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yukiwrites · 5 years ago

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Spark of Life in a Cursed Body

OKAY SO IT’S NOT A SECRET THAT I’VE BEEN THIRSTING OVER LÍF FROM THE START YEAH? Yeah okay. So.

I’ve just been.. WAITING for more info on him to write uh to write sin of him... and NOW WE HAVE IT NOW THERE WE GO!!! LÍF/ALFONSE X KIRAN SIN!! Hope ya’ll enjoy it as much as I did writing it aksjdlnakmsd I LOVE EDGY ALFONSE WITH MY LIFE

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Part 1 - Part 2

Kiran opened her eyes after she had seemingly just closed them, her entire body aching as the tips of her fingers lost their sensation. She was cold. So, so very cold.

The freezing stone she lied on and at never got warmer, no matter how many hours she chose to lay against it -- the damp, large cell that imprisoned her didn't magically become welcoming to her after the third day she had been chained inside it, either.

The large handcuffs itched on her wrists and ankles, preventing her from moving at all; she could barely stretch her legs and arms without feeling a twinge of pain from the short chains securely holding her to the wall.

She had been captured by the army of the dead three days previous in an act of carelessness. The one who abducted her, Líf, was not only her captor, but her warden as well. He had been the only living soul -- well, maybe not that alive -- she had seen ever since turning prisoner.

Apart from his muffled steps and silent ruffling of his cape dragging itself behind him three times per day, Kiran heard nothing. She had no idea where she was or how far into the Realm of the Dead she were -- or if she was in Hel at all. She could be anywhere.

What she did know what that she was at least three levels underground in some sort of abandoned dungeon. The walls weren't well maintained and there were leakages here and there; also the ventilation was either clogged or broken apart: it was far too cold even for an underground cave. She had been stripped of her Order of Heroes coat under the guise of preventing her from reaching for a hidden weapon, though the most important weapon she had in her possession managed to not be taken: Breidablik was a magical item that could be summoned through her will and a sleight of hand.

Problem was that her hands were bound so tightly together she couldn't hold her firearm-like weapon properly.

Also, the tips of her fingers were almost losing all sensation -- she was barely able to hold the spoon to feed herself whenever her captor came around to deliver her meals, let alone hold the distinguished mechanism that allowed her weapon to shoot magic and summon Heroes.

Sighing, the Summoner looked up to her feeling breath, feeling its warmth fade away from her body and her cell alike. No matter how many times she asked why she was brought there or why was she simply left alone for the most part of the day without ever seeing either the light of the day or the fading light of Hel herself, Líf simply remained silent.

He would bring her meals in silence, place the tray in front of her in silence, turn around and stay outside in silence until enough time had passed for her to finish eating so he could collect the tray and disappear into the nether for another six hours.

Then he would come back and repeat that strange ritual, while the silence would echo back Kiran's words to herself.

She was tired. It's 'only' been three days, but she had barely slept due to the cold and hard stone, not to mention the lack of feeling from all of her limbs -- were she to stay in that position for another day, she was sure she would need to amputate both legs and arms for lack of proper circulation.

As though on cue, the ruffling sound of Líf's cape and his muffled steps filled the silence with echo, the small sounds augmenting to the point of hurting Kiran's ears.

She was tired.

He pushed the door open -- Kiran noticed the previous day that it was unlocked, thus the reason why she was chained to the wall instead -- and entered in silence, his eyes quickly looking around the cell to check if there was anything out of place.

How could it be, Kiran thought, uncharacteristically ironic, I can't even stretch my legs from here, let alone wreak havoc inside an unlocked cell. Her tired eyes looked at his, their dark circles mirroring each other. She opened her mouth to speak, but barely a huff left her lips, exhaustion filling her lungs.

As per usual, Líf placed the tray by her folded knees, not waiting for her to reach for it before turning around to leave.

"Why..." she managed to say, her voice hoarse. He stopped in his tracks. "Why are you keeping me here, Alfonse? Don't just stay... silent, please." She huffed, her eyes burning with tears.

"..." Líf looked over his shoulder to his captive, their equally tired eyes meeting. She thought she saw a flash of compassion gleaming on his crimson gaze, but dismissed it as an illusion her mind prepared to make herself feel better. "The living should eat." He sounded muffled by his mask at the same time it shone in a brighter tone of blue while his voice spoke. "So do so." He said curtly, exiting the cell and closing the door behind him.

"Hahh..." Kiran breathed out a long sigh, her body deflating above itself, her muscles screaming in pain. As always, she could see his blue hair from the small, barred, window at the door, as well as the shadow of his feet in front of the gap under the door.

There had to be a reason for her to be so isolated from everything else. To start with, why did the General of the Dead capture her and put her so far from wherever they should actually be? Wasn't he a cursed version of Alfonse bound to obedience by Hel because he was dead? Why wasn't Kiran presented to Death herself immediately? Was he trying to slowly kill her and chip away her will to fight back before delivering her to a gruesome fate under the same curse as he?

... Why did he visit her at all if that were the case? He brought her meals three times a day -- though they were tasteless as they could be, they fulfilled their role of feeding her and (poorly) conserving her strength, as far as meals go, anyway. 'The living need to eat', he had said, as though he planned to keep on letting her stay that way, alive.

Calling him by his true name did nothing to steal answers from him, either. It made it hard for Kiran to compare the pure, hardworking and thoughtful Alfonse she knew to that silence machine. Even if he did look like a grown up and hardier Alfonse. If only he took that mask so she could see the true face of the cursed man under it...

Kiran only noticed she had finished eating when the door opened once again for Líf to collect the tray. She instinctively grabbed his hand, the cold metal of his armor doing nothing to her already numb fingers.

His eyebrows flickered with her touch, his eyes immediately meeting hers. She breathed in before speaking, though she had no idea where those words came from. "Did the Kiran of your world join the army of the dead as well?"

His eyes widened with the most emotion Kiran had ever seen from him -- they flickered from the usual crimson to Alfonse's true color, the deep blue the Summoner was used to. He frowned deeply, his eyes flickering with both colors, as though an inner fight had sparked inside his mind and heart.

Kiran could hear him breathing. Or perhaps huffing? That had been the first time she heard him do so -- she could almost pinpoint his heart beating, as though it was surfacing from a long, cold sleep. His chest went up and down, as though Kiran's words had triggered memories sealed deep within to surface in flashes, his vision blurring -- the only constant was the Summoner's warm touch over his ever-cold arm.

Memories -- they rushed into Líf's consciousness.

Her voice, her warm touch.

Her clumsiness, her eagerness to run around the large fields while pulling his hand, never letting go even after tripping -- taking him with her.

Rolling down the hills while dissolving in laughter, protecting her from most of the impact and still allowing mirth to shake his body despite the numbing pain of taking the brunt of the falls.

And oh, how many times did they fall.

But as long as they were together, as long as their hands were intertwined, he didn't mind taking the brunt for her.

He always did and he always would.

Yet... why was she the first one to jump in front of Hel's scythe directed at him? Why did she disappear into light right in front of his eyes, never to be seen again?

Why did they never meet after death? Did she return to her world? Did death claim her there?

Where was she?

"K-Kiran, oh, Kiran..." his voice shook, his mind stuck in the awakening dream.

Surprised with the deep-reaching sweetness that came attached to her own name, Kiran felt her eyes bubbling with tears, as though his voice alone could touch her heart. "Alfonse?" She whispered, almost lovingly so, reaching out for his mask so as to take it off.

Once she did, she could see that the intersection between skin and curse was black, like a charred scar that still pulsated. Under his nose and covering half of his lips, she could see the scar as the lower half of his jaw was covered in that blue curse, the bones visible through the transparent skin.

Hesitating before touching it, Kiran felt that the cursed half of his face was cold and warm at the same time, as though she touched something with the sensation of being febrile. Yet, the upper half, untouched by the curse and filled with his pale skin, felt warm to the touch, as though he were alive like herself.

Líf felt his entire body pulsate, the color of the curse throughout his body changing from blue to red, then to his natural skin color.

"Alfonse..." Kiran whispered his name again, the careful and tender emotion with which he looked past her -- as though seeing someone else in her, other than herself -- made her sag her shoulders and cup his face into her hands.

She heard a strong, loud heartbeat. Then another, and yet another. The faster it beat, the fainter the curse took hold of Líf, revealing his true skin under the bright blue.

An approaching dread made Líf shiver as he immediately blinked, seeing the true Kiran in front of him.

No. She wasn't his Kiran. Not the one who died in place of him to give their world a chance.

She was the one he had to protect; to prevent Hel from ever finding her lest she was butchered right in front of his eyes a second time.

She wasn't his, but oh, by all the gods, did he long for the day she would be. A day that would never come, granted -- not in his after-life. Not after he had missed the chance to be happy with her while he was alive.

"No!" He hissed, quickly jumping away from her. Hel could feel life.

Whenever there was life, death loomed closer.

Only Kiran's life force was different, for Hel had no hold in the world she came from. If Kiran was properly hidden amidst the dead, Hel would never find her.

But if Líf's heart started beating once more...

"That would be a lighthouse in the darkness for Hel to follow," his words outpaced his mind, speaking without meaning to.

Confused, almost bewildered by Líf's explosion of emotion, Kiran reached out for him once more. "Alfonse? What happened? You were-"

"Don't-" his voice struggled to keep emotionless as before, his chest still going up and down fervently, trying to suppress the rush of feelings. He covered half of his face with one hand, pulling his cloak closer with the other. "Do not call that name again. Not with her voice." He huffed, quickly leaving as though he needed to run away from her -- from her touch, from her memory.

From what she could awaken in him.

Inside the cell, Kiran could feel her heart beating in her ears, thumping so loudly it deafened her thoughts. He had left in such a hurry he forgot not only the tray but also to close the door entirely. He was running away from her.

Running away from what she could awaken in him. She could feel it in her innermost core: Líf -- no, the Alfonse he was before the curse -- loved her. Loved the memory of the Kiran he had lost during the battle against Hel; found her so precious he kidnapped this Kiran who looked like her but did not share her memories nor her feelings to protect her from Hel. A rather clumsy attempt at protecting, yes, but it was as though their quick but meaningful exchange had enlightened her.

He had been dead for so, so long.

He only had the fading memories of life to hold on to, and even those were diving into the abyss of darkness that his death was becoming.

To him, living meant only eating -- mayhap he forgot about everything else in the hundreds of years of servitude to Death.

Kiran's heart beat wildly, inadvertently smiling, but covering her lips right after. "Clumsy, but cute. As though the Alfonse in there never went away at all."

In his desperation, Líf had taken much too long to calm himself down; to bring back the coldness of death into his body. Making his own heart stop beating willingly was a strenuous task he never thought he would need to undertake. After all, the curse had been the one to do that the first time.

Before he realized, it was dawn -- he hadn't taken Kiran's third meal of the previous day, which startled him to the point of hearing the faint beating at the back of his mind again.

There was no way Hel did not notice the flicker of life coursing through his body in the previous night -- even if he hadn't actually met Death herself that day, he knew she had complete domain over all the withered lands around them. The parallel Order of Heroes turtled through their territory in search of their Summoner, but it would take them at least another week before they reached the dungeon into which Líf had brought Kiran to.

Was that enough time? Was that too little time? How long would it take for Death to act and claim his life as she did with Eir, for so very long? How long would it take until Death reclaimed its ownership of Kiran's life right in front of his eyes, once again by his own carelessness?

It had been a mistake -- to allow himself to remember so much. To feel alive again, even if it were only for a brief moment. To hear his own heart beating for that small, shivering and utterly charming woman.

To want to hold her hand, caress her body and claim her for his own as he had done so very long ago.

A mistake. One that could not be repeated again -- ideally ever, but more realistically at least until the Order of Heroes reached the dungeon.

He reached the dungeon after taking his usual precautions so as not to be noticed and entered swiftly, going down the steps in an uncharacteristic hurry. The moment he saw the wide open door, he felt a twinge where his heart used to be. Had she left?! Was he to never look upon her again?

Once he reached the door, however, the answer both relieved and terrified him -- Kiran lay on the floor, breathing heavily with her arms wrapped around herself. He didn't hear his voice calling her name, his body once again gleaming with life and dread at the same time. "Answer me! Has Hel claimed your-" he stuttered, his eyes trying to find the reason for her body to be so hot and her breathing to be so shallow at the same time.

"Alfonse..." She huffed, reaching out for his face. He had forgotten his mask in her hands the previous day, his expressions bare for her to see, as little as she could with her blurred vision. "I think I'm... catching a cold, hah." She coughed weakly, pulling him with everything she had so she could snuggle with his cold skin. A mistake, clearly, but her mind was fogged and she longed for the warmth she had felt in him the last time they met.

"Cold? A cold?" His eyes unfocused, he took a few moments to remember that the living indeed could get sick if they were exposed to low temperatures for long periods of time.

How utterly careless and clumsy! Líf had been dead for so long he didn't feel any more sensations in his skin -- neither cold, nor hot. He never stopped to think that Kiran could freeze to death in that damp, freezing cell.

He looked around, helpless as though he were a toddler trying to find something right in front of him, for something that could cure Kiran. He caught a glimpse of his own cloak and immediately covered her with it, at least giving her the well-deserved warmth he had robbed her for almost a week.

"Ahh, so warm..." Kiran smiled, leaning her cheek on his febrile chest. At the verge of panicking, Líf was unsure of what to do: it would do no good to kidnap her for her safety and have her die of a common disease! What did the living do in these situations, again? Why did he remember so much about his relationship with her, but nothing about the common sense of a living man?

Kiran snuggled into his chest, tightly wrapping herself in his thick cloak. "Thank you for what you've been doing for me, Alfonse." She said in a feverish daydream. "You've been protecting me, haven't you? From the dead... Even though I'm not... her." She huffed, her eyes closed, but her ears catching the slightest glimpse of his resurfacing heartbeat.

Unable to form proper words, Líf simply adjusted Kiran in his arms, allowing her to lean on him entirely instead of the cold stone behind her. Tea? Warm stew? Were these enough to cure a cold? He had no idea.

"You... you can think of me as her." Kiran said after a few moments of silence, the fever making her mind fog. "I'll comfort you, Alfonse. I'll embrace your... feelings." She huffed, placing one hand over his bare, cursed chest, making him flinch with her touch.

The place her fingers touched turned red, then returned to his skin color, as though the mere presence of her was enough to lift it entirely.

Once again he felt his heart beating and thundering by his ears, his eyes unused to the high his mind was going through.

"You are... sick." He managed to scramble the words, hesitating on whether he should take her hand away from him or to embrace her entirely.

Kiran chuckled, breathing the cool air under the long-awaited warmth of his cloak. "Psh, I'm fine. If I just sleep a bit, I'll wake up alright."

Líf may have let out a strangled 'oh' in response, but he didn't remember -- he was focusing all of his forces into making his heart stop beating again. Into making himself stop feeling.

Into stopping his hand from embracing her and bringing her closer to his chest.

Kiran woke up many hours later, at the late afternoon, feeling refreshed and without many body aches. Once she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, she saw that she was surrounded by thick blankets and a large pillow -- all of them looking and smelling very old, but at least doing their job of making her comfortable rather well.

What had happened? She remembered hearing Líf's-- no, Alfonse's voice calling her, then strong arms holding her... She remembered talking of comfort and embracing, but little else.

Still, whom but Líf could have brought all of these for her? She still hung into his cloak, as well. The door was also closed, and the food atop the tray, restocked.

Kiran took one hand to her heart, to reassert herself of what was going on, and why was she feeling the way she did. She had discovered Líf's feelings for her, or at least for another version of her -- the version who died and left him behind, helpless and cursed. She found out about the Alfonse-like clumsiness he still had in him, as well as the way his mind, long poisoned by death, worked slowly regarding the matters of the living. It all made the first days of her captivity to feel like a wronged nightmare -- a clumsy mistake.

She was still chained, yes, but even the chains had changed, from a heavy iron to a light wood; they barely weighed on her arms and weren't nearly as cold.

There was also the matter of Líf's touch. His skin felt cold and warm at the same time, but whenever she could hear a heartbeat in the distance, the warmth outweighed the coldness. As though he felt so much for such a short period of time that it momentarily brought him back to life.

The tips of Kiran's fingers tingled, wanting to feel his skin under them again. Her heart wavered, wanting to be tenderly embraced another time -- and properly remember it. Her lungs huffed, her face embarrassed as she remembered the words she had uttered previously. "I'll comfort you? I'll embrace your feelings? What?!" She hissed shyly, shoving food into her mouth, her cheeks bright red.

Not two seconds later, Líf opened the door. The missing shuffling of his cloak making Kiran unable to detect his soft steps, which in turn made her choke with food in surprise.

Líf reached out to her, but hesitated as she almost coughed a lung to un-choke herself, unsure of what to do. Instead, he simply stood there, hand midway into action.

"Um, thank you for all of this," Kiran cleared her throat, signaling with her chin to the blankets and pillow around her. "I almost caught a cold there, but you saved me."

It had been his fault to begin with, Líf narrowed his eyes with guilt, but said nothing. He simply stared as she ate, unmoving from the door.

Still embarrassed from her sudden realization, Kiran munched in silence, quickly swallowing before speaking again. "Um... Can I ask something?"

"..." Líf remained silent, though he crossed his arms as though giving her leave to speak. Well, even if it weren't, she would have spoken anyway.

"Can I, um, can I take a walk? We don't need to go far or outside at all, but I need to stretch my legs... I'm afraid I won't remember how to walk if I stay here for too long."

Líf felt his chest fall, as though his slumbering heart felt guilt. He opened and closed his mouth many times, glad that he was wearing his mask once again.

"I promise I won't run away." She added, her pleading eyes making Líf's legs feel funny. "I wouldn't be able to, anyway," she mumbled under her breath, messing with a lock of hair as she usually did whenever she felt awkward.

Líf had to take one hand to his chest, as though he could clutch his heart which felt so much pain and devotion at the same time.

He hadn't felt anything in so long the sudden resurgence of feelings felt like a bucket of cold water slapped him in the face. He remembered.

Every single detail of his life beside her, he remembered.

How she would mess with that specific lock of hair whenever she was embarrassed to ask him for something so menial. To spend more time with him, to hug him for a while longer. To follow her into a place she thought secret but was actually a garden he had spent his childhood in.

He had never told her about that, actually; always relishing on her proud smile to show him this or that detail of the secluded and forgotten place. She had always been so pure, so eager, so...

So lovely.

His eyes almost hurt with emotion, his entire body struggling to keep his heart at bay.

Just another moment.

Just another moment beside her.

She meekly looked up to him, still holding that damned and adorable lock of hair, "Alfonse?" she asked in her sweet voice, making Líf shake in his innermost core.

He couldn't let these feelings overflow; he couldn't let them take control.

But, by the gods, he had to, he needed to spend another moment, another second in her presence.

"Only... until the end of the corridor." He managed to say, his voice strangled. "I know you wouldn't run away," he said softly, his voice so low Kiran barely understood the words.

To hear his name in her voice again; to be the target of her meek and embarrassed gaze; to witness how the smile would slowly be born in her face and be the sole spectator of its wonderful display.

"Thank you so much! But, um, there's something else..." She hesitated, never letting go of her hair as he crouched to open the chains. She held both hands over his arm, making all of the alarms inside his head and dormant heart ring. "I... Can I hold your arm while I walk? It's been almost a week and I don't think I can walk properly just yet."

His heart twinged, his eyes almost burning with emotion.

He wanted to touch her, to embrace her.

He wanted to welcome the feelings that were forcefully ripping his chest apart.

Oh, what he wouldn't give to be the Alfonse who had summoned her! To be the one who would live his days by her side!

"..." He nodded so faintly Kiran almost missed it, but the sound of her giggle only made him want to lay there a while longer, under the warmth of her hands.

"Thank you, Alfonse. I knew I could always count on you," she whispered giddily, struggling to pull herself on her feet after she was freed from the chains. "Oh, I mustn't forget this," she quickly wrapped herself around his cloak before going back to squeezing his arm for support, making him want to clutch his chest once more.

She was so small. So, very small. The cape that barely ruffled on the floor in his back dragged itself for many inches behind her small feet as they walked out of the cell.

Her limbs felt weak, but it felt oh so good to be able to walk again! She smiled all the way through their outing as short as it was, considering they just went around the block and back at her cell. Líf held the door as Kiran went inside, not wanting to break contact with him, but securely holding his cloak around herself. She wouldn't let him take it back from her, at least not yet.

She gave but one step inside and stopped in her tracks, her heart beating wildly in her chest. "Um, Alfonse. I- um, I meant what I said earlier." She pulled his cape over her head to hide herself and quickly hid under the other blankets in embarrassment.

Líf slowly lowered his head, feeling heat cover his cheeks for the first time in hundreds of years. He closed the door between them, the silent agreement of keeping her inside without chains nor locks making the both of them look forward to the next time they would meet.

The General of the dead walked at small paces to the exit, silently going up the stairs as his heart seemingly calmed down by itself, somehow confident in spending more time with Kiran inside that little space he selfishly started calling their own.

Yet, as soon as he stepped outside, the cold wind of reality slapped him awake, scaring away any flushed faces and uneven heartbeats: the Order of Heroes had picked up their pace and would reach the dungeon in the morning.

Líf's scouts had informed him that the Order was being led by the elite of its Hero Generals; accomplished individuals in their own world who combined their mettle to save their Summoner.

His chest fell once again.

They would arrive and save her, as he had planned -- he managed to hide her from Hel's attempt of ambushing their Order the previous week, and managed to keep her hidden for his own convenience. After the panic he felt the previous night, it should have been a blessing that the Order would catch up to her so quickly -- Hel wouldn't be able to pinpoint Kiran's location through Líf's awakening heart and she would be able to come back safely to her rightful place: beside the Alfonse she knew.

It should have been a blessing.

She would be happy. She would live.

Líf felt his eyes burn with unshed tears, his breathing uneven. His heart was feeling, his body was aching. The lingering warmth her hands left on his arm was long gone, but he wanted to believe it was still there.

He wanted to feel it until the rest of his days. He wanted to hear her voice, to watch her fumbling with her hair, to see her clumsily lead him to places he already knew of.

'I'll comfort you. Think of me as her. I'll accept your feelings.' Her words echoed in his mind.

It was wrong.

It was so very wrong. The deepest part of him that was still that good natured Alfonse screamed inside, wanting him not to entertain that idea: not to take advantage of someone who looked so much like the one he loved.

Looked so much like her it could actually have been her from another time -- from a moment's earlier in time before she was summoned to this world.

What if they were the same? What if she disappeared in his world only to reappear in this one?

"Wishful thinking," he snarked in spite of himself, frozen between the hill that he could see the Order from afar and the dungeon he could see in the distance on the opposite side.

Wishful thinking, and yet... His recently-awakened heart was still so weak. He couldn't- he hadn't the strength to talk back to it, at least not that soon.

He wanted her, he needed her.

If only for one night... If only for one single night they could be together; if only they could go back to being the Crown Prince of Askr and his beloved Summoner... if only for a moment, to hear her sweet voice calling his name by his ear again...

"No," he fought with himself until the end, despite his legs taking him back to the dungeon and down the stairs. "Only... only if she allows it." He found the perfect excuse to chain himself to. Only if she gives the first step.

He lingered in front of her door for a very long time, his hand hesitating by the handle. Inside, Kiran woke up from her restless sleep, seeing the blue glow that covered Líf's body from the window at the door. "Alfonse? Did something happen? It's... not dawn yet, is it?"

Ahh, her voice.

He opened the door soundlessly, stepping inside with difficulty. "No..." he whispered, crouching in front of her.

"What... happened?" She sat in confusion, watching how his expression turned from regret to contained emotion. She reached out to his mask, hesitating before actually touching it. "Alfonse?"

He felt the mask slip away under her fingers, the silent 'clop' of it being placed carefully on the stone floor being forgotten by his ears.

Once again Kiran looked at his hardened face and painful expression. She placed part of his long bangs behind his ears, touching her forehead on his. "Are you alright?" She asked, feeling his uncertain fingers intertwine in hers, his eyes closing as though he had finally found home again.

He wanted to, he needed to-- but he shouldn't.

"Your rescue is on the way. They'll be here by dawn." He reported, almost mechanically so, refusing to open his eyes and face her; wanting to dive into her warmth one last time before sending her back to where she belonged.

Kiran could see how much he struggled, how much he suffered to be chained under this curse. He longed for the woman he loved -- never to touch her again for death had seen them apart. Yet there she was, right in front of him, pulsating with energy.

With life.

"Won't you hold me?" She gulped as she wrapped both arms around his neck, holding his face into her chest. "I- I'll find a way to save you, Alfonse." She whispered as he widened his eyes, the warmth of her heartbeat filling his ears. "I want you to be with me, to stay by my side."

"Enough," he pulled her closer to him, one hand by her waist. "Don't waste your breath with empty promises. Don't fill my dead heart with useless hope." He huffed, nudging his nose on hers, their cheeks a mix of cold and hot as their breaths intertwined.

"It's not useless," she grabbed his hair with both hands, digging her nails into his scalp as she opened her mouth to welcome him. "But now's not the time for words."

She felt his cold tongue slip into hers, sending a mix of sensations down her throat and into her heart -- she could feel his cold hands lift her measle string shirt and reveal her breasts, shivering under his icy touch.

His kiss was long and hungry, the taste of hers the first thing he had had ever since losing his life, so long ago. Kiran moaned his name as he slowly placed her down the myriad of blankets, never wanting to part with her lips.

His hands travelled from her nipples to her waist, pulling up the miniskirt she wore to reveal her underwear. His feverish touch making her roll her eyes in pleasure, the mix of hot and cold making her shiver and pulsate inside.

For the first time in his after-life, Líf had to breathe heavily, pulling away from the kiss so as to fill his lungs with air once again. "Kiran..." he whispered her name lovingly, placing kiss after kiss on her lips, then on her jaw, following to her ear.

"Hnn- A-Alfonse," she bemoaned, huffing for air as her eyes lost their focus.

The curse changed colors once again -- from blue to red, then to his natural skin color. He tried not to feel, not to succumb, but rubbing his bare skin on hers, to feel her increasingly hot body shiver under his touch drove him into accepting the life he had been denying inside of him.

He had taken off his gauntlets without her noticing, his bare fingers, mixed with curse and real flesh, touching her over her underwear.

"Ah!" She squirmed with pleasure, making Líf bite her neck so as to come into terms that he felt an erection rising.

Blood was coursing through his veins once again -- he felt his body alive, even though the blue curse still shone through his bones. He felt it pulsate urgently, craving to be engulfed in Kiran's warmth, in her hottest insides.

His cold fingers slipped into her panties, reacquainting themselves with her layout -- they moved as though he had never forgotten her body in the first place; touching and nipping at the places he remembered she enjoyed the most.

Kiran shivered under his touch, her body hot enough for both of them as he inserted one cold finger into her: it was a magical sensation to say the least. It was cold, but he moved with swiftness and tenderness, making her twitch around him and suck him in with everything she had.

"A-Alfonse," she said so meekly she almost begged, pulling him towards her for another feverish kiss. This time he felt like he didn't need to hold anything back: he dove into her taste and sucked into her tongue, wanting to claim it all for himself.

For all eternity, even if it only lasted one night.

His fingers kept going in and out of her, pleasuring her until she couldn't make coherent words anymore; she simply drunkenly called his name and nipped at his lips, wanting more.

Her body wouldn't be satisfied with only fingers.

"P-please," she begged for the third time, her lower body shivering with pleasure, almost at the breaking point. "Alfonseee," she cried out as he massaged her clitoris, relishing on her weak voice by his ear.

"Kiran," he called her name over and over, licking the nape of her neck and leaving mark upon mark on her. "Hah, hah... my Kiran." He huffed as he released his erection from his tight pants, feeling it bump on the thin, drenched fabric of her underwear.

Kiran gulped with anticipation, opened her legs further to welcome him inside of her. She panted, pulling his lips towards hers so they could share another long, deep kiss as he pulled her underwear to the side, prodding his erection in place.

"Alfons-aaahnn...!" She cried out loudly, his might much more than what she expected, her eyes rolling in pleasure.

"I lov-" he whispered under her moans, falling into her deaf ears as he finally declared the feelings he had locked away for so long. "Mine. My Kiran." He groaned in pleasure, his entire body regaining its living warmth once again.

Kiran felt his cold erection rip inside her, pleasing her in ways she never thought possible. The more he thrusted, the warmer it became, to the point of making her feel like she was on fire -- the fire of his feelings for her, the fire of her awakened feelings for him.

He thrusted deep and fast, pounding at her sensitive spot as though he had done it a thousand times before. Helpless to his might, Kiran simply dug her nails into his scalp again, taking everything she had to cling herself into reality, her body almost transcending due to pleasure.

She felt her heart being poured with his tenderness and love; her body being showered by his might and strength. Her insides shook and twitched with pleasure as he went in and out, in and out.

The rhythm of their love-making made Kiran let out the most memorable moans Líf had ever heard her utter, his mind dutifully committing everything to memory for the future.

He never thought his body, devoid of feeling for so many decades, could reach a climax once again, but he wouldn't mistake that feeling for anything: his body shivered, his senses snapped, his mind wanted to mindlessly thrust until Kiran screamed his name and only his.

She felt her own approaching as he accelerated his movements, her body never wanting it to stop, but needing to share that moment with him -- together, they felt their bodies shiver and twitch in pleasure at the same time, his fluids being released freely inside of her.

Panting, as her lower parts pulsated with pleasure, Kiran's arms fell limp on the side, the rough love-making taking all the energy she had managed to build up that previous day.

"Alfonse..." she moaned weakly as consciousness evaded her, her body still wanting to be ravished more and more. "I'll bring you to our side... I swear I will."

Smiling for what it felt like the first time, Líf picked the adored tuft of hair Kiran always messed with and kissed it, never wanting to pull out from inside of her. "I will not believe such wishful promises, but I'll hold onto this night for the rest of my days... my Kiran."

#líf #feh #líf x summoner #kiran #kiralfonse #fire emblem heroes #summoner #i'm crying i cant believe i wrote it #my writings #i'm THIRSTY FOR ONE GLOWY MAN #the target audience is me #a sin a day keeps the thirst at bay #whoops forgot the sin tag

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