ashe eats his dinner and crashes back into bed, the morning helps offer a new sense of clarity. Still stuffed, the noticeable fat on his body makes it clear to the tampering of his food. Clothes still thankfully loose, Ashe offers a groan as it becomes apparent that yesterday was not a one time thing, a heavy breakfast brought to him by Hubert.

Stuffing himself round the clock, Hubert’s chilling attitude and thinly veiled threats gets to Ashe every time. The effects of his food clearly grow more visible by the day on Ashe’s short body. Always skinny, the past feels so long ago as more and more flab stockpiles itself onto his frame.

A flat stomach turns into a distended little gut. Chunky thighs and arms to go along with it, Ashe had assumed it to be the end of his growth. But the meals simply kept up and so did Ashe’s ballooning figure. A potbelly a permanent fixture to his abdomen, even that was a stepping stone for Ashe’s obese body. Word of the Resistance absolutely unknown to him, Ashe has no idea of the current state of the war, his growing waistline concerning him.

Currently sitting in bed, Ashe had easily devoured the monumental feast for breakfast. His gut flowing onto his colossal thighs, the rolls of lard rise and fall with each wheeze he gives. Resting a hand on his gut, the other rubs it, unable to soothe the entire expanse of it. His large breasts rest on top of his stomach, his man boobs splaying to the side as they sag. Wide, doughy bags for arms, the wings for fat sag as well. His wide, fat ass oozing behind him, Ashe’s pear shape had become quickly apparent. Thighs nearly the width of the doorway, escaping was quickly making itself an invalid option. His massive thighs unable to spread much at all, the layers and rolls of flab ooze and meld together.

His lended clothes were torn long ago; the only fabric to fit Ashe now is a brand new pair of light blue boxers. Upon receiving the expansive fabric, the idea of needing so much was ridiculous, yet now he finds them to be on the tighter end of the spectrum, his ass filling out the back and falling out the bottom and the top.

The door opening without announcement, Ashe groans, his stomach still digesting the morning’s meal. Hibert brings another cart of food. He leaves it beside Ashe and leaves with a simple scoff at Ashe’s corpulent state.

A meaty hand on the bed, Ashe grunts as he pushes himself up. Arms burning, straining from doing so, he flops back down on his bed. Entire body jiggling, Ashe's cheeks follow suit as he wheezes. One half of his mind is concerned about his meal, the other half is concerned with his friends finding him before he grows too fat to move, Ashe's titanic size not far from reaching that reality.

#my writing #fat!ashe #fat!threehouses #male weight gain

[pangtasias-atelier]

Since you enjoyed the fat!Hubert content I was wondering if you’d be willing to tackle a slime weight gain dabble for Hubert? Maybe he goes out to obtain a specimen and it doesn’t end well for him leading to weight gain shenanigans?

Of course!!! Not the most well versed in slime weight gain but I hope it still came out to your liking!

Thanks again for the Hubert & Ferdinand drawing;;;;

Kinda added Hubert x Ferdinand in the beginning cause I'm a dumb bitch for them.

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"You'll be careful out there, right?" Ferdinand bidding Hubert goodbye, he refuses to let go of his hand, Ferdinand digging his heels into the ground.

"Of course. Now, I have a mission to accomplish," Sighing, Hubert's attempts at extracting himself from Ferdinand only makes him dig his heels further into the ground.

"Perhaps I'll aid you. Such a perilous mission-,"

"Ferdinand," Hubert commands, Ferdinand silencing from his tone. "I will be safe. I'm merely returning to one of the abandoned sites where Those Who Slither In The Dark once lived. They've all been eradicated, we've made sure of such a thing,"

"You're right," Shoulders slumping, Ferdinand lets go.

Hubert smiling, Ferdinand's own disappointment adorable to him, Hubert coughs to rid himself off his grin. "This is a mission directly from Lady Edelgard, as such it is imperative we follow her orders,"

"Forgive me for ruining a tender moment," Both Hubert and Ferdinand immediately fix their gaze to Edelgard, both standing up straight. "But the scouts have all returned fine. Hubert's prowess in magic makes him the best candidate to inspect the area. And I still require your assistance in other matters, Ferdinand," Praise unneeded for either of them, it still raises their morale, both hiding their cheer.

"Understood," Ferdinand nods his head. Turning to Hubert, he gives him a peck on the cheek. Both still blush, Edelgard witness to the act.

"With your leave, Empress," Bowing, Hubert mounts his horse, quickly dashing off into the night, his face red.

"Come Ferdinand, we still have our budget for the town projects to consider,"

"At once, Empress," Rushing ahead of Edelgard, his own face red, Ferdinand heads back to the throne room.

"Such fools," Never once expecting her two advisors move past a stage of animosity towards one another, their current relationship had surprised yet warmed Edelgard's heart, their tender affection leaving a faint smile on her face before she wipes it off, heading back.

Hubert rushing off, the cover of night offers him the best opportunity to rush to his destination. Despite wearing his normal outfit as advisor, with no one to spot him, there's no one to recognize him. Not that people would, Hubert's general disposition scaring off anyone who would even think of doing such a thing.

His destination dangerously close, Edelgard had been furious upon the realization that the Agarthans live so dangerously close to Enbarr. Reaching it before the sun even had the chance to come up, Hubert securely ties his horse, giving her an apple.

The entrance rehidden upon the leave of Edelgard's scouts, Hubert's intel easily points him to its location, Hubert removing the spell and entering inside.

No sunlight allowed to enter, the magical flames placed interspedly offer decent vision, the lights a different form compared to the magic of Adrestia.

Eyes scanning around the area, each new detail seems to offer a different take on magic, Hubert grinning at the possibilities. So enraptured in his own ideas, he doesn't catch the faint sound of slithering ooze in the distance.

Sensing a large magical energy different from that of the Agarthans, the slime trap meant to capture invaders and incapacitate them for interrogating had activated, the Agarthans fearful of other stealing their technology.

Starting from one side, Hubert keeps himself organized. His scribbles to replicate the spells keep him busy, his tests revealing strange new magic. The sound of strange running water catches his attention, Hubert quickly standing up.

A strange amorphous green blob in his vision, Hubert keeps his arm raised, magic ready. The slime slowly moving around, as if not even aiming for him, makes Hubert lower his guard. Taking a step forward, the slime doesn't react, instead continues its random movement. Intrigued by the object, a valuable asset to study, Hubert raises his hand to cast magic.

Sensing the magic once more, the slime surges forward, tackling Hubert down to the ground. Opening his mouth to cast, he gurgles as the slime enters his mouth. Grabbing it, Hubert's thrashing increases as his hands merely sink into the slime, unable to grab any sort of leverage on it.

A strangling sensation on his stomach, Hubert is unable to lift his head up, the slime's force keeping his head on the ground. His belt digging into his abdomen, Hubert lifts his hands to make sure. The effort more taxing than it should be, his tight gloves restrict his larger digits. His doughy arms press against his sleeves, the fabric ruffles and warps around them. His collar constricting his neck, Hubert digs into it, even tearing it out of desperation. His newfound double chin surging out, Hubert's stomach now complains again, his belt strangling it. His midsection sunk in from the belt, his upper portion of flab half covers it, his lower portion sagging down. Unable to reach and undo it, Hubert withstands the pain, shutting his eyes tight. His chest incredibly heavy, most of the weight comes from the remaining portion of slime, Hubert finding no solace in realizing it's not from his new breasts as they raise into the air. His jaw sore from being open for so long, it strains further as the slime continues entering him.

His stomach surges out as his belt suddenly gives, Hubert's wheezing coming out as gurgles. His pants button feel like they're drilling a hole. Unable to see his lower half, Hubert instead can feel it against the hard floor, his width slowly expanding and taking up more space. The fabric of his pants intentionally wide, only the button causes an issue for Hubert. Unlike the rest of his outfit however, his sleeves and shirt begin to tear, bits of his pale flesh poking out. A single tear spawning, the billowing flab tears them wider, even causing more to occur.

The slime barely left, Hubert finally gasps for air as it all goes down, his ragged gasps leading to a coughing fit. His fat jiggles from his coughing, Hubert groaning. No longer restrained, Hubert slowly lifts himself up, his arms and legs shaking.

So lethargic, Hubert wheezes, the heavy sensation of the slime coursing throughout his body. Burping, he places a fist over his mouth, blushing. Reaching for his pants, Hubert immediately unbuttons them, sighing as his fat flows out.

Able to finally look at himself, his chin squishes against his neck as he does so; Hubert grimaces. "This is," Grabbing himself, Hubert feels the heft of his body. "an unfortunate development," Unclasping his cape, Hubert drapes it over himself. Taking a step, his thighs nearly topple him, Hubert placing a hand on the wall. Purposefully swinging his leg around, Hubert finds that they still chafe, his waddling pathetic. His ass shaking behind him, he merely shakes his head.

Needing to return to Enbarr and report his findings, the outburst and shock from the others damper his will to return. Hubert's jiggling body only worsens his spirits.

#my writing #fat!threehouses #fat!hubert #fat fiction #male weight gain

[pangtasias-atelier]

Aaaa could I get 10 sentences about a nearly immobile vampire Hubert? Ferdibert encouraged !! Thank you !!

Ahhhhh this is a great idea and I love it. This was harder since I love them both and love having them talk and banter lol

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"Damnit, Fer-ferdinand," Hubert wheezing, the person he's currently cursing at is at his side, Ferdinand struggling under Hubert's doughy bags for arms.

"A couple more steps. Just hang in there," Ferdinand fits in his own wheezing to catch a break; groaning, his small slow steps feel exaggerated, yet Hubert's pathetic wobbles can barely even keep up.

The two reaching their shared mattress, the frame removes long ago with Hubert's growing crushing size, Ferdinand wastes no time in getting Hubert off of him. Glancing down at Hubert's vast form, he blushes at his wide immensity, his massive king sized bed nearly dwarfed by Hubert and Hubert alone.

"This is your fault," Hubert's clothes scraps on his body, the remnants left only accentuate his size, massive chunks of flabs squeezed and pooling out on his soft pale skin; Hubert a vampire, the need to drink a human's blood was an exaggeration, vampires only needing to do so once in a blue moon, unfortunately, Ferdinand's eager enjoyment of Hubert drinking his blood only led to Hubert gorging on the sweet delicacy, his figure taking a massive toll.

"You never said no," Ferdinand teases, smiling down at Hubert; pulling his hair back, Ferdinand exposes his neck. "But you do look awfully hungry,"

Hubert's stomach rumbling, his gigantic gut wobbles as if a water bed. "I already drank blood two days ago,"

"But you sound so hungry," Lying down, Ferdinand sinks into the massive ocean of blubber that is Hubert's stomach.

"Ferdinand…," Hubert eyeing his neck, he smack his lips before shaking his head; glancing away, he huffs as his eyes drift back, Ferdinand's neck so close and tempting.

Ferdinand lets out a moan as Hubert's fangs sink into his flesh, his greedy lips sucking; Ferdinand's crest known for its regenerative abilities, his body's rapid ability to produce more blood was astounding, Hubert's constant feeding off of him unfelt. "Oooh, go ahead and drink as much as you want,"

#my writing #5 sentence prompts #fat emblem #fat!hubert #fat!threehouses

[pangtasias-atelier]

Could I request a 10 sentence of Dedue baking sweets for his very overweight boyfriend Ashe? Thanks.

This was fun!! Ashe works perfectly for wg material and he's also great for like a lot of pairings ahsjsb

____________

The couch groaning under such an unexpected intense weight as its current occupant shifts and squirms to reach for more decadent chocolate fudge brownies, Dedue nearly misses the ding of the oven, his blush and grin wiping straight off of his face. The sweet warm scent of strawberry cupcakes wafting to his nostrils, Dedue pulls out the two dozen cupcakes, allowing them to cool for a moment before frosting half of them with vanilla and frosting the other half with cream cheese. Placing those beside the tray chock-full of an array of cookies: sugar, chocolate chip, and snickerdoodle amongst others, Dedue hears the particular straining of Ashe as he desperately goes to lift himself up, a whine in his voice. Grabbing said tray, Dedue glides to Ashe, leaning down and gingerly pressing a hand against Ashe's meaty stomach; Ashe's mound sinks under the slight pressure.

Looking up, Ashe's ovular face jiggles, his eyes lidded and cheeks smothered with chocolate.

"I brought you more," Dedue already a foot taller than his boyfriend, the sinking couch under a seated Ashe only exaggerates their difference, Ashe an ant the width of a whale under Dedue as Dedue wipes the globs of chocolate off his face.

"Hmmhmm," Ashe blushes "Thank you," A kiss left on his forehead and a tray of cookies on his stomach, Ashe reaches for them, devouring a single cookie in a couple bites before reaching for another and another.

Dedue watches, as transfixed staring at the way Ashe greedily chomps on whatever he slowly reaches under his crushing weight as Ashe is transfixed on stuffing his face. The second oven dinging once more, Dedue heads back and fishes out the red velvet cake; placing that on the counter to cool as well, Dedue stares once more at Ashe. Both opening up a bakery, Ashe had immediately become enamored with whatever they made, so enamored he was, Ashe's petite figure blew up to what it currently is, Dedue happy to allow it, Ashe's corpulent form adorable; Dedue humming away as he decorates the cake, an entire cake just for Ashe, Dedue knowing he'll eat it all.

#my writing #fat!ashe #fat!threehouses #fat emblem #5 sentence prompts

[pangtasias-atelier]

How about a chunky neko Dimitri being hand fed and pampered by Dedue? Can it be sickeningly sweet too?

Really like this one! I feel I just need to a break in-between like bursts lol. That an to put in more effort. Also, I suck at feeding stuff so sorry if it's short on that end.

Glad to finally feel like my writing is at the very least slightly improving instead of feeling like a downward spiral these past months.

__________

"C'mon," Gritting his teeth, Dimitri's fingers clench and tighten their grip on his pants. The yellow ears on top of his mop of hair twitch, his tail frantically swishing back and forth. Letting out a deep breath, Dimitri stands on his tiptoes, yanking his pants up once more. The pants moving slightly up, they barely cover up a quarter of Dimitri's ass. Glancing behind himself, Dimitri sighs. Having yet another go, Dimitri hastily tugs at his pants as he bounces up and down, his entire mass jiggling.

Letting go, he huffs, placing a hand on the curve of his hefty belly. Half of his hand making contact with the soft fabric of his shirt and the other half touching his skin, Dimitri glances down. Frowning at the sight, his shirt heavily rides up and squeezes his belly fat, the fat noticeably indented. His shirt also fails to cover him from behind, the extra pudge of back rolls and his love handle both exposed as well. His button straining and taut against him, he retracts his hands after he almost absentmindedly undid it.

Everything so tight, even the extra slight wobble to his chin and filled out cheeks feel so noticeable, Dimitri's ears droop, his tail sagging.

Placing both hands on his stomach, Dimitri shakes it, his entire body wobbling as a result. Pushing back a blush that he has no idea how to explain, Dimitri sighs. "I've let myself go since becoming king," Dimitri mutters to himself. Double checking himself, his exposed boxers makes him whimper. "What would Dedue think," Dimitri wonders.

A cough sounding from the door, Dimitri's neck nearly snaps with the speed he lifts it, eyes wide.

"Ah, Dedue…" Positively red, Dimitri's clasps his hands together, twisting them at being caught in his moment by his husband.

Dedue carrying a covered tray, the scent of fresh fish wafting to his nose doesn't go unknown, Dimitri's ears perking up as a small trail of drool escapes. Closing the door, Dedue quickly closes the gap, making sure to leave the tray on the table, and grabs Dimitri's hands, his concerned expression peering down at Dimitri as he towers over him.

"Are you unwell?" Hands caressing Dimitri's, Dedue brings them to his chest.

"Dedue…" Dimitri averts his gaze, staring at the floor instead. "Answer me truthfully. Do you," Dimitri pauses, blushing.

"Do I what, Dimitri?" Dedue glances down at Dimitri's poor state of wardrobe, nothing fitting him properly. "Surely Dimitri can't just now have noticed his hefty size," Dedue thinks.

"Do you believe I am getting fat?" Sighing, Dimitri steels himself, bringing his face back up to Dedue. A small blush and smile on his face makes Dimitri falter. Dedue's hand on his exposed stomach makes him blush.

"You look much better this way," Dedue places both hands on Dimitri's ass and lifts him up. Dimitri clings to him, his tail standing straight up. "But only if you appreciate this,"

"I…," The savory grilled fish assaults his nose once more, Dimitri's stomach grumbling. "Truthfully, I do,"

Dedue smiles down at Dimitri, their foreheads pressed against each other. "Then I am glad," Carrying Dimitri, the way his stomach presses against him and how Dimitri's padded thighs wrap around him are pleasant. Sitting down, Dedue gives him a kiss before turning Dimitri around. Keeping him on his lap, Dedue reaches for the tray, unveiling the salmon. He smiles as Dimitri holds his breath, his ears even perking up.

"I cooked your favorite," Unbuttoning Dimitri's pants, Dedue feels the rush of flab that seeps out from the release. Placing a hand on Dimitri's stomach, Dedue uses his free hand to grab bits of the salmon, Dedue having already cut it. "Open wide,"

"Mmhmm," Opening his mouth, Dimitri greedily chomps down on it the instant the fork enters his mouth. His first bite awakening his appetite, he lets out a huff, his taste buds soaring. He opens his mouth immediately afterwards, waiting patiently.

Dedue keeping his pace, he goes slow as to not accidentally harm Dimitri from rushing. Dimitri's small whimpers give him an even bigger incentive, Dedue digging his chin into the nook of Dimitri's shoulder to get closer.

The salmon ending up devoured, Dimitri lets out a small burp, covering his mouth.

Dedue leans in closer as Dimitri whispers under his breath. "May you rep-"

"May I have more?" Head down, Dimitri badly wants to snatch his tail, the appendage lackadaisically moving behind him.

"Anything for you," Standing up, Dedue seats Dimitri back down.

Dedue heading out, Dimitri bites his lips. "As much fish as possible?" He shouts, though it sounds out more as a question with his embarrassment, Dimitri recoiling.

Dedue looks back, smiling at Dimitri. "Of course," He goes to the kitchen to do just that, making sure to keep his husband well-fed.

#male wg #male weight gain #my writing #fat!dimitri #fat!threehouses

[pangtasias-atelier]

So I’ve started head canonning that Ashe opens a restaurant after the war, kinda like honoring his parents and his own love of cooking. I love the Sylvashe HCs you’ve got going on. What kinda HCs would you have about Sylvain realizing Ashe is starting to gain from his job, and realizing he needs his boyfriend/husband to get big, and get big now?

I remember seeing Ashe's ending and being sad he opened an inn, but at least he serves food there~

Already having to taste test a lot of his creations, Ashe has a little coating of pudge by the time the war ends

Ashe more bold now, he's the one who proposed, Sylvain completely caught off guard but still saying yes

Ashe wanting to open his own restaurant, he's still adamant about his dream

Sylvain nods in agreement, happy to help his husband

Ashe opens it up right in the city, the city the closest possible one to House Gautier

It all goes splendidly, Ashe's over planning and practicing blooming well

Refusing to accept charity from Sylvain, Ashe starts off small

Just him and another helper or two

But the success of his cooking helps his business boom, Ashe having to expand the area and renovate

Sylvain happy for Ashe, he's way more happy as he realizes Ashe is beginning to gain a bit more weight

The way his tummy is compressed under his shirt and juts out from his pants muffin topping him

Or how Ashe's thighs look even thicker, his trouser stuffed full of them

And his ass, the once perky butt beginning to sag and grow

Plus Ashe's moobs, the bits of flab expanding

The whole sight an experience, Sylvain nearly goes crazy

Having to think about it long and hard despite knowing, Sylvain wants to see Ashe even fatter

So he starts making it a point to ask for cooking tips, Sylvain not really knowing anything about it

Getting lessons, Sylvain keeps imagining just stuffing Ashe, mind always in the clouds when he should be learning

Nowhere near the level of Ashe, Sylvain's level is at the very least respectable now

All the while, Sylvain keeps an eye on Ashe, storing the way his seems plumper and fuller to memory

Finally confident, Sylvain sometimes cooks just for Ashe

Ashe gives critiques and what can improve, but he's always finishing what's on his plate

Sylvain nods but only focuses on Ashe eating, his rounded cheeks stuffed

Sylvain still offers to taste test Ashe's new dishes, Sylvain getting a bit of a tummy, but he always pons it off to Ashe

Telling him he'll know better and whatnot

The way that Ashe continues to get bigger drives Sylvain insane, Sylvain only wanting to see more

#headcanons #my writing #fat!ashe #fat emblem #fat!threehouses

[pangtasias-atelier]

remember your headcanon about sylvain becoming fuckbuddies w caspar? can i pls request a headcanon or drabble (whichever you pref) about what happens when they get busted by dimitri?

All smut will be tagged #risque

Took me awhile to find the headcanon sksnskns but I feel like I like/hate this. Like, the ending portion I enjoy but the middle smut portion I'm meh about. I love how it's Sylvain centric but hate how little Caspar is in it, but like Sylvain would be way more hesitant in my mind.

But anyways, hope you enjoy it!!

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"Of all the," Counting to ten, Dimitri sighs. Pressing his hand to his forehead, strands of hair fall past his fingers.

"Ah, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" Fidgeting, Ashe plays with his pudgy fingers, face refusing to meet Dimitri's.

"It's okay, Ashe. I had a suspicion myself," Leaning down, Dimitri kisses Ashe, patting his hair. "I will speak to him tomorrow,"

The two of them preparing for bed for the long day tomorrow, two of their guests are only beginning their night.

Sylvain on a visit, he is now never seen without his new favorite retainer. Caspar.

The two becoming "close" during the war, Sylvain's obsession with Caspar had only grown as time went on. So desperately wanting and enjoying Caspar's added heft, Sylvain could only think about making him fatter. Their agreement mutual, Sylvain found a better method of going about it once the war came to a close.

House Bergliez inherited by Caspar's elder brother, his own stake in the territory was paltry. Though Caspar had no real care in such a case. As such, Sylvain had offered a permanent position in House Gautier as his personal retainer. The true nature of the position only disclosed between the two of them, Caspar's stomach and dick had promptly agreed to such a job.

Caspar a perfect employee, Sylvain's own lustful needs were satisfied. Whether it was fucking Caspar, stuffing him, or both. Caspar's already fat figure by the end of the war only blimped out with nothing to do besides eat, sleep, and fuck.

Sylvain and Caspar having retired to Sylvain's room earlier, Sylvain bites his lip as he stares at Caspar's form. Having to help Caspar move by carrying one flabby wing of an arm over his shoulder, it seemed more apt to call Sylvain the personal retainer, Sylvain always waiting on Caspar and fetching him whatever he wished. Their mutual agreement seemed to exceed beyond such a thing, their time nearly spent together at all times and even performing mundane tasks.

The bed dipping into a 'V', Caspar's immense form takes up most of said bed. Huffing from exhaustion, his butler uniform clings to every roll and divot in attempts to avoid tearing. Caspar a short 5'7, his gut is nearly as wide as he is tall, the massive portly pile of lard nearly exhausting his uniform. Black overcoat dangerously stretched, the fabric appears gray at parts, the nipped midsection impossible with Caspar's gut spreading far and wide. A corset out of the question, that still didn't stop from Sylvain trying at first. But that attempt only led to both realizing it was impossible and Sylvain pouncing Caspar for the third time that day. Caspar's button up strained, the hassle from moving disheveled it, his gut poking through from under, his pale gut shimmering with light sweat. The buttons struggle to clasp all the way around his gut, diamonds forming in-between them, allowing more of Caspar's body to seep through. Caspar's pants thankfully fit all around him, Caspar more apple shaped, but the fabric is still taut, a mindless bend or two able to cause a dangerous split in the fabric. Coattails absorbed under all of Caspar's flab, the fabric only accentuates his ass whenever he stands, the two bits of fabric resting on top of his two mounds of cheeks. Caspar's face still contains remnants of dinner, specks of sauce on his puffed out cheeks, Caspar groaning and wheezing.

Sylvain unable to wait anymore, he disrobes himself promptly, rushing and almost stumbling as he does so. Removing all articles besides his boxers, Sylvain's dick pushes the fabric, the light friction making him twitch as he shuffles to Caspar.

Pressing himself up to Caspar, Sylvain wraps his arms around him as much as he can, pressing and sinking into his rising gut.

"You're so fat now," Sylvain huffs, sinking his face into Caspar's gut. He lifts up Caspar's gut, grunting as he does, and lets go, Caspar's stomach sloshing and shaking. Hands roaming about, Sylvain can't make a choice, rubbing Caspar's stomach, caressing his thighs, groping his breasts, pinching his love handles. Sylvain stares at Caspar as if staring at a meal after having not eaten for a couple days. Unable to wait any longer, Sylvain reaches under Caspar's gut. Struggling, he soon finds his prize, the waistband. Tugging down, Sylvain grins as Caspar's breathing picks up. A pair of boxers for Caspar picked out by Sylvain, he smiles as he sees them. Pink boxers with a pig's tail at the back. Getting to the side of Caspar, Sylvain gives a push, Caspar groaning.

"You're too wide to flip over now," Sylvain draws in a sharp breath. "So you have to get your fat ass up first," Slapping Caspar's gut, he helps push Caspar to be sideways. Grabbing his pudgy hands, the massive digits sausage like, Sylvain sinks into Caspar's gut from reaching so far. Pulling, both struggle, Sylvain from lifting such a blubbery man and Caspar from carrying so much blubber.

Caspar getting to his feet, he wheezes, Sylvain deftly unbuttoning and tossing his massive clothes to the side.

"So wide," Sylvain coos, standing behind Caspar, his dick frotting Caspar's entrance. Humping him, Sylvain bites down on Caspar neck, muffling at the way his fat shakes. He guides him to the bed stomach first. Wishing to shove him on the bed, but knowing that it'd break, he really doesn't wanna have to offer and explanation to the prudish Dimitri, Sylvain gently relaxes Caspar down, Caspar and the bed groaning.

Wasting no time, Sylvain tears off Caspar's boxers, removing his own at the same time. Caspar's stomach pushing him up so high, Caspar's ass is nearly perfect height, Sylvain getting onto his knees. Caspar too fat for Sylvain to position his knees around him, he moves his stomach folds, his knees like a dam. So close, Sylvain swiftly enters, his precummed dick and Caspar's cavernous hole allowing for easy access.

Huffing, Sylvain pounds into him. Eyes roaming Caspar's body, he loses it as Caspar's entire roly-poly body jostles and quivers with each hump he gives. Wanting to stare, his oncoming release lids his eyes, Sylvain panting as he easily cums. Falling over, he clings to Caspar's ass as he moans. "L-" Realizing his mistake, Sylvain fakes a cough, blushing.

Chest rising, Sylvain's exhausted form barely registers having to move Caspar again for him to sleep on his back. Spent, he whimpers as his dick begins to garden from the realization, so much more fun to be had.

By the time that lunch is done, a simple affair between Dimitri and Sylvain, Sylvain goes to rush off, never trusting Dimitri's one on one time.

"Ah, Sylvain, why don't we have a stroll. For old times sake," Already starting, Dimitri doesn't look back, Sylvain's trudging footsteps resounding behind him on the stone floor.

The two walking in silence, Sylvain keeps this gaze on the scenery, the walls and portraits more interesting. The two side by side, Dimitri leads the way, the two eventually reaching a balcony overlooking the gardens.

Sylvain's face sags, offering a glance at Dimitri. Hearing voices, Sylvain turns back to the garden. Looking around, he spots Ashe and Caspar having tea, the two talking and laughing. Ashe's paunch not as noticeable from such a distance, his bit of heft is still visible, Ashe the very before to Caspar's after.

"Why don't you marry Caspar?" Dimitri tosses out, resting his hands on the balustrade.

"Ugh, so this is what this is about?"

"You two seem to enjoy each other's company. I've heard many stories but never believed it till I saw for myself,"

"We're just," Sylvain pauses, mind struggling to figure out a word. True, his private engagements with Caspar are a wonder, but having tea together, a simple picnic, or even dealing with troublesome meetings together, having Caspar by his side…

"Forgive my meddling, but he's confided in Ashe that he very much enjoys spending time with you,"

Sylvain groans, leaning his arms and chin on the balustrade. The cool air of Faerghus is a light breeze. "I already thought about it," Sylvain mumbles, remembering the ring he had made just to hide it.

Dimitri turns to face Sylvain, eyes wide. Coughing, he smiles for him. "Then propose, if you're worried about status, you know Caspar has no concern for such a thing,"

"True,"

"When I proposed to Ashe, I-"

"I'll pass on hearing this story for the sixth time,"

"I don't- but I-," Dimitri groans, blushing into his hands.

"I hate when you meddle," Sylvain lightly punches Dimitri's arm. "But thanks," Sylvain heading off, Dimitri watches with a smile as Sylvain holds his head up high.

Staying up there and fondly watching Ashe, Dimitri spots Sylvain joining them. Going to join them himself, he murmurs. "I'm not a meddler,"

#my writing #fat!caspar #fat emblem #fat!threehouses #risque #risqué

[pangtasias-atelier]

Unable To Say No

Based off of @beepboop260 drawing of Seteth and also some extras from our conversations. You're right, it is cyclical. (Which was what I was gonna say until you took the word straight from my mouth lol)

I was already working on another Seteth idea but I just had to write this after that wonderful work. But now there's more fat Seteth to go around! And there'll be more in the future~ (Seteth if you're out there,)

___________

"Say, ahhhh," Byleth taunts, face ever so impassive as he brings yet another forkful to Seteth's lips. On cue, Seteth opens his mouth, a rush of air leaving him as he huffs. The forkful of pasta inside his mouth, he obediently bites down on it, slowly chewing it before swallowing. The food traveling down his throat, Seteth huffs, the pasta feeling like a ticking bomb as it makes its way to join the rest of its comrades residing inside Seteth's stomach. Leaning against the tower of pillows to support him, he closes his eyes. Stomach kicking and screaming, unwilling to go down alone, Seteth's eyes shoot open as a hand rests on his gut. 

Byleth smiles down at the sitting Seteth. "You're doing so well," He coos, hands traveling through Seteth's hair, his breath on Seteth's neck as he leans on the bed. Left hand finding its way to one of Seteth's ears, he plays with the pointy appendage. Loathe to admit it at first, Seteth's ears very sensitive, the area a common place of teasing from Byleth. Rubbing it, Byleth smiles at the expected result. 

Seteth squirming under Byleth's touch, his breathing quickens before he lets out a low moan, face red. Byleth's forehead pressing against Seteth's, he kisses him before retreating back. Breath ragged, Seteth wraps his lips around the next forkful, his forked tongue slipping out after swallowing. Byleth grabs their cheek, cupping it before giving it a kiss.

His hand travels to Seteth's moobs, giving it a toss as if it were a beanbag. His hand slithers back down to his stomach. He rubs it tentatively. He gives it another rub. Seteth relaxes as the motion soothes him.

And then Byleth pushes down on it. "Ahhh, ah!" Seteth huffs, his aching stomach churning. A burp sneaks past him.

"Just helping you make some extra room; I'll be right back," Byleth smiles with a glint in his eyes.

Seteth watches as Byleth scampers. At the door, Byleth turns around, winking as he exits.

Huffing, the sensation of tears pricks his eyes. His stomach now having recruited its co-workers, his entire body yells at him, sending him pain to quit. Desperate for no more food. 

Looking down, he finds himself agreeing with his body. His sleeping shirt was no longer adequate of covering all of his fleshy form, and that was a week ago. As pajamas, it was decent in providing some coverage. It covered his meaty breasts, an area that receives much love from Byleth, and covered some of his stomach. His sleeping shirt had always been snug. His ample chest always caused his shirt to lift up a bit, the fabric snug on his upper body. But that was when he once had pecs, now he has breasts. Now, it was nothing more than a glorified bra despite offering no support, his breasts splaying out on both sides. Byleth had called them pillows blessed by the goddess herself once; Seteth nearly choked on his water that day. His stomach exposed for him and Byleth, the pile of it was neatly cascading down between his thighs. He was used to noises from it throughout the day. But now, it feels as if an animal lives inside, gurgles and growls seemingly ringing directly in his ears. 

His shorts feel invisible, only pieces of it in his vision with his fat in the way. But he very much could feel them and they way they dig in and pinch him. He recalls once wearing pants to bed when the two first wed, back when he was skinny. As the plates stuck to his frame, pants were too cumbersome, shorts the solution. And yet, now shorts feel just as cumbersome as pants once did. Every size up he went, Byleth made sure to get shorter and shorter shorts. And now, Byleth would tease him, asking him whether he was wearing shorts or not, always pointing out how round and big his stomach is, sagging so far down to cover his shorts. His thighs currently being pinched, a mark undoubtedly being left, he shifts his fat thighs. 

Huffing and closing his eyes, his stomach thrashes from it all. His stomach splayed out in between them, they rest uncomfortably, his meaty thighs no longer used to being spread out at such a wide angle. Shifting, he nearly slips as his arms tremble, tired from supporting his body. His shirt pinches his wings for arms just as his shorts do, his clothes far too tight. A small whimper bubbling in his throat, his body far too aware of the uncomfortableness of the situation, Seteth merely continues huffing. For to move without Byleth's help would be far more damaging than rewarding, his stomach seemingly full of spikes with every shift.

A couple more minutes pass by. Despite the pain, the sensation of being stuffed always seems to bring along the sensation of exhaustion. His stomach slightly more relieved than before, Seteth grunts as he lifts himself, the task more arduous than it should be. And yet, here he is, finding such a simple task arduous because of his eating habits. Because of his increasing weight. His stomach renewing its complaints, Seteth stills. Sleep tightening its grip on him, Seteth's head tilts forward only to be jerked back, Seteth pathetically trying to stay awake. Repeating the process a couple more times, his brain activates high alert mode.

Sniffing the air, his ears twitch. Tongue lolling, any notion of sleep vanishes from his thoughts. Byleth opening the door confirms his nose's suspicions. 

Fried fish.

A bit of saliva forming in the back of his mouth, Seteth's eyes widen as Byleth brings it closer to him. 

"Let's see how much more we can get in that big belly of yours, hmm?" Byleth lovingly gazes. He helps adjust Seteth so he longer rests on his arms.

Abandoning the reason and logic that joined him once Byleth left, Seteth nods his head, unable to say no to more food.

#fat emblem #male weight gain #male wg #feeder emblem #my writing #ssbhm #chub #fat #fat!seteth #fat!threehouses

[pangtasias-atelier]

Happy Birthday @crispyfishh !!

Wrote about Dimitri as a gift for Crispyfishh, his very first art and only one when I first found his blog. And his other ones being just as great.

I'm sure everyone who follows me follows him, cause I always reblog his art, but if you haven't, do so! His art is so soft and cute!

Sorry if this kind of came out a bit short, hope you enjoy! It's at least got the magic 777 word count lol

___________

The table just for one person, the numerous empty plates seem to imply a different story to everyone. Bits and specks of food left on the near cleaned out plates, any visitor's notion of a party taking place would vanish upon seeing the seated figure.

The sturdy bench dipping from its user, it groans under the weight. Dimitri currently using it, he pays no attention to the groaning chair. Instead, he reaches for another plate. Despite his inability to properly taste the flavors of food, Dimitri had found different ways to enjoy it. The texture for one, the warmth from eating soon became an addiction to him. The warm batch of food he just ate always keeping him calm. The feeling of being full was too pleasant an experience, Dimitri relying it as a crutch as he soon began to experience the hardships of ruling a kingdom.

Extremely wide, his back rolls appear ripe for picking, his shirt clings to the oceanic layers of fat. Unable to cover his entire body, the fabric ends halfway past his navel, his stomach falling out past it. Soft supple creamy skin resting on his thighs, they spread out from his gut pushing them apart, any and all space it needed taken up by it. His gut digs into the table, belly pushing past it and on to the table. Shorts extremely tight, his ass stretches it out, each globular cheek bigger than his head. His blue shorts reach barely three quarters to his knees, the fat pinched by the fabric. His legs plump, Dimitri can't remember the last time they met, the two large appendages forced apart at all times. His breasts larger than any woman's, they sag to the side, his flour bag for arms forced to the side with so much fat packed into his frame.

Uncaring about his size, Dimitri instead devours what little plates remain. With those joining the rest of the feast in his stomach, Dimitri sighs. His extreme strength aiding him tremendously, he gets up with ease despite his obese state. Only a slight discomfort from his full state, he begins the trek back to his room to digest it fully. Despite his strength, the pile of fat occupying his body still gets in the way of each other. A waddle necessary to shuffle his legs past one another, his quickness in walking always throws off those who see their King's new form. Taking up half the hallway with his width, Dimitri ignores his lost dignity with such revealing ill fitting clothes. His fat bouncing as he walks, he carries on. Stomach swaying back and forth like a pendulum, his thighs slap against the underside of his stomach. Breasts bouncing, he grabs at them to control them. The staff quickly move out of the way as they spot their rotund king waddling.

Squeezing past his door, Dimitri puts both hands on his stomach, his shirt having risen up. Leaning against the wall, he stretches. Stomach jutting out, he raises his arms high into the air, his fat cheeks squished in-between by them. His breasts shift and sag. Bones cracking, he sighs. Opening his eye, he spots his dessert.

His walk back enough exercise to work up an appetite again, the staff soon got accustomed to Dimitri's requests of dessert and soon found it easier to just have one at the ready for him. Stomach grumbling and mouth salivating, he sits down at his desk. The armrests choke his body, the expanse of his stomach pushed in by them and rolling over them. Lifting the tray, he licks his lips at the cheesecake calling his name. Picking up the fork, he wastes no time in attacking it. The rich, creamy cake going down his throat with each hurried forkful, Dimitri wastes no time in savoring it. Fork soon meeting nothing but the plate, he opens his eye. Nothing left, his stuffed self soon hits him. Groaning, he stands up. Chair stuck to him, he pushes it off of him. Waddling to his bed, Dimitri sighs at the soft, comforting sight.

Bed sinking again from his return, Dimitri huffs as he rubs his stomach. The mass spreading and parting as his sausagey fingers run through it, he sighs. A small burp escaping, he can only blush at his newfound gluttony. "So hungry….," He groans as he stands back up. Swallowing his embarrassment at asking the chefs to cook again, Dimitri waddles his way out of the room, turning sideways as he begins the trek back, his time spent in the Dining Hall almost as much as the time in his room sleeping to digest it all.

#fat!dimitri #fat!threehouses #my writing #go support him!!