Running from Corpulence: CHAPTER I
With Mazaku in healing. Vorax sees an opportunity to suggest a few new but familiar foods to Mazaku's plate while he rests. Who knows, maybe Maz needs a few extra pounds to help his healing process~
PROLOGUE <---> CHAPTER II
---
Story:
Mazaku ©, Vorax © & Artwork:
Cameo:
Komi ©:
Tzin ©:
---
JUNE (Month 1):
“…There you go Maz, nice and easy,” Vorax said as he held open the door for his little brother. Maz grunted as he slowly swung his way through the open door on a set of crutches. He winced as the crutches dug into his armpits and he wobbled slightly as he anchored his weight on his left foot; he was still getting used to this awkward mobility arrangement. Once through the door, Vorax guided Maz toward the couch, a slow process at the end of which Maz simple plopped down with a huff, letting the crutches drop to the floor with a clatter. The dragon’s chest heaved as he grimaced; that hurt.
“Now,” Vorax continued as the cream colored dragon grabbed one of the pillows along the edge of the couch and set it down in the middle before gingerly hoisting up Maz’s right leg and placing it on the elevated cushion. Maz let out a soft grunt and clenched his fist as his casted leg settled on the pillow. “You heard the doc, you need rest rest rest!”
“I know,” Maz said, squirming as he got comfortable leaning against the arm of the couch; this was going to become a familiar arrangement for a while so he might as well settle in. He slid his body ever so slightly up and down as he tried to keep the white horns jutting out of the back of his head and jaw from digging into the couch and ruining the upholstery as was common among draconian households; Vorax had just bought this couch earlier that year and they were trying to make it last. As he adjusted, part of Maz still couldn’t believe what had happened, how he had missed that crack in the sidewalk and how now his busted ankle was encased in a blue, medicinal shell.
“And by rest you know that means not getting up and moving about. I know you can get antsy, but anything you need, just let me know and I’ll get it for you! Are you hungry?” Vorax held up his arm, showing off one of the three large brown bags. The other two he had left on the counter. Each had a minimalist logo of two burger buns hovering over a stripe of red with the letters B&F scrolled in large stylistic font, indicating that the warm, greasy smell permeating in the living room air not so surprising.
“No I’m good still,” Maz said. His brother had asked him the same question three times already since leaving the hospital: once while getting into the car, once while pulling into the drive-thru line, and once as they drove the remaining blocks home as the older dragon munched on a cheeseburger. Maz could still see the remnants of cheese and grease along the corners of his brother’s muzzle, a sight that wasn’t uncommon for the older dragon. Vorax, in contrast to his younger brother, was by no means a runner and likely would never be mistaken for one considering the several hundred pounds of flab caked to his frame. A set of chubby cheeks swelled out of the sides of his face, while a set of moobs and a thick gut jutted out the front of his torso. He sported a part of thunderous thighs and a wide rump that often required some extra maneuvering to get through tight doorways and spaces. Even his tail was swollen with lard-incarnate as Maz couldn’t remember a time when it had looked more like his own current slim stabilizing appendage instead of like an engorged sausage stretching against its own casing.
Often times when the two dragon brothers were out in public together, furs were surprised when they found out they were brothers, considering Vorax’s bulbous frame and outgoing nature and Maz’s lither physique and more reserved personality. Maz remembered a time when had looked more like his brother, sporting the extra poundage that often went along with nerdier personality types like his own that often showed up in movies and televisions shows. He once had that chubby gut that had had once been his hatchling fat that had lingered and a set of bulbous appendages that blanketed him in a layer indicative of his early years reading books, comics, and playing video games in place of running around outdoors with his peers.
Several years ago though, Maz had grown sick of the social pressures and stigma that came with his weight, perpetual social bullying that his brother seemed to handle well somehow. While his older brother continued to gorge and indulge in all of his favorite junk food, Maz had changed his diet and started exercising, letting him drop the weight and become a high school track athlete.
“You sure you don’t want any?” Vorax pressured as he pushed one of the bags up close to Maz’s face. Maz could see soft whiffs of steam rising up through the cracks in the paper bag while grease stains had already begun to form along the bottom. There was a voice in the back of his mind, one that had been ever so vocal back during his pudgier days, that called to him to grab the back and eat. Maz felt his heart flutter for a second before he regained control of his urge. He knew that now that he was injured he was going to need to watch his eating habits; he couldn’t let them get too lax.
Without his usual running workouts, any extra calorie was going to go right back to his thighs, even if that had seemingly long since been true. The thought was more intellectualized than instinctive, the response he knew he was supposed to have, but not necessarily one that had deep seeded roots in his psyche. Part of him knew that one burger wouldn’t amount to much, but he was still hesitant. He needed to avoid temptation like burgers and fries as much as possible so that he could stay in the best possible shape while he recovered. That way, he could jump right back into his running regimen when he had recovered.
“No, really, I’m good,” Maz said, feeling his cheeks grow a little hot as Vorax pressed the fast food bag closer to his face.
“You need to make sure you eat,” Vorax said. “Doctor’s orders. You need the energy to recover!”
“I’m just not super hungry right now,” Maz said despite the fact that a new hole was forming in his belly; that greasy smell was calling to him.
“Alright,” Vorax said skeptically after an extended moment. “But the second that you feel even a slight rumble in your stomach you let me know and I’ll grab you something to eat so you don’t have to move a finger!”
“Will do,” Maz said nervously, not used to lying to his older brother. He did, however, note a strange juxtaposition of Vorax’s words as the room had a series of half-eaten bags of potato chips, pizza boxes, soda bottles, and bags of cookies; there was plenty of food within reach of Maz without the dragon having to so much as fully extend his arm. This was Vorax’s domain, where the obese dragon spent much of his time snacking and watching TV. A clump of candy wrappers fell to the floor as Vorax plopped down on another cough adjacent to Maz, bouncing the pillow beneath Maz’s cast ever so slightly.
Vorax grabbed a bowl of potato chips from the table and set it on the floor alongside the couch before clearing off more space on the coffee table for his fast food bags. He opened the first and pulled out a large, triple-decker burger before reaching for the remote. Maz tried to ignore the loud chewing sounds coming from his older brother and instead focus on the last few minutes of a game show that was now blaring on the television before him. Though he wasn’t a huge fan Food Factor, finding the host Chad Denson kind of obnoxious, but he knew that Vorax loved the program so Maz figured he might as well get used to seeing the strange antics of the show; watching this and a myriad of other strange shows was going to be much of his life for the next few months as his ankle healed.
Maz groaned as Vorax grabbed the remote and flicked through the channels, settling on a BachelFur episode. Though Maz wasn’t initially engaged, after Vorax meticulously described the context to the drama that was ensuing on screen, the dragon found himself being drawn with his brother, taking pleasure more in the fun arguments over who deserved to get a rose from Carla and who blew the beach date night. It wasn’t long before Maz’s hand began to reach down into the bowl of chips and popping a few into his mouth as he stared at the television, seemingly unaware. Vorax noticed.
The older dragon smirked as he saw his little brother begin to snack. Putting the bowl within arm’s reach was intentional, as was making sure the chips were BBQ flavored; one of Maz’s old favorites. Vorax had long since grown weary of his little brother’s obsession with healthy foods, running, and his slender frame. Vorax had been telling himself for years that his brother was far too thin and frail for his own good and in a weird way with this injury, he had been justified in that belief. Now, instead of gloating, was his chance to help fix the issue and he wasn’t going to let this opportunity go to waste.
Vorax remembered when Maz wasn’t the thin, health-conscious runner that he was. He knew that that heftier dragon was buried deep within his brother’s psyche. Vorax was just going to have to pull that dragon out into the open again. It was going to be a process, that Vorax knew, but it was a project that he had long since fantasized taking on. With his brother stuck with him for the next few months, the older dragon was ready to push his lethargic, gluttonous agenda and though the younger dragon munching on a few chips wasn’t truly indicative of anything yet, Vorax knew it was just the start.
Don’t worry little bro, Vorax thought, I’ll help you pack some meat on your bones… again…
PROLOGUE <---> CHAPTER II
---
Story:
Mazaku ©, Vorax © & Artwork:
Cameo:
Komi ©:
Tzin ©:
---
JUNE (Month 1):
“…There you go Maz, nice and easy,” Vorax said as he held open the door for his little brother. Maz grunted as he slowly swung his way through the open door on a set of crutches. He winced as the crutches dug into his armpits and he wobbled slightly as he anchored his weight on his left foot; he was still getting used to this awkward mobility arrangement. Once through the door, Vorax guided Maz toward the couch, a slow process at the end of which Maz simple plopped down with a huff, letting the crutches drop to the floor with a clatter. The dragon’s chest heaved as he grimaced; that hurt.
“Now,” Vorax continued as the cream colored dragon grabbed one of the pillows along the edge of the couch and set it down in the middle before gingerly hoisting up Maz’s right leg and placing it on the elevated cushion. Maz let out a soft grunt and clenched his fist as his casted leg settled on the pillow. “You heard the doc, you need rest rest rest!”
“I know,” Maz said, squirming as he got comfortable leaning against the arm of the couch; this was going to become a familiar arrangement for a while so he might as well settle in. He slid his body ever so slightly up and down as he tried to keep the white horns jutting out of the back of his head and jaw from digging into the couch and ruining the upholstery as was common among draconian households; Vorax had just bought this couch earlier that year and they were trying to make it last. As he adjusted, part of Maz still couldn’t believe what had happened, how he had missed that crack in the sidewalk and how now his busted ankle was encased in a blue, medicinal shell.
“And by rest you know that means not getting up and moving about. I know you can get antsy, but anything you need, just let me know and I’ll get it for you! Are you hungry?” Vorax held up his arm, showing off one of the three large brown bags. The other two he had left on the counter. Each had a minimalist logo of two burger buns hovering over a stripe of red with the letters B&F scrolled in large stylistic font, indicating that the warm, greasy smell permeating in the living room air not so surprising.
“No I’m good still,” Maz said. His brother had asked him the same question three times already since leaving the hospital: once while getting into the car, once while pulling into the drive-thru line, and once as they drove the remaining blocks home as the older dragon munched on a cheeseburger. Maz could still see the remnants of cheese and grease along the corners of his brother’s muzzle, a sight that wasn’t uncommon for the older dragon. Vorax, in contrast to his younger brother, was by no means a runner and likely would never be mistaken for one considering the several hundred pounds of flab caked to his frame. A set of chubby cheeks swelled out of the sides of his face, while a set of moobs and a thick gut jutted out the front of his torso. He sported a part of thunderous thighs and a wide rump that often required some extra maneuvering to get through tight doorways and spaces. Even his tail was swollen with lard-incarnate as Maz couldn’t remember a time when it had looked more like his own current slim stabilizing appendage instead of like an engorged sausage stretching against its own casing.
Often times when the two dragon brothers were out in public together, furs were surprised when they found out they were brothers, considering Vorax’s bulbous frame and outgoing nature and Maz’s lither physique and more reserved personality. Maz remembered a time when had looked more like his brother, sporting the extra poundage that often went along with nerdier personality types like his own that often showed up in movies and televisions shows. He once had that chubby gut that had had once been his hatchling fat that had lingered and a set of bulbous appendages that blanketed him in a layer indicative of his early years reading books, comics, and playing video games in place of running around outdoors with his peers.
Several years ago though, Maz had grown sick of the social pressures and stigma that came with his weight, perpetual social bullying that his brother seemed to handle well somehow. While his older brother continued to gorge and indulge in all of his favorite junk food, Maz had changed his diet and started exercising, letting him drop the weight and become a high school track athlete.
“You sure you don’t want any?” Vorax pressured as he pushed one of the bags up close to Maz’s face. Maz could see soft whiffs of steam rising up through the cracks in the paper bag while grease stains had already begun to form along the bottom. There was a voice in the back of his mind, one that had been ever so vocal back during his pudgier days, that called to him to grab the back and eat. Maz felt his heart flutter for a second before he regained control of his urge. He knew that now that he was injured he was going to need to watch his eating habits; he couldn’t let them get too lax.
Without his usual running workouts, any extra calorie was going to go right back to his thighs, even if that had seemingly long since been true. The thought was more intellectualized than instinctive, the response he knew he was supposed to have, but not necessarily one that had deep seeded roots in his psyche. Part of him knew that one burger wouldn’t amount to much, but he was still hesitant. He needed to avoid temptation like burgers and fries as much as possible so that he could stay in the best possible shape while he recovered. That way, he could jump right back into his running regimen when he had recovered.
“No, really, I’m good,” Maz said, feeling his cheeks grow a little hot as Vorax pressed the fast food bag closer to his face.
“You need to make sure you eat,” Vorax said. “Doctor’s orders. You need the energy to recover!”
“I’m just not super hungry right now,” Maz said despite the fact that a new hole was forming in his belly; that greasy smell was calling to him.
“Alright,” Vorax said skeptically after an extended moment. “But the second that you feel even a slight rumble in your stomach you let me know and I’ll grab you something to eat so you don’t have to move a finger!”
“Will do,” Maz said nervously, not used to lying to his older brother. He did, however, note a strange juxtaposition of Vorax’s words as the room had a series of half-eaten bags of potato chips, pizza boxes, soda bottles, and bags of cookies; there was plenty of food within reach of Maz without the dragon having to so much as fully extend his arm. This was Vorax’s domain, where the obese dragon spent much of his time snacking and watching TV. A clump of candy wrappers fell to the floor as Vorax plopped down on another cough adjacent to Maz, bouncing the pillow beneath Maz’s cast ever so slightly.
Vorax grabbed a bowl of potato chips from the table and set it on the floor alongside the couch before clearing off more space on the coffee table for his fast food bags. He opened the first and pulled out a large, triple-decker burger before reaching for the remote. Maz tried to ignore the loud chewing sounds coming from his older brother and instead focus on the last few minutes of a game show that was now blaring on the television before him. Though he wasn’t a huge fan Food Factor, finding the host Chad Denson kind of obnoxious, but he knew that Vorax loved the program so Maz figured he might as well get used to seeing the strange antics of the show; watching this and a myriad of other strange shows was going to be much of his life for the next few months as his ankle healed.
Maz groaned as Vorax grabbed the remote and flicked through the channels, settling on a BachelFur episode. Though Maz wasn’t initially engaged, after Vorax meticulously described the context to the drama that was ensuing on screen, the dragon found himself being drawn with his brother, taking pleasure more in the fun arguments over who deserved to get a rose from Carla and who blew the beach date night. It wasn’t long before Maz’s hand began to reach down into the bowl of chips and popping a few into his mouth as he stared at the television, seemingly unaware. Vorax noticed.
The older dragon smirked as he saw his little brother begin to snack. Putting the bowl within arm’s reach was intentional, as was making sure the chips were BBQ flavored; one of Maz’s old favorites. Vorax had long since grown weary of his little brother’s obsession with healthy foods, running, and his slender frame. Vorax had been telling himself for years that his brother was far too thin and frail for his own good and in a weird way with this injury, he had been justified in that belief. Now, instead of gloating, was his chance to help fix the issue and he wasn’t going to let this opportunity go to waste.
Vorax remembered when Maz wasn’t the thin, health-conscious runner that he was. He knew that that heftier dragon was buried deep within his brother’s psyche. Vorax was just going to have to pull that dragon out into the open again. It was going to be a process, that Vorax knew, but it was a project that he had long since fantasized taking on. With his brother stuck with him for the next few months, the older dragon was ready to push his lethargic, gluttonous agenda and though the younger dragon munching on a few chips wasn’t truly indicative of anything yet, Vorax knew it was just the start.
Don’t worry little bro, Vorax thought, I’ll help you pack some meat on your bones… again…
Category Artwork (Digital) / Fat Furs
Species Unspecified / Any
Gender Multiple characters
Size 1280 x 853px
I don't know. But I think puting on weight would just make the pain worse. And how would you be able to stay balanced?
Gosh darn it Mazaku! You kill me with all those small details in your pictures x3 Looking forward for how will this (miss)adventure continues
Mhhhmhhhh, all good things start slow, but seems like someone will remain slow at that rate, hehehehehe~
Oh I really do enjoy this a lot! I'm eagerly awaiting chapter 2, now that I'm hooked fhsdkljfh.
Oh I really do enjoy this a lot! I'm eagerly awaiting chapter 2, now that I'm hooked fhsdkljfh.
I have a feeling that may happen also~
Thank you so much! Means an absolute ton~
Thank you so much! Means an absolute ton~
It is indeed! Although, this may cause a few extra pounds though~
Even though we all know he's going to get fat somewhere along the line, I feel this story is one of those "Journey, not the destination" things.
I just gotta wonder, though. Will most of Maz's weight gain be caused by his brother, or will it be his own doing by sliding into old habits he once gave up?
Can't wait for chapter 2!
I just gotta wonder, though. Will most of Maz's weight gain be caused by his brother, or will it be his own doing by sliding into old habits he once gave up?
Can't wait for chapter 2!
A grin on Vorax’s face is never a good sign Maz is so screwed. But I hope the leg heals alright.
* Slide you a bag of Lays barbecue potato chips * Our little secret buddy
* Slide you a bag of Lays barbecue potato chips * Our little secret buddy
Oh yes, Vorax is definitely onto something...
No more chips! Maz has to stay fit somehow!
No more chips! Maz has to stay fit somehow!
You gotta thank plokishmok3 for the writing there! He is the great guy who does the writing. I am the one who does the art~
And for why I chose brothers, good question. When I originally made sonas, I was still very nervous about coming out as a fat fur even to the community. So to offset that, I created my outside me who was shy, nervous, and well, skinny. Then Vorax who was my inside me, carefree, fun, and loved being fat. Both are closely related to me and that's why I made them brothers. Did that make any sense at all?
And for why I chose brothers, good question. When I originally made sonas, I was still very nervous about coming out as a fat fur even to the community. So to offset that, I created my outside me who was shy, nervous, and well, skinny. Then Vorax who was my inside me, carefree, fun, and loved being fat. Both are closely related to me and that's why I made them brothers. Did that make any sense at all?
Rereading this story from the beginning to end is going to be enjoyable. Love the start of this story already. Not to mention, it's getting me more in the mood to write~ <3
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