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Rodin and The Spirits of Expansion

Summary:

After Bayonetta's adventure with a slew of other characters, Rodin enters a decrepit land, on the hunt for remaining spirits causing havoc through the many worlds. Before long, he reaches an abandoned castle, or so he would have thought. For inside these stone walls, he finds himself subjected to size and matter-altering powers beyond his imagination.

Notes:

Contains weight gain, eating, feeding, air inflation, popping, deflation, and coarse language.

The sequel to this story can be read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/79534536

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     Traversing across a barren landscape devoid of life nor hardly any light, Rodin made his way through an unknown world. The stone field, littered with crumbled debris and abandoned weaponry appeared fairly close to the likes of Inferno, reminding the demonic weapons dealer of the place he had once called home, despite his current location being far tamer from it. The last several days had been plagued with near-constant work, having to traverse realm upon realm to clean up the leftovers of Bayonetta’s latest adventure; one that would take her across many worlds, uniting her with many individuals across them all. Thinking over it again, Rodin remained stunned by these recent series of events. The dark blue sky hung above him and the lonesome land, having gone into ruin alongside many other worlds with the threat of Galeem and Dharkon and their puppet fighters, their forces bolstered by an unending onslaught of spirits. While these unfathomable beings had a considerable advantage thanks to these spirits, Rodin, Bayonetta, and the many other heroes that withstood their invasion of their worlds had an equal benefit from them, enhancing their abilities and aiding them in such difficult battles.

     With the discovery of many worlds housing these spirits, Rodin quickly sensed that he had his work cut out for him, far more than usual on this occasion. He had ventured to this strange, unknown land for one purpose: To find elusive spirits tucked away in its corners like the other worlds he travelled to. Many of them still remained, ones that Bayonetta and those from the other worlds were unable to obtain during their journey to defeat Galeem and Dharkon. With Rodin’s involvement, his objective was to capture these leftover spirits, stopping them from wreaking any more havoc. Having come from Manhattan, the demon wore a rather casual get-up in the midst of running these otherworldly errands.

     His dark brown skin sported black markings all over it, most prominently seen along his hands and face. A leathery long-sleeved shirt sporting black and grey stripes covered his upper half, the pattern horizontally running down his chest, torso, and sleeves. Intricate markings made themselves known on the black stripes, the same colour closing in on Rodin’s neck at the fabric’s top. Around his neck was a gold chain with a circular ring hanging from it, resting against his chest directly above his shirt. A blue metal snake wrapped itself around the ring, melded to the metal material that the blacksmith wore with pride. Surrounding his lower half was a pair of stylized pants, coloured an eye-catching shade of purple that appeared not too dark nor too light. Embedded lines of black fabric and long zippers ran along the bottoms at titled angles, the latter horizontally so atop of Rodin’s knees. Below the pants, a pair of large greyish-purple athletic boots reached above his ankles, providing ample support for moving about. Many accessories adorned the blacksmith’s body, mainly towards the top of his form. Aside from that dangling gold chain with a twisting snake around its ring, his smoothened head was obscured by a black fedora, his beady red eyes by dark sunglasses, and his fingers bearing a different set of rings on each hand; gold on his left and blue on his right.

     The moon’s piercing light lit Rodin’s way through the flat terrain, practically a spotlight against his fit, muscular, and above all, imposing form. Throughout the long journey towards his current destination, the infernal being never grew weary, his powerful strength and speed allowing him to move quick and without fail, the latter carrying him through the vast expanse of land in no time. Fortunately for him and the sake of time, Rodin could soon see his objective off in the horizon, illuminated by a vast pool of lava that casted a fiery red towards the dark blue sky.

     “Would you look at that. Must be my light at the end of the tunnel.” Rodin spoke to himself, his gruff, deep voice cutting through the darkness still present until he got mighty close to where he was headed: An enormous castle in the middle of an ocean of lava, standing atop a rectangular stone pillar that withstood the flaming threat below.

     A long metal platform, sporting many holes that gave it the appearance of a grate, provided a walkway for the demon to cross at the end of the dilapidated landscape, stretching across many feet before leading to a stone platform at its centre, an identical grate laying ahead on the other side of it. Directly in front of this stone platform, a simple moat made of wood and spanning several feet wide provided his entrance into the formidable structure, the entryway appearing abandoned in its operation as burnt edges from the lava below and accumulating muck hinted at it laying dormant for quite some time.

     “What a sight to behold.” Rodin sarcastically uttered, looking up at the castle right before him.

     The building had a layered structure akin to a cake, starting out wide at its rectangular base, thinning out with the two floors above it. While the middle floor appeared similar to the first floor albeit much smaller and without large spikes along the upper edges, the top floor – reminiscent of a watchtower - was built with a pair of arms and a head sticking out from its sides and top respectively, appearing as a statue of an imposing reptilian creature, its beastly face frozen in a villainous laugh as a bright flame thrived inside its open mouth.

     “Almost looks like something down in Inferno, only this place is more intact.” Rodin commented on the castle, before crossing the moat and making his way towards the arched double-doors built of brown wood and black metal strips – one going down the middle and two across them.

     WHAM!!

     Breaking through the front wooden doors with a powerful kick, Rodin wasted no time in entering the castle, finding himself inside a structure that appeared far larger within its walls than its exterior let on.

     “Quite an extravagant place we have here… fit for a king.” He mused, eying the foyer as he made his way further inside.

     Shiny white flooring and long red carpeting were apparent from where he stood, the latter vertically extending down the place, passing by two rooms on each side of it that added to the already sizeable foyer. The thin velvety material stretched from the main entrance to a bright purple door directly across from it, attracting the weapons dealer’s attention. Relying on his gut feeling, Rodin made his way through this colourful door, emerging into a far larger room with a narrow path that ventured forth by many feet, before splitting in two directions in front of an open door leading into what appeared to be an auditorium. Surrounding this narrow path was a pit of lava, writhing and bubbling in intense temperatures that unfazed a demon such as him. Rodin explored this room and the rest of the castle that laid before him, navigating down the path to the left of the auditorium to enter a series of doors, corridors, stairs, and small rooms, nearly all of them boasting nothing but the same white flooring. In each location within the castle, the blacksmith searched for spirits, his sharp, keen senses staying on-edge for even the slightest sighting of one. His pursuit of them in tandem with his exploration of the castle would soon lead him to a dead end.

     Another kick through a pair of large, wooden, arch-shaped doors allowed Rodin to enter by-far the strangest room in the castle, being a brightly-lit, square-shaped, dining room-sized space with red walls and an orange floor – the latter patterned with insignias of the reptilian creature’s face whose head and arms were modeled on the castle’s exterior. Much of this place sported plenty of space as Rodin walked into its centre. Large, lengthy tables were tucked in and along the other walls of the room, leaving be only the side where he had entered from. On each one – the furthest surfaces covered with white cloth and the surrounding ones in barren wood – plates upon plates of warm, fresh, and delicious food, each and every one of them surprisingly large in portions, awaited the demon, his red eyes shifting from behind his sunglasses. Warmth radiated all throughout the room, the freshness of this food palpable beyond belief. A wide variety of delectable meals sat in place, the porcelain beneath them brushing against one another to make use of every possible inch of tablespace. Enormous slabs of ham and steak, coated in butter and drenched in barbeque sauce, swirled stacks of pasta, topped with plenty of marinara sauce and heavy snowfall of parmesan cheese, triple-layered cakes covered in thick, creamy icing and plenty of strawberries, and far more compelled Rodin to further enter this buffet room, his boots thumping against the orange floor with every step made.

     “And here I thought this castle was enough for its ruler.” The demon spoke with sarcasm, eyeing the enormous feast just sitting there, steam rising from these freshly-cooked meals as the scents of butter, sauce, and icing reached his senses, his booming footsteps inching towards the tables at the room’s end.

     “Whoever put this here sure knows how to whip up somethin’ real good.” He added, his eyes aimed towards the scrumptious plates.

     Just as he grew close to approaching the food - only half a dozen feet away from the table - three boos materialized right in front of him, separating him from the massive feast. These small white apparitions, transparent and ghastly white with two stubby protrusions for arms, cackled as they greeted Rodin, the blacksmith standing on guard as soon as they revealed themselves.

     “You look quite frail.” The boo hovering in the centre spoke in its high-pitched voice. “Please, we insist that you eat all you like!” The two boos on both sides of the one speaking let loose a riotous laugh with a defining “Heehee!”

     Rodin already sensed these creatures’ trickery, his eyes noticing signs of possession within the trio. “Must be some of those puppet fighters Bayonetta told me about.” He thought to himself, staring closely at them for a handful of seconds.

     The physical beings (albeit transparent in their ghostly forms) interacting with Rodin and the castle were nothing like the spirits taking possession of these corporeal forms, acting on their own instincts and desires through mischief and destruction. Between their dark red and purple eyes showing them under Galeem and Dharkon’s control - plus the nature of their intent regarding the buffet room’s contents - Rodin knew that they could not be reasoned with, taking down and containing them being his upmost priority.

     “Listen… I may be peckish, but I’ll have to pass. I’ve got some work to take care of first.” Rodin told the boos, before laying waste to them with his ring-clad fists… or so he would have thought.

     Given their ghastly forms, the boos simply vanished from sight before Rodin could knock their lights out. On one hand, he had a feeling this would happen, but on the other, simply wanted to get their little charade over with so he could nab them. The weapons dealer waited to see what the boos would do next, remaining invisible for several hearty seconds. His stance was firm against the floor, legs spread out and his knees bent, ready for whatever would come at him hereon. And yet, he was met with a being entirely different from the boos when they reemerged.

     Forming out of thin air and falling onto the floor from a few feet above, a large reptilian creature cracked the ground with its immense weight, sporting a similar face to that of the stone carvings outside the castle as well as whose insignias were all over the buffet room floor. His scaly yellow body covered much of his form, his back protruding vastly with a giant shell of rough green, golden spikes plastered all over it. A head of red hair and eyebrows underneath it stood out from much of his complexion, save for a line of green scales atop the upper portion of his face – spanning his eyes and directly above his nose. His eyes were of a red and purple complexion, indicating he was a puppet fighter being used as a vessel by the three boos. Normally, a creature of such sizeable, ferocious magnitude would unfaze Rodin, having dealt with plenty of foes across countless years. And while he remained as such in front of this creature, he could not help but feel bewildered by its physicality.

     In upmost abundance, pure fat swaddled the creature’s kingly body, making him at least twice as wide than what he normally would have been. A soft, rounded belly jutted out by a good few feet, its width just as noticeable to any onlooker. That big head of his looked far larger, swollen with chipmunk cheeks and accompanied by a triple-chin that further gave him the look of a bonafide glutton. A pair of spiky bands strained against his wider arms, nearly fit to burst by the act of mere observation. Just beyond these accessories, the thick claws on his hands planted themselves on his wide hips, a sharp-toothed grin equally vast shining through his plump cheeks as he spoke in a far gruffer voice than Rodin’s, albeit equally deeper due to the lard lowering his vocal chords, sporting a more peculiar manner of speaking from the boos possessing him.

     “Not so fast, tough guy!” The puppet fighter teased Rodin, letting out a girthy belly laugh right after, his thick tail swishing from behind. “Don’t think that you’re getting rid of us that easy.”

     As if on cue, the being raised his thick right hand out and concentrated, causing the walls, floor, and ceiling to briefly warp as a rainbow tint enveloped the room just as quickly. Once subsiding, the sounds of skittering and waddling on the floor behind Rodin caused him to turn his head back. There, towards the ground, a number of other puppet fighters – taking over the bodies of small creatures – appeared and approached the weapons dealer, snickering and smiling wickedly. These vessels were comprised of a strange group of short beings, intent on fattening up whoever they came across alongside the boos. Pink moles with stubby hands were the most common of the bunch, wearing little chef’s hats and aprons, a fork holding a large slice of strawberry-topped cake in their hands as their stubby feet shuffled towards the demon. Creatures similar to these cooks followed behind them, such as pale white ones with giant doughnuts on their forks, bright red ones digging through the floor, emerging with ripe apples in their claws, and red-furred apes wearing blue jeans and yellow backpacks, grabbing apples out of the latter to eagerly feed whoever they could.

     Despite their small sizes, the group’s large numbers plus sinister demeanours under possession were nothing to take lightly, this army of at least a dozen puppet fighters hastily nearing Rodin. With inhuman speed, he completely turned around, side-sweeping the vast majority of critters before pummeling any remaining with his fists, grabbing and throwing them out of the open doors, each one vanishing in a puff of smoke upon defeat. At first, he thought this latest threat had been firmly dealt with, only for his hopes to again be dashed just as fast. Near-instantly, the pastry and apple-wielding puppet fighters reappeared, now twice as many alongside bizarre waddling mushrooms and green and red-shelled turtles, all their eyes glowing red and purple, cackling at the sight of their latest captive. Rodin began to walk backwards, taking several steps with careful precision, only to back up directly into the belly of the reptilian puppet fighter, leaving the blacksmith stuck between an army of feeders and a soft place. As tensions grew between the imposing demon and the numerous puppet fighters surrounding him, the smell of the feast’s varied foods and desserts overrode the subtle rise of urgency to act. It provided Rodin with a sense of calm, despite always remaining as such in his demeanour no matter the situation.

     “You should see what we did to this castle’s previous ruler.” One of the boos inside the reptilian puppet fighter pridefully boasted. “He may be standing before you all fat and wide, but we made him as big as this castle! The two of you shall get along nicely once we feed you well.” The two other boos cackled from the same mouth used to speak through the heavy puppet fighter, letting out a disjointed, screeching “Heehee!”

     In this moment of limited options, a substantial realization struck Rodin. Having tried his hand at vanquishing these puppet fighters to no avail – spawning again and again in bigger groups - he had no way out of this situation. Nothing he did would neutralize this bothersome threat while being trapped in this dead end of the castle. But these circumstances began to feel less dire with the involvement of such sweet, succulent food surrounding him. In his mind, he concluded that the only way he could get through this ambush was to give in, to let these puppet fighters feed him as much as they desired if it meant getting out of here and figuring out a new approach to defeating them for good.

     “We insist that you eat all you like!” The main Boo once again said, grinning widely and better showing off the reptilian’s sharp teeth.

     “Alright, you ghouls.” Rodin spoke to the puppet fighters, putting his hands up whilst shrugging. “If you’re gonna fatten me up, it’s best to get it over with. Hell, I’ll even get started myself.”

     The puppet fighters in the room grew ecstatic by this acceptance, the reptilian king letting out a roaring laughter while the chefs and other minions cackled. Rodin let out a hearty laugh of his own, standing before many morsels of food that were nearly as big as his burly body.

     “Just you watch. I’m gonna eat it all!” The demon proudly proclaimed, the fattened puppet fighter waddling towards the front doors to act as a blockade while the blacksmith walked up to the cloth-clad tables full of food.

     With an appetite as powerful and ravenous as his strength and speed, Rodin immediately delved into this plentiful feast, using his bare hands to tear at and stuff himself silly with every meal that was his to consume. He wasted no time chomping down humongous morsels of meat to the bone, cleaning the roasted protein off them and letting out a hearty sigh with each one finished. Both lips were licked as he tasted the rich slathering of tangy barbeque sauce that covered them like icing. Glazed honey-hams and juicy rib-eye steaks were abundant in these vast offerings, as were ginormous racks of ribs and buttery salmons with plenty of garnish. The immortal weapons dealer worked his way through every single one of them, going from table to table to eat everything edible in sight. Given the sheer quantity of food and their unbelievable sizes, it did not take long for them to house themselves inside Rodin, the physical signs of which became widely apparent in no time. With every few plates he cleared, Rodin’s body rapidly ballooned outwards, pillowy fat swelling all over him as his iron stomach worked rapidly to digest and distribute these meals.

     Each of his well-toned abs immediately vanished from underneath his top, melting like butter as a soft layer of fat swelled beneath them. The specialty fabric protruded forth alongside his chest, heavily sagging and far larger than the bustiest chest-sizes Rodin had ever seen across his eternal existence. Directly below them, his stomach growled nosily, already bulging into a potbelly that hastily overflowed from its worn confines, its dark brown underside peeking from his stretching shirt before revealing more and more of it with every plate of food devoured. Similar exposure simultaneously commenced from the demon’s behind, the top of which spilled out from his tightening pants, revealing an asscrack that deepened in tandem with its own swelling, blowing out further and further whilst straining the seat of those purple bottoms. Both thighs and legs bulged from beneath their now-snug fittings, the former rubbing against one another while widening several times from what they once were. At the ends of his body, even the demon’s hands and feet thickened out, grunting as his boots tightened from the shrinking space within them, while using his clumsier hands to grab the many plates remaining and the food eagerly waiting to plop into his gut.

     Soon enough, after working his way through half the feast, Rodin had already put on several hundred pounds. His top firmly hugged his couch-cushion-sized chest while his bottoms stretched around his couch-sized ass. Directly above the straining fabric, the upper portion of his deep asscrack stuck out with no restraint, the thin fabric of blue underwear patterned with little cartoon penguins sprouting into prominence alongside it. This ill-fitting shift in Rodin’s entire attire caused his belly to hang free, jiggling with every waddle he made throughout the shrinking buffet room. These added pounds of colossal proportions did nothing to deter the rotund blacksmith from not only continuing his feast but enjoying it too, feeling and hearing his big, meaty belly churn and groan in happiness with every bite he chewed and swallowed. Amid eating, he looked down at himself while in front of the cloth-covered table, placing both thickened hands upon his gut as he smirked, taking a liking to the new form he already acquired.

     “Not bad.” He spoke to himself. “I could get used to this.”

     It appeared that the puppet fighters had enjoyed watching Rodin stuff himself, for they promptly spoke up in the middle of his self-adoration. 

     “Done eating already?” The reptilian one inquired, suspecting the demon of chickening out of his enormous feast.

     Rodin slowly rotated himself to face the mischievous group towards the set of doors leading out, now much too small to accommodate the blacksmith.

     “Heh… not by a long shot.” He answered while slowly waddling towards them, before getting the idea to receive some helping hands in polishing off the remaining food. “Give me a hand here, why don’t ya? The longer you stand there, the colder my grub’s gonna get.”

     The puppet fighters grew ecstatic by this opportunity, the little critters and the chunky reptilian wasting no time in grabbing every remaining plate of food and bringing it to Rodin. While standing still in the buffet room’s centre, his stance far wider upon the floor, they approached the demon one by one, stuffing him with slices of chocolate and red velvet cake the size of his head and enormous pizza pies, among many kinds of other food and desserts that smelled oh-so delectable. The tinier creatures climbed up his body, miraculously carrying the enormous plates without fail, going even further in their surprising abilities when they managed to feed him with their tiny hands. On the occasion, they stuffed him with slices of cake and fresh apples that they possessed, having a seemingly never-ending supply of both. Despite his girthy figure, the reptilian puppet fighter managed to help as well, bringing stacks of plates containing giant brownies and oversized cupcakes to Rodin, having other lackeys hold them as he personally inserted food into the demon’s mouth. Little by little he ballooned furthermore, dark brown heft taking up more of the buffet room. In spite of it all, Rodin grew to love the sensation of food being crammed inside him, feeling his figure expand tremendously with every bite and grumble of his bottomless stomach.

     By the time the puppet fighters finished having their way with Rodin, he had grown at least several time larger and heavier than the reptilian puppet fighter, the king looking up at his and his lackeys’ handiwork with immense satisfaction and a little bit of fear. The demon easily doubled in size and weight from his several-hundred-pound form acquired just earlier, his rounded, partially sunken-in head sticking up from the top of his colossal form, while both ham-thick arms rested on each of his sagging moobs. Both top and bottom clothing still clung to the blacksmith’s body, the former even tighter around his chest while the latter turned into skimpy booty shorts, showing off even more of his penguin-themed undies as they transformed into a tight thong that snugly hugged the upper half of his exposed derriere. Miraculously, his blubbery body never caved through the floor, although cracks formed underneath where his bloated feet stood against. Such seemingly-imminent destruction never came, even when he let out thunderous belches that shook the castle all over.

     BUAAAAAAAARPP!!!

     “Beautiful!” Rodin pridefully boasted, rubbing his grumbling gut as it continued to digest the many morsels inside it.

     His navel had grown enormously, taking up most of his bean-bag-cushion of a belly’s front, a wide, deepened y-shape engraved across the ample girth he housed up-front. Elsewhere, the demon’s legs merged with his thighs, both now luscious in their immense curvature and thickness, they and the rest of his physique swaying as he felt around himself.

     “This new figure of mine would work wonders in the realm of sumo wrestlin’.” The blacksmith pleasingly remarked, turning himself around to show off his ample ass to the puppet fighters, satisfied in what they helped achieve. “And quite the bubble butt to match.” He added, looking back and down at his expansive rear end that stuck out from him by several feet.

     RRRRRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrr…

     SQUUURRK!!!

     Suddenly, a loud shaking began to course throughout the entire castle, starting from the floor above where Rodin stood. He looked up at the ceiling, waddling back around as he did so, catching a hint of the same rainbow tint he saw earlier leaking right through it. In this observation, he sensed a spirit lurking above, far more powerful than the ones who had helped feed him to upmost content. As though pulling the rug out from under him, that very group of spirits instantly fell into unconsciousness, the bodies they inhabited falling limply onto the insignia-covered floor as Rodin watched with cool-headed surprise. The spirits inside them now hovered above these empty vessels, their essences conveyed through whisp-like auras showing their true forms, consisting of the three boos and countless critters resembling the ones who had climbed up Rodin’s body like a vast, squishy mountain. More of the rainbow tint proceeded to leave the puppet fighters that were once possessed, combining and creating a single unified mass that stretched into a long, flowing stream as it then soared through the open doors. For Rodin, the rainbow stream appeared to be his guide to the powerful presence above him, taking note of it alongside the intense rumbling emitting from the same source.

     “Sounds like a real challenge ahead of me.” Rodin thought aloud to himself, beginning to waddle up to the floating spirit auras. “All I gotta do is get to the end of this rainbow. Heh… maybe a pot of gold is waitin’ for me.”

     Now that the spirits were incapacitated, the demon took the opportunity to collect them, grabbing and gaining possession of them as he then approached the set of double-doors he once fit through. Although they had been busted and split open by the once fit and far-smaller Rodin, his demonic strength allowed him to retain mobility, despite the hundreds upon hundreds of pounds deeply encasing his muscles and formerly-firm physique. Without a care in the world, enjoying how his heft swayed and jiggled with every movement, the weapons dealer simply waddled through the entryway. Both wide, rowdy hips of his took out most of the stone walls on each side of him, creating a pair of debris piles that could not stack up to his pillowy figure. Where his swollen feet stepped, they and the weight of his blobby body broke cleanly through the doors’ remains laying on the floor, sending splinters of wood flying everywhere as a giant hole the same size and shape as him formed in what remained of the walls; a ridiculous sight to behold. Such a comical shape in the wall and his emptying of the buffet room’s contents were the primary signs of Rodin’s presence left on this castle floor, as he steadily yet gracefully made his exit from where he put on more weight than he could ever imagine.

     WHOMP-WHUMP!! WHOMP-WHUMP!! WHOMP-WHUMP!!

     With no signs of struggle, Rodin waddled through a far-smaller corridor and up a considerable flight of stairs, cracks forming underneath him wherever he stepped. As the infernal being grew closer to the source of the rumbling – following the rainbow-tinted trail that hovered in the air - he could hear faint sounds of squeaking and hissing, as though someone was blowing up a balloon. Grunts of a similar volume emanated close-by, becoming more apparent once Rodin reached the top of the stairs. Turning to his left and staring out towards it, the blacksmith entered the castle’s throne room: A lengthy space that housed surprising width and height within its sturdy walls. Spanning many feet down from where he now stood, the room boasted a long velvety-red carpet that stretched along the majority of the stone-built floor, starting a few feet from the cracked stairs the demon had entered from and reaching all the way across.

     Rodin could not quite see the whole way down to the room’s other end, for a massive balloon nearly as big as two thirds of the space obstructed his view. He floated just above the blacksmith, practically rubbing against the distant ceiling that he promptly looked up at. Upon closer inspection, the overweight demon discovered more to the giant blimp, his eyes finding themselves glued to the many oddly-shaped parts that he possessed, vaguely resembling a living being. Only seconds later did he clearly see what stared right back at him from above. The source of not only the reverberating rumbling but also the squeaking, hissing, and groaning that shook the castle to its core, a puppet fighter resembling a human man had been inflated into a giant balloon, squirming and idly grazing the ceiling many feet above Rodin, far bigger than him.

     Despite his air-filled nature, the balloon was shaped anything but simply spherical. He had taken on a bizarre shape, largely rotund – courtesy of an enormous gut that aimed down at Rodin from his floating stance - yet with most of his body parts inflated to bizarrely-large proportions. From behind, two spherical protrusions next to one another evidently formed his derriere, bouncing and squeaking against one another as they lightly pressed into the ceiling. Both bubbly mounds were close to being the same size as the blimp of a belly hanging out from the balloon’s other side. Extending from his butt and reaching around much of his sides, inflated thighs and legs with useless spheres representing feet at their ends stood still, immobile with no hope of being moved. Contrasting the latter, much smaller yet equally useless arms idly stuck out from their points of origin, resting between the two giant moobs in front of them that the inflated figure boasted, and his undeniably bodacious booty that reached a few feet higher from behind. Far smaller than any of these bodily spheres and immobile limbs, the puppet fighter’s head partially sunk into his own body, no longer having a neck as his cheeks bloated profusely. A head of brown combed-back hair sat atop his head, accompanied by a grizzled goatee and a prominent line of facial hair going from rounded cheek to rounded cheek. This humongous human balloon’s clothes managed to stretch and warp with his body - only showing the apricot complexion of his face – the rest of him obscured by a skin-tight outfit largely comprised of light grey with navy blue where his chest, head divot, elbows, and hands and feet were. By all means did this strained attire appear to be specially-made and meant for covert stealth.

     The same rainbow tint that led Rodin into the throne room exuded from this puppet fighter’s body, as wherever he hovered, the surrounding area closest to him warped and distorted, like a painting melting from a flame. Galeem and Dharkon’s influence had filled the puppet fighter alongside the air that had no visible source. To say that he felt beyond taut would be an understatement as vast as the orb-shaped body with a far-bigger bottom half he possessed.

     “Hnng! Hrk! …ngh…” The inflated puppet fighter weakly grunted, trying to handle the intense yet hollow pressure inside him, his gloved hands and obscured feet flailing in their immovable places.

     Rodin continued staring up at this living balloon, amused at the bizarre sight that appeared to be the source of the spirits inhabiting the castle.

     “What kind of spirit turns someone into a fuckin’ balloon?” He asked himself while eyeing him, trying to wrap his fattened head around how this puppet fighter became too light on his feet. “Whatever it is, it must be a helluva powerful one.”

     Rodin put his right foot forward compared to his left one, both swollen appendages creating cracks upon the stone floor. “You may be all helpless up there, squirmin’ and bouncin’ around, but I gotta grab that spirit inside you… even if that means making you blow.”

     FWWWWSSSCCCCHHHHT!!!

     As though reacting to Rodin’s words, the puppet fighter expanded a few inches all over his giant body, more rainbow sheen emitting from him.

     “Heh, suit it yourself.” Rodin sarcastically told the balloon, before launching himself up towards his air-filled chest, leaving more cracks on the ground and surging into the air many feet above the ground.

     With surprising mobility on account of his hefty body, the weapons dealer began to attack the puppet fighter, zooming around and using his thickened fists to pummel into his chest and orb-shaped middle – the latter a primary target on this immobile opponent. Both meaty hands made contact with the balloon’s rubbery clothing, briefly sinking deep into the depths of his airy form. Rodin hoped to have caused some semblance of damage with the impact he made against the puppet fighter, expecting to have sent him flying backwards and hitting the nearby walls and ceiling. Alas, despite the tremendous power housed within an eternal being such as himself, Rodin’s attacks did nothing to the living balloon, only gently pushing him up and away from the demon as he returned to the throne room’s floor, doing so after several seconds of realizing nothing had occurred. Slowly waddling towards the puppet fighter’s new location further down the room, the blacksmith tried to process what had happened and how to go about in defeating this powerful foe.

     Despite his inability to attack the corpulent demon, the human balloon boasted impregnable defenses, thanks to both the spirit possessing him, and the power that Galeem and Dharkon additionally filled him with. In this very moment, the infernal being knew he had no other choice but to attack with means far stronger than his typical form, even if it appeared to be overkill on an immobile balloon retaining some of its human traits.

     “Didn’t think I’d have to do this, but what choice do I got?” Rodin mused aloud, a smirk curving across his chubby cheeks as he ascended into the air again.

     Raising himself up to eye-level with the puppet fighter’s hollow belly, a red and black aura resembling lightning obscured Rodin, hiding his appearance for merely an instant. Within this miniscule duration, his entire body morphed into his true form: A demonic being bearing human and animalistic physicality entwined. Pitch black inhuman skin – almost synthetic in appearance - enveloped Rodin’s body, red line markings embedded all over it, running down his chest and atop his stomach, wrapping around his arms and legs. Long black wings with red markings on their undersides sprouted from his back, sporting pointed ends on each one’s top and bottom. Where boot-covered feet once were, the weapons dealer now stood on black scaly talons with sharp red claws at their ends, which his hands oppositely lacked. Two large and pointed protrusions emerged on both sides of his neck, like oversized ends of a cape fixated to his infernal flesh. In-between them, his head took on a much sinister look, boasting pointed ears, gleaming red eyes, and large eyebrows of the same colour.

     In spite of this fierce transformation revealing the true extent of Rodin’s power in tandem with his appearance, a good portion of this fierceness stemmed from the beefy, muscular physique that his demonic form usually possessed. Once he emerged from his envelopment in that red and black thundering aura, however, the blacksmith took note of one heavying factor that still clung to his altered body. To say that Rodin appeared comical and a faraway shell of his formerly-fit self in his demon form would be an understatement as massive as he was. Every single pound that he had put on from the enormous feast carried over to his transformed self, still retaining his sheer inhuman power, albeit deeply encased in a thick, soft, pudgy layer of immense girth.

     “Ngh… I knew this would happen.” Rodin growled at himself, looking down at his quivering belly and sagging moobs, briefly feeling them both with his hands.

     Still hovering no matter how much he weighed, he faced towards the other end of the throne room that he had not yet seen, looking up at the swollen face of the puppet fighter while right in front of his belly.

     “Hey, blimp! How’s about we go out with a bang?” Rodin playfully asked his opponent.

     He proceeded to fly all over the ginormous puppet fighter, pummeling him with his fists in a series of combo-esque attacks. The tubby demon went from his midsection to his chest, warping to his behind and each curved side, delivering an intense number of punches and kicks to every part of him in the hopes of landing a critical blow.

     “NGH! HrkK!! MMph!” The balloon moaned abundantly with every impact made by Rodin, every single one of them muffled from his swollen cheeks as his body moved from one direction to another and back again; never zooming across the room due to how fast Rodin constantly hit him from every one of his sides, keeping him in the room’s centre.

     With every inflicted hit made by the weapons dealer in his true form, the puppet fighter expanded a few inches outward at a time, more rainbow tint spilling out from him. At first, such added expansion seemed miniscule compared to how big he had already become. But in no time, the flurrying moves that Rodin rapidly used caused the balloon to quickly double in size, hastily inflating as though a giant air tank had activated inside it. Rodin took notice of this rapid expansion, returning himself back to that massive belly at the puppet fighter’s front. From here, he pulled his right arm back, balling his bloated hand into a sturdy fist. With his left one positioning itself right in front of his torso, the same red and black thunder began to build up around his clenched fist, charging it up across several seconds as the demon who clearly spent some time indulging in gluttony grunted aloud. He could feel his infernal power course through his blubbery body, rapidly channeling it as electricity runs through a current. At the end of this short span of time, having brought the brunt of this charged power directly into his balled fist, Rodin yelled and let loose a tremendous punch from his right hand, sending it directly into the puppet fighter’s navel as the red and black thunder surrounding it shot directly through him.

     BOOM!!

     Immediately, the giant balloon flew back all the way towards the far end of the room, colliding with a sizeable throne that Rodin had not yet seen before. Just as he laid eyes upon it - the balloon’s impact against the seat appearing as though he barely sat in it - the fruits of his labour finally came to fruition.

     BANG!!!

     Loudly echoing throughout the throne room and the castle as a whole, the ballooned puppet fighter popped with thunderous force. No scraps or physical remnants appeared in the aftermath of his defeat, as though vanishing in the instant that he burst. All that remained was the rainbow tint surrounding and inside him, largely dissipating as the aura slightly remained in the room, surrounding the kingly throne at its end. Watching it pop without so much as flinching from the startling sight and sound, Rodin remained in the air for several seconds more. He smirked again at his latest handiwork, relieved that his job here had finally come to an explosive end. Just as quickly as when he changed forms, the demon reverted back to his traditional appearance, albeit still fattened many times past his once-fit figure, clothes barely clinging to him like a bra and a pair of booty shorts. From here, he floated back down to the ground, landing with a loud plop on the cracks he himself caused from waddling and launching himself above.

     “All’s well that ends well.” The lard-swaddled weapons dealer remarked to himself, feeling relieved as he looked ahead to the throne.

     The chair’s arms glowed bright yellow, while their ends were carved out to appear like hands. They boasted black spiky ends upon where the wrists connected to the figurative hands and arms, its sides coloured in a deep dark green. By all means, the throne resembled that of the reptilian puppet fighter who had stuffed Rodin silly. Luxurious purple fabric comprised the sizeable seat, a cushion that appeared to provide comfort to anyone, even the demon and his ginormous behind.

     “Would you look at that. That throne’s fit for a king.” He mused with subdued excitement. “I think I’ve earned myself a bit of rest.”

     Not noticing the rainbow tint’s lessened albeit lingering presence, Rodin waddled his way down the rest of the room, ascending and reaching the end of several steps leading up to the giant throne. After slowly rotating himself around, he planted himself down onto the comfy seat.

     KKRUNCH!!!

     His titanically-sized asscheeks dug into the throne’s comfy material, all while straining groans and creaks emanated from its arms and back, his large mound of belly and thickened back instantly squishing around where he now sat. The demon brought both his arms onto the throne’s, plopping them on each as he leaned back into the seat, letting out a sigh of relief.

     “It feels good to be king.” Rodin happily remarked, grabbing a big, brand-new cigar out of thin air with his right hand, bringing it up to his lips he brought his left hand right in front of it.

     Making use of his demonic capabilities, he gestured a thumbs-up aimed back towards his cigar, using the solely-raised, far thicker digit to conjure a bright purple flame. In no time, this infernal flame lit the cigar, turning its front end a bright orange as Rodin shook his left hand, jostling the adipose hanging from his arm as the flame vanished from sight. No sooner than when he returned his arm back to the throne’s, the oversized, overweight demon took in a strong breath, relishing in the cigar’s pure essence. Once he had gotten enough from this first inhale, Rodin used his right hand to remove the cigar from his mouth, bringing it down from his face as he let out a considerable mass of smoke, his head leaning back from this exhale; a bonafide puff of victory to his new size and accomplishments … or so he thought.

     Unbeknownst to the infernal demon, the remaining rainbow tint that exuded from the ballooned puppet fighter began to be absorbed into Rodin’s greatly plump figure. Within seconds, all of it disappeared directly into him, even going so far as to exude from his own body, as strange noises formed and echoed inside him.

     HIISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS…

     FWSSSCHHT!!!

     FWSSSCHHT!!!

     CRRRRRKK!!

     As Rodin looked up at the ceiling, continuing to smoke his cigar, he failed to notice his belly beginning to swell up. Unlike before when he was being gargantuanly fattened up, the large doughy mound representing his middle took on a more spherical shape, losing its weighty physical attributes as though his new fat vanished from inside him, turning into nothing but immense quantities of air. Similar changes subsequently commenced all over his body, between his arms and legs, both curvy hips and thighs, that pillowy chest obscuring much of his view from where he sat, and those big buttcheeks that he gladly sat upon. Every inch of growing space inside the demon felt emptier, culminating into a weightless sensation that began to interfere with his seated stance upon the ground. Slowly, both he and the tight throne he sat upon began to rise into the air. The demon did not realize his bloated feet no longer touched the floor, as his view of the ceiling appeared to be the same as before inflating and becoming lighter. Steadily, however, he took notice of a few oddities with himself and his surroundings. Above him, the ceiling drew closer, while all around him, the throne had grown significantly tighter.

     Upon realizing the closing gap between his sightline and the roof, Rodin brought his head away from it while moving his feet, realizing that both lower appendages rested upon nothing, soon wiggling them around in the confusion that set itself free inside the blacksmith’s head.

     “Wha- what the?” Rodin uttered in confused bewilderment, looking down around him as best he could, the space between him and the floor growing increasingly distant while he himself puffed up just as massively.

     With a powerful surge of internal air, Rodin’s asscheeks burst through the back-end of the throne, outgrowing and causing it to break apart, detaching from its snug relationship with the rest of his ballooning body. Gravity quickly did the deed as the chair fell all the way back to the ground. Upon making impact many feet below, the entire furniture smashed into many indiscernible pieces, causing Rodin to glance down at the destruction he unintentionally wrought, realizing that he now purely floated in the air on his own merit, no longer held in place by anything such as the now-broken throne, nor able to move his stiffening figure.

     “Let’s hope that king wasn’t too attached to his throne.” He commented with hopeful certainty, his body steadily turning upside down as he rose higher into the air.

     From this realization, in addition to his swelling form and rainbow tint surrounding him, Rodin quickly put the pieces together as to what was now happening to him.

     “That damn puppet fighter’s sprit magic must have worked its way into me.” The demon spoke in part-grumble, part acceptance.

     In this instant, Rodin knew what would thus become of his body, feeling bigger puffs of air internally inflate him immediately after the throne’s untimely fall. Every single heavying pound that acted as his anchor to the ground disappeared, his fattened body remaining intact as air invaded the vast space inside it. With no one else around and able to stumble upon his transformation into a living balloon, Rodin shrugged as much as his rounded shoulders allowed him to, embracing his conversion into a hollow, air-filled being whose rear end already rubbed and bounced against the ceiling. The weapons dealer’s many folds and mounds profusely rounded out, merging with one another alongside all his defining body parts to form a unified shape of bubble-shaped spheres, boasting thickened limbs that had immensely blown up alongside his belly and derriere; to the point where he could no longer move them. The larger he got, the more he found himself slowly rotating, allowing his stiff, sunken-in head to briefly see the royal chair’s remains before fully completing his airy form’s aerial rotation.

     By the time he fully inflated with nothing but air, Rodin not only resembled the puppet fighter in shape – his belly and butt almost like three planets closely orbiting one another across his body – but had outgrown him considerably, occupying a good portion more of the throne room, reminiscent of a giant parade float. The giant demon, whose clothes continued to cling to his balloon of a body as they did before, fell into a spell of bliss, letting the weightless sensation wash all over him. His eyes looked out and across the throne room as he casually rotated, rubbery squeaking emanating from his hide with every bout of established contact against the space’s shrunken confines.

     “Unbelievable… this is a better break than any chair or cigar.” Rodin uttered in awe, softly moaning in delight over his new floating form.

     The blimp of a demon remained in his loving stance for moments more, his belly currently brushing against the throne room’s roof as his butt grazed the stone flooring and velvety carpet. A part of him wanted to stay in here for the rest of eternity, adoring every sensation of touch that rippled across his stretched form, hearing himself hiss and creak while seeing his puffy cheeks and chest, rounded shoulders, immovable arms, and spherical belly. But after a passage of time that he did not keep track of, the blacksmith knew he had to get a move-on, even when he could not move as easily as before.

     “Fuck… I gotta get back to The Gates of Hell.” Rodin admitted, trying to determine how to leave of the castle he found himself trapped in.

     It took the demon a good number of seconds to think of how to move around, soon concentrating on his inner core in a hasty attempt at achieving mobility. Mustering his inhuman strength despite his body’s weightlessness and immobility, Rodin assumed his demon form once again, beginning to maneuver away from the ceiling, his hands and feet flailing whilst gliding over to where the throne once sat.

     “As if I already didn’t look silly with hundreds of pounds.” He remarked about his demon form being applied to his ballooned body. “This takes the cake without a shred of doubt.”

     Once there – closer to the floor - he spotted remnants of the rainbow tint that surrounded the puppet fighter and himself. In the middle of this floating aura, a new spirit hovered in plain sight: A yellow balloon with a giant white P plastered atop it. Bringing his unmovable limbs towards it, Rodin barely used his left hand to obtain the whisp-like aura. With the root of this spirit-infested castle now defeated and secured, Rodin let himself hover back towards the ceiling, this time with tremendous force. He let out a powerful groan as he quickly ascended through the limited vertical space of the throne room, using his humongous air-tight belly to burst through the roof, its many broken remnants of stone raining down into the now-exposed room. With his path for takeoff now cleared, Rodin proceeded to float out of the castle, ascending high into the dark blue sky as he continued to adore the taut yet weightless sensation coursing throughout him.

     “I should turn these spirits into the same kind of accessories I sell to Bayonetta.” Rodin mused, referring to the reptilian king and human balloon that affected his body one after the other. “Whenever the right mood strikes, I can turn myself large and in charge… hehehe.”

     After reaching close to the clouds far above all else, Rodin conjured up the portal to transport him back to The Gates of Hell. This time, however, he had to alter the red runic-filled gateway to accommodate his colossal size, soon entering it after fully forming in the air above him. At first, he managed to float into it with no problem… that was, until he felt his orb-shaped pair of asscheeks become wedged between its sides.

     “Guess I’ve got too much junk in the trunk.” Rodin teased, squeaking and creaking sounding off around and below his sunken-in head.

     Using his innate strength and willpower, the demon managed to push the rest of his blimped self through the portal, disappearing from the sky and exiting the world in which he found himself turned into a glutton and a balloon.

     Inside the Gates of Hell – a seedy, cavernous bar existing outside of time and space - an enormous red portal formed right below its stalactite-covered ceiling, far distant from the smooth stone flooring contrasting it from below. Ever-so slowly, akin to a blimp making its landing, Rodin emerged from it, descending into the bar as his massive form took up nearly all its space. Immediately, the threat of popping dawned upon the demon, not worrying about himself but rather losing his inflated form before he could touch the ground below. All around him, squeaks and creaks emanated from his stretched hide brushing against the stalactites, ranging from enormous to miniscule in size. They covered a good portion of the bar, hanging above on the ceiling and growing from the floor itself. On each side of the bar, copious space presented itself, the entire architecture of this underground-like locale reminiscent of Inferno itself, its walls and furniture comprised of materials and designs unlike anything on Earth. Rodin could faintly feel glasses and objects falling over from his rotund body, unable to do anything about the damage he caused to his very business. Before long, the weapons dealer fully entered the bar, the portal above him disappearing soon after. The furthest end of his belly bumped against the floor, causing him to float back up towards the ceiling. Once again, his ballooned figure was left to the mercy of the sizeable yet dangerous space it found itself in, an otherwise easy space for a smaller, non-inflated individual to navigate being near-impossible for the demonic balloon that loved being as light as a feather and as big as a blimp.

     For a few moments more, Rodin allowed himself to float around the Gates of Hell, loving the comforting sense of being big and untethered, able to freely float wherever he pleased while being conscious of the rock-comprised pillars surrounding him. The knocking-over of the bar’s many tables and chairs, alongside the glasses standing upon them and the lengthy countertop at the back of the place’s centre, sounded like music to the demon’s ears - who already had a sublime taste in such from his angelic record collection. His body bounced and rubbed against the place’s floor and furnishings, allowing juvenile destruction to grace the otherworldly bar. If it meant being able to blissfully exist as a living balloon himself, he would allow this mess to be made on his own accord. After enough time spent floating without a care in the world, Rodin reverted back to his usual form, the attributes of his demonic body disappearing in the blink of an eye. With his standard complexion having returned, he let out a gravelly sigh, knowing that it was time to get back to his usual routine.

     “Alright… that’s enough fun for one night.” Rodin remarked, bracing himself to deflate through a tried-and-true method.

     He concentrated on his body’s core, manipulating the vast amounts of air inside him to start rising from his belly and up his throat, the sunken bodily feature bulging somewhere within the weapon dealer’s head divot before bit by bit, the very thing that filled him tightly and to the brim gradually released into the air.

     BUAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRP!!!

     OOUUUUAAAAARPP!!

     BWUP!!

     BWWWAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRP!!!

     Like a symphony more graceful than the angelic pieces he had heard for himself, Rodin let out a series of long, gaseous belches, gradually ridding him of the air that blew him up incredulously so. With every hearty release of internal air, the demon shrank down in size, the hollowness of his body slowly receding as the heaviness of his fattened form came back into prominence. The utterly-rounded shape of his belly and buttcheeks returned to girthy mounds bearing sheer jiggling adipose, while his chest sagged back down and his arms and legs became movable; albeit heavy in their own right. His heavenly ascent in the air proceeded to cease, finding himself lowering towards the stone floor with every belch emitted. After too many of the gaseous happenings to keep count of, Rodin’s fattened feet firmly planted themselves upon the room’s centre. While he had emptied himself of the immense air that turned him into a giant balloon, Rodin’s body-fat filled him right back up. The hundreds upon hundreds of pounds that he put on from eating and being fed in the castle’s buffet room provided him with a sturdy anchor to the bar’s floor as it all returned to his figure.

     Slowly thereafter, Rodin moved about with a few wide waddles, getting used to his billowing weight once again. Each slam against the floor shook the entire bar, his body forming zig-zagging cracks under where he stood, jiggling from the series of impacts reverberating from his very movements. As he faced towards his signature bar – a curved black countertop stretching across many feet with wide shelves of fanciful liquor behind it – Rodin took the time to admire his newly-plump figure, now that he had returned to the Gates of Hell with every eaten morsel of food inside him fully digested. The infernal being placed his thicker hands upon the centre of his belly, rubbing and squishing the girthy mound and the area surrounding his deep bellybutton. He played around with it for a considerable moment, feeling every plop, jiggle, and gurgle made with his self-examination, a pleasing smirk growing across his chubby cheeks. Both hands promptly traveled down and out to his wide hips, caressing the swaying heft hanging out from him. The unbelievable durability of his pants turned booty-shorts, much like his shirt that stayed fastened around his pillowy chest, continued to impress Rodin, feeling both strained fabric and bare fat with his chunky digits.

     “I think I’ll enjoy being a bigger man for awhile longer.” He told himself, lightly slapping both hips with each of his respective hands, causing his sides to ripple about, these adipose waves reaching the vast expanse of his heavy gut and chest.

     GUUUUOOOORRRRGLLL-GRNNNNNN…

     Interrupting his pleasurable train of thought and self-examination, Rodin’s sagging gut growled fiercely, already hungering for much more grub after digesting what he consumed back at the castle. The demon returned his hands to his middle, placing his spread-out digits across the rumbling core of his being.

     “Hehehe… sounds like I could go for another feast about now.” He amusedly spoke, rubbing the centre of his stomach with his hands.

     Deciding on this course of action to stuff himself with as many courses as possible, Rodin waddled his way over towards his roomy bar, more cracks forming underneath wherever he went. Slowly, he made his way behind the lengthy countertop, underneath a bright purple neon sign hanging numerous feet above on the wall that appeared to have been ripped straight from Inferno. It depicted a demonic figure holding a gun in each hand. The image was surrounded by a pair of circles appearing as though they were a ring, while “The Gates of Hell” was spelt out in alluring cursive below. Behind the bar sat a pair of doors leading to a hidden backroom stocked full of food, where Rodin’s titanic figure waddled up to. With nothing but hunger and self-love on his mind, the demon paid no mind to his surroundings, briefly getting stuck inside the doorway he once fit through with ease. Not wanting to put up with waiting any longer to satiate his hunger, he forced his way in, plowing through the entire frame as it and the surrounding chunks of hellish wall fell into piles of debris in one swift motion. With this final barrier down, albeit at the cost of more destruction made to his bar, Rodin waddled his way into the backroom, ready to add as many more pounds to his endless stomach as it desired.