I haven't written about it much, but I do really enjoy petrification (especially when it involves turning into gold). It's also really fun to combo with other things, like magical weight-gain! A while back  Kuya suggested a really fun story idea involving just those things, and I finally found the time to write it! Both the weight-gain and petrification are permanent as a heads up. Enjoy :3

After defeating a dragon, Tycho is rewarded with an irresistible feast and magical golden food...

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The Golden Reward
By: Indi

Tycho couldn’t help but feel out of place as he was escorted through the palace. Everything was so grand and extravagant, from the decor to the uniforms of the many guards and servants. For a paladin like him, it was all a bit...much. But the lion pretended to be impressed, if only to remain in the good graces of King Leon, who’d invited him there.
The king was right beside him, the rotund spotted hyena smiling as he continued to lavish his guest in praise. “Oh Sir Tycho, you’ve done so much for our kingdom! Every adventurer we’d sent against that dreaded dragon ended up stuffed to immobility and added to his hoard, and even my precious, unlucky twin brother fell victim to the fattening fiend!” He offered a mournful frown. “But you took him on all by yourself, and defeated him for good!”
It was a grand exaggeration as far as Tycho was concerned. He’d relied on his wit to trick the dragon’s kobolds into stuffing themselves silly, and then his powers over luck to cause the dragon to stumble snout-first into a cauldron of cookie dough. The draconic blob wasn’t going to be mobile himself anytime soon.
But the silly victory had been deemed a feat of legendary renown by the kingdom, and now Tycho was being treated as a hero. Like the palace itself, it was all a bit much.
“Well I had to try. A paladin can’t just ignore a kingdom-fattening dragon.” He was certain no other paladin had ever—or would ever again—say such ridiculous words.
“Oh don’t be so humble. You’re a hero, and you deserve a reward fit for one!” King Leon said. “But before that, there’ll be a magnificent feast.”
Guards swung open the two large doors they’d just arrived at, revealing a spacious great hall. Long tables had been set up, and each was filled with food and drink. The sheer excess of it all reminded Tycho of the dragon’s lair. A dozen or so prominent nobles were already seated. It still felt like too few guests considering how much food was being provided. Sure, Tycho was the slimmest one there by far, but unless the rotund nobles were planning to glut themselves to immobility he couldn’t see them finishing it all. And oddly enough, none were at the table most overflowing with food.
Tycho and the King walked past the nobles to the empty table and its two, wide seats. The more ornate of the two was clearly for Leon, clad in gold and decorated with the sigils of his royal house. The other was more like a bench, though still luxurious. From a glance Tycho saw it was likely meant for only one person, yet it seemed wide enough for three. His mind drifted to Prince Raf, the King’s twin brother who’d been stuffed until he was as wide as he was tall. The seat would likely fit him perfectly.
The paladin sat down, and immediately felt out of place. The guests, the honors, the food, the extravagance...it didn’t suit him. But it did tempt him. When prompted, he took his first bite.
As expected, the food was delicious. Of course a king would have access to the finest ingredients and chefs. Yet the taste still exceeded Tycho’s expectations. He tried to pace himself at first, taking his time to enjoy everything that was offered and sip on the wine (which was also incredible).
His restraint lasted half of the first plate.
Tycho began to cut larger portions for himself, and drink longer gulps of wine. His anxiety faded some. Perhaps a little celebration would be good for him. There was no harm in indulging once in a while. He’d have his fill at the King’s expense, and do his best to turn down other rewards.
Soon, the paladin had finished off his plate. He looked down at it with disappointment, his hunger not yet sated. The other dishes within reach called to him.
King Leon saw the lion ogling the food and smiled. “Go ahead, try the shepherd's pie! And the potatoes of course. Oh, and the pasta to the right of it. The royal chefs put in their best effort to make everything, and I know they’d be elated to learn which dishes you enjoyed the most. So please, eat up!”
Normally Tycho would’ve found a way to politely decline. Instead his paw was already reaching for the pie. And the potatoes. And the pasta. He added some of each to his plate and started eating again, faster than before.
Bite after bite brought delight to Tycho’s taste buds. Even the foods he was apathetic towards proved amazing, better than anything he’d had before. He lamented the fact he’d only be able to nibble at some of what had been offered, as there was no way his stomach could possibly hold it all.
But the lion had already stuffed himself a good deal without realizing it. His middle was bulging, small but round, and crammed with food and wine. Even at his most gluttonous he’d never consumed so much in one sitting. And he wasn’t slowing down.
Gradually Tycho’s belly swelled, gently pushing against the table. The sensation briefly registered in his mind, but was quickly replaced by the desire to eat more. Though he didn’t feel like he was starving, the desire to eat and eat and eat was strong, pervasive. He reached for more on instinct, without really thinking about it. Anytime he considered something was off the thoughts were shoved away. Eating everything there was seeming less and less ridiculous with each passing second.
Before long his body started changing to match his increased gluttony. Tycho was growing fatter. His middle softened, faintly wobbling up and down as food was instantly turned into fat. From top to bottom the feline was gaining pudge. His clothing magically altered to handle his inexplicable increase in weight, never becoming tight enough for him to notice.
Servants were taking away the empty plates and nudging full ones closer to Tycho. They kept his goblet full of wine, and the table full of food.
King Leon had eaten a fair amount himself, but his attention was more on the paladin plumping up nearby. His grin grew sly, and he expressed no surprise at what was happening. “Don’t forget the lamb—the sauce is delectable. Don’t be shy, have your fill, feast to your heart’s content!”
The encouragement worked, and Tycho’s gorging intensified. He felt utterly insatiable. Once daunting, the feast now looked like a blessing, and he couldn’t fathom not eating every last bite.
The pounds were rapidly piling on. Tycho had gone from chubby to plump to just plain fat. He’d already doubled in weight, and the food kept coming. Most of the gains were in his belly, a massive doughy ball that squished and jiggled as he ate. Small gaps were forming in between the buttons of his purple vest, which clung to every curve and roll of his larger body. It wasn’t uncomfortably tight, but it didn’t quite fit right, either.
The portly paladin’s rump was filling out the bench, which wasn’t oversized anymore. Thighs and arms were thick and soft, his fingers plump. Tycho’s cheeks were so round they pressed slightly against his muzzle, and a second chin had formed.
Changes were happening so swiftly one could merely glance at Tycho and tell he was visibly expanding. Eating was all he knew. His mind didn’t register how huge he’d gotten, how much he’d devoured, how strange it all was for him—or anyone for that matter—to gorge so heavily. And of course no one else at the feast planned on stopping him.
A new wave of dishes were brought out just for Tycho, the most decadent yet. Each morsel was coated in edible gold leaf that shimmered in the light, set upon golden plates with golden utensils. Even the wine was replaced with something that resembled liquid gold.
“Only the finest, richest food and drink for our hero,” King Leon chuckled. The hyena was still grazing, his own belly a bit rounder as well. He was now a little thinner than Tycho, though.
Tycho cared little about the food’s appearance. He only wanted it in his belly. He scarfed down the gold-covered feast with as much haste as anything else, and guzzled the golden wine. By the time he’d wiped out the first plate, his fur had changed from light brown to golden brown. The same was true for his mane and tail. Even his eyes had turned gold.
The more the lion ate, the more golden he became. Tycho’s fur steadily gained a sheen to it, reflecting the light just like the food itself. His original coloration was gone, replaced by different shades of brilliant gold. Soon after, his clothing changed as well, until no color but gold covered the blubbery paladin.
Tycho ate and drank and glutted and gorged, growing fatter and fatter as he finished off the rest of the feast all by himself. By the end, the lion was a barely mobile ball of blubber.
“That was—uorrrrrrrrrp—wonderful,” Tycho said. His body wobbled as he panted, tired out by the non-stop eating. He felt pleasantly full, still unaware his weight had ballooned enormously.
“It was the least we could offer to a hero of your stature.” It was hard for King Leon to resist snickering. “And now that you’ve been properly fed, I do believe it’s time for your final, most grandiose reward. Please stand, noble paladin, so you can pose for your statue.”
“Statue?” Tycho asked.
“Of course! You’re the most celebrated hero in the kingdom--it only makes sense to immortalize you with a statue,” King Leon said.
Tycho looked flustered at the idea, but didn’t protest. “Well...if you insist.”
With considerable effort Tycho slid off his seat and lumbered after King Leon. Simply being able to move was quite a feat for the immense golden lion. Again nothing felt the least bit off to him, as if he’d always been nearly as wide as he was tall. Fortunately he didn’t have far to go.
Tycho was directed onto a short marble platform. “Now all you have to do is strike your most heroic pose, and we’ll have ourselves a glorious golden statue to remember you by forever.”
At his size, there weren’t many ways for Tycho to pose at all. Eventually he managed something slightly more dramatic than standing still, and smiled.
A sudden chill surged through Tycho’s body, causing him to freeze up. He was rapidly feeling numb all over. And yet he didn’t break his pose. Fur and clothing smoothed out, his sheen becoming more and more prominent. He tried to ask for help, but the words just couldn’t come out.
The thumping of Tycho’s chest ceased, as did his breath. There was no movement anywhere on his body; he’d become solid gold. But his mind lingered, the paladin conscious of the world around him.
King Leon walked up to Tycho and knocked on his gut. A metallic thump came back. “You know what they say, Tycho: you are what you eat!” He let out a hearty, belly-shaking laugh. “The Royal Alchemist really outdid himself this time. Now I’m glad I didn’t test the golden food out on him first. Though a blubbery golden bird statue would still be a lovely prize.”
He slowly circled the statue, admiring its size and glimmer. King Leon enjoyed heft--the main reason he was rotund himself—and always jumped on the opportunity to see others get fatter. It was why he’d secretly supported the dragon stuffing his subjects. The dragon’s defeat was unfortunate, but he couldn’t deny the fun in having an immobile dragon as a trophy.
It’d also proven Tycho was too dangerous to let roam around. It wouldn’t be good if the paladin’s enthusiasm interfered with more of the King’s lesser-known endeavors.
But now King Leon could claim Tycho had been fattened up before defeating the dragon, and chosen to retire from the adventuring life. Though not before posing for an impressively realistic golden statue to celebrate his brave service to the kingdom.
King Leon chuckled. People would travel far and wide just to get a glimpse of the wonderful statue, and none would guess it’d once been the actual paladin it depicted. And perhaps—if he were lucky—they’d consider imitating the heft of their hero. At the very least, he’d certainly encourage it.
As the King waddled off to chat with his nobles, Tycho was left staring, frozen. His wits were slowly returning to him, but nothing else. The fact he was about to start a new life as the fattest golden statue in the realm was sinking in. If only he’d turned down the reward.