#baobhan

A fairy, eating the food that has "eating any of this will make you fat" written on it. And since Fae are bound by their word that's totally how it works-

"This does nothing to diminish my queenly nature."

"Of course not, my queen, but it is... so soft, now."

"Are you kidding? It's great, this is an excuse to get so, so, soooo many new outfits, right Mother~?"

"Wow, they really let skinny people like you in here?"

The woman four times your weight towers over you as she leans in, her bulk pinning you to the wall. Her heavy, heaving belly weighs down against you, smushing you back as she stands there.

Huffing, she does her best to hide her smile, which isn't much at all.

"Jeez, gonna have to fix that~!"

And no, you don't get a choice when she snaps her fingers, and one of her groupies brings her a box of doughnuts.

"Aammmphhh..."

Huffing as she brought her palm to her mouth, Baobhan Sith swallowed down another huge mouthful of chips. She was on her fourth bag of the night, the others piled up around the countertop as she leaned against it, stuffing her face again.

It was well past midnight in Chaldea, and despite the plethora of Servants that lived there, few stayed up so late. In the expansive corridors inside the Storm Border, it left Baobhan with all the privacy she needed to glut herself.

She was a big girl, after all. Her stomach was bulging over the countertop as it wobbled through her dress, a heavy mound of lard that was straining her outfit. Hips that could fill three seats comfortably wobbled against each other as she lightly swayed her butt side to side, enjoying the little motions.

Slapping the side of her stomach, a low belch pushed past her lips. Hiccupping and chuckling, Baobhan leaned in, relishing how the counter creaked as she kept rooting through the pantry, looking for more goodies.

"Hehehe~ Surely Master won't mind if I take all her snacks, since they'll do wonders for my figure, after all~ I bet these will taste better with one of my romance books, though~"

Grabbing a slice of cake from the pantry, turning around, Baobhan-

-froze.

"Ah."

Standing in the doorway, silently observing her, was Morgan. Her adoptive mother was the same as she ever was. Lithe, refined, and imposing, her icy blue eyes burrowed into Baobhan. Suddenly the fairy knight wasn't feeling big and beautiful anymore, but bloated and unseemly. Fruitlessly trying to hide the cake slice behind her back, she felt it messily squish around her fingers, her grip too tight as it smeared icing on her palm.

"Good morning, Baobhan Sith." Her voice was calm, as it ever was. That only made Baobhan sweat more, a bead of it running down her cheek as she felt herself grow more flustered. She'd been stuffing her face for so long that it had officially shifted from late night to early morning.

The grown fairy swallowed heavily, too worried to burp or make any sound in front of her mother. Morgan was a queen in title and a goddess in all the ways that mattered. All Baobhan could do was stand there, keenly aware of the crumbs on her face and dress.

Walking forward, Morgan passed Baobhan as she stepped to the fridge. Opening it, she reached in and pulled out a slice of pie.

"Here." She held it out for Baobhan. "I had heard some of the servants saying that this paired well with most other sweets. If you're going to have that slice of cake, you should have this as well."

Dumbstruck, Baobhan meekly nodded, reaching with her free hand for the pie. Holding it in her grasp. Uncertain of what to say, she just nodded, feeling her double chin wobble from the motion.

"Th-Thank you, Mother."

And turning around, she wobbled as fast as she could out of the small kitchen and into the hall, doing her best not to let her hips brush the doorway on her escape.

Standing there, watching the very large space Baobhan had occupied, Morgan blinked.

When she closed her eyes, for a brief moment she could see a throne room.

She sees Spriggan.

She sees what he has in his hands.

She feels that knife before the one that pierces her back.

Morgan opened her eyes.

"..."

She turns back to the fridge. Her hand opens, and her staff appears. The Berserker, better at magecraft than most Casters, traces her fingers alongside the machine, her power already picking apart at how it worked.

Thinking about Lostbelt 6 again in FGO.

oh noooo

(wink)

Buried, lost, and stuck there.

"..."

Locking eyes with her Archer self.

"You're really pretty for a copycat of me.~"

"Huh, weird, I was going to say the same thing."

She's setting her hands on her wide, wide hips.