November 2025 Sketches

For November, a pair of digital boyos- Fletcher Kane is getting a bit too big for his mob boss britches, but then again, so is Leomon. Enjoy!

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"Boss…?"

The wolf snarled low as he reached, grunting slightly as his desk-mounted intercom was slightly out of reach for him, as he was now. "What? I gave specific instructions— until the delivery's handled, I don't want to be disturbed!"

"I-it's about the delivery, boss! The guy's here, with the stuff. They want to deal with you directly— said they had to take it back unless they saw you."

The mob boss growled. "And you didn't fill him full of lead for that presumptuous demand because?"

"I-I didn't want to get you mad by ruining the stuff!"

Fletcher Kane groaned, reaching to massage his forehead. "It's fine— it's fine. Just… keep him there, and I'll be down in a minute." He turned the intercom off, muttering darkly to himself. "I thought the whole point of being a mob boss is that I didn't have to put up with these putzes anymore…" The wolf rumbled, and then stood up— or at least, he tried to. It took a great deal of inertia to get him up and moving, but Fletcher Kane had a deep well of strength to get him moving— it was only then that he realized that he had taken his throne-like seat with him.

The wolf mob boss had, unfortunately, let a small, growing issue spiral out of control— like any wolf worth the name, Fletcher Kane had an apex predator's appetite, and he had overindulged it to a staggering degree. His enormous body undulated with every movement, his vast, oceanic gut wobbling as he tried to force his chair free from the overgrown globes of his rear end. He huffed mightily as his fine clothes began to rip and tear, the sudden movement too much as they tried to envelope a belly sinking to the floor and thighs twice as round as they were long.

"Gah, dammit!" He snarled, grunting and panting from the effort to force himself free. Throwing up his hands, he began waddling to the door of his office. "I'm too damn big to worry about what little pissant delivery driver thinks of me— but if they forgot my large milkshake this time, I'll take a bite out of him the old fashioned way…"

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Leomon were supposed to be big— they were supposed to be strong. Leomon were supposed to scare away enemies and protect their trainers, allies, and friends. The Leomon that had taken to calling himself Leon accepted both of these rules; and if they were to be followed, then Leon should chase down ways to be bigger and stronger than anyone else— if he found someone bigger and stronger than him, then how big and strong could he be, really? Unfortunately, training could only take him so far, and digital limitations of his form also hobbled his efforts to be bigger and stronger than anyone else— but then, his trainer found the mod scene in the digital world. Together, they had looked around, and Leon had found something he couldn't resist.

"Are you sure you want me to turn this on? My computer thought there was like, two dozen different bugs and viruses on this thing," Leon's trainer warned.

"I can tank it! C'mon, boss! Hit me!" Leon shouted, palming his fist.

The trainer sighed. "Alright, it's your funeral Leon…" Then, he activated the mod.

Leon braced for impact, and felt the electric jolt as his body rippled and winked out of existence, only to come back in less than a second, exploding in size. Rippling waves of muscle unfurled, spreading out as fast as the data could be downloaded. The hulking digimon grew up and out with bulky, rippling brawn, his body becoming a mountainous marvel to behold. His enormous back outclassed all but the largest bulwarks, and his chest surged upward like a clefted mountain, wedging his chin as his neck was buried in his enormous shoulders, coated under his regal mane. His earth-shaking legs, now so densely packed with muscle they were wider around than they were long, made the ground shake with his thunderous footfalls, bursting free of his trousers. Leon let out a deep, bassy laugh as he saw how small his sword now looked in his hand, the metal looking like it would shatter over his flexed mountain of a bicep. His dense muscles were so tightly packed, Leon felt like all but the strongest attacks would merely graze him.

"Heheh…" Leon chuckled low, tensing his mammoth arm, just to watch his swollen muscles leap to attention. "Hey boss, you got an idea for anything to test all this beef? Because I can think about a few ways to test drive this bod…"