Fire Emblem (Fat)es Pt. 08


Mozu’s village

The ample apothecary jots down with charcoal the last sentence of her report with her plump hands, now coated in a thick layer of the impure graphite. She leans over to her right side with a grunt, feeling around of the dropped cloth she’s been overusing to wipe away the access combustion while reading her report. Her small stomach rolls fold neatly into the lush hip he leans over, the soft adipose gives way as much as able, but the sheer mass of these fifty-six-inch hips still hold a barrier for Mozu, making effort physically to barely touch the ground next to her worktable she’s kneeling over, writing away into the wee hours of the night. The folds of her stomach catch her strained robes, giving chance opportunity to test the fibers hold on her expanding body. She could feel this tug, is not for the hyper fixation of getting her report ready. The back of her left-handed sleeve wipes away the beads of sweat forming from her brow, trying to keep them from pouring down and catching in the deep pocket created by the tight crack between her thick double chin and neck.

“Report Conclusion: This variant of Dragon Herbs described in this report that was discovered in my last expedition with the Corrin Liberation Force hold similar properties to the nature of this new magical curse infecting both countries. Both the herb and host can hold a large amount of magical prowess that reacts intensively when combined with our forms. Though the Dragon Herb is usually a tonic distilled and ingested to give the user greater perimeter of ability, the curse is acting in a similar manner, able to have us hold a great amount of magical prowess, albeit presenting differently. Both personal observations and testaments from interviewed subjects show, despite the radical change in physical form, little is compromised in the ability to shift and move. Reports have shown energy is equal

to or greater than prior to cursed state. Long term ramifications-“


The tearing of Mozu’s outfit, catching in her folds and thighs while reaching for the cloth, revealing a thick layer of soft flesh, almost gasping when finally free from the confines of her modest clothing. The poor girl sighs while turning beat red, finishing the sentence she was looking over.

“-will need more longitudinal studies. I will be working on variation of distilling what Dragon Herbs I can find and report any other conclusions on curing or even housing the curse in a similar fashion.”

Mozu places the thick stack of parchment upon her table, near it supplies to wrap it up to make it safe for travel. She finally pivots her mass around to find the bit of cloth she was looking for, reaching down for it while her right-hand attempts vainly to hold together the tear under her left arm. Her modest bust made the task possible, though the lush upper arms spanning close to a foot makes up for the fact, making the task still difficult, and amusing for onlookers to note this oversized woman trying to clean off the charcoal she’s now covered in.

“Seems like just yesterday we were enjoying you making us a Potato Stew for the first time,” a familiar voice from the agape front calls to the bell-shaped researcher, chiming her back to reality that she is not alone. She squeaks in shock and embarrassment, covering her face with the dirty hands, but releasing the ever-growing tear of the flimsy clothes.

“K-Kaze!? I thought you wouldn’t be back for another week!?”

The Green-haired guest walks over the stacks of notes, herbs, and scrolls, the soft bottom of his footgear makes a sound. Standing in front of the beet-red mess of an herbalist, he gives a calm, slight smile. He kneels to grab the dropped cloth, then slowly reaches for one of the nervous hands covering Mozu’s face.

“Our time apart is unbearable, my love. I am more used to you doing research back home. Besides, I could not let Saizo have all the fun in helping our wonderful queen.”

The deep blush grows. The daring ninja always knew the right thing bursa escort to say to this country gal that makes her quiver so. Mozu feels the cloth wiping the back of her hands, feeling the caked layer finally moving away. She dares to finally give herself a glimpse of her guest. The six-foot man of her life stares deep into her being with his dark purple eyes, glimmering like amethyst from the dimly lite candles giving illumination to her husband.

“Now please, let me see those hands of yours.” He asks calmly, extending his hand out for the peeping eye to see. Cursing internally, she does so. It is impossible for her to say no to him, the calm and benevolent voice from such a stalwart figure means well against someone as timid as Mozu. Yet Kaze never abused this trust between them, never asking for anything out of turn. Its hard to wrap her head around how someone of her stature, nature, talent, and beauty would settle for someone like… herself. A fatty ball of anxiety and plain-Jane looks, nothing accents out that would make her feel alluring for anyone of even her position, let alone for Kaze. Even with the curse, it seemed to work against her, doing nothing for particular assets she always wished she had more of, that even a magical curse seemed to work against her. Yet ever since their time in Corrin’s forces, and bonding over the mundane task of peeling potatoes, he has been hers and hers alone. Her all-too-common thought process is interrupted as Kaze has moved to her plump face, clearing off her graphite-smothered features with a new cloth he had on him.

“There’s that beautiful face and I know and love.” He says with a smile, then slowly placing a kiss upon her forehead. Mozu turns away in embarrassment once more.

“Oh no, sweetheart, your robes!” The ninja barely exclaims, noting the tear under her right arm’s attempt to extenuate the mistake of her directionless actions.

Trying to hand waive the topic away, Mozu waves her hands erratically in front of her, her upper arm flops erratically with the intensified motions.

“I-i-its nothin’ Kaze, I don’t need you frettin’ over my clutzy behind, it was my own darned fault,” her country ascent coming to a boil has her embarrassment grows as fast as her behind has, trying in vain to diffuse the situation from her growing embarrassment. The Ninja stands up, leans over, and kisses the top of the flustered wife,

“Mozu, you are never a bother. Now, I have packed a few spare robes for you I had made for you.” He places his pack down next to him, larger than his torso, where inside was stored three extra robes of white with green, purple with black, and red with blue. He turns to leave, noting, “I’ll let you get dressed. I know you feel down on yourself for this state of being, so I wont strain you with my gaze. I’ll gather some ingredients for some foo-“

He feels the soft enveloping wrap of arms around his torso, pockets of adipose squeeze between the grip of his strong fingers, halfway enveloping his digits. The soft hands slowly spin Kaze around to start down at the abashed apothecary. Before he can protest, he places a plump finger to his lips,

“Please… Don’t leave. I… Need you…”

She pushes herself up upon her toes to plant a kiss upon those lips she missed so much. The wash of mint and granola recedes into her mouth, causing a cascade of beautiful memories of spending time in the wilds, cataloging nearby fauna from Kaze’s village. The figments of the cool spring breeze spring forth in her moment, the overwhelming scent of fauna fills her nose with a placebo of marrier, (and lighter), times in her life. But being in Kaze’s embrace makes her feel lighter than those wonderful breezes, a feeling that coincides a brief reprieve of her heavy-handed situation life has set upon her. She starts to weave her hands into Kaze’s garden green hair. Thick, but without a knot, reminding her of the fur blankets from their home she would caress when Kaze is gone.


The noise brings a brief bursa escort bayan reprieve of their intimate moment as the couple look around, trying to find the cause of the noise.

“Watch out!” The ninja exclaims as the ground beneath them-


-gives way. Kaze swings his grip on Mozu, causing them to collide with a stack of field notes and fungi samples, collapsing all over them. Mozo shakes her head, noting the pile of academia strewn around her, no sight of Kaze.

“K-Kaze? Kaze!?” Mozu calls out, looking around frantically for her green guardian. Muffles can be heard though by the adequate apothecary, as she feels movement beneath her. Panicking that some of her larva got mixed with up in the fall, she frantically tries to push herself up. A feat easier wrote than performed by someone of Mozu’s size. She begins to shove what she can out of the way to make room for a side roll, until finding the cause of the movement; her poor Kaze, crushed underneath her. Blood rushes to her face, as she starts bombarding Kaze with apology after apology, only to be interrupted with a hearty laugh from him. Taken aback, Mozo pauses, confused why the crushing of Kaze under her weight and notes would be funny. He wiggles an arm from underneath her, cupping Mozu’s plump face, gazing deep into her eyes.


One mile east of Corrin’s Bordercamp, Present

Nyx launches a blast of fire from her hand, outstretched behind her to give her lift, pushing her large frame to her left as a large green tendril of energy smashes down on the spot she just vacated. Nyx rolls with the force but reaches out with her free hand to catch the ground to prevent her from cascading down the side of the cliff. She clutches the ground hard, utilizing her abundance of energy to grab into the dirt and slow she velocity. Her weight pivots her around, her large rear now facing the cliff while in a three-point poise, staring up at the reptile abomination before her.

The expanded pool of magic Nyx draws from now is offsetting the lack of her physical mobility, trying to use the forces of magic to maneuver around her opposition for an opening. If anything, Nyx hoped to have ambushed this assailant. But no one, not even Nyx, can predict every move an enemy makes, and her assailant’s appalling appetite for her poor guard’s reservoir of magic buildup was too good to wait until safety. With a small discharge from the planted hand, shoots Nyx standing back up to face her serpentine seductress. It was as though, Nyx surmises, that whom she is facing is imbued with a large influx of magic, causing a physical metamorphosis to be able to house the now-excess magic within her.

With a hiss, the opponent twists her outstretched right hand clockwise, causing the tendril to roll. With a spin of her hand, she sends the energy skimming across the ground at highspeed, tearing up the ground as it makes speed towards Nyx.

With a gasp, Nyx aims her hand towards the ground as centered as she can. With a blast, she sends her self-flying upwards to avoid the tendril, just avoiding it and a kick up of dirt and rocks. What Nyx didn’t account for was being launched not up upward, but behind as well, as her plush frame prevented her from getting a center with the downward blast as she could. With a growl and a curse, Nyx attempts to spin along with the momentum, flipping her upside-down. Her massive stomach and breast flip upward, obscuring her flipped perspective. Relying on raw intuition, Nyx fires two blasts in succession, trying to cancel the created momentum and send her back towards her opposition. The first was towards the air, to cancel the momentum of the first blast while realigning her to face her opponent while forcing her arm to motion behind herself to blast towards her enemy. She yelps in pain, as trying to move her around so quickly is causing her tendons in her arm to tear. Nyx escort bursa bites her bottom lip, trying to stay focused for the next part of her plan.

Candance dips the top of her wrist towards her mouth as she chuckles aloud from her observations of her opponent’s aerial aerobics. Seeing the black blob pivot and roll around in the air, undulating with each force of her magic blasts is a sight to behold. Done with being amused, she reaches out her chortling hand to conjure yet another tendril. After Nyx is firing herself towards the cliff where Candace waits, the vile villainess directs both energy tendrils towards the fast-approaching Nyx.

In a strange move, Nyx drops her fire tome, causing Candance to chuckle even more, causing the villain to think,

“Sad, I was hoping for more of a challenge. Glad to see her at least making it easier for the both of us. She will make a fine meal though!”

Nyx can no longer contain her smirk, pulling out with the free hand another tome she way carrying.


Black, grasping vines pierce through the tendrils coming for Nyx, absorbing them as she continues her course, using them to tighten around their target and flinging Nyx even faster at her target. The drained energy feeds back into Nyx, restoring her back to form, (including the shoulder injury), while giving her excess that stores into her form. Her body starts ballooning in all directions, adding dozens of pounds to her in mere moments. But it seems her destination is not just to the clifftop, but directly at her opposition!

“Ssssshe can’t be sssseriou-” Candace began to hiss in disbelief as she is hit by the force of her opposition, ripples of fat and magic ebb and echo as the sound catches up and cracks the air around them, causing Candance to fly backward while releasing her grip on Sophie. Nyx lands to the ground with a resounding thud and moan.

Rolling over with a great deal of effort, Nyx pushes herself up beneath her arms with a casting of Nosferatu’s, coiling the vines underneath her bigger arms and shoulders as a makeshift spring, leaving a dead circle of grass and hedge behind. The last bit of energy builds up in Nyx, letting out a slight belch from the topping of energy, masking a tearing sound of her strained mesh shirt around her abdomen. She waddles hurriedly towards the unconscious Sophie, trying her best to bend down and reach her. Nyx finds her greater girth difficult to overcome not in effort, but in sheer size as she arms care not long enough to reach around her bloated belly, let alone bend it to let her reach the ground. Growing a staggering fifty pounds in a less then a minute has hit Nyx hard, much of which has finally hit her gut. What was eight days ago finally halting her weight at around the 350-pound mark, the bulk of the new weight ended up in her arms and stomach, distributing her shape less of a pear and more evenly. From a comparatively small four inches are now doubling, the upper arms sag in front of and behind the elbow egregiously. But what was a dip in her arms compares little to the gut before her, changing in more than jutting towards her feet, but outward and around her as well. Her love handles have kicked in in plural, the larger of them now enwrap around her torso and sticking roughly two inches from her core. This dip and curve of the bigger handles give form into a cinch just below the bellybutton, forming into a wonderful ‘w’ shape. The top of her adorable adipose of her abdomen juts and rests atop, forming a second belly, with those handles sticking out an inch and a half. Her rear still stands the largest of her assets, now protruding an astonishing five extra inches at 65-inch mark.

“Sorry Sophie, this might sting tomorrow,” Nyx says as she directs the coiled vines to place Sophie atop of Nyx’s left shoulder, burning the silent soldier around her own sizable stomach and adding further to Nyx’s, finally causing the stretched for its lifetime pair of underwear to give way, now her rear hitting the 66-inch mark. With another casting with a flushed expression, Nyx was able to use Nosferatu to lower them down from the cliff while aiding Nyx back to camp as swinging from hanging vines that propel her forth, letting forth echoing burps throughout the border wall mountains back to camp.

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