FA+
Shop
2704
Views
Views
93
Favorites
Favorites
Category
All / Fat Furs
Species Canine (Other)
Size 1280 x 808
File Size 107.8 kB
Report this content
★
More from Choice_D
It was a rather apalling transformation, to say the least, for it changed Denya inside and out. It started out small; a few negative thoughts here, some dark comments there, just your typical angsty young adult trying to cope with living in the real world, past the illusion that his childhood had set up for him. The hybrid repressed those thoughts, telling himself that everyone had those moments, and that letting them out would just alienate him from his friends, but little did he know that a dangerous darkness had taken hold of him, manifesting deep within himself.
Until the day when it sprung out.
Denya had no chance to stop it, or rather no chance to care. The light grey fur around his belly had fallen out, strand by strand, until it was replaced with a blacker variant to match the rest of his hide. His calm blue stripe was now a bloodied red, complete with a violent jagged pattern that stretched out towards the rest of his body. Even his sunny blonde hair changed to match his stripe, the flowing red locks hanging past his waist. As mentioned earlier, it was an appalling transformation, some would go as far to even call it nightmarish, yet it was initiated from a rather trivial source.
"Fat, am I?" Denya growled in a voice that was not his own, his blackened eyes bloodshot with rage. You read that right, the trigger for the hybrid's demonic form was a remark on his waistline. It wasn't even a direct insult either; no one had walked up to Denya's face, poked his stomach, and called him a pot-bellied pig. It was all on social media, the draolf saw himself tagged in a picture with several other furs on the heavy side, with a comment remarking on how "healthy" everyone looked. But this didn't matter to him; he had been looking for an excuse to finally cast aside his last care in the world and go berserk. "Fat, huh? They called me fat! I'll show them fat! I'll show them the fattest thing they've ever seen!"
He tore off the door by its hinges on his way to the bakery. Such a cliched location where any fatty would be at, so it would make sense that a fatty such as himself would spend the day there, right? Though his angry shoutings and stompings, he made his presence known to everyone inside, so it was only fair that anyone who didn't have the sense to run before he got there should be subject to being his first course. He was hungry, dammit, and what kind of fatty cares about what they eat so long as they get their fill?
He didn't stop there, even with his midsection painfully distended. He was self-destructive, embellishing the thought that any decision he made in that state only served to fuel his anger. The only way to snap him out of such a form was the help of a friend, but who would want to be friends with such a hideous monster, particularly one as fat and grotesque as himself. Because of his attitude, he relished the feeling of having to squeeze his bloated midsection behind the counter, as well as having his stomach strain and gurgle further when he started loading all sorts of treats into his maw. Donuts, cupcakes, cookies; whatever sugary, greasy, fattening treats he could get his grubby mits on.
His belly groaned, strained, grumbled under the intense pressure it was being unfairly subjected to, but Denya didn't care. In this form, his body was strong enough to remain firm under all that pressure; it was his mind that was weak and vulnerable, after all. He ate, then ate, then ate some more, stretchmarks spreading across the end of his taunt belly, until it was finally forced to digest its load. His belly may have stopped growing, but that didn't stop the rest of him from swelling out with extra chub. His tight belly, once so round, started softening and sagging onto his chubby thighs, while his arms were slowly buried beneath additional wings of chub. Speaking of which, the hybrid flapped his two backward appendages, feeling them jiggle his newly formed back rolls. It was a good start, but he needed more.
"God, look how horribly fat I am! I can't even squeeze into the backroom!" The hybrid shouted to no one in particular. In truth, he had no problems busting the door of its hinges and smashing his broad hips through the doorframe, leaving behind a rather curvy hole. The food here may not have even been food, merely ingredients to make baked goods, but Denya was completely above the point of reasoning. He tore through entire bags of sugar, dough, and frosting, swelling out broader with every calorie-filled swallow. His arms rose atop his broadening love handles, while his hips swayed and bumped into everything the draolf found, knocking containers of food from high shelves directly into his gullet. The hybrid could even feel his lengthy hair start to rise up along his flabby rear and swelling back, the slope rising as his rear did. Every bite he took added more pounds to his figure, more weight that would surely take weeks, months, years to work off, but that was how he liked it. In fact, if he ate himself into immobility, then it'd be even harder to get skinny again!
The demonic hybrid purred when his belly started rubbing against the ground and decided to seat himself besides the only untouched shelf of food. Well, calling it food was really stretching it; that shelf contained nothing but the white fatty filling needed to make most pastries. "Well, hello there, buddy. Look at us: two huge puddles of fat to big to move," the draolf grinned wide enough to contort his entire fatty face, staring at the blocks of pure lard, before diving right into them. Within seconds, he felt himself swelling once again, his tail thick enough to put a sleeping bag to shame, his stomach large enough to set food on like a shelf. Grease stained his pudgy cheeks, each of which sagged to his shoulders.
"I'm a blob! I'm a whale! Look how hideous I am!" Denya cried out, laughing hysterically as he sloppily devoured the remainder of his meal. He couldn't reach past his moobs, let alone the shelf beside him. What was in reach were some left over bread and pastries scattered about on his colossal gut, which he savored slowly. The hybrid groaned, feeling his overfilled belly gurgle and slosh, a cauldron of blubber struggling to digest its massive meal. He couldn't wait until more furs came to hear the commotion, to gawk and stare at the immobile pile of pudge. Let them laugh! He may not look it, but the hybrid still had the strength to lunge at a few more victims should he require another snack.
Phew, that was a little long x.x please enjoy the story that's part rant, party spooky, and part fatty nonsense~
It's been a while since I wrote about Hybrid Denya, let alone his different forms and powers. Venom sorta inspired me to write about an evil gluttenous monster, and I've been feeling kinda all over the place in terms of mood and whatnot, so I commissioned
psychicthehedgehog to draw 5th power Denya turning himself into a blob, and he certainly delivered! Thanks so much dude~ ^^
Until the day when it sprung out.
Denya had no chance to stop it, or rather no chance to care. The light grey fur around his belly had fallen out, strand by strand, until it was replaced with a blacker variant to match the rest of his hide. His calm blue stripe was now a bloodied red, complete with a violent jagged pattern that stretched out towards the rest of his body. Even his sunny blonde hair changed to match his stripe, the flowing red locks hanging past his waist. As mentioned earlier, it was an appalling transformation, some would go as far to even call it nightmarish, yet it was initiated from a rather trivial source.
"Fat, am I?" Denya growled in a voice that was not his own, his blackened eyes bloodshot with rage. You read that right, the trigger for the hybrid's demonic form was a remark on his waistline. It wasn't even a direct insult either; no one had walked up to Denya's face, poked his stomach, and called him a pot-bellied pig. It was all on social media, the draolf saw himself tagged in a picture with several other furs on the heavy side, with a comment remarking on how "healthy" everyone looked. But this didn't matter to him; he had been looking for an excuse to finally cast aside his last care in the world and go berserk. "Fat, huh? They called me fat! I'll show them fat! I'll show them the fattest thing they've ever seen!"
He tore off the door by its hinges on his way to the bakery. Such a cliched location where any fatty would be at, so it would make sense that a fatty such as himself would spend the day there, right? Though his angry shoutings and stompings, he made his presence known to everyone inside, so it was only fair that anyone who didn't have the sense to run before he got there should be subject to being his first course. He was hungry, dammit, and what kind of fatty cares about what they eat so long as they get their fill?
He didn't stop there, even with his midsection painfully distended. He was self-destructive, embellishing the thought that any decision he made in that state only served to fuel his anger. The only way to snap him out of such a form was the help of a friend, but who would want to be friends with such a hideous monster, particularly one as fat and grotesque as himself. Because of his attitude, he relished the feeling of having to squeeze his bloated midsection behind the counter, as well as having his stomach strain and gurgle further when he started loading all sorts of treats into his maw. Donuts, cupcakes, cookies; whatever sugary, greasy, fattening treats he could get his grubby mits on.
His belly groaned, strained, grumbled under the intense pressure it was being unfairly subjected to, but Denya didn't care. In this form, his body was strong enough to remain firm under all that pressure; it was his mind that was weak and vulnerable, after all. He ate, then ate, then ate some more, stretchmarks spreading across the end of his taunt belly, until it was finally forced to digest its load. His belly may have stopped growing, but that didn't stop the rest of him from swelling out with extra chub. His tight belly, once so round, started softening and sagging onto his chubby thighs, while his arms were slowly buried beneath additional wings of chub. Speaking of which, the hybrid flapped his two backward appendages, feeling them jiggle his newly formed back rolls. It was a good start, but he needed more.
"God, look how horribly fat I am! I can't even squeeze into the backroom!" The hybrid shouted to no one in particular. In truth, he had no problems busting the door of its hinges and smashing his broad hips through the doorframe, leaving behind a rather curvy hole. The food here may not have even been food, merely ingredients to make baked goods, but Denya was completely above the point of reasoning. He tore through entire bags of sugar, dough, and frosting, swelling out broader with every calorie-filled swallow. His arms rose atop his broadening love handles, while his hips swayed and bumped into everything the draolf found, knocking containers of food from high shelves directly into his gullet. The hybrid could even feel his lengthy hair start to rise up along his flabby rear and swelling back, the slope rising as his rear did. Every bite he took added more pounds to his figure, more weight that would surely take weeks, months, years to work off, but that was how he liked it. In fact, if he ate himself into immobility, then it'd be even harder to get skinny again!
The demonic hybrid purred when his belly started rubbing against the ground and decided to seat himself besides the only untouched shelf of food. Well, calling it food was really stretching it; that shelf contained nothing but the white fatty filling needed to make most pastries. "Well, hello there, buddy. Look at us: two huge puddles of fat to big to move," the draolf grinned wide enough to contort his entire fatty face, staring at the blocks of pure lard, before diving right into them. Within seconds, he felt himself swelling once again, his tail thick enough to put a sleeping bag to shame, his stomach large enough to set food on like a shelf. Grease stained his pudgy cheeks, each of which sagged to his shoulders.
"I'm a blob! I'm a whale! Look how hideous I am!" Denya cried out, laughing hysterically as he sloppily devoured the remainder of his meal. He couldn't reach past his moobs, let alone the shelf beside him. What was in reach were some left over bread and pastries scattered about on his colossal gut, which he savored slowly. The hybrid groaned, feeling his overfilled belly gurgle and slosh, a cauldron of blubber struggling to digest its massive meal. He couldn't wait until more furs came to hear the commotion, to gawk and stare at the immobile pile of pudge. Let them laugh! He may not look it, but the hybrid still had the strength to lunge at a few more victims should he require another snack.
Phew, that was a little long x.x please enjoy the story that's part rant, party spooky, and part fatty nonsense~
It's been a while since I wrote about Hybrid Denya, let alone his different forms and powers. Venom sorta inspired me to write about an evil gluttenous monster, and I've been feeling kinda all over the place in terms of mood and whatnot, so I commissioned
psychicthehedgehog to draw 5th power Denya turning himself into a blob, and he certainly delivered! Thanks so much dude~ ^^
Category All / Fat Furs
Species Canine (Other)
Size 1280 x 808px
File Size 107.8 kB
Thank you! Get ready for the wall of text that you've brought upon yourself lmao
5th Power Denya, or State of Grief, happens when he's under extreme emotional stress. His body changes like that because he's in an incredibly self-destructive mindset that can only be satisfied from outside help or until he's relieved himself of the stress (which could take quite a while depending on how severe it is). In Hybrid, the fighters can channel an inner power to create weapons or use mental attacks, but in this form, Denya can't concentrate and attacks using brute strength. While it's not drawn here, his fur also sorta wraps around itself to form a natural chain armor, which on top of the ability to not feel any pain, means he can take one heck of a beating. He's still vulnerable to the mental attacks I listed earlier, although it's usually a 50/50 shot of whether or not they'll subdue him or rile him up further.
Thanks for reading <3
5th Power Denya, or State of Grief, happens when he's under extreme emotional stress. His body changes like that because he's in an incredibly self-destructive mindset that can only be satisfied from outside help or until he's relieved himself of the stress (which could take quite a while depending on how severe it is). In Hybrid, the fighters can channel an inner power to create weapons or use mental attacks, but in this form, Denya can't concentrate and attacks using brute strength. While it's not drawn here, his fur also sorta wraps around itself to form a natural chain armor, which on top of the ability to not feel any pain, means he can take one heck of a beating. He's still vulnerable to the mental attacks I listed earlier, although it's usually a 50/50 shot of whether or not they'll subdue him or rile him up further.
Thanks for reading <3
Comments