DC : Crisis of infinite hunger : Chapter 9

Chapter 9 : The weight of leadership

The fluorescent lights of Titans Tower cast a steady glow as Donna Troy, Starfire, and Raven gathered in the common room. A wall monitor displayed recent mission updates and intel feeds, but the three women weren’t focused on that just yet. Instead, their attention was fixed on Roy and Garth’s upcoming return from an overseas mission, and the next tasks the Titans would need to address.

"Roy and Garth should be back any day now," Donna said, arms crossed as she studied the monitor. "Once they’re here, we’ll have a full team again. But where are Dick and Wally? They’ve been completely MIA. This isn’t like them."

Starfire, hovering just off the ground with her usual grace, frowned slightly. "Richard and Wally… I have not seen them much lately. It is strange—they are usually so diligent."

Raven’s hooded figure stood by the window, her gaze directed toward the skyline. “Maybe they’re taking a break,” she said dryly, though her expression showed a hint of doubt. “But Dick is supposed to be the leader. Hard to lead when he’s nowhere to be found.”

Donna’s brow furrowed in frustration. “This is ridiculous. They can’t just disappear when we have work to do. We need Dick’s direction on these upcoming missions. I don’t know what’s gotten into them.”

Just then, the elevator doors opened with a soft chime, and Donna turned, her frustration ready to be directed at her absent teammates—only to find herself momentarily speechless.

Out stepped Wally West, stuffing a half-eaten donut into his mouth, followed closely by Nightwing, who was working on a slice of pizza, his cheeks full as he took another bite. They were… different. Very different. Donna blinked, trying to make sense of what she was seeing.

Wally’s once lean frame had expanded dramatically, his red suit stretched tight across his belly, which now hung heavily over his waistband. His thighs were thick, the fabric of his costume visibly straining with each step, and his face was rounder, his jawline softened with a layer of fat that hadn’t been there before. In his hands, he clutched several bags filled with various fast-food items, as if he hadn’t had enough with the donut he was devouring.

And Dick, her once-athletic, acrobatic partner—had undergone an even more startling transformation. His black and blue suit barely contained his bulk, which was distributed heavily across his middle and thighs. His stomach was round and prominent, pressing insistently against his suit, while his hips and backside had filled out to a surprising degree, giving him an almost pear-like shape. His face, usually sharp and defined, now held a softer look, his cheeks rounder, making him almost unrecognizable.

“Ladies,” Wally greeted, his tone casual as he sauntered past them with an armful of junk food. He didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed by his transformation, his grin wide as he offered them a mock salute.

Nightwing followed suit, muttering a muffled, “Hey, guys,” through a mouthful of pizza, barely even looking up as he strolled into the room. His ass and thighs jiggled with each step, and he seemed completely oblivious to the stunned looks on his teammates' faces.

Donna was the first to break the silence. "Dick… what the hell happened to you two?"

Nightwing paused mid-bite, glancing down at himself as if only now realizing the extent of his condition. He let out a small, awkward chuckle, trying to brush it off. “Oh, you know… things have been… busy.”

“Busy eating, clearly,” Raven muttered, crossing her arms. Her deadpan expression barely shifted as she gave him a once-over.

Starfire floated closer, her eyes wide as she took in Nightwing’s softened form. “Richard… you appear… softer,” she observed, a slight note of confusion in her voice. Her gaze drifted down, lingering on the way his suit struggled to contain the generous curve of his backside. “And your… rear has become quite large.”

Raven’s lips twitched into a faint smirk. “ I think we noticed Star,” she said dryly.

Donna shook her head, snapping out of her shock as she refocused on the mission. "Dick, seriously. We’ve got missions piling up, and we need you to lead. You’re the head of this team, not… whatever this is.”

Wally shrugged, plopping down on one of the couches as he took a seat with a dramatic sigh. The couch creaked under his weight, and he grinned, patting his belly as he settled in. “Relax, Donna. It’s not the end of the world. Besides, maybe you should try some of this yourself—it’s good stuff.” He reached into a bag and started munching on a handful of fries, entirely unbothered by her concerns.

Nightwing took a seat next to Wally, his bulk settling into the couch with a slight bounce. His stomach pressed outward as he leaned back, one hand holding a box of donuts while the other held a partially finished slice of pizza. “Donna, we’re fine,” he said, waving off her concerns. “Just taking a… little break.”

Donna’s eyes narrowed, her jaw set with determination. “Dick, enough with the excuses. You’re coming with me, and we’re going to get you back on track. We can’t keep doing this without a proper leader.”

Nightwing sighed, the weight of responsibility seemingly pressing down on him. “Fine,” he muttered, “Fine, I’ll… I’ll get up.” He shifted in his seat, then paused, looking slightly embarrassed. “Uh… could you give me a hand? I’m… kinda stuck here.”

Donna raised an eyebrow but stepped forward, gripping his arm and giving it a firm tug. As she pulled him up, his entire body seemed to jiggle in response, his stomach wobbling and his enlarged backside quivering as he found his footing. The sheer heft of him took her by surprise; even with her Amazonian strength, it was clear that Nightwing had put on an impressive amount of weight.

“There,” she said, slightly out of breath. “Now, about the mission—” But as she spoke, she caught a whiff of the food Wally was holding, and a strange pang of hunger hit her. She blinked, feeling an odd craving. “Wally, do you mind if I… have one of those?”

Wally raised an eyebrow, grinning as he held out the bag. “Go for it. They’re good, right?”

Donna hesitated only a second before reaching in and grabbing a donut. She took a bite, the sugary taste satisfying some unspoken need, and before she knew it, she was reaching for another.

Raven watched with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. “Donna… what are you doing? You were just telling them to get it together.”

“It’s fine,” Donna replied, waving her off as she bit into a second donut. “I just haven’t eaten all day.”

Starfire floated a little closer, her brows furrowed in confusion. “But… what about the mission, Donna? We were going to discuss the details.”

Donna glanced back at her, finishing off the donut as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “The mission can wait until Roy and Garth get back,” she said, her earlier determination melting away as her gaze lingered on the spread of food Wally had brought.

Nightwing let out a relieved sigh, sinking back into his seat as he picked up a donut himself. “So… does this mean I can finish these?” he asked, giving Donna a hopeful look as he held up a box of donuts.

Donna nodded absentmindedly, already reaching for a bag of chips Wally had left on the table. “Yeah… go ahead. No rush, right?”

Wally chuckled, watching her with a satisfied grin. “That’s the spirit, Donna!”

Raven sighed, her eyes narrowing as she watched her teammates succumb one by one to their newfound appetites. “This is ridiculous,” she muttered, exasperated.

Starfire, still looking bewildered, watched as Donna reached for another donut. “But… what of our responsibilities?” she asked, torn between her loyalty to the team and her concern for her friends.

Nightwing merely shrugged, popping another piece of pizza into his mouth. “Responsibilities can wait,” he said, muffled through a mouthful of cheese and crust.

With a reluctant nod, Donna stood up, gesturing for Wally and Nightwing to follow. “Alright then. Since we’re all here, let’s get something real to eat. Big Belly Burger?”

Nightwing’s face lit up, a spark of his old energy returning as he got to his feet. “Now you’re talking, Donna.”

As they left the tower, headed for yet another indulgent meal, the thought of missions, responsibilities, and leadership drifted further and further from their minds, buried beneath layers of newfound cravings and unquenchable appetites. And as they walked out together, Donna couldn’t shake the odd satisfaction filling her with each bite, wondering why she’d ever been so insistent on taking charge in the first place.