Working Out Like a Beast

For July, Beast claimed a roaring win! Now he's trying to boost his popularity in the best way possible. Enjoy, and thanks for your support!

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Beast, the Prince from Snow White, Prince Eric, Prince Phillip, and Prince Charming were sprawled out in a sitting room, designed to look like an ornate castle. The animated world for Disney characters was vast enough for everyone to carve out a corner for themselves and their fans, but despite the palatial space left for the Princes and Heroes, it was almost deserted. As a result, they were all at varying levels of bored and frustrated; their wives, the Disney Princesses, were collectively worth more money than several countries. And despite their own heroics and assorted dashing looks, the Princes had been steadily losing popularity for years. And while they were happy for their wives, who were adored the world over, talked about endlessly, and mobbed by adoring fans, the Princes were often left languishing in their fancy castles, twiddling their thumbs and feeling ignored.

Beast sighed heavily. “I see Aladdin’s not showing again.”

“What, you think he’d miss all this?” Eric said sardonically, lazily gesturing to the quiet room around them. “You know how much he loves our wild get-togethers.”

“Look, let’s not start this again,” Phillip cut in. “What do you guys want to do, hm? We’ve got the whole day.”

“Do you know what Snow’s doing today?” Snow White’s Prince asked flatly. “Starring in one of those ‘Which Princess Are You?’ quizzes and going on tour to talk about the live action-”

“Don’t mention the remakes. Ever. We made a rule about that,” Beast snarled.

“Oh, they’re not all bad,” Charming began, before Beast cut him off.

“You’re just soft on them because they got the Game of Thrones guy to play you!” the hulking animal snapped. “Meanwhile they made me look like a tool!”

“Alright, Beast, you’re in a worse mood than usual. What’s going on now?”

Beast rolled his eyes. “What do you think? Look at us- we had our part in the stories, too- we were all the good guys! But me and Snow’s husband over here don’t even have names.”

“Well, sure you do,” Phillip shrugged. “Adam and Ferdinand.”

“Uh, actually,” Snow White’s Prince wobbled his hand. “Those aren’t actually canon. I always liked Frederick, or Maximillian, myself.”

“Wait, what?” Charming sat up. “You and I have been hanging out since 1950, and you never bothered to correct me that your name’s not actually Ferdinand?”

The now apparently nameless Prince shrugged. “I didn’t want to be rude.”

Beast shook his head. “Look- I’m happy for Belle, really, I am. I love her, but I hardly see her anymore. We used to slay dragons and witches, fight off sieges- and then decades after happily ever after, we all get sidelined, and our wives barely have time to say ‘good morning’ before they’re hustled out the door. If I didn’t have a magic mirror that could show me whatever I wanted, I’d probably have forgotten what my own wife looks like! Don’t any of you get tired of it?”

The other Princes exchanged looks. “Well,” Charming began. “It’s easier for some of us. Aladdin and Hercules have their whole action hero pistache and cheesy animated TV shows that became nostalgic, Simba and the Lion King crew are all kind of a package deal, and Flynn Rider, Naveen, and Kristoff are still relatively new, they’re still fresh.”

Beast scoffed. “Naveen will be here by next week, count on it. There’s no respect for traditional animation anymore.”

“Well, what are you complaining about?” Charming asked pointedly. “You’re still popular online.”

Beast narrowed his eyes, glancing around as the other princes nodded in agreement. “What are you all talking about?” He pointed to himself. “I don’t even get to be human anymore, because all anyone remembers is me as a beast. I’m more marketable, more useful this way. You all sit here looking like fashion models, while I’ve been coughing up hairballs since 1992!”

Snow White’s Prince chuckled. “Oh, come on, don’t be coy. You know who we’re talking about- that group of fans? The reason why Nick Wilde and Simba still get the limelight?”

Beast stared cluelessly at the others.

“Dear God,” Charming muttered. “I don’t think he knows.”

“What? What don’t I know?” Beast demanded.

Phillip sighed heavily as he patted the Beast’s broad shoulder. “Do you remember last month, when Robin Hood visited? And he said he was getting a little… put off by some of his fans? The ones with all the fan art?”

Beast slowly nodded.

“Those same fans also really like you.”

“But why?” Best gestured to his shaggy fur and bestial face. “I- I’ve got the horns of a goat and the face of a buffalo, there’s… not a lot here to really work with.”

“It worked for Belle, didn’t it?”

“Well- yes,” Beast said, feeling flustered as he rubbed the back of his head. “But she- she fell in love with my personality.”

The Princes all exchanged knowing looks. “Eric, would you do the honors?”

Eric strode over to a desk, gesturing for Beast to follow. Pulling up a few fan sites, Eric then began sifting through fan forums, moving on to social media and other, particular sites that seemed quite taken with Zootopia, Lion King, and others. Then Beast saw the art of himself.

Beast’s jaw dropped. “Oh, that- no! Is that me and Gaston?”

“It’s a pretty popular pairing, all told,” Eric muttered.

“He tried to kill me in a jealous rage! I wouldn’t let him touch me before I ripped his arm off, nevermind...” the animalistic prince narrowed his eyes as he looked at the picture again. “Whatever that is. How would we even be able to get into that position…?”

Eric burst out laughing, gently waving off the Beast’s furrowed brow and angry snarl. “I’m sorry, it’s just so cute that you think that matters to these people.”

“I can’t believe this… why me?” Beast asked.

“It takes all kinds, you know?” Prince Charming shrugged. “The specifics of images like that aside, they’re mostly harmless. I wouldn’t lose sleep over it, big guy.”

The hulking mass of fur narrowed his eyes. “I… need some time to cool down.”

After Beast’s initial shock wore off, the rest of the Princes began drifting off, trying to find something to amuse themselves. In his own personal chambers, however, Beast found himself drawn to the worryingly large collection of fan art. He felt like he needed to solve a mystery- why did all these people online find him so attractive? Did he really have a fanbase he just wasn’t even aware of? He spent most of the night poring over forums and art sites, and in the morning, left to find someone a bit more devious, that might be able to help him make sense of it all.

Beast grimaced, gritting his teeth as he pushed into the Villain’s territory. He groaned; even the Villains had it better than the Princes. True, their headquarters looked like a fourteen year old’s interpretation of dark and gothic, but it was also swarming with fans. He deftly dodged a crowd pining over Maleficent, and made doubly certain he wouldn’t stumble across Gaston. Soon he found who he was looking for- a lean but imposing lion, sprawled on a stone perch and gnawing on a zebra leg.

“Uh… Scar, is it?” Beast asked, clearing his throat.

Scar turned his bright eyes on his visitor. “Oh, my… why, if it isn’t the better half of the Belle of the ball. What brings you to such a grim and foreboding locale, Your Highness?” the lion drawled, leaping down from his perch.

Beast growled softly, showing his fangs. He pulled out a collection of drawings- some of the choicest pieces he had found in his research from last night. “From one, uh, furry royal to another… I was hoping you could help explain drawings like these to me.”

He held out various pieces of fan art for Scar to see. The lion laughed. “Oh, dear! What have you stumbled upon? I know you Princes are often pining for your lady loves, but if you really need some, ah, entertainment that badly…”

Beast scowled. “I didn’t come here to be snarked at by someone that couldn’t even keep a pack of hyenas at bay- and I also know you are popular with this crowd, too. More so than your nephew or brother, at least from what I could find.”

“Hah,” Scar laughed bitterly. “Don’t be so sure. Even in that realm, big brother seems to come out on top- in every sense of that phrase, unfortunately. It’s to do with the deep voice, the brawn, broad shoulders, et cetera. I think they call it ‘bara.’ You probably star in a few pieces like that, now that I think about it. Depraved, isn’t it?”

Beast furrowed his brow, sifting through the pieces of art he had collected. “Is- is that what this is?” He showed Scar a drawing of the prince himself, except much larger than he normally stood.

“Thereabouts,” Scar said after a cursory glance. “Where exactly does this train of thought lead, dear Prince? Your face is making me think of wildebeest, so my mind is wandering towards lunch.”

Beast stopped himself, looking unsure. He shifted his weight nervously, then turned back to Scar. “What if I wanted to… look more like some of these drawings?”

Scar arched his brow. “And why would you want that?”

“Because I’ve been overlooked,” Beast snapped. “Because these seem to be my biggest- maybe my only- fans. Belle and the other princesses have legions of fans. It seems like I’ve only got… these people. And, I don’t know- it’s not as if I have anything else to do. Being the hero doesn’t exactly feel all that… rewarding when I’m stuck spending all day with four Prince Charmings and maybe one personality between them.”

“Spare me,” Scar snapped. “As if I of all people want to hear about the trials and tribulations of being the protagonist. If you want something from me, I suggest you tell me directly before I lose my patience with this little novelty of a visit.”

The prince frowned deeper, crossing his arms. “You know a lot of villains. One or two of them with powers that could… change me. I was hoping you’d be kind enough to point me towards them.”

Scar chuckled airily, thinking to himself how this might be entertaining to watch after all. “Very well. There is one person that might fit the bill…”

Going from one villain to another, Beast had nearly given up and sulked back to the other princes; he saw Gaston. The hunter actually had fans- something that left the prince mystified- and he just barely managed to slip out before he was noticed. Picking his way through the villains’ hangout, he kept going until he started to smell calamari. Scar had pointed him in the direction of the sea witch, Ursula. Walking into a strangely lavish lair with walls made of coral and mother-of-pearl, Beast cleared his throat. “Sea Witch? I was told to stop by if I needed help with... appearance issues.”

“Oh, my! Who is this that’s come to visit poor old Ursula?” slithering in on her tentacles was the extremely large, rubenesque form of Ursula, black tentacles and all. Her eyes glistened upon seeing Beast. “Ha! Dear me, you’ve gotten lost, haven’t you, Fido?”

“Cute.” The furry hero growled. “I know your tricks. I want something done, you can do it, I’m willing to make a deal, but you’re not getting my voice.”

“Well! As if I’d want that slobber-filled growl of a voice.” Ursula clicked her tongue, before resting her chin on her hand. “But please, thrill me- what do you think you want?”

Beast pulled out the now slightly crumpled fan art. He handed the ones he liked the most to the Sea Witch. “Can you make me look like this?”

Ursula thumbed through the pictures, slowly raising her brow. “Hm. And what’s brought this on, angelfish? Worried that your dearly beloved will start looking for adventure in the great wide somewhere between a certain hunky hunter’s arms?”

“No!” Beast said, a little too quickly. He sighed, shaking his head. “Look, I’ve got my reasons. Can you do it?”

“I can, though you must admit, this is a little excessive…” Ursula muttered, before looking back up at her client. “Though I can’t judge- those of us with more body than language need to embrace it, no?” she chuckled, slapping her hand against her ample side.

“What do you want in return?” he asked.

Ursula thought for a moment. “Admittedly, sweetcakes, I’m not quite sure- you don’t have anything I want. Except…” her face twisted into a devious smirk. “You’re usually in the company of Prince Eric, aren’t you?”

Beast wobbled his hand. “I suppose you could call us friends.”

“Oh-ho! Perfect!” Ursula tittered. With a wave of her hand, her clam-shaped cauldron split open and leapt to life. “All you need to do is drink this little cordial,” she said, plucking a small glass bottle out of the smoky depths of her cauldron. “And make sure it’s somewhere that little mermaid of his can see it.”

Beast huffed, weighing the small bottle in his hand. “That’s it then, is it? Don’t you normally have a bit more of a production with this sort of thing?”

The Sea Witch scoffed. “Let me know when you’re an impressionable teenage princess who I can manipulate into stealing a kingdom, then I’ll give you the full show. We’re done here, so leave,” Ursula said with a flippant wave of her hand.

The beastly prince’s next stop was a gym for heroes and Disney’s good guys, naturally run by Hercules. Beast would make good on his deal with Ursula; he knew that Ariel went here almost every day to swim a few laps. Beast muttered a hello to the musclebound Greek god as Hercules waved him in, then awkwardly moved close to the pool. Dressed in a conservative sweat shirt and shorts that could fit his wolf-like legs, Beast surreptitiously drank Ursula’s potion. He fidgeted, feeling restless. Slowly, that restlessness grew. Beast began bouncing on his feet and palming his fists; to the rest of the gym, it looked like he was just psyching himself up for a workout. His tail swished excitedly, and he puffed up his chest, but as his pecs inflated, they didn’t fully recede. He glanced around; he needed to burn off some of this energy, and he needed to do it now.

Beast bounded for one of the training areas, filled with training dummies, obstacle courses, and punching bags. He muttered a curt “excuse me” to Mulan and Li Shang, cutting through their sparring match as he made for the punching bag, and immediately unleashed all the boundless adrenaline and power burning up in his veins. He curled back an arm and hit the punching bag with the force of a shotgun going off, and hit it again and again, each punch more powerful than the last. He paired a bestial roar with one last devastating blow that tore the bag from its chain, the battered heap of leather and padding crashing to the floor with a clatter.

All eyes turned to Beast, now breathing deeply. His sleeves had burst apart, and the prince breathed in sharply, eyes going wide as he saw his arms. In his beastly form, he had always possessed immense strength, and powerful looking arms to match- but now, beneath his shaggy brown fur, huge swells of muscle rose up to meet him. Biceps like melons surged, triceps billowing out like sails. Snarling softly, he tore off the other bits of his sleeves, leaving his engorged arms bare. He curled one arm, letting the muscle swell, and to his amazement, with each pump, his arm grew a little bigger. A small smile teased around Beast’s fangs; it felt good.

As enamored as he was with himself, however, Beast glanced around nervously. Some people were still watching him. “Uh…” he cleared his throat. “Nevermind me- just getting warmed up. Don’t worry, Hercules, I’ll pay for that. Go about your business.”

The crowd slowly turned away, as a pair of burly tigers from Zootopia carried the remains of the punching bag away. Beast looked around, keen to try something else- just to see how far this was going to go. He looked to one of the obstacle courses, designed for a monster-slaying level of heroes, and smirked. He could take that.

All the slowly expanding bulk packed on to his frame hadn’t slowed him down- not yet. His mighty legs coiled, surging thighs billowing as he leapt into the air. The raw strength packed into his trunk-sized legs propelled him past most of the course, and when he landed, it was with the force of a comet, splintering wood and cracking stone with the force of his impact. He rammed shoulders the size of shields into walls to knock them down, and with a pair of pecs forming a sprawling canyon surging out, he pried apart traps before he finished the course. He landed with one last ground-breaking pounce, his sweatshirt reduced to scraps. His immense back billowed out like a vast valley, and the eight stone-sized abs he sported were packed densely into a core with all the solidity of granite. Every part of him was immense, but the power he felt, the strength? It was a potent rush, like he could do anything, beat anyone, and definitely turn some heads. He lumbered past the pool, where Ariel and Jasmine were toweling off. The two princesses were chatting, finally free of hanger-ons and fans, but stopped when they were cast in the Beast’s sprawling shadow.

“Oh my…” Ariel glanced up- and out- at the titanic bulk of a beast before her. The beast’s face was still framed by a kingly mane, but now sat as the peak of a sprawling mountain range formed by a thick bullneck and sprawling traps. “Uhm- wow- Beast, is that you?”

Beast smirked slightly. “Heh- yeah. I’ve been working out a bit.” He casually curled his arm, his bicep surging.

“It’s… really paid off,” Ariel said with a slight roving eye. “We’ll have to talk later- Aaron-”
“Eric,” Jasmine corrected.
“Eric! Eric wanted to meet for lunch. But, uhm- good for you, Beast! I bet Belle is- I bet she’ll love this new look, too.” Ariel smiled before quickly joining Jasmine. Both of them looked back at Beast, and were furiously whispering between themselves.

Beast wore a knowing smile; so that’s why Ursula wanted him to show off. It wouldn’t come to anything, of course. Ariel was too sweet and Beast was too devoted to Belle, but he had to admit, he wouldn’t mind making Eric squirm a bit, maybe even force him to go to the gym- he wouldn’t be much use as a workout partner to Beast now, but someone had to help towel him off.

Days wore on, and the princes had gathered once again, but the mood was much changed. Philip, Charming, and Snow White’s Prince- now going by Frederick- were seated in their usual places, but Eric was sprawled out on a couch, softly groaning in pain.

“So, uh…” Philip cleared his throat. “How you feeling, Eric?”

“I want to kill the Beast,” the seafaring prince muttered, nursing an aching shoulder. “He wants to turn himself into a walking tank, that’s his choice- but why do I have to be dragged into it? Because Ariel wants me to have biceps bigger than my head?”

“I mean, it is a valid aesthetic,” Frederick said, which earned him a collection of odd looks from the other princes.

“It is starting to get out of hand,” Charming said. “He’s got new merchandise now. Worse, it’s trendy.”

“Well,” Eric sat up, if slowly and still clutching his side. “There is still one person that might be able to get through to him…”

Beast had cleared out a space for a new gym in his chambers, complete with everything someone of his size and caliber could want to maintain a monumental physique like his own. There was an audience to watch, as had quickly become standard, and he was only too happy to put on a show. Beast, now clocking in upwards of a ton, was a juggernaut, and every challenge and stunt that his audience had requested had been conquered with ease. He now wore a form-fitting muscle shirt, blue trimmed in gold, that somehow managed to envelop his immense bulk. Emblazoned across a chest the size of a truck grill was the phrase “Beast Mode,” a new catch phrase for the monstrously huge prince that had been trending for days. Shorts that looked painted on traversed sprawling masses of leg muscle, as heavily sculpted as fluted columns.

He held up his hands to settle the audience down. “I looked through a few of the requests,” Beast began. “I thought the egg-crack flex seemed intriguing- you’ve seen this online, yes? A bodybuilder tries cracking an egg between his forearm and bicep while flexing? Well,” he chuckled low, his massive pecs bouncing. He theatrically revealed a stone ball the size of a human head, palming it in one hand. “Solid granite, about fifty pounds. Heh,” he tossed it into the air casually. “Feels light as a feather.”
With one last grin and a wink to his audience, Beast cradled the ball between the huge slab of meat that was his forearm and the rippling hill of muscle  that was his bicep. He curled his arm, grunting as he mashed the two halves of his arm. Across his biceps and triceps were a pair of tattoos of roses and thorny vines, and as he flexed, his bicep inflated, distorting the ink. The swell of muscle continued to rise until it met his clenched fist, and finally, between the two slabs of engorged muscle, a loud, earthy crack, bits of stone and dust bursting into the air. He straightened his arm and shards of the stone ball fell to the ground. Beast offered a toothy smile as he posed, hunching down to give a hint of the sheer breadth of his lats, and curling his arms inward, his biceps mashing against his swollen pecs, jostling each other for room.

“Are you still taking requests?” a familiar voice called out. Beast’s smile stopped instantly as he spotted his wife. Belle, lovely long hair, sharp, intelligent hazel eyes, was standing amongst the audience.

“Uh.” Beast straightened up. “Thank you all for stopping by, but… I need to, uh- to take a break. I’ll be back.” The hulking creature was able to hustle the audience out of the gym, until he was left alone with Belle. She was giving him a level look, her arms crossed.

Beast ran a hand over his head, bicep and his shoulder rising to mash against his cheek. “Hi, Belle.”

“I know I’ve been a little absent… but I’m glad to see you’ve been keeping busy,” she said. Belle walked around her husband- it took a good few moments to fully circumnavigate him- until they were facing one another again. Beast had to hunch down with as close as Belle got- he couldn’t see her past the crest of his pecs.

“Uhm… well, it’s just a hobby I picked up.”

“Mhm.” Belle glanced archedly at the phrase stretched across his shirt. “Beast mode?”

“It’s been trending!”

Belle sighed, resting a hand on Beast’s chest. “I’ve got a lot of questions- but I guess the first one is, are you really comfortable like this?”

Beast smiled sheepishly. “A bit, actually… it’s been nice. And- and I’m stronger! So much stronger. I could do, well- anything, really.”

There was a strange glint in Belle’s eye. “Anything? Well… you’ve been doing these shows for a few days, I don’t suppose you’d offer any private demonstrations? If you can fit me into your busy schedule, of course.”

Beast was quick to pick up Belle’s hint. His chest puffed up again as he herded Belle to his side, one arm alone enough to entirely envelope her. “I think that can be arranged,” he rumbled.