#me loving everything that comes out of kiran's mouth

[howtotrainyouragents]

Channeling all my extrovertedness into my DnD character

[aestheticitii]

"marry me."

"did you think i'd marry you without a ring?" kiran teases. [alfonse/kiran]

content tags: pure sickening fluff and a proposal lol

notes: was in the mood for something short and fluffy as a break from all the longer oneshots i keep trying to write

alfonse looks up from the open notebook on kiran's lap at the woman herself, drawing his knees closer to his chest.

her smile, bright and cheerful, when she asks his opinion and the way she animatedly dissects the dresses she and his sister were looking over this morning for the annual wedding brawl festival—the same one commander anna attempted to win in order to sell its winning prize the first year—makes it easy for his mind to start wandering to thoughts he shouldn't be vocalizing.

and to that the fact that he hasn't seen her in a while, because of the duties that keep piling up on both their plates, and what happens next is no surprise.

the thoughts—all following a similar line of reasoning about how desperately he wants to go back to when they were younger and he could monopolize her time at odd times without much trouble, without fear of scandal or leftover paperwork—condense into only two words, which slip out of his mouth by accident. and they come out as a soft whisper that his lover would ordinarily overlook in the midst of her cute babbling, though lady luck does not side with him today.

dark brown eyes, once fixated on the rough sketches of various wedding dresses, lock onto his blue ones. their (beautiful) owner tucks a strand of similarly-colored hair behind her ears, leaving her hand there, and smiles something that can barely be called a smile—a twitch of her lips that seems to be at odds with the embarrassment and concern that makes her eyes shine.

"did you say something?" she asks, allowing her hand to slip out of her long hair. it comes to rest neatly on her lap, rather than the page it once rested on. "i didn't catch that."

in the midst of battling his own concern—well aware what a momentous occasion it is that the woman who spent her teen years pretending she didn't want to marry anyone is entrusting him with actual, tangible thoughts about her dream wedding, beyond who the groom will be and how his sister is definitely going to cry—the words stupidly slip out of his lips once more.

"marry me."

the corner of the page she was in the middle of turning slips between her fingers, and the page falls back into place. surprise makes her lips part and her eyes widen—makes her drag her other hand onto her lap too and clasp the two together as she looks down.

if you want to.

his short-circuiting brain lacks the means to differentiate between a thought and something spoken out loud at first—and when it calms down, recognizing what happened, his throat lacks the means to free the words caught there.

but then she looks up and her expression changes.

narrowed eyes and a soft smile; that alone is enough to relax the weight bearing down on his shoulder.

"i can't do that," she says, closing her book.

the weight comes back, in the different form, as a heavy stone in his stomach, even as the more rational part of him understands that her words are only a set up for some punchline—probably about how they've been lovers for only a few months. though in his defense, he's been in love with her for years now.

his gloved hand grasps onto the mess on the bed that is her beloved blanket and pulls it closer to him, as though it'll bring him some measure of comfort.

his blue eyes don't leave her form for a single moment.

she swings her legs to the right, scooting closer to him. her hand comes to rest on his cheek and for a moment, when he sees her loving expression, he forgets everything.

which explains why, only a second later, he feels so betrayed when she pinches his cheek hard.

"did you think i'd marry you without a ring?" kiran teases. she's laughing as she presses a kiss to his cheek, in the exact spot where she pinched it. "it's like you're expecting me to do all the work."

alfonse performs his part admirably, rubbing his cheek once to start an attempt to let her know how deeply her betrayal cut. when it comes time to pout and glare, his lips mistake the order for a smile, and his eyes, for a loving gaze.

he exhales through his nose, rolling his eyes fondly at the (very beautiful) woman smiling brightly at him.

"but you'll marry me if i give you the ring, right?" he asks, as if he doesn't already know the answer from the way she takes his hand in hers.

she laughs, in a way that, despite his reading habits, he can only describe as prettily.

"of course, that part was never in question," kiran tells him, punctuating the end of her sentence by resting her head on his shoulder. "so make sure you find one soon, 'kay?"

[butchkaramazov]

A Shade Darker Than Red: Chapter 6.5 (Part 2)

Chapter 6.5 (Part 1)

I stopped in front of the ice-cream seller, unfastening the helmet from my head. “Do you have rabri kulfi, uncle?” I asked in Bangla.

The man nodded. “How many?”

I gestured towards the gang, who were screeching to a halt beside me.  “Five will do—and one kesar pista kulfi, please,” I answered the ice-cream seller as I climbed off the scooter, helping Paro off. She wrinkled her nose, raising an eyebrow. I booped her nose, watching a smile spread over her face. 

“How did you know I’d want a kesar pista today?” she asked, rubbing her nose.

I shrugged. “I know you better than I know myself.”

Paro laughed. “Dork,” she whispered, raising herself on her toes to whisper it into my ears.

I turned to see Madhu being held back by Rathode, who looked like he was about to burst into a fit of giggles.

“What are they doing?” Paro asked, wrinkling her nose. I almost wanted to boop it again, except I was sure that this time, Madhu would explode into tiny hearts.

“Dominance practice,” I replied dryly.

“Hey!” Rathode cried as Kiran and Prarthana erupted into loud guffaws. Paro stared at me incredulously for a second before snorting.

The ice-cream man handed us our kulfis each as Kiran handed him the money. “Last time, Prarthana treated us,” they said. “Hands off of your own wallets.”

“You’re only paying for this one so another one of us has to pay at an expensive restaurant,” Madhu teased.

Kiran pressed a hand to their chest. “I’m offended,” they said, looking delighted.

Paro chuckled. “I like your friends.”

“I mean, I don’t exactly have a return slip, so it’s hard for me to agree,” I teased. Prarthana elbowed me in the ribs.

“Parvati, come on! We have so much to talk about!” Madhu cried. “Tell us every embarrassing story about Renu.”

As Paro walked towards them, I noticed a saunter in her hips. Her waist-length hair was tied up in a ponytail, a few strands sticking to her neck in the heat. She was still wearing a plaid white shirt and brown trousers, while the anklets still jingled around her ankles. The veins showed in her hands, and I wondered how desperately she had been practising bharatanatyam. Perhaps it was what poetry was to me, a desperate lifeline, something to cling on to with every step, every jingle of the anklet.

As I watched her talk to them, her spine straight and a polite smile on her face, something inside me shattered.

I don’t know what. All I know is while I had my rabri kulfi, a sharp ache kept throbbing in my chest. And then came the red.

Red. Red. Red. Red.

Red, and not even Paro could stop it this time.

This was what the Red was like, engulfing me at random times. I could be at my sister’s birthday party having the time of my life (albeit dressed as a clown) and suddenly, the Red would come. Slowly but surely, starting from the corner of my eye to the entirety of everything I knew and loved—it would come, with its silent footsteps.

I glanced at Paro. She was already looking at me, a worried expression on her face.

I’m okay, I heard myself say. Go on, Paro. Talk to them. They’re good guys.

Paro called my name. Renu, at the back of my mind. Renu, they’re great, but you need to be here, too.

No I don’t, I heard the Red speak for me. 

Madhu and Rathode turned slowly towards me, worry coating their features. Madhu brushed his hair out of his eyes, calling out my name. 

Prarthana looked at me with widened eyes. She opened her mouth and she might’ve said something, but it didn’t make a difference.

The only voice I could hear right then was that of Paro. Renu, Renu, Renu. Renu, are you okay? Renu, is it happening again? Renu, do you want to go home?

I smiled. The world was spinning, but I didn’t care. As long as Paro kept calling my name like I was the only thing that mattered, I would be okay.

Something—someone—touched my shoulder, and the Red was sucked back into my chest. I stumbled backwards, almost bumping into a stranger. I turned to apologise, but I couldn’t bring myself to form coherent speech.

“Renu,” I heard someone say. Someone who smelled like incense and looked like the goddess Parvati. “Renu.” Paro.

Paro, Paro, Paro. 

I opened my eyes, staring right into Paro’s face. Her brown eyes frantically searched for a flicker of red in mine, her hands gripping my shoulders like I was the only thing she had left.

“Paro,” I said. Paro, Paro, Paro.

Paro breathed a sigh of relief. “Renu,” she exhaled. “How are you feeling?”

My hands were cold and beads of sweat rolled down my forehead. Paro raised the back of her hand and touched my forehead, pulling her arm back with a gasp.

“Renu,” she said, “you’re burning up.”

“But she was fine just a few minutes ago!” Prarthana said, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“No, I’m fine,” I said, pushing Paro’s hand away. “Just zoned out for a second.”

“You’re red,” Kiran observed. “And sweaty,” Rathode offered.

I rolled my eyes. “Thanks a lot, guys.”

Paro pursed her lips. “You shouldn’t have come.”

“But you called.”

“You just had a panic attack,” she snapped. “I’m not worth that much,” she said, her voice softening.

I frowned. “Shut up.”

“Why?”

“You’re worth it. To me.”

Silence.

I half expected Madhu to erupt into a fit of giggles, but he stayed silent, scrutinising my every movement. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

I grinned. “Never been better.”

Prarthana clapped my back. “No lying will be tolerated here, idiot.”

I pouted. “I’m telling you, I’ll be amazing right after I have my rabri kulfi!”

“Uhm—about that,” Kiran said, pointing towards my rabri kulfi—or what was left of it—splattered on the pavement. I groaned, stumbling back into Paro’s arms.

“Don’t worry, Renu, you can have my kesar pista,” she said, catching me before I could bump into another unsuspecting stranger.

I shook my head. “I can’t,” I whined. “It’s your favourite!”

“Of course you can,” Paro said, her voice stern. “We’ll share.”

I stared at her, my jaw slackening. 

Madhu’s gaze flickered between Paro and me. “Yeah, you could share,” he said in a small voice. Prarthana glared at him. “Get your headgear first, boy,” she muttered so only Madhu and I could hear.

Paro slowly uncurled my clenched fingers and placed the kulfi’s stick in my palm. “Have a bite, go on,” she said. I felt like I was living in a fever dream. We had always shared food, why was this any different?

Rathode cleared his throat. “I wish my boyfriend was this gentle with me,” he said in a sing-song voice. Madhu went red.

“Oh come on,” Kiran said. “He’s gentle with you in many ways. You’re rougher.”

“Yeah, in the bedroom,” I muttered, absent-mindedly taking a bite out of the kulfi. Ouch. Brain freeze.

It must’ve shown on my face, because Paro gently smacked me on the back of my head. “Idiot,” she muttered, looking at me like I was the stupidest thing she’d ever seen. I’d never get tired of that stare, would I?

Prarthana kept sucking on her kulfi. She stared at Kiran in a way that made them blush. They glanced at me, a bashful smile on their lips. I grinned back, gesturing towards Prarthana with my eyes. Go on, make a move.

Rathode’s hand was absent-mindedly roaming over the expanse of Madhu’s neck, a shiver running down his spine; whether from the freezing kulfi or Rathode’s hand, I didn’t want to know.

I smiled absent-mindedly, looking at my friends. I had grown up with them, our laughter had often annoyed the teachers to no end and echoed throughout the long hallways of the school’s corridor. And now, as they each fell in love one by one, I could only hear one name echoing throughout my mind, a name that made no sense but then, paradoxically, it was the only thing that made sense in my world of Red. Paro.

As if on cue, Paro gently took the kulfi from me and took a bite out of it. She hummed contentedly, leaving a lipstick mark on the edge of the kulfi.

It was only when I looked up that I noticed she had been looking at me for a little too long, a content smile on her lips.

@avani-amulya @manujanolavu @nirmohi-premika @lovesickpdf @arachneofthoughts @sonilaalbindi @desi-yearning @alhad-si-simran @thatpagalchokri @trashmeowcan @waitingforthesunrise @vellibandi @thesunandstarss @chanda-chamke-cham-cham @damnn-dorothea @the-unhinged-fanwinggg @watchingblsnowandforever @disproportionatelysculpting @bundle-of-glitter please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist <3

[shiprasworld]

Requested!

« ... My big brother's marriage got fixed and was in next 20 days, so my mother asked me to come for help. I informed my husband and inlaws and came to my parents place to help in wedding.

As there was little time we got to work, I was paired with my big bro for shopping and other outside works. We wrapped up inside two days.

Kiran: Bro are you asleep?

Imran: Kiran! Not yet, you in my room this late. What happened, everything fine?

Kiran: Need to talk to you about something i noticed in these two days. I found you were checking out my rack and were ogling at my butt while i was busy shopping for your marriage.

Imran: What are you saying Kiran? You are mistaken. How can i do it? You are my sister.

Kiran: Stop it Bro! don't deny, i have been observing you for past 2 days. Atleast open up now Bro! I know you had a thing for me since we were teens but i didn't know that you still have these thoughts. You could have got all you wanted back then itself, you just needed to ask. Fine Bro! now you dont need to ask, consider this as your wedding gift from your loving little sister. I opened my jacket and pants, crawled onto his bed just in my inners as gifted myself to him.

Imran: Wow Kiran, such a thoughtful gift am already loving the sight of it. Quickly disrobed and went to bed where my gift was waiting to be claimed.

Kiran: He kissed my lips for few minutes and then went down on me. Slowly tormenting my pussy with his tongue and increased his sucking pace, within minutes i came in his mouth. He drank all of my pussy juice. I then returned the favor by sucking his huge thick cock for about 15mins then he lifted me and pushed on top of bed and jumped on me positioning his cock on my pussy and pushed it inside me with one hard stroke and i cried out loud. He was like a raging bull with lust thrusting raw into me with wanton desire. He ravaged my pussy for about half an hour before groaned loud and deposited his full load of baby batter inside me. He slid off me and lay next to me, i put my head on his chest as we were regaining our breath.

Imran: After recouping for about 20 mins i said, Kiran you are the best fuck of my life. I have never fucked anyone like that and probably cannot even in future. You have a great body and you are just awesome sister. Thanks Kiran for having sex with me, it's a dream come true to fuck you and your body. Sorry kiran for fucking you raw, i know you should be sore down there.

Kiran: Bro don't call it fucking, you simply used and abused my pussy. No one even fucks a whore like that, but i loved it. No one has used me like you did, It was just raw and completely filled with your lust for me. Even though it's sore down, i enjoyed that someone lusts for me and desires me so bad even if it's my big bro. I can understand you were totally possessed and consumed in your lust for me when you got the opportunity, all those years of your pent up lust just exploded.

Imran: Kiran you are an amazing sister and you understand me so well. It's pretty late sister you should go back to your room before someone sees us naked together in my bed.

Kiran: Are you done with me Bro, in just an hour? I thought that you will use this golden opportunity and pound me all night long. Just small info big bro, my pussy was just an add on. The actual gift i wanted to gift you is my ass. I know you are an ass man and really love my ass. The icing on cake is its untouched till now, I am still virgin there. Would like to pop my anal cherry and claim your gift 😉?

Imran: Wow Kiran today you are giving surprises one after another, you are really making my day. I am getting everything all that i wanted in my life and didn't even think it was ever possible.

Kiran: I see you are already ready and quite excited. Imran i have thoroughly washed my ass for you and please be gentle, it's my first time don't ravage it like you did to my pussy.

Imran: Sure sister don't worry i will be gentle.

Kiran: He then turned me on my fours and bent down and put his face between my ass cheeks and smelled my but hole then i felt his tongue on my butt hole and slowly started licking it and after couple of minutes he started eating my ass furiously and the feel and pleasure was heavenly and unmatched.

Imran: After eating her ass for about 10mins i said Kiran please suck my cock and lubricant it so that i can penetrate inside. She quickly took in her mouth and nicely sucked and slurped on my dick and made it wet and nicely lubricated with her saliva.

Kiran: Go slowly big brother, be gentle and don't hurt my ass please. He smiled and went behind me and gave a nice spank on my ass and i moaned loudly. I felt the pressure of his tip pushing on my butt hole, my virgin butt hole was too small for his huge thick cock. After trying for couple of minutes he gave up and told your shit hole is too small for me to penetrate. I was disappointed as i thought finally i can have anal sex which my hubby doesn't like and refuses to do. I asked in disappointed tone, so what do we do now bro? This means can't I even give the gift which my brother likes the most?

Imran: Don't worry little sister, let's prepare you up for this. I went to cupboard and brought a lube and squeezed handful and applied in her but and slowly inserted middle finger and started moving in and out and she started moaning. Slowly one after other i pushed 3 fingers and started fingering her butt by pouring more lube for better lubrication. After 15 mins of fingering i poured more lube in the ass and applied on my dick and slowly pushed into her. After couple of mins my head went past her hole and she withered in pain but asked me to continue. Slowly i managed to push my entire length inside her and it took next 15 minutes for her to adjust to my size and slow movements. Thought to myself, thank god i already had a round and deposited my entire load in her otherwise i would have already cum by now as her ass was really tight and literally squeezing and milking my cock.

Kiran: Wow big bro this is better than what i thought it would be. It hurt a bit initially because of your sheer size and thickness but now it's the most pleasurable moment in my life. I thought anal sex would be good but never expected to feel this good bro. Now that we passed the difficult part, time to start the good part - "fuck my ass".

Imran: Once she gave green sign i start to move in and out of her slowly and then after sometime increased the pace.

Kiran: My moaning increased and became louder as well. It's been half an hour since he started pounding my ass and both of us were exhausted as well as profusely sweating, but both of us didn't want to stop it. I kept on moaning and shouting "Fuck your lil sister's ass bro, fuck it, fuck it harder Bro!". He couldn't take it and started pounding and banging my ass with all his force and after 15min i felt my release coming and shouted "Bro! your lil sister is cumming, cum with me" and i felt him releasing his load in my butt hole at the same time and we synced our orgasms.

Imran: I rolled off and lay next to her and took her in my arms. Both of us were exhausted i lifted her head and was greeted with a an exhausted but satisfied smile on her face. Her beauty was a sight to behold. She was glistening in the afterglow of our sex, naked and all the sweat and the prespiration giving her the extra sheen which is adding to her glow. Her exhausted look coupled with satisfied smile is an icing on the cake. I took her face and kissed her lips tenderly with love and tightly hugged her body against mine.

Kiran: Big Bro! you were the best brother anyone can have and i wanted to give you the best gift for your marriage and after i found you checking my body i decided to give myself to you. But i was not completely sure and thought i might regret my decision later but still i wanted you to be happy so i decided to go ahead. Now i can say that, i will never regret this decision. You are what a women want her man to be in bed. Your wife is lucky to have you. I really can't express how great i am feeling now, this feeling is surreal. I don't want this feeling to end now, hope you don't mind me sleeping with you, you hugging me naked all night ... »

[pangtasias-atelier]

The Summoner’s New Drug

This was originally conceived as a joke between me and tumbyrumblings except I kinda wrote a lot and kept going lol. Though I feel like I wrote a whole lotta nothing despite this being 4k words abjsbjbbs 

Please know that any inaccuracies is cause I meant it that way lmao. Story involves the obvious three characters at ridiculously large sizes

"They're brownies," Corrin softly chimes in from his seat in the corner, his downcast eyes focusing on his warm chamomile tea instead.

"And what exactly is so special about these…" Grima trails off with a grimace. A plate of freshly baked brownies held in Kiran's hands, Grima eyes them warily as if concocted to destroy him.

"We have nothing like that in Phoenicis," Tibarn stands behind Kiran. He inquisitively glances down at the baked goods. A quick sniff relays enough information on his lack of knowledge on the dessert. "Chocolate huh. Those Begnion pigs loved that stuff,"

"Unsurprisingly, Corrin's the only one to really know about this kind of stuff," Kiran gives a small sigh before going on to inform them. "They're brownies. A nice little gooey, fudgy, chocolaty sweet. And they're special because I baked them myself! Doubly so since they're pot brownies,"

Upon the sudden adjective, Grima and Tibarn both turn towards Corrin. "I've never heard of that word before," He curves his tail closer to himself, not exactly appreciating the attention.

"They've got weed in them," Kiran clarifies. With a lack of a reaction, he divulges further. "You smoke it to feel good but you can also use it in food?" All three of them simply stare at him with morbid curiosity, none of them understanding the summoner. He lets out an exaggerated sigh before placing down the tray of goods. Grabbing a notebook he roughly sketches out the plant.

"Ah, you mean bud," Tibarn is the first one to respond. "I didn't think you'd know of such a thing. I used to enjoy it from time to time with Ulki and Janaff growing up,”

"That's the devil's grass," Corrin adds, now eyeing the brownies warily.

Kiran holds back a small snicker. "Oh come now; this is nothing so morbid like that. It's perfectly harmless and it makes you feel pretty nice,"

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Familiar with it, only in a different form, Tibarn shrugs his shoulders without a care. Grabbing one of the brownies, he merely takes a simple sniff before heartily chomping into the delicacy. “Mmm, you’ve outdone yourself,” Tibarn takes another quick two bites to finish it, a content thumbs up thrown Kiran’s way. “Heh, don’t mind if I take another one, right?” His eyelids drooping, Tibarn doesn’t wait for a response; instead he grabs two at once, one in each hand. He lets out a small, breathy chuckle. He stares at his hands while he continues to munch, as if each digit contained limitless knowledge possessed by Ashunera.

"Who cares about a weed concoction? It is yet another pointless distraction meant to please you pathetic worms," Grima skulks about as ever. Unwilling to partake in merriment enjoyed by others, he keeps his arms crossed.

“I guess you’re right,” Kiran sighs. He turns his back towards Grima. “Alfonse did like these, so I should save some for him if you won’t eat any,” As he goes to walk towards the plate, Kiran already has a grin forming on his face while he waits for his plan to work.

“That pathetic princeling has no need or right of anything that is yours,” And work it does as Grima barrels past Kiran in a frantic rush to reach the brownies. Only wishing to deny someone else enjoyment, Grima angrily takes a bite of the brownie. Chocolate smears his lips. “Much less anything that is mine,,, ooh,” The sweet brownie dances on his tongue. A faint blush forming on his face, Grima’s shoulders lose their tension as they slack. “Perhaps I was mistaken. This weed thing is good,” Grima licks the chocolate smeared all over his teeth, desperate to not let a single gram go. “What was I even complaining about?” Grima’s eyes turn a bit red, the effect seemingly instantaneous.

“I think I’ll pass,” Corrin remains in his secure little corner; he continuously passes concerned glances at Tibarn and Grima.

“Oh come on. It’s not even bad for you,” Having already gotten two out of three, Kiran becomes pushy, pushing the drug onto Kiran. “They’ve only got a small amount” Standing over Corrin’s seated form, he towers over the petite dragon.

“I’m…” As Corrin mulls over on what to do, a voice suddenly pops into his head. ‘You know, my wife Nancy has a saying. Tell ‘em Nancy!’ Corrin’s mind is perfectly silent for a fraction of a second as it waits for another voice to join in. ‘Just say no!’ Corrin stares at the brownie in Kiran’s hand, his willpower marginally renewed from the voices of ghosts not from his world.

Seeing Corrin push back, Kiran pipes up more. “Everyone else is doing it. Just be cool about it,” Holding the brownie right in front of Corrin’s face, Kiran keeps a neutral expression. “Just try it,”

“Fine,” He brushes a bit of his hair to the side as he responds. Corrin trepidatiously accepts the brownie from Kiran, as if it were going to explode in his hand. His stomach churns and toils. He takes a few deep breaths to psyche himself up. Lifting the confection to his mouth, he takes a lil nibble of it. He nods his head in agreement, his body gently swaying to the side in clear enjoyment of it. “This is actually good,” He still takes small nibbles of it but each consecutive bite is always a bit larger than the last. A puff of air comes out his nose in a definite sign of contentment. By the time he finishes his first brownie, he grabs another one to peck at. He makes himself comfortable as he lies down on the couch. He stares at the plain empty ceiling. His mind relaxing, a myriad of shapes and colors that he never knew existed bounce around on the ceiling.

“You guys hungry?” Asking as innocuous as he can be, Kiran already knows the answer to his own question. “You boys wait right here, I’ll be right back with some snacks,” A chorus of hmms sound out as he saunters out the room. Kiran grabs the already prepared cart of food placed right beside the door. Waiting a few minutes, afraid to perhaps come off as too prepared and give something away, he comes right back inside after his self imposed time is up. “I figured you might be a bit peckish, so I got some snacks for you all,” Grima TIbarn and Corrin alike are all too faded to give much of a response besides another round of humms. Kiran doles out snacks to them, the three hungry men snacking away.

His plan on introducing the drug working exactly as planned, Kiran goes onto phase two. Not planning to crack down on them with unjust and pointless laws meant to harm minorities and benefit those in power, the second part of his plan is fundamentally the exact same as the first part; introduce more and more of the drug and let things take their natural course. As natural as the course can be with him being in charge of it all now.

All three perfectly chill and calm ever since having their first taste of weed in Askr, as befitting the effects of marijuana, they all feel another much more important side effect. Well, important to Kiran. The munchies. Addicted to it, all of them are constantly doped up on dope. They simply laze about throughout the entirety of their day, their days now filled with weed and food. Completely lacking awareness from being high all the time, they easily allow it. The pot brownie the gateway drug into other variants, Kiran introduces them to gummies, weed beverages, before even having most of their food contain it once their bodies build up enough of a resistance to it. Marijuana ice cream, weed milk, weed infused lobster, weed mac n cheese, weed gravy, anything and everything, upon hearing it contains weed, Grima Tibarn and Corrin clammer to try it. The more weed in their system, the fiercer the growing pit in their stomach demands food, the munchies taking a tighter grip on their bodies.

Their trim bodies gain an inkling of a pot belly, a trim sliver of pudge forming on the lowest part of their abdomen. That promptly thickens with a bit more time, said sliver of pudge blossoming into a full fledged gut, their arms gaining a bit of circumference all around as do their legs, their appendages getting a bit closer and compressed to their chunky middle. Over time, their usual outfits grow snug in places never before; shirts tighten around their swelling middles, pants constrict their jiggly thighs, and sleeves compress their flabby arms. Too faded to care, their addled brained minds preferring to fixate on satiating their cravings, they simply adorn their tight clothes even as those seem more akin to rags as their burgeoning bodies outgrow them near completely. They lack a single concern in the world with Kiran providing them all the weed and food they could want. Lazing and grazing about their only objective each day, all three’s activity spike down to near nonexistence. The only activity they get is shifting around a few times a day and the semi occasional walk to another location to space out and enjoy their environment, like the castle’s gardens or the lake. But even that minimal effort of movement begins to die down over time, their widening waistlines proving too taxing to bother themselves.

Moving past fat to obesity, Tibarn’s upper figure is the most prominent part of himself. A veritable gut rolls down his tree trunk thighs. The lowest roll of flab nearly reaches all the way down to his swollen calves. Each ponderous step Tibarn takes, the few that he has to, causes the great flabby beast to sway to and fro before undulating from the deep, heavy breaths he takes afterwards from the exertion. His defined pecs look like they never existed on his figure, two pendulous sagging breasts plunging to the side of his mountain of a gut. His arms are wider than the average heroe’s thighs, the doughy sagging arms constantly at an angle from the upper rolls of his torso. His once angular face lacks any sort of severity to it, Tibarn’s now cherubic face taken up by his puffed out cheeks and multiple squished together necks. His ass respectable in its own rights, the shapeless mounds for an ass sag down.

“About..” TIbarn takes a moment to catch his breath, his cheeks puffing out. “time,” Seated on a couch, Tibarn’s immensity takes up the entirety of it, his girthy love handles oozing out onto the armrests. Not a single space left on the seating, his gut rolls off of it and his thighs. The couch sags at the center from his crushing weight.

“Can’t keep you waiting for too long, big guy,” Kiran places a hand on Tibarn’s sprawling gut before rubbing slow circles on it, the immensity of his flab caving in from the slight pressure. “Brought you your favorites,” Handing him a tray consisting of meat, meat, and some more meat, Kiran places it on the titanic shelf of his chest. Kiran also hands him weed gushers. He pats Tibarn’s gut, the mass of fat wobbling in return. Tibarn promptly digs in as soon as his overly laden arms reach the plate of food.

Heading towards Corrin, the once constantly worried dragon is much more relaxed and chilled out. Used to some manners, he continues to sit at the now comparatively tiny table in the room. His body filled out everywhere, his plush rotund body bulges out with fat all over. One chair can no longer withstand his crushing weight, so now he sits on an entire three, the sides of his ass spilling off the sides of them. The inner rivets of his thighs curve inward from the fat piled onto them only for his great gut to smother the entirety of them under its weight. His flab digs into the table, his plush fat seeping above and below it despite it not being as massive as Tibarn’s. His breasts somehow retain a sense of form to them, his juicy, plump chest resting atop his gut.

“How’re you doing?” Kiran comes up from behind, placing a gentle hand on Kiran’s should as he walks around his obese form. “Hungry or anything?”

“I’m fine,” Corrin lets out a small sigh, his fat face giving a contented smile. His nose perks as the wafts of what Kiran is carrying reaches his nostrils. More weed arriving, Corrin’s gut involuntarily grumbles, a deep cavernous rumble shaking his entire body. “Actually,” Corrin pauses, embarrassed to admit his needs.

“I got you covered,” Kiran ruffles the top of Corrin’s hair. He places a plate atop his buxom chest. A spread of food, all of them contain fair amounts of weed. Knowing Corrin will wait a few seconds before stuffing himself, Corrin goes to check on Grima.

The fat fell dragon sitting on a mattress, the cushion offers no real purpose besides customary, Grima’s massive ass oozing off the edges of it. His titanic door crushing thighs remain plastered onto the mattress. The wide, gargantuan appendages spread over the entirety of the mattress. His gut nowhere near as exaggeratedly big as his lower half, the doughy mass of fat rests comfortably atop his thighs. His generous chest lurches forward down onto his heaping stomach, his line of neck rolls and chins resting above said chest. His fat addled arms are at a constant angle from the jutting fat from both his torso and his arms. “And why am,” Grima lets out a groan to catch his breath. “I last?”

Kiran wasting no time waiting, he steps to the side of Grima with a plate ready as well. “Cause I knew you could hold on a bit longer for me. And besides, I'm here right now aren't I?” Kiran places a plate full of nothing but sweets. Each confection is chock full of cannabutter, exactly to Grima’s liking.

Stepping back, he takes an appreciative look of all three’s bloated bodies. Not quite yet immobile, their bodies holding out a bit longer than expected, Kiran’s brain whits as he imagines their obese figures even bigger, said image only a matter of time.

The time coming very quickly, it doesn’t take much longer for the three of them to find themselves unable to get up. Unconcerned from before when moving was already taxing, they display the exact same lack of concern on the same day they can’t get up. And still, they continue to eat and grow. What is once the beginning somewhat resemblant of a body immobility eventually turns into shapeless immobile blobs. Clothes go completely forgone, the amount of fabric needed to cover a single mountain of a gut astronomical. Furniture gets swallowed under their lard, mattresses and couches alike unable to withstand and withhold copious amounts of flab. Space diminishes. With not one. not two, but three pathetically food addicted and weed addicted men, their ever flowing flab presses up against not only itself but against each other with only so much space in the room to go around. So much fat swaddling their entire forms, legs and arms become useless, the appendages becoming buried in a sea of flab. All too eager to keep on eating, the bulging walls are of absolutely no concern when their fat builds and pushes against all four corners of the room. Flab busting down a wall and seeping out in desperation of more room only earns a sigh of relief from them with more breathing room. The ever increasing rolls making up a chin eventually seem to meld together. A tire of fat forms around their fat faces. A handful of heaping rolls lining their stomach become two handfuls into even more, more and more fat piling on top of their corpulent frames. Where once a room was sufficient to house all three immobile piles of lard, soon it becomes a room plus a hallway. Then it turns into multiple rooms before half an entire wing is necessary. Eventually, they take up the entirety of said wing only to require even more space with their ever constantly fattening forms. Soon, the entirety of Askr castle becomes uninhabitable with the looming threat of the three blobs burying the castle under a cascading blanket of lard.

Askr castle now entirely devoid of any sign of people besides three blobs, the only sound one can hear is the churning of overtaxed machines as they perform their best to keep feeding their users. One machine per person is no longer sufficient, each of them requiring two to sate their black hole of a stomach. In what is presumably the throne room, a location Kiran can only guess from how big his heroes’ have gotten, what with any and all furniture destroyed and smothered by their fat, Grima’s big bloated body greedily guzzles away at his liquid food. His hands and legs are equally smothered under titanic fat rolls. His pale blubbery legs have absolutely no definition or shape to them, the oozing oceanic thighs splaying out on both sides around him. A sea of rolls making them up, each thigh alone rivals the size of an average room. So much fat stacked on top of fat, they even give Grima some height to his billowing, massively wide frame. Not that it means much when he’s over six times as wide as he is tall. His ass melding into his thighs, there is no distinction on where exactly they separate from his thighs. The back wall of the throne room bulges outward from the substantial weight pressing onto it. The side wall is already destroyed from his thighs. His stomach able to house, well a house, the big lake of fat comfortably slots itself in between and atop his thighs. His breasts divot down to the sides of his gut, each of them alone larger than an actual person. Tibarn visible in Kiran’s peripheral vision, at least one of the three immobile blobs visible even when far away from the castle, it takes Kiran a whole 50 meters to walk from the center of Grima’s body to Tibarn’s center.. Tibarn the unfortunate one to be stuck in the middle of the three, he took the role with gusto. Unwilling to let himself be outdone, his body gushes outward onto Grima’s and Corrin’s. So immensely fat, three tubes are stuck inside his mouth at all times, his fat cheeks cascading down onto his shoulders. A multitude of chins stacked on top of each other, the rings of fat sag all the way down to where his plunging chest is. Each breast so massively bloated with fat, his great big tits reach far down his stomach. A great feat considering Tibarn’s stomach alone could fill up a library twice over. So many rolls riddling his stomach, they all blend and mix in with his overtaxed thighs and ass, Tibarn’s body hard to tell where each part ends and another starts. His thighs mostly smothered by his absolutely mountainous stomach the appendage somehow manage to look comparatively small despite their overwhelmingly large size. Kiran walks another 55 meters to reach Corrin’s gut. Corrin the runt of the three, his body still puts a pack of elephants to shame. His body once holding out on keeping a semblance of a figure, now he is nothing but a bunch of fat laden rolls of a blob. His arms completely useless, the two rotund cylindrical columns of fat splay out to the sides of his engorged body. His back fat and neck rolls encroach his face, a bit of his hair obstructed by the growing mass of fat. On the right, most of his body takes up the entirety of a single wing where they first got addicted to weed. So massively big that he alone takes it up, Corrin’s gut and thighs are equally impressive. Able to cover far more than a dozen mattresses, his tonnage goes where it pleases, overtaking the few furniture not crushed under one of the three’s weight.

Returning from his own world, Kiran sighs with pleasure. Buying out an entire store, he holds a mere fraction of his pull. “I brought some more weed for you all,” He speaks into a small mic, the three unable to hear him from the gushing sounds of their guzzling without a speaker placed by their sinking faces of fat. The mere mention of the drug gets all of them going, the poor machines whirring even harder as they greedily suck on their slop of feeding tubes. “This is the life,” Kiran smiles to himself with a few stretches to prepare himself for the taxing climb of three mountains of fat.

Later in the day

“Kiran, don’t tell me you gave them even more of this weed thing to them?” Pacing back and forth in his new room in some other smaller, remote castle, Alfonse exasperatedly sighs as he slumps back in his chair.

“I went to check on them. See how bad the weed has been affecting them. Which is why people shouldn’t be taking drugs,”

Alfonse’s eyes shoot wide open from Kiran’s lecturing tone. “Y-you gave it to them! And you keep giving it to them! There is absolutely no lesson to be had here. No moral. No aesop. Nothing. Besides!” Alfonse points an accusatory finger at Kiran, staring up at them even as Alfonse goes to stand up. “There is no way such a drug normally exists. You had to have enchanted it,”

“And what about it?” Kiran noncommittal shrugs. He goes to sit in his chair, far too pleased with himself even as Alfonse berates him.

“Th-then!” Alfonse momentarily stops. His brain wracks itself as it tries to figure out what to say now, not expecting Kiran to purposefully admit being at fault. “Then stop acting like you’re innocent! You gave some to Kaden and Keaton and now this castle is soon to be overtaken by two blobs! They fill up the entire west wing now. Kaden’s chest is so huge that they could crush a wagon! And Keaton’s stomach could crush three of them! And if you’re admitting to being at fault then you need to fix this right this instant!” His entire chest heaves as he finishes his impassioned beratement. He finds himself standing right in front of the seated Kiran who only has a far too amused grin on his face.

“You’re wrong about that,”

“Huh? About what?” Alfonse’s eyes keep steady as they glare at the summoner.

“It’s not going to be two blobs,” Kiran stands up. He stares down at Alfonse, right in front of him. His steely eyes grin down at the confused prince, Alfonse’s body suddenly yelling at him to run only for his feet to remain plastered to the ground. Kiran whips Alfonse around, pressing him against himself. Producing a brownie out of nowhere he tauntingly holds it in front of Alfonse. “It’s going to be three,” He whispers in Alfonse’s ear. A single bead of sweat rolls down the side of his head as his arms and legs thrash about. His struggling slowly dies down the instant the brownie reaches the inside of his mouth, Kiran holding his hand against Alfonse’s lips. Feeling Alfonse’s body begin to slack, Kiran slowly lets him go.

“Ugh I…” With lidded eyes, Alfonse looks at his hands. “I feel so chill,” A little burst of giggling ensues as he drapes himself onto the couch. His flat stomach lets out a small little grumble. “I feel kind of hungry,” Grumbling to himself, he gently holds his stomach in hopes of soothing the pain.

“Here, I have some snacks for you,” An angelic smile now adorning his face, Kiran caresses Alfonse’s hair as he hands him some snacks. “I’ll go get you some more just in case too,” Walking off, Kiran goes to bring him the entirety of the kitchen’s stock.

Alfonse succumbing to the same fate as the others, Kiran has him working overtime in order to catch up. Stuffed to the brim with food all hours of the day, that is nothing compared to the copious amounts of weed he feeds him every half hour. So aggravatingly hungry, it takes only a few weeks for Alfonse to find himself immobilised by his crushing weight. Unaware of ever being angry from the use of weed, he can barely find himself begging for more of it before Kiran supplies it to him alongside another feast or two or three. His fat body is as plain as his once thin body; fat simply cakes itself onto it all over. No exact body part is a standout from the rest even as his body fills the entirety of his room only to take up a whole wing by itself, a sea of fat spreading all around with only Kiran able to tell that the body belongs to Askr’s prince. Making sure to give him a rough time, it all works out for Kiran as Alfonse soon grows to be fatter than Kaden and Keaton combined, the poor kitsune and wolfskin each taking up only a quarter of the smaller castle compared to Alfonse’s three fourths.

Kiran rests on top of Alfonse’s numerous chins, the cascading folds sufficiently enough for him to comfortably rest. He sighs contentedly as the whirs of three feeding machines fill his ears, Alfonse requiring two now. “Pretty soon you’ll need even more, fat ass,” Chuckling to himself Kiran grins from ear to ear. A good portion of Alfonse’s fat taking up his vision, Kaden’s and Keaton’s crushing weight take up another significant portion, the two of them needing one feeding machine. But it’s the sight in the far background that brings him the most joy. Off in the distance, the distinct sight of three blobs looms over the landscape. Askr castle entirely now no more, the great structure would be unable to contain a single one of them, much less three. A mountain itself an apt comparison to each of their bloated figures, Kiran simply grins himself as he thinks about his visit to them tomorrow, a great climb comparable to Mount Everest only done thrice in one day awaiting him. Though he considers it more than worth it, wondering just how big they can further grow, all of them happy to do so.

[artzychic27]

Artist Family Values?

Everything is calm. Marinette, Alix, and Rose are playing funeral in the backyard; Felix is helping Juleka write a love note to Rose, confessing her feelings; Nathaniel is arm wrestling That and losing

Marc: Nathaniel, wonderful news. My mother is going to have a baby and she wants us to have it... Right now.

*Several hours of excruciatingly painful labor later*

Little girl: And then mommy kissed daddy, and the angel told the stork. The stork flew down from heaven and left a diamond under a leaf in the cabbage patch, and the diamond turned into a baby.

Marinette: They had sex.

*Later*

Rose: Nathaniel!

Juleka: What news?

Marinette: Nathaniel, what is it?

Nathaniel: It’s an Artist!

The baby’s name is Kiran. He has black eyes and was born with fangs

Marinette and Alix immediately hate the baby and do everything they can to get rid of him. Guillotine, shooting him, dropping him from the roof

Marc: Mari. Alix. Why do you hate the baby?

Alix: We don’t hate him. We just wanna play with him.

Marinette: Especially his head.

To keep Kira out of trouble, Marc and Nathaniel hire a nanny. Lila.

Juleka immediately hates her because of how she’s taken a liking to Rose. Little does she know that she isn’t in love with the blonde. She’s a black widow out for their fortune.

Noticing that Marinette and Alix are onto her, Lila makes it seem like they wanna go to summer camp so they’re not in her way.

Nathaniel: *Disgusted* Fresh air. The scent of pine.

Chloé: Hi. I'm Chloé Bourgeois. Why are you dressed like that?

Marinette: Like what?

Chloé: Like you're going to a funeral. Why are you dressed like somebody died?

Marinette: Wait.

While at camp, Marinette and Alix make enemies of the popular bratty rich kids and allies out of the outcasts (The Akuma class)

Marinette finds herself glaring at a certain boy from America who glares right back at her... It’s Damian.

Back at the Artists’ home, Rose finds herself falling in love with Lila, much to Juleka’s anger but no one seems to notice

Marc and Nathaniel invite them to a gothic bistro

Lila: I just can't tell. Does she like me at all?

Marc: Of course she does. She pulled out her hair at the sight of you.

Marc and Nathaniel perform the badass tango from the movie

Meanwhile at the cemetery, Lila and Rose get engaged surprisingly quickly

Rose: Good news! I’m engaged!

Juleka: What?! *Felix pats her back for comfort*

Lila: *Shows the ring*

Marc: That ring.

Nathaniel: It was my grandmother’s. She was burried with it.

Lila: *Holds up a shovel*

Later that night at the camp, Alix and Marinette attempt to escape with some help from Damian, but are caught by the brat campers and are forced to sing Kumbaya

Damian and Marinette find themselves becoming closer

Damian: You know... I’m pretty good with a knife myself.

Marinette: ... *Holds Damian’s hand*

Escape attempt #2 is a success. When they hear about the wedding, Marinette and Alix have to go and see if it’ll be a train wreck. Of course, Marinette invites Damian as her plus one.

It’s surprisingly pleasant. Everyone’s dressed in black, the flower girl is tossing dead petals on the ground.

“I do.” “Ditto.” Marinette catches the bouquet.

Damian: Now you have to get married.

Marinette: It’s not binding.

On their honemoon, Lila attempts to kill Rose by dropping a toaster in her bath. Unfortunately for her, Rose is immune to death by electrocution

Needing a new plan and for the Artists to stay out of her way, Lila forbids Rose from seeing or speaking to em ever again.

Meanwhile at camp, Alix shoots an endangered bird!

Camp director 1: It’s a white tailed eagle!

Camp director 2: Aren’t they endangered?

Marinette: They are now

Juleka is sulking after receiving a letter from Rose, saying she can’t see them ever again.

Juleka: Have I done something, said something? Why does she despise me?

Nathaniel: Rose adores you.

Juleka: I'd do anything for her. At her request, I would rip out my eyes. At her command, I would crawl on my stomach through hot coals and broken glass.

Marc: ... You’re in love with Rose?

Back at camp, the directors announce that the campers will be performing the poorly written and quite racist play about the first Thanksgiving

Chloé will be playing Sarah Miller, the outcasts will play the Native Americans, and Marinette will be playing Pocahontas.

Marinette passes out at the announcement

Meanwhile, the Artists visit Rose and Lila at their pristine white mansion.

Juleka: So these are the gates of hell.

Lila forced them to leave, and Rose, out of fear, backs her up.

Marc: I see Lila that you have placed Rose under some strange sexual spell. I respect that. But please, may we see her?

Lila: No!

Marc: You have gone too far. You have married Rose. You have destroyed her spirit. You have taken her from us. All that I could forgive. But, Lila...

Lila: What?!

Marc: ... Pastels?

They leave, but not before Juleka curses Lila.

They try to go to the police, but they won’t take them seriously, and Nathaniel makes the following announcement

Nathaniel: I shall not submit! I shall conquer! I shall rise! My name is Nathaniel Artist, and I have seen evil! *Juleka holds up Kiran* I have seen horror! *Felix waves* I have seen the unholy maggots which feast in the dark recesses of the human soul.

Marc: They’re at camp.

Speaking of camp. The main 3 attempt to escape again, but are caught by the other campers and are soon forced into the Harmony Hut where they’re forced to watch Disney Movies.

Hours without food or drinks later, and they come out looking pale and traumatized

Marinette snaps out of it and traumatizes them back by smiling

With the Artists, something horrible has happened to Kiran. He blonde and has blue eyes!

Marc: My brother!

Nathaniel: *Faints*

Juleka: *Reading from spell book* “Infant possessions. These terrifying changes are most often the result of a troubled family life.”

Marc: Rose!

Juleka: If we don’t get Rose back, we’re talking dimples.

Nathaniel: Not in this house!

Juleka: He could stay this way for years. Forever. He could become... A lawyer.

Nathaniel: No!

Juleka: An orthodontist.

Marc: Juleka, please!

Juleka: ... Mayor.

Nathaniel: NOOO! TAKE ME INSTEAD!

It’s the day of the highly offensive show that portrays Native Americans as uncivilized people.

It goes off well until Marinette flips the script.

Marinette: You have taken the land which is rightfully ours. Years from now, my people will be forced to live in mobile homes on reservations. Your people will wear cardigans and drink highballs. We will sell our bracelets by the road sides. You will play golf and enjoy hot hors d’oeurves. My people will have pain and degradation. Your people will drive stick shifts. The gods of my tribe have spoken. They have said, “Do not trust the pilgrims, especially Sarah Miller. And for all these reasons, I have decided to scalp you, and burn your village. To. The. Ground.

The outcasts burn the camp to the ground and attack the brats while the main 3 escape in a canoe.

Meanwhile, Lila tries one last attempt at killing Rose, knowing this won’t fault. A bomb.

When it goes off while she’s out, she’s expecting a blonde corpse. Not Rose holding a tray of cupcakes and a warm smile

Enough is enough.

Lila: *Aims gun* I tried to make it look like an accident! I tried to give you some dignity, but, oh, no, not you!

That shows up to save the day by hitting Lila with his car and helping Rose escape back to the Artists’ Home,

*Now for the best scene*

Marinette: I may never see you again.

Damian: I know.

Marinette: There are forces tearing us apart-- Gary, Lila, tenth grade.

Damian: I'll never forget you.

Marinette: *Touched* You won't?

Damian: You're too weird.

Marinette: We'll always have today and camp

Damian: And this. *He holds up a retainer*

Marinette: What is it?

Damian: Chloé’s retainer. *Drops it to the ground* Meyn ziskeyt.

Marinette: Mi querido.

*The two kiss through the fence before pulling away and wiping their mouths*

Meanwhile, Nathaniel’s lost his mind.

Nathaniel: *Lying in bed* Swing low... Sweet chariot... Coming for to carry me home.

Marc: Oh, my sister is ill and my husband is dying. Juleka, what am I gonna do?

Juleka: Well, you already have a black dress.

Rose returns, apologizes for abandoning them, reconciles with her friends

And at that moment, Marinette and Alix return from camp. They all group hug, and Juleka is about to tell Rose about her feelings for her, until...

Lila: In-laws!

Down in the dungeon, the Artists, Felix, and That are strapped into electric chairs while Lila tells them the story of her life... Through slideshow!

She burned her house down with her parents still in it because they gave her Malibu Barbie instead of Ballerina Barbie

Marc: *Disgusted* Malibu Barbie. The nightmare.

Nathaniel: The nerve.

Her first husband the heart surgeon could never make it on dates, so she committed axe murder.

Juleka: Aw, an axe. That takes me back.

Husband #2 was a Senator who wouldn’t buy Lila that new, expensive car because they had to set an example. She ran him over.

Lila: So I destroyed one innocent life after another. Aren't I a human being? Don't I yearn and... ache and shop? Don't I deserve love... and jewelry?

Marc: *nods* Adios, mi querido.

Nathaniel: Zay gezunt, meyn tayer.

With some encouragement from Felix, Juleka uses her last few moments to confess to Rose

Juleka: Rose, night after night, I have desired you. I would worship every pale, lifeless limb on your body, die and kill for you, love you even after my dying breath. Rose... I love you.

Her confession leaves Rose in tears.

Rose: I love you, too.

Lila: Oh, barf! *Grabs the lever* Goodbye, everyone! Wish me luck!

Artists: Good luck.

Right as she’s about to pull the lever, Kiran, back go normal and by some miracle drops down from the ceiling and switches the wires, making Lila electrocute herself to death

*One year later*

Juleka and Rose got married! Also, it’s Kiran’s birthday! And Damian’s invited!

Rose: And to think I might have missed all this. What was I thinking?

Marinette: Physical pleasure.

While the others are celebrating, Marinette and Damian hang out in the cemetery and talk about marriage. Which Marinette doesn’t want

Damian: But what if you found a man so devoted to you, who worshipped you, that he’d be your eternal love slave?

Marinette: I’d pity him

Damian: *Looks at Lila’s gravestone. ‘Friend, Family, Killer* Damn. Lila was sick.

Marinette: She wasn't sick. She was sloppy.

Damian: What?

Marinette: If I wanted to kill my husband, I'd do it, and I wouldn't get caught.

Damian: How?

Marinette: I'd scare him to death.

Damian: *Scoffs* Sure. *As he goes to lay a flower on Lila’s grave, her hand pops out of the ground and grabs him, making him scream.*

[spicyswords-inc]

A Nightmare Turned to Dream - a kiralfonse ficlet

A/N: uwu I don’t normally post much fanfiction... but gosh darn it after that Book IV finale in Heroes I needed to put metaphorical pen to metaphorical paper. 

Be warned that this contains MEGA spoilers for the Book IV finale in FE:Heroes. If you’re worried you might get spoiled, close tumblr, go play the chapter and then come back (or don’t I’m not your mom).

Anyways, a quick shoutout to my pal @eelkonig for giving this baby a once over. I don’t know what I’d do without you!

The fic’s below the cut! Enjoy!

Kiran woke with a start and jolted into an upright position. Their hands, which had been desperately gripping the horn that would return them home, were now gripping the soft sheets that had been covering their prone form. Kiran took a moment to slowly rub their thumbs against the downy fabric as the rest of their senses gradually came to. They slowly turned their head to take in their surroundings. It appeared that they were back in their room at the castle. Their room was sparse but convenient, only containing the necessities: the bed on which they lay, a small desk to lay their maps and tactical journals, and a small wardrobe that held several replicas of their signature cloak. 

Kiran slowly swung their legs over the edge of their bed to tentatively touch the cobblestone floor with their feet. When their limbs didn’t seem to show signs of sinking beneath the sturdy surface any time soon, Kiran released a breath they hadn’t realized they’d been holding. 

“That’s a good sign,” they muttered to themselves as they grabbed their boots, which had been laid on the floor at the foot of the bed. They tugged their hood a little more over their face as they gave their room another onceover before leaving. As soon as they stepped into the hallway, they heard a voice from behind that stopped them in their tracks. A voice they’d thought they’d never hear again.

“Oh, Kiran!” Alfonse exclaimed as he continued towards Kiran. “I am glad to see you finally awake! You had me worried.”

All Kiran could do was stare blankly. ‘Can I actually trust this to be real? Is he really…?

Alfonse blinked. “...Is something wrong? What is this blank expression you have?”

Before Kiran could reply, Commander Anna came from behind Kiran to join them. “Excellent. Now we’re all awake again, with Kiran back!” the red-headed commander exclaimed as she smiled towards their tactician. 

Alfonse took note of Kiran’s still blank-looking expression and tried his best to catch their gaze. “So do you not remember anything either?” 

Kiran feigned ignorance and shook their head no. If they’d all forgotten, there was no reason for them to share the details of the nightmare they’d just experienced. 

“Let me explain what I can,” Alfonse began. “All of us slept for three days and three nights. And suddenly, now, we all woke up, one by one.” The prince rubbed the back of his neck nervously when Kiran’s expression continued to not change. “You were the last of use to wake, following just after Sharena.”

The princess in question yawned loudly and stretched her arms towards the ceiling as she appeared from around the corner and walked in their general direction. “Whew! That was a great nap…” Sharena mumbled absently to herself. When she spotted her compatriots in discussion, she quickly rushed to close the scant distance between them. “Oh, good morning!”

Alfonse and Anna nodded their greetings while Kiran continued to stare and take everything in.

“It seems like we were all sleeping for quite a while, weren’t we?” The princess brought a finger to her lip and her expression turned inquisitive. “Why did we all fall asleep, though?” she wondered aloud as she closed her eyes thoughtfully. “It feels like I had a really long dream, but the details are...gone!” Seemingly unconcerned, Sharena simply shrugged and erupted into a bright smile. “Oh well! I’m sure we have nothing to worry about. We should focus on the time we lost to our nap! Time to get out there and take today’s missions by storm!”

Sharena’s boundless optimism was so contagious that Kiran found they were finally able to crack a smile. Some of the tension they’d been holding in their shoulders dissipated as Alfonse inquired about the schedule for the day. As the quartet went about actually performing the errands expected of them throughout the day, Kiran found themself gradually relaxing with each passing moment. They found comfort in the familiar routine: overseeing training, going over strategy, checking in on the heroes, and so on.

When it came time to patrol the perimeter of the castle, Alfonse had swiftly volunteered to join Kiran when they’d asked the Order of Heroes as a collective. Normally such enthusiasm would’ve made Kiran blush; they still weren’t quite sure what their feelings involving Alfonse were. But when they thought back to the sight of Alfonse’s unconscious, prone form, and Freyja’s declaration that Alfonse, because he had cheated death, had been erased from existence, they… they… 

“Kiran?”

A warm, strong hand wrapped around theirs brought them back to the present. Kiran blinked as Alfonse tried to peer beneath their hood and meet their gaze. Kiran instinctually used their other hand to pull their hood lower across their face.

“I-I’m sorry if that was too forward,” Alfonse stammered as he turned to face away from the summoner. “It was just… you’d started to slow down. And when you stopped walking besides me entirely I… well I…”

“It’s okay,” Kiran reaffirmed, squeezing the hand still holding theirs. “Sorry about that. I guess I got lost in thought…” Their voice trailed off as they glanced towards Alfonse, whose head turned to gaze at them once again at the same time. It took a moment for them to realize just how corny that must have looked, but when realization finally hit the pair found themselves glancing in opposite directions yet again.

Kiran willed their heart to settle, bringing their free hand to rest against their chest as they steadied their breathing. The duo stood together in silence still holding hands for what felt like forever. Kiran felt Alfonse adjust his posture slightly beside them. Chancing a glance his direction, it looked as though Alfonse had something to ask. But his voice caught in his throat as his sister and Commander Anna bounded towards them. The duo immediately ceased contact and tried to nonchalantly move their hands away from the other.

“There you two are!” Anna exclaimed exasperatedly. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you two.”

“My apologies,” said Alfonse, stepping towards the two women before him. “Are we needed for something?”

“Why else would we search for you?” Sharena quipped before groaning quickly. “Anyways, that’s not what’s important right now. What’s important is that Loki has been spotted just outside the forest. And she has units with her.”

No more words needed to be said as the small group jumped into action. As they all but sprinted towards the forest, Alfonse briefly glanced towards the summoner running just behind him. He’d been just about to ask them if they were okay. He’d noticed just how out of it they’d seemed since earlier that morning.

‘I suppose that will just have to wait.’ Alfonse thought despondently to himself as he returned his gaze forward. ‘They’re probably fine.’

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Oh, hello. Lovely weather, isn’t it?” Loki cooed, twirling a loose strand of her magenta hair around her finger as she shot the Order of Heroes a disparaging look. “How have you been? Well, I hope.”

“Skip the pleasantries, Loki,” Anna spat as she stepped forwards. “What have you done this time?”

Loki’s face feigned shock as she brought her free hand to cover her mouth. “Me? I haven’t done a thing. If you want someone to blame… well…” The witch’s lips upturned into a devilish grin. “I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise.” Loki’s gaze scanned across their group a moment. When her eyes descended upon Kiran, her eyes widened with acknowledgement. “...Ah! Forgive my rudeness. Welcome back, Kiran!”

Kiran’s eyes grew wide as Loki stared them down. They gulped reflexively but did their best to otherwise hide their discomfort. 

“Did you have a pleasant dream?”

Kiran’s breath hitched in their throat as images of the nightmare they’d just returned from flashed in their mind. Without a second thought, Kiran surged forward and aimed Breidablik at Loki.

“Kiran!” Alfonse shouted as he immediately chased after them. Sharena and Anna quickly shared a glance before joining their comrades in rushing the enemy. 

The battle didn’t last long. The team had worked together long enough that dispatching their foes was mere child's play. Alfonse, Sharena, and Anna expertly faced against the nameless axe, sword, and lance lackeys respectively while Kiran and Loki exchanged blows with each other. As soon as Loki noticed her debilitated henchmen, the sorceress clicked her tongue disdainfully before disappearing with a snap of her fingers.

Sharena fumed as she ran towards where Loki had been moments ago. “She’s gone… again! We’ll never get close enough to capture her!” Sharena sighed while her posture deflated slightly. “Gone...again… Huh.”

“What is it, Sharena?” Alfonse asked as he walked forward. He spared Kiran a quick glance before returning his full attention to his sister.

“I feel like… Something is familiar about this.” Sharena hooked a finger thoughtfully over her chin. “Is it deja vu, or is it something from a dream?” The young princess paused and glanced towards the ground. “But… what dream would it have been?”

Alfonse didn’t miss the way Kiran flinched at the word “dream” from the corner of his eye. “Are you all right, Sharena? Are you still half-asleep?”

Sharena’s gaze was still downwards when she noticed something on the ground in front of her. “...Oh!” she chirped, kneeling to the ground to scoop something into her hands. Kiran held back a choked gasp as Sharena produced a familiar looking flower crown. “A chain of flowers? Why… Where did I…” Sharena’s hands started to tremble slightly. “Why am I suddenly...so sad? These flowers are breaking my heart, and I… I…” She sniffled slightly. Alfonse turned and watched as Kiran seemed to do the same.

Anna awkwardly cleared her throat. “Sorry to interrupt, but I’ve just received a report you’ll want to hear, Princess Sharena. It seems a childhood friend of yours has just arrived for an unannounced visit… Ah, speaking of, there she is-”

The small group of friends turned in tandem towards where Anna had pointed.

“Ah!” Sharena squeaked as a head of blonde hair similar to hers came into view.

Hot tears streamed down Kiran’s face as Sharena’s friend, who so closely resembled Peony, appeared to the summoner that way, wings, floral attire, and all. Kiran couldn’t be too sure the person in front of her was actually a ljosalfar, but at that point it didn’t matter. Kiran was barely able to choke back their cry as their emotions overtook them and they crumpled to the ground. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Kiran’s eyes fluttered open, the first thing they noticed was how their eyelashes fluttered against material similar to their cloak. Eyes slowly coming into focus, Kiran then took stock of how their surroundings continued to shift around them even though they felt no ground beneath their feet. When they made to straighten their posture it was then that they felt their chest flush against someone’s back and hands that weren’t theirs wrapped beneath their thighs.

“Oh thank goodness,” Kiran heard Alfonse breathe as the prince continued to give them a piggyback ride. “I was already assuming the worst when you’d crumbled to the ground like that.”

Heat rose onto Kiran’s cheeks as they hid their face from the rest of the world by leaning their forehead against the back of Alfonse’s neck. “Sorry,” they muttered quietly, utterly embarrassed. 

“It’s nothing you need to apologize for,” Alfonse reassured as he stepped inside the castle. He paused for just a moment to shift and more comfortably accommodate Kiran’s weight before continuing towards their room. Kiran took a moment to look up and take note of their route; from the looks of it, it appeared Alfonse had the foresight to not go through the main doors of the castle but instead take a side entrance. Kiran felt a wave of gratitude wash over them; they didn’t want to even think about all the looks they would’ve gotten. Their lips quirked into the faintest of smiles as they returned their forehead to rest against the back of Alfonse’s neck. 

The pair continued in comfortable silence all the way back to Kiran’s room. As soon as Alfonse had reached their door, Kiran took that moment to shift their legs from Alfonse’s hold and return to a standing position. Alfonse watched as the summoner stared at their door handle but made no move to open it.

“...Are you okay?” Alfonse asked quietly, though he already had an inkling to what Kiran’s answer was. 

When the summoner slowly turned to face him, the young prince felt a sharp pain in his chest. Their eyes, which he hardly ever saw appear from beneath their hood, were visibly rimmed with unshed tears while their nose was scrunched and their lower lip quivered. 

Without thinking, Alfonse reached over Kiran, grabbed the door handle, and quietly ushered them inside before just as quietly shutting the door behind them. Kiran desperately covered their face with their hands to choke back any sniffles and sobs. Their tears soaked into their gloves for only a moment until familiar hands grabbed theirs to gently lower them. 

“Hey-”

Kiran suddenly removed their hands from Alfonse’s to quickly grab the edge of their hood and pull it further over their face again. Despite the attempt to hide their tears, their body still shuddered as their cries became harder and harder to hold back.

Alfonse waited a moment before trying to act again. The last thing he wanted to do was make Kiran uncomfortable. He just couldn’t stand to see them this way. Chest briefly filling with bated breath, Alfonse opted to take a seat on the edge of Kiran’s bed before trying anything.

“Kiran,” Alfonse tried again, his voice only slightly raising in volume. All he received in the form of acknowledgement was the sight of Kiran’s posture straightening ever so slightly. “...What happened?” he asked faintly. All Kiran could do was shake their head in response, their tears now spilling past their hood to drip onto the floor.

“Are you okay?”

Kiran shook their head again.

Alfonse bit back a sigh. He’d never seen Kiran look so despondent. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”

Kiran looked up just enough to lock eyes with the prince in front of them, their eyes peeking from beneath their hood. Then their resolve crumbled. Unable to hold back their grief and anguish any longer, Kiran slowly approached Alfonse with outstretched arms. Alfonse wasted no time in returning the embrace. He brought one hand to rest against the back of Kiran’s hooded head while the other pulled Kiran’s form flush against his. Kiran, in turn, draped their arms over Alfonse’s shoulders and shoved their face against his shoulder. Alfonse felt every tear, gasp, and shudder as Kiran wailed into his shoulder. All Alfonse could do in the way of comfort was reassuringly rub their back as Kiran let out the emotions they’d been bottling up. 

“I-I thought you were dead!” Kiran blubbered into his shoulder. “I thought I’d killed you! I th-thought you were gone, and that it was all my fault!”

Alfonse moved the hand that had cupped the back of Kiran’s head to grasp one of their hands. “I’m right here, though,” he reminded gently. He tightened his grip around their hand. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

When Kiran returned his grip with a similar squeeze, Alfonse felt a burst of confidence as he quickly leaned forward and chanced a kiss against Kiran’s hooded brow. The prince felt the summoner in his arms stiffen and immediately worried that he’d gone too far.

“I’m sorry, was that too-”

“No!” Kiran immediately interjected. Both parties erupted into equal amounts of blush as the silence that surrounded the room began to envelope them. Thankfully, the silence they shared wasn’t tense or anxious. The two simply relaxed and reveled in the other’s company as they continued to embrace the other.

Alfonse had no idea how long they remained in each other’s arms. But when he felt Kiran’s breath steadily even out and then deepen, he didn’t try to hide his smile. Moving as smoothly as possible so that he wouldn’t wake his summoner, Alfonse quickly scooped Kiran into a bridal carry before just as quickly laying them down on their bed. Alfonse made sure to gently remove Kiran’s boots from their person before carefully covering them with their sheets.

He took in the sight for just a moment. He’d never seen so many sides of Kiran. The Kiran he was familiar with was the calm, calculated tactician that held together the Order of Heroes. Alfonse couldn’t think of a time he’d seen Kiran scared, upset, or vulnerable. Though he’d never wish the feelings Kiran had shared upon anyone, it was relieving for Alfonse to see. It made Kiran more… human.

“What am I even thinking? Of course they’re human,” Alfonse whispered to himself, turning to leave Kiran. A hand wrapped around his stopped him in his tracks. Alfonse looked back and saw a barely awake Kiran holding onto their hand like it was the only thing they knew to do.

“Please don’t leave,” Kiran whispered, a shudder passing through their spine.

Alfonse complied and lowered to a kneel beside them. He made sure to move in a way that allowed their hands to stay connected. “Alright. But just until you fall asleep.”

“‘Kay,” they responded sleepily before closing their eyes again.

Alfonse waited for the grip around his hand to loosen sufficiently before painstakingly removing his hand to return it to his side. Something told him that this wouldn’t be the last time he’d do this for Kiran. Alfonse smiled as he took in Kiran’s peaceful slumbering form one last time. It wasn’t as though he minded. 

[sketchy-saram]

Hello! This is Chapter 2 of a Kiwren (Kiran/Wren) story I wrote a while back, although you can find it in their tag if you want to read part one! For anyone who is new, Kiran is @lazyvoyager​‘s fan kid of Illain and Muriel, and Wren is the adopted kid of my Celeste and Julian.

Summary: After seeing her crush with someone else, Wren goes to drink her sorrows away at the Rowdy Raven...after hatching a plot to leave Vesuvia, fate has other plans, and she is rescued just in time to throw up on her rescuer and pass out. xD

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KIWREN CHAPTER 2

     Wren stood in the middle of a beautiful meadow. Dappled sunlight shone through the cherry blossom trees, petals gently floating down to the ground and forming a pillowy, light-pink carpet under her feet. She was barefoot--oh, no, she was actually wearing extremely cute slippers, with ribbons that tied up the length of her calves, meeting with the frothy hem of her skirt. It was a dress she had been toying with, beautifully tailored, and now she was wearing it here--wherever here was--and the scene was absolutely perfect. She reached for her braid, only to realize her hair was already loose and in gorgeous honey-amber waves, and had grown a foot or two as well, adorned with a cherry-blossom crown at the top.

     Everything was adorable and elegant, and the warm glow she felt wasn’t only from the sun, especially when she glanced across the field and saw the love of her life standing there. He was tall and svelte; that scar across his face adding such character; the dark lines of the tattoo on his chest just peeking out from underneath a billowing white linen shirt. The sight of it had Wren feeling weak in the knees; her stomach trembled, her heart fluttered.

     Giddy, she began to run through the petals towards him, in what felt like slow-motion...or, maybe she was running in slow motion? Weird...and he turned to look at her fully, a smile spreading across his face, his arms opening wide in preparation for her. Any confusion she felt was forgotten. 

     Perfect.

     And then there was the oddest sensation of falling. A sudden drop. Everything around her darkened to the black of deadest night. She was barely able to catch herself...except, wait, she hadn’t caught herself at all. She was in a firm grip, surrounded by muscle. Her stomach pitched; this time uncomfortably. Wren’s eyes wildly rolled, trying to find where he had gone...only to see him, walking away, his arm around a beautiful woman with curves everywhere and ever-expanding breasts…

     With a jolt, Wren sat up in bed, sweat covering her face and neck, what was left in her stomach threatening to come up. With a heroic amount of effort, she choked it back down, although it was touch-and-go for a few seconds. When at last she could open her eyes without the room spinning, it was with no small amount of consternation.

     While she was pretty sure she was no longer dreaming, this was not  the room she remembered. It wasn’t her room, and, she was fairly certain, it wasn’t ANY room in her house. She wasn’t even sure it was a room, if she was being honest. Was that...a tree root? Was this house built into a tree? Was that sanitary? Didn’t bugs live in trees? Squirrels? Birds? 

     Were there birds in this house??

     Her mind whirled, and she had to press her hand to her mouth again and stop all thought in order not to be sick. The strange musty smell surrounding her didn’t help, and when she looked down at the blanket that had pooled around her waist, she realized it was some sort of pelt. 

     Opening one eye, she tried again to take stock of where she was, and to remember what had happened. Why couldn’t she remember? What did she do last night??

     And then the last part of the dream flashed before her eyes in stark relief. 

     Oh. That’s right. That part...wasn’t a dream. Well, the enormous breasts part might have been, but the rest wasn’t. Her chest seized in pain before she could stop herself from thinking about it. She didn’t want to think about it, and luckily for her, there were other pressing matters to focus on. Wren could recall walking through town, dwelling on her misery, and then…

     She groaned.

     The Raven.

     Yes, that was where it had all gone south, so to speak. She had a vague recollection of leaving, and something about her sketchbook…?

     Ugh. Her mouth was like cotton, every part of her face felt puffy and blotchy from yesterday’s crying, and she desperately wanted to curl under a blanket that wasn’t made from animals and pretend not to exist for at least a day. Maybe a couple months. If she could, she would hibernate this whole heartache away. But, it seemed, that was never going to be her luck, so instead, she had to figure out what to do next.

     Gingerly, Wren threw back the rest of the hide with her forefinger and thumb, revealing with relief that she was still wearing everything from the day before...with a few new, dubious stains. She added fresh clothes and a shower to the list of things she would have killed for right about then. Instead, she got her feet planted on the roughly-hewn wooden floor, just about ready to try standing…

     When the door of the hut? room? crashed open to reveal one of the biggest men she’d ever seen.

     Reflexively, she grabbed the hide again, yanking it up to her chin to cover herself despite being fully clothed. The stranger didn’t seem to notice as he looked towards her, his face a mess of freckles and beaming smile in dark, sun-tanned skin. The visage looked vaguely familiar, but the pounding of her heart stopped Wren’s mind from being able to place it. 

     “You’re awake!” he said, voice booming cheerfully around the homely abode. It was not as deep as she might have expected from someone so...well...built. “I wasn’t sure what we were going to do with you if you didn’t wake up, honestly.”

     That statement had the hairs on Wren’s neck bristling, and instead of staring at this newcomer, she remembered that all else aside, she was in a dangerous situation. A woman, alone with an extremely burly man, in a strange place, unsure of what was happening. 

     Well, she wasn’t going to go down without a fight, that was for sure.

     She screamed, and the sound seemed to have the desired effect--the stranger froze, and it gave her enough time to scramble up, her entire attention only on reaching the door he’d left open in his wake. She could see the outside through it--if she got there, she was free.

      “Wait!” The man’s face was creased in confusion, and his eyebrows rose almost comically. In fact, watching the series of expressions was almost interesting--Wren had never seen someone with such an openly expressive face. Every thought seemed to cross its deep-set, rugged expanse.

     Is he simple? Wren thought. She didn’t know if that would help or hurt her situation. So far, nothing seemed to have happened to her, but she didn’t want to stay any longer than necessary to find out. Glancing to her side, she saw she was next to a low-banked fireplace...and right by her hand was a cast-iron skillet. Grabbing it, she held it out in front of her like a sword.

     To her surprise, the man actually took a step back, his green eyes widening.

     “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I’m leaving. Don’t follow me.” 

     Slowly, she crept her way along the floor, her eyes firmly held on the stranger, whose face was now comically torn between concern and confusion.

     “Listen, I didn’t mean--”

     “Nope. Don’t say anything.”

     “But I--”

     “Shoosh.”

     “You really should just--”

     “You have the wrong girl, buddy.”

     At last, Wren reached the door he had come in through, and risking a look back at it, saw that it wasn’t locked. She brandished the skillet at him once more, then tossed it on a nearby table and swiftly turned, slipping through as quickly as her still-wobbly legs would carry her.

     Finally! Freedom!

     Outside, bright noon-time sun was filtered through a thick layer of forest vegetation, and Wren realized with a start that she was in the middle of the woods. Her stomach, still in a bad way, tied itself into further knots. She could be almost anywhere, although the Dark Forest seemed the most likely answer. Now, from outside the hut, she could see that it was indeed built into the roots of the nearby trees, and a newer addition looked like it had been added onto the original one-room home haphazardly. Maybe by magic? It honestly did not look architecturally sound.

     Here in the yard there seemed to be a host of various animals roaming, cultivated in a miniature forest farm--chickens pecked the ground around Wren’s feet, and she had to jump back to avoid one that was aiming for her toes.

     Now even chickens are trying to get me? Could I catch a break for one freaking second?!

     Wren sucked in a deep breath, trying to center herself, her eyes nervously trained on the door. She could vaguely tell which way the sun had risen from, which meant she knew which way Vesuvia was. You didn’t learn nothing about wayfinding growing up on a ship, after all. Her house sat beyond the Vesuvian walls to the west of South End, which was the complete opposite of town from the Dark Forest. Great. She was tired before she even started, but with a groan, Wren set off into the woods.

     She hated the woods. They were full of bugs and dirt and rocks and...nature. Honestly, nothing good came out of the woods, of that she was sure. Still, the fresh air was nice for her queasy hangover stomach, and it seemed to jog awake her half-asleep brain at last as the adrenaline faded away. She had time to think about that man, who had seemed vaguely familiar, although she was sure they’d never met before…

     And then something from her dream-that-wasn’t-a-dream dawned on her. Falling, and strong arms catching her like a doll from thin air. It certainly could have been him...he looked like he probably snapped tree trunks over his knees for fun. Arms strapped with muscle every which-way. At the time, trapped in a room with him, that had been unsettling, but now…

     Wren coughed, shaking away the thought. His outfit, on the other hand, was an absolute tragedy. With that build, she thought, there were a few styles she could imagine that would better suit--

     My sketchbook! 

     With absolute horror, Wren realized she no longer had possession of her sketches, even as her hands patted her down to be sure. Had they been left behind in South End? Or were they… She turned to look back over her shoulder, where the hut had already vanished, but a faint puff of smoke from the chimney still gave away its location. 

     I can’t go back there for my sketchbook. That’s crazy. That man could be an axe-murderer you surprised before he had time to murder you.

     But...that book had all of my most recent designs. A month of work, gone. I’ll never remember all the details exactly as they were. I don’t want to have to start them from scratch again…

     After a brief mental struggle, Wren finally turned on her heels with a sigh, begrudgingly headed back in the direction she came.

     There was still no sign of anyone when Wren quietly snuck back into the clearing, chewing her thumbnail as she thought about how to proceed. The man hadn’t actually done anything to her...maybe if she just...asked him about the sketchbook, he would answer her? It was so crazy, it just might work. So, sucking up her courage and trying to pull her flyaway mane of hair from her face, Wren stomped across the grounds and back to the door of the hut.

     Just as she was wondering whether or not to knock, it swung open, revealing the stranger again. They blinked at each other, unsure who was the more surprised.

     “You!” he began, obvious surprise in his tone. It was startlingly loud--did he ever just say anything without shouting?

Wren glanced around, wishing she had brought the skillet with her. Instead, she bent down and grabbed the best thing she could find--which happened to be a nearby roosting chicken, who clucked indignantly in her grasp.

     It was probably a poor choice of weapon, she thought, but hoped it might at least stop him from attacking her outright. What she hadn’t expected was this tree-trunk of a man to suddenly look so panicked and fretful.

     “Wait wait! Just...wait!”

     “You. I don’t know who you are, or what I’m doing here, but if you don’t want this...chicken...harmed…”

     “No, not Mr. Cluckers!”

     “...” Wren blinked, then shook her head. “...Yes, if you don’t want Mr. Cluckers harmed, then listen to me and answer my question. Do you have my sketchbook?!”

     “Your what? Be careful with her, she’s old!”

     Mr. Cluckers let out another string of cries from under Wren’s arm.

     “Why did you name your chicken Mr. Cluckers if it’s a girl chicken??”

     “We never name them, my dad does!”

     “That’s not--okay, whatever, that doesn’t matter. My sketchbook! Do you have it?”

     The man stood with his arms raised, large hands that looked like they were more callous than skin, and Wren couldn’t help being struck by the absurdity of this situation. He was actually, really and truly scared for the chicken, and it was beginning to make her feel bad as he struggled to think around his fear.

     “I...maybe? Was that all those papers you had? Yeah, I have them in the house! I made you breakfast! Can we just...could we talk about this?”

     After a tense moment where Wren looked between the man and Mr. Cluckers, she finally let out a huge sigh, holding the chicken in both hands and tossing it out into the yard, where it flapped its wings and came to an awkward landing amongst its fellows. Visibly, the large stranger relaxed, wiping the sweat off his forehead and running a hand over his short brown hair.

     “Fine. Talk.” Wren ground out grumpily.

     He opened his mouth. Instead, an extremely loud grumble practically rattled the leaves on the trees around them, and Wren felt her face flame as she realized the sound had come from her stomach. She closed her eyes and grimaced. Was there a chance that the Dark Forest would swallow her whole? At this point, she wasn’t even sure why she was worried about what this man might do to her--her entire life was nothing but a string of misery and embarrassment, anyway.

     When she opened her eyes, to her surprise, he was grinning, and it made him seem more youthful, somehow. In fact, despite his hulking size, she would have almost wagered he wasn’t too much older than her--maybe Felix’s age.

     “Are you sure you don’t want to come in? I made eggs,” he said, gesturing towards the door and holding it open.

With a flick of her messy braid and a loud ‘harrumph’, Wren stomped past him and entered the hut again, avoiding his mirthful eyes.

Well, she was hungry, anyway. A few more minutes couldn’t hurt.

[un4given09]

Kiran’s rant

Okay i wrote this a while back (based from a promo from CM Punk), the issue i had with Book 3 of FEH was while i thought it was good the one thing i give complaint to is Alfonse’s father’s lack of being well a dad, even his dying words sounds like he wants Alfonse only to fulfill his duties and nothing else. Not even a “I love you, son” from him so anyways here’s my take on how my Summoner would rant on Gustav’s chastising on Alfonse

Kiran: Alright, listen here you shrieking dead beat!

You thought Al was the only one who risked his life to save this town? Not me, Not your only daughter, Not Commander Anna and all of us?! What’s the matter? Huh? You don’t like that?! Do you Lord Royal Highness Gus? You don’t like it when we save innocent peasant folk who will likely die anyways due to the so called “Exanguinator’s” neglect? Do you?!

 Well let me just tell you what you’re going to do about me and the Order of Heroes: Absolutely nothing.

 Gustav: YOU! HOW DA-

 Kiran: I’m not done! Not by a longshot! You know what? Al has nothing to do with what’s really going on here! Its about time we’re going to put our co-

 Gustav: SILENCE! YOU DARE RAISE YOUR VOICE AGAINST ASKR’S KI-

 Kiran: NO YOU SHUT YOUR DAMN MOUTH! YOU’RE GONNA LISTEN TO ME! YOU’RE GONNA MAN UP! YOU’RE GONNA TAKE YOUR BALLS OUT OF YOUR PANTS RIGHT NOW! WE’RE GOING TO LAY OUR CARDS ON THE TABLE!

 YOU, Gus, don’t like me, YOU, Gus don’t like the Order of Heroes, but it has nothing to do with who we are and what we do! And I may not have a degree in psychology but I can be damn qualified to be your psychologist for a moment, it has everything to do with who you are not.

See the thing is, I talked with your citizens and when I asked them about you, what they only know is you at face value. See Gus, The people have absolutely no idea who you really are. That’s because when you were Prince of Askr you had the look, but man! oh man! Did you ever sucked! And it got really really difficult Gus, when that incident with that Skank Skank Skank ass Skank Hel, your own dad was the one who died a Hero to save your skin! While you amount to nothing more than a Zero.

 See Gus, you were boring, you weren’t charismatic, you weren’t heroic, you were vanilla- that’s right boring! And it kills you that you never amounted to anything the likes of Marth, Alm, and so on as a King, so you traded your lame-ass sword for your equally lame-ass axe. You went from somebody who was reckless to somebody who blames others for their potential recklessness.

 And now that you you’re Mr. Gus “High and Mighty” you take your eyes and look at someone like me, me from a world with no magic, me from a world on a brink of total annihilation thanks to idiots in power, me who was about to give up on life and end myself before Anna summoned me here! You took a good look at me and you can’t stand the fact that in just 2 years as Summoner and Tactician for the Order of Heroes, I’ve accomplished more than you ever had in your entire life!

 You! You know what? I don’t even know why I’m screaming. You just don’t have an original thought in your body, you accused us of being reckless when we had each others backs at all cost, as if we, and by that I mean the Order of heroes as a whole has become an extended family to your children! Especially Sharena, yeah that’s right the “childish, irresponsible princess” who for how many times you told her to shut up when all she wants is to voice her opinion and ease Alfonse’s burdens, or maybe even just a fucking THANK YOU, DAD!.

 So sure call your children whatever you want, but don’t you dare, don’t you fucking dare call either of them reckless for doing what’s right. Whether you like that or not, Gus. The fact of the matter is, that this whole “act of recklessness” you accuse us, especially Al of, is simply what we in the Order of Heroes call:

 BEING. A .HERO!

 “A Hero is the one who does an extraordinary and generous act of courage, which will or may result in the conscious sacrifice of themselves to protect the good of others” 

Just a small words from my home world, but they mean a lot especially when I met all these true born heroes who will fight for the good of us all.

 And if you want to have my head on a pike, well better men had tried and Surtr had failed. But you’re going to execute or banish me based on one thing: your pure jealousy of who I am and where I come from and the fact, the fact that I AM KIRAN! THE SUMMONER! THE TACTICIAN! THE GREAT HERO OF ASKRAN LEGEND! THE SAVIOR OF NIFL! SURTR’S BANE! YEAH THAT’S RIGHT I’M THE ONE! AND MAYBE JUST MAYBE SOMEDAY: THE SLAYER OF DEATH ITSELF!

 And you can’t stand it so you’re going to plan a way to get rid of me or have Alfonse and I separated.

Well let me tell you something, Gus: doesn’t matter what you do to me or my friends in our war against Hel, because by the end of it regardless whether we succeed or not, Me, Alfonse, Sharena, Anna, Eir and all of us heroes will still be better than you.

 And after that if you banish or execute me I’ll have my friends and the Kingdom, YOUR Kingdom of Askr doing something you wished your whole reign as King did: I’ll have them talking about you. You see, I’m not gonna revolt and wage war against Askr, I’m not gonna have any of the Ninjas here slit your throat while you sleep at night, but I’m gonna have those people talking about you for sure.

 In the future they’ll be talking how King Gustav of Askr, King Gustav the pathetic was nothing compared to his son King Alfonse and his friend, THE GREAT HERO KIRAN WHO KICKED MORE ASS THAN HE EVER DID IN HIS WHOLE LIFE!!!

 Gustav: ….

 Kiran: ….

 Gustav: By my right as King I hereby forbid any action this… “Order of Heroes” commit until further notice, and you, as an act of mercy I will spare you for this time for the sake of my children, but do this ever again and I will have your head!

 Kiran: And like that your jealousy shows itself, You’re Pathetic!

Later

Anna: Kiran? You alright?

Sharena: Kiran! How could you say that?!

Kiran: Oh but I mean it, Sharena. I swear i won’t let Alfonse die like this... It’s what Fjorm would have want...

[awkotacosummoner]

What Had Happened

Summary: Kiran asks Lif what had happened to the Kiran of his world.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24134002

Warnings: Major character death

Alfonse, no Lif, was seated in the castle’s garden.  A stone bench was next to rose bush.  Kiran realized it was the same bench that they and Alfonse would sit at all the time.  Alfonse always showed Kiran Askr’s stars, and Kiran would talk about how different they were compared to their world.

It was one of the things that Kiran just adored doing with the prince.  Nobody ever bothered them when they sat on that bench.  It was as if nothing else ever existed when they sat there together.

Kiran and Alfonse had silently to avoid the bench when Lif was summoned.  Kiran and Alfonse had been sitting there, enjoying themselves like they did every night.  But when they left, Kiran had noticed Lif not too far from where they sat.  Kiran brought it up to Alfonse and they decided that they would let Lif spend time there for a while.  It was the least they could do for him.

But for some reason, something just seemed to pull Kiran to this spot.  They knew full well that Lif would be there and that they should give him space, but they felt like they should go see him at least.

Kiran had stood there just watching quietly for about fifteen minutes before they finally got the courage to approach him.

When they finally did, they took a seat next to him on the bench.  Lif did not acknowledge them, but he made no effort to get them to leave either.  They just sat in silence for another few minutes before Kiran finally spoke up.

“Have you talked to anybody?” was all Kiran asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Have you talked to anybody about what you went through?” Kiran re-worded.  “Maybe Sharena?  She’s really worried you, you know...”

“I can’t.” said Lif.  “I put her through so much back in my world, I can’t do it to this world’s Sharena too.”

“What about me?  You know how great of a listener I am.”

“Kiran...” Lif slumped over, putting his face in his hands.  “You have no idea how much it hurts to see you, no matter the circumstance.  I see you all day, and then at night you’re in my nightmares.  Both you and Sharena.”

“Lif... I’m sorry, I had no idea.” Kiran apologized.  “I know it’s hard, but I really think you should talk to someone about this.  It’s not healthy to keep everything to yourself.  If you were to share that burden with someone, I’m sure you’ll feel at least a little bit better.”

Lif didn’t respond to that.  He knew Kiran had a point, but he believed it was his burden to bear.  No one else’s.  Kiran had pulled one of his hands from his face and slowly slipped his hand into theirs.  It was so cold for Kiran.  They gave the hand a tight squeeze before continuing.

“Could... Could you at least tell me what happened to the me in your world?  Keeping this to yourself is only going to hurt you, Lif.”

“Are you sure you can handle it, Kiran?  I can’t imagine how it must feel knowing that if things were just a bit different, you’d be dead.  Do you really want to know how it would’ve happened and what came after?”

Kiran thought for a moment before squeezing Lif’s hand a second time.

“Yes.”

Lif took a deep breath before telling Kiran what he’d been keeping to himself for so long.

----

“Al-Alfonse...” Kiran tried to speak through the gurgling noise of the blood in their throat.

“D-Don’t talk, Kiran.  Stay still, a healer should be here soon.  Everything will be okay.” Alfonse sobbed, cradling Kiran’s head in his lap.  His hand resting on their cheek, unable to look away from the gaping hole in Kiran’s gut.  It was obvious to anyone that Kiran was not going to make it, Alfonse refused to accept anything else.  He had already lost so much, if he were to lose the love of his life after his sister, it would be too much to bear.  

“I love you, so, so much, Alfonse.” Kiran rasped, a little bit of blood pooling out of their mouth and going down their chin.  “I just want you to know that I don’t regret coming here.  I’m so happy I got to meet you, my love.”

Alfonse held Kiran’s hand to his chest and simply nodded.  

“I love you too, Kiran.” he sobbed.  “I love you more than you could ever possibly know.  And I promise you, that I will find a way to bring you and everyone else back to me.   Both you and Sharena.”

“Don’t... push... yourself... ” Kiran’s breath was starting to get laboured, Alfonse realized as Kiran took a deep breath between words.  “Just focus... on surviving...”

As soon as Kiran had said that, Alfonse could feel their hand go limp in his.

Alfonse couldn’t bring himself to do anything except cry into his beloved’s hair.  He just sat there and cried until Eir had finally returned with Askr soldiers.

They had managed to convince Alfonse to return to the castle with them.  Eir stayed away from Alfonse, thinking he must have blamed her.

But in reality, Alfonse didn’t blame her.  He didn’t blame anyone except himself and Hel.  Hel took his parents away, slayed his sister before it was her time, and she had now taken the life of someone who should not have even been here in the first place. Hel.

This was all Hel’s fault.  Alfonse would not rest until he had personally destroyed Hel himself.  He clenched his fists in anger.  For the rest of the march back to the castle, all Alfonse could think of was how he was going to kill Hel.

----

When they had finally arrived back at the castle, it was pretty much empty.  No one except the castle staff and the kingdom’s army remained.  Alfonse discovered that all the heroes Kiran had summoned were returned to their worlds when Kiran died.  Kiran was the only thing keeping them in this world and now that they’re gone they weren’t able to stay.

He knew the castle would feel empty, but not this empty.  It was practically silent in the building.  There were a few confused servants, who were most likely confused by the sudden disappearance of all the heroes.

But Alfonse could care less right now.

He was all alone right now.

Yeah, sure; Eir was there.  He knew despite everything, she’s still there for him.  Kiran and Sharena both were close to her.  She loved them, and he knows she loves him too.  But he just can’t face her right now.  If he saw the daughter of the woman who killed his love and sister... he just didn’t want to throw any misdirected anger toward another victim.

----

Time blurred for Alfonse.  The moment he arrived at the castle he retreated into his room and had stayed there.  He had no idea how much time had passed.  One moment he looked out the window and the sun was up, he faced away for a bit and the next he looked it was dark.  He couldn’t really remember anything he had done for the past few days.  He vaguely remembers eating the meals that the castle staff had urged him to eat, but the meals were the only way he knew how much time had passed.

It must have been a week of this before he heard this frantic pounding on his bedroom door.  He slowly got out of bed and answered it.  No longer caring about appearances he put no effort into making himself look presentable.  When he opened the door he saw it was one of his general’s.  The name escaped his mind at the moment but the man immediately started his report.

“Prince Alfonse, Hel and her army have been seen marching toward the kingdom.  We believe she’s making her way for the Capital.”

Alfonse stood there for a second, taking in the news.  Not quite sure how to respond to this report.

A part of him was ashamed to admit that he didn’t really care about the war anymore.  Most of his kingdom is gone, most slayed by Hel and her army.  He had no real kingdom to protect anymore, he had no family to fight with him, and he no longer had a love to fight for.

But there was also a part of him who wanted to march straight to Hel and destroy her and get revenge for all that he had lost.  To make her pay for everything that she had done to him and his people.

He finally reached over and grabbed his sword and looked at the general.

“Grab any soldier who’s willing to fight.  We’re ending this once and for all.” he said.

“Y-Yes, sir!” the man saluted before running off toward the barracks.

Alfonse changed into his armor.  He wasn’t going to let Hel have her way, not without a fight.  That’s not what Kiran or Sharena would have wanted.  If Hel wanted a fight, well he’d give her one.

----

With both the Askr army and Hel’s army marching toward each other it wasn’t long before they met and engaged in combat.  Alfonse and what was left of the Askr army did what they could, but soon only Alfonse remained.  He held his sword up, directed at Hel and glared through the rain.

“It seems that after everything you still want to fight, Prince Alfonse.” Hel said, looking down at him from her throne.

“There is nothing you could do that would make me stop fighting you, Hel!” Alfonse yelled.  “I will kill you, and avenge everyone you’ve slaughtered!”

“Is that so?” she asked.  “Well if that’s what you want you’ll still have to reach me.  I have one guard who I think you’ll have difficulty fighting.”

“Send anyone, Hel!  I’ll kill them if it means I can finally kill you!”

Hel closed her eyes in thought for a second before opening them.

“Very well.” she said, and motioned for someone to come closer with her hand.

Alfonse readied his sword and got into position, he was going to cut down anyone who got in his way.

When the person Hel called for had finally reached the front of the army, Alfonse felt all the color drain from his face, he was nearly brought down to his knees from the shock.

There in front him, standing guard for Hel, was his beloved Kiran.

But Kiran didn’t look like themselves anymore.  Their skin was no longer the same color, instead it was a colorless gray.  Their eyes no longer held the same glow it usually had, they looked sunken and lifeless.  Even their hair looked dead and brittle.

It was then that Alfonse recalled one of Hel’s abilities.  She was able to bring the people she killed over to serve her.  As a part of her army of the living dead.

This... This was just too much.

This, he just couldn’t do.

Being forced to fight the person he had fallen in love with?  It was unthinkable.

“Alfonse...” Kiran’s small voice reached his ears, causing him to look them in the eye.  Kiran had a sword ready in their hands.  “Please, kill me.”

Alfonse’s eyes widened at their request.

“K-Kill you?  Kiran, I can’t kill you.  I’ve already seen you die once, I can’t handle it again.” Alfonse argued, feeling tears build up.

“You have to.” Kiran said, tears running down their face.  “If you don’t, I’m going to kill you, and I’m going to kill more people.  Innocent people.  I’ll never be able to rest as long as I live like this.  Alfonse, I can’t control my body at all.  Everything I’m doing is against my will.  I can’t stand this much longer.”

Kiran’s sobbing ripped Alfonse’s heart apart.  He remembered having to do this for his father after he took the curse meant for his son.  Kiran was right, they’d never be able to rest, never move on to the afterlife, as long as they were here a part of Hel’s army.

It was their last wish, for Alfonse to free them from this living Hell that they had been forced into.

Alfonse dragged them into all of this, he’ll get them out.  He promised.

Alfonse looked at Kiran through teary eyes and readied his sword.

“Alright, I’ll kill you.” Alfonse said in a tight voice.  “If it’ll free you from Hel’s will, I’ll do it.”

He saw Kiran smile through their tears before running over and raising their sword.

“I’m sorry!” Kiran cried.

“Don’t be.” Alfonse smiled as well, blocking Kiran’s sword.  Kiran was never strong to begin with.  Alfonse insisted they stay behind the army at all times so they never really had to learn how to use a weapon.  Alfonse knew that despite Hel controlling Kiran, they still couldn’t go beyond the limits they had when they were alive.  He knew that this was just to keep him from fighting.

Well, he wasn’t going to let her use Kiran as a shield.  He’d free Kiran from this nightmare and give them the peace of the afterlife that they deserved.  He at least owed them that much.

Alfonse closed his eyes and swung his sword and felt it penetrate skin.  His eyes clenched tighter when he heard Kiran grunt in pain.

‘This is for the best.’ He reminded himself.

He took a look and saw that his sword cut right through Kiran’s abdomen.  Kiran stood there for a second, sword still raised from moving to cut him down, frozen.

Kiran smiled before coughing up blood that splattered onto Alfonse’s face, but he didn’t even care.  Kiran’s arms dropped along with the sword and Alfonse caught them in his arms before they fell.

“Thank... you...” Kiran smiled as what little life they had left drained from their face.

“Anything for you, my love.” Alfonse said as he held their hand up to his cheek.  “Anything for you.”

----

“It was after that, that Hel proposed the deal.” Lif finished.

“The deal that if you served her she would bring back everyone who dies in this world back to life in your world?” Kiran asked.

“Yes.” he said.  “The thought of losing you not once but twice was too much to bear.  I couldn’t handle the idea of having that image of you working for Hel to be the last thing I saw of you.”

“Are you upset that I summoned you here?  Are you angry that you have to keep living in this world?”

Lif was silent for a second, but he spoke up after a few seconds of thinking.

“Sometimes.  It hurts that I’m not able to be with the Sharena and Kiran of my world.” he said.  “But being here, and seeing you two live happily now comforts me.  It makes me feel like I’ve made the right decision.  I feel like this is what the Kiran and Sharena of my world would have wanted.”

Kiran leaned onto Lif’s shoulder and squeezed his hand once more.

“I think so too.”

[emblian-empire]

Kiralfonse New Years Kiss

The other day @grimastiddies mentioned this idea in their discord and I’ve been thinking about it ever since hehe

Kiran was used to spearheading holiday celebrations around the Order of Heroes. When New Years had appeared on the horizon, however, Kiran had quickly found their position usurped by an especially excited group of Hoshidan siblings. Apparently, New Years was a big celebration in Hoshido, and Hinoka and Sakura were itching to put together a celebration for the entire Order. Naturally, they enlisted Azura and Ryoma and Takumi and at least two distinct Corrins’ aid, which left Kiran feeling like their were too many cooks in the kitchen, even before they tried to help. 

So New Years Eve came, and Kiran found themselves with distinctly less to do than they normally did around the holidays. True, they had done most of the preparations for the Order’s Christmas party themselves, but Kiran had been expecting to run another event after that and well. Not having said event to plan had left them a little lost.

They said as much to Sakura, who only giggled and finished tying the knot into Kiran’s obi. 

“You’ll just have to relax and try to enjoy yourself,” Sakura replied. 

Kiran muttered an agreement, just a little off-put by the idea. Relax, they told themselves, it’ll be fun. 

And Kiran tried, honestly. They had a few drinks with Ephraim, chatted about silly tactical puzzles with Robin and Leo, and eventually stole a plate of mochi from Elise and went out into the garden for some peace and quiet. They were sitting on a fountain’s edge, staring up at the stars and trying to rein in the manic energy they felt at having nothing better to do but relax. They were certainly not pouting. 

Naturally that was when Alfonse found them. He was smiling, just slightly, amused at the situation Kiran had found themselves in. “I’ve been told that without a party to micromanage, you don’t know what to do with yourself,” Alfonse said, teasing. 

Kiran huffed and muttered something incoherent around the mochi in their mouth, sullen. They swallowed and finally said, “Well, only because I had so many ideas for a New Years party, that’s all.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were pouting,” Alfonse replied. He sat down next to Kiran on the fountain’s edge, and Kiran glanced at him sullenly from the corner of their eye. He looked good in the light blue kimono that Azura had chosen for him.

Kiran’s face morphed into an exaggerated scowl. “I’m not pouting.”

“Of course. You’re just upset that you didn’t get to use all of your many New Years party ideas.” Kiran wasn’t looking at Alfonse, but they had a pretty good idea what his face looked like, if his mocking tone was anything to judge by. 

“Yeah, exactly. Don’t make fun of me, New Years Eve is an important holiday where I’m from, too,” Kiran replied. They were only stretching the truth a little- Of course, New Years Eve and New Years day was an important holiday to many folks on earth. Kiran just wasn’t really one of them. They had been to a few parties for New Years during their time on earth, but that was about it. 

“Alright, I believe you, and I’d love it if you could enlighten me on what New Year's customs customs from your world you would have had us partake in,” Alfonse said, his teasing tone fading away just a little. He knew that Kiran was bluffing about something, but at the same time, he found the customs of Kiran’s world fascinating and wanted to know everything Kiran was willing to share with him. For next year, if nothing else. 

On the other side of the conversation, Kiran was panicking a little. As soon as the idea of kissing Alfonse at midnight had entered their head, they hadn’t been able to think of anything else. Kiran couldn’t think of another New Year’s custom to save their life. 

“Well,” Kiran began. They swallowed awkwardly, because they had been eating a lot of sweets and their throat was dry. “It’s common for. . . Well, where I come from people like to. . .” 

“Yes?” Alfonse promoted. He leaned in just a little, because Kiran’s voice had gone very soft. 

“People who are, well, especially close, I suppose, like to. . . to kiss at midnight, right as the new year starts, for, you know, luck and all that. In the new year.”

“I see,” Alfonse replied. He was flushing, just a little, at the custom that Kiran had just described, and the underlying meaning that their tone of voice conveyed. 

He wasn’t sure what to say, so he said the first thing that came to mind. “That sounds a little stressful. How do you even know exactly when the new year begins?”

Kiran relaxed a little at the question, which had a straightforward, not-emotionally-involved, answer. “We have very accurate ways of telling time in my world, so it’s not hard, really. Like the clocks you have in Askr, except they never get out of sync and everyone has one with them all the time.”

Alfonse hummed thoughtfully. “We don’t have anything like that in Zenith, I’m afraid, so that might make enacting your custom a little difficult.”

Kiran relaxed a little at the obvious rejection, although they felt a pang of disappointment as well. 

“Yes, it wouldn’t really be possible. . .” Kiran began, right as Alfosne said, “You would have to exchange a lot more than one kiss to assure you were kissing at midnight.”

Kiran’s gaze swiveled over to Alfonse. Their mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out. Finally, they said, “I’m sorry, what?”

“I said,” Alfonse said, holding Kiran’s gaze firmly in his own, “That we’d have to kiss a lot more than once to make sure we were kissing exactly at midnight. Or else we’d risk missing out on the good luck.”

Kiran was struck silent for a moment.

“And with the way things have been in Askr lately, I’d be a fool to turn down any good luck I could get,” Alfonse explained, grinning in the light coming from the stars and soft glow of the torches from the castle a lifetime away. 

Alfonse leaned in as he spoke, so when Kiran replied, their lips were only a hair's breadth away from his. “I can’t argue with that logic,” they said, voice going soft and breathy at the end as Alfonse pressed a chaste kiss to their lips.

He pulled away, just a little, so that Kiran could see that he was grinning as he said, “Do you think it’s the new year yet?”

“We’d better keep going, just to be sure,” Kiran replied. And they closed the distance between them again.

--------------------

And that’s the story of how Sharena walked in on Alfonse and Kiran making out in the gardens at 1am on New Years Day.

[newmansa]

'The light was all that kept her going'

excerpt from a book i... might write?

*

"Oh come on, that the best you've got?" Kieran taunted after another layup. His father Mason was bent over, wheezing under the hoop.

"You know you got game son, but your trash talk needs work." Mason straightened up as Kieran wheeled back to the top of the the key. He played point guard on the school team, but games against his father were always close. Today was no exception.

"Game's played with your hands, not your mouth old man."

Mason rolled his eyes as he picked up the ball.

"Alright then, prove it."

He tossed the ball to Kieran, who started a patient approach to the basket. Mason grinned to himself. The kid's great bursting to hoop with speed, but his dribble gets sloppy when the game slows down. Mason spread his arms wide, waiting for his son to make a mistake. He stepped back slightly, lulling Kieran into thinking he had space, then pounced.

"Ha!" Mason exclaimed after stealing the ball. Before Kieran even knew what was happening, Mason had already spun around and hit a quick jump shot. He'd played small forward in college and his shot was still buttery smooth.

"And that's game." Mason announced.

Kieran wiped the sweat from his face with the back of his hand.

"Good game, Dad." He went over and offered Mason a high five, before they both collapsed onto a bench by the garage.

"Yeah you made me earn it. That step back jumper is something fierce."

"Coach Gav doesn't think so. He wants me to shoot less."

"Eh, what does he know." Mason winked at Kieran before taking a drink of water. They were both still panting from the game, and took a moment to catch their breath. Kieran sat back on the bench, and a sly smile crept onto his face.

"You know, I still remember the first time I beat you."

Mason sat up on the bench.

"Oh yeah?'

"Yeah," Kieran said as he nodded his head. "It must've been like ninth grade or something. I remember cause I'd just learned the step back in school that day and it kept working on you."

Mason laughed. "That does ring a bell. Too bad it didn't work today." He said, nudging Kieran. It was nice to see Kieran excited about something. Mason often felt disconnected from his son and he was never quite sure what Kieran was thinking. Basketball always brought them closer together.

"So," Mason cleared his throat, "You're serious about Italy huh?"

Kieran was a little startled by the sudden topic change. He'd told his father a few days earlier that he was thinking of visiting Rome, but nothing much came from the conversation.

"Oh, uh yeah. Been saving up for it actually."

"That's great," Mason said, genuinely happy to hear Kieran was doing something so responsible. A silence hung in the air for a moment, as a gentle breeze picked up.

"Is it because of your mother?"

Kieran looked away, almost embarrassed that his father would ask something so brazen. Mason noticed Kieran tense up, a familiar sight when he mentioned Esther. Mason was about to give up when Kieran responded.

"It's just," He paused. Kieran struggled to find the right words. "You and Toby got to spend time with her and-"

"I know," Mason interrupted, but he really didn't. Esther died from complications after giving birth to Kieran, and Kieran knew his father didn't understand what that was like for him. They hardly ever spoke about her, and Mason would grow especially distant around Kieran's birthday.

"I just feel like I don't know who she was, Dad."

The statement seared Mason. All these years he'd tried to protect Kieran from the grief, but in the process he'd robbed his son of a mother. Now was as good a time as any to set that right.

"Can I tell you the story about your name, son?"

Kieran didn't respond. Both of them were staring blankly at the lawn in front of them. The breeze had picked up, and Kieran noticed as the head of a dandelion was blown away.

"We were excited when we found out we were having another baby. She loved your sister more than anything in the world, but Esther always wanted a little baby boy."

Kieran winced when he heard his mother's name and closed his eyes. Mason didn't notice, and continued.

"She wanted it to be a surprise when you were born, but a few months in she started having terrible pains. She struggled when she was pregnant with Toby, but this was something different. After a few days, we decided to go see the specialists."

Mason's breathing tensed up as he told the story. The breeze continued to grow stronger, but the sun began to peak out from the clouds overhead.

"She was overwhelmed by all the procedures and tests, especially since none of them helped with the pain. There were days when she couldn't even get out of bed. Toby was only four at the time, and your mother felt guilty that she couldn't help out more. It was a dark time for her, and nothing seemed to help.

"We decided to find out the sex of the baby to try cheer her up. When we heard you were going to be a boy, Esther smiled for the first time what must have been weeks. From that day onwards, she kept talking about you as her light. She would always talk about how she felt everything around her was getting so dark, but this little baby boy was going to be a light at the end of it.

"She would say things like, 'the light is kicking today' or 'the light's moving around a lot'. Some days, it felt like the light was all that kept her going."

Kieran's breathing got heavy as he fought back the tears. He knew if he looked anywhere else he'd break down, so he clenched his jaw and kept his eyes on the dandelion.

"A month or two before you were born, we started thinking about names," Mason continued. "We looked at names from other languages, and your mother came across the Hindi name 'Kiran'. It means light"

Keiran frowned in confusion.

"Wait," he interrupted. "Kieran isn't Hindi."

Mason turned to his son.

"I know," he said with a pained smile. "Esther had a Scottish great uncle Kieran, so we decided to spell Kiran the Gaelic way and thought nothing of it. Turns out it means 'little dark one'. I thought she'd be heartbroken when she found out, but she thought it was hilarious, so we kept it."

In that moment, Mason realised he had never told anyone that story. Esther would say he was bottling up his emotions.

Kieran looked away and shut his eyes as hard as he could.

"Why wouldn't you tell me this?"

Mason didn't respond. The truth was he didn't have a good answer. The breeze grew calmer and Kieran's voice shook as his eyes welled up with tears.

"I'm going to Rome, Dad. I'm serious about that."

[yukiwrites]

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."

[dragcnburned]

.intro

Intro under the read more! Like this post and I’ll come plot with you.

Hold! Who goes there? Why, is that [Kirian Solgard] the [Dragonrider] of [Loqoala]? They do look [guarded] for a [man] of [33] years. Don’t they call [him] the [passionate and caring empath]? I’ve heard he’s also the [self-destructive and reckless Dragonburned] though. Don’t take my word for it but they do look an awful lot like [Ben Barnes].

Basic info

Name: Kirian Solgard

Pronunciation: kee-ree-yahn sol-guard [ki:riːjæn sɒl’gɑːd]

Title: dragonrider

Age:33

Place of Origin: Loqoala

Family Members: Mother, father, a brother and a sister

Physical Description

Height: 1m85

Hair Color: black

Eye Color: black 

Gender: cis male

Build: lean, slender

Distinguishing features? (Scars, tattoos, piercings): From his right jawline, down his neck and his shoulder/upper arm, a burn scar creeps down all the th

Any health related issues?: suffers from ptsd and depression, causing insomnia, and has trouble completely lifting his right arm.

Personality

Kirian is a man whose reputation precedes him. A man who’s decided he may as well live up to it. There is a reckless, intimidating yet oddly innocent charm about him, the kind of cheerfulness only a man with nothing to lose can feel. But don’t let his smiles fool you -- he wears the like armor, just like the scars that mar his skin. Just like the words the townsfolk would throw at him. Intense, determined and passionate, Kirian is not as adept at fading into the shadows as a wanted man would wish. Despite all this, it seems people can spend many hours around him and still not know anything. Kirian has learned to entertain people with his gruesome existence for a while -- but don’t dig any deeper, you’ll just find a locked door. 

History

i. Dragonrider

Kirian was born to a family of simple, honest, hard-working longshoremen. Lost in the drab underbelly of the Loqoalan society, there wasn’t much in unique trade or secrets they could offer. So they just worked, day in, day out. They were hard people and the days blurred into nights of working. So many things to do, so few things to feel.

Except for Kirian.

Kirian was always an easily distracted boy. He would be fascinated by the spider crawling through the spiderweb, instead of ripping it away to lift a box. He would smile and talk and flirt with the men and women of the ships, instead of just keeping his head down and doing his job. He would have all these thoughts, all these emotions. He was just so much all the time and his parents had little patience for his antics, although they loved him as best as they could.

But he had a talent for keeping animals calm -- lambs to be led to the slaughter, wild horses bucking after days on a ship, even the exotic birds for the lords trying to break free. An odd talent, but it earned them some status, so they let him be. Loved and useful, Kirian’s talent grew, until one day the the unthinkable happened: social, cheerful and empathic, Kirian earned himself the grace of the lord’s house and was chosen as an apprentice to the dragonriders.

As a Dragonrider, Kirian proved himself spectacularly talented, even as he was still the wildcard many had trouble fitting into a safe category. He feels too much, they whispered behind his back, he is not fit to be a dragonrider. 

But if you are as powerful as Kirian proved himself to be, such things become obsolete. So he gained favor and his family did as well.

Powerful, loved and with a bright future ahead -- what more could a boy want?

ii. Dragonburned

A purpose. A mission. Rumours of terrible things had reached the ears of the dragonriders, rumors that with the use of forbidden blood magic, elves had been enslaving dragons to their will. Kiran was chosen for the mission, along with a few select others: the greatest honor of their lives. A mission of utmost importance was planned: to free the dragons.

Or so they had Kirian believe.

The ritual to break the bond was gruesome and draining, but it succeeded. But it didn’t stop there. The reality of war had started to dawn on the Loqualan officers and the powers a dragon could bring in that fight was just too important. Besides, they argued as the dragon riders showed reluctance, isn’t this what they’ve always been doing? This was just a different way to get to the same result. Just faster, just a small sacrifice in the name of good, in the name of safety.

Trusting in the words of their superiors, the dragonriders reluctantly accepted.There was a war coming and this was not the time to be weak. This was not the time to doubt the people that had given them so much.

Even Kirian. Despite his protest, his reluctance, even Kirian didn’t want to fight back too much, didn’t want to let down the people who had taken such care of him. His whole life they had told him he felt too much, felt all the wrong things at the wrong times, that his heart screamed so much louder than his head. He wanted so much to prove them wrong, but all he did was prove them right that day.

As the dragon, forcefully bonded, felt Kirian’s insecurity, hurt, betrayal and even rage fill their own heart, it took to the sky, raining down fire and ashes upon the dragonriders, stopping at nothing as the forest burned and burned and burned.

It was only through his friendship with a present military officer that Kirian could take enough control to break the empathic bond between him and the dragon, stilling the blood magic in his veins. In anger and fear, the dragon turned on Kirian, burning his armor and leaving deep claw marks over his chest and arm, nearly piercing his heart. Before the dragon killed him however, they seemed to change their mind and left.

Knowing that he could never explain what had happened without also taking down the family he had come to love so much, Kirian disappeared from Loquala, from everything he had ever know. Tales of the tragedy spread, earning him the nominker The Dragonburned.

Additional Info and plots!

Honestly, I prefer to plot by just looking what kind of development our muses need, so if there is anything at all you think a character like Kirian could set in motion, please let me know. I’m not afraid to let Kirian make mistakes or have him be the “bad guy”, so even if the plot is a little darker, I’m absolutely here for it!

Kirian is trying to atone and recover from some really fucked up shit that happened to him, so either plots dealing with him recovering, or having to deal with consequences of what happened, or people trying to take advantage of his unstable emotions could all work. I could definitely see Kirian being manipulated in doing some terrible things again if people go about it the right way, on honestly any side of this conflict.

I love plots to go somewhere, that deal with characters growing and facing who they are and what they’ve done. So honestly, I’m open for anything!

I know that sometimes you need a starting point though, so here are some extra ideas and wanted connections

.keep you safe: You’ve listen to enough stories to know who Kirian is when he stumbles across you. You’re also in desperate need of protection and it seems no one else is willing to lend you a hand, so maybe for now you can strike a deal.

THE VULTURES SWARM MY BONES. You’ve heard the rumors about Kirian and are interested in learning more -- to have a great story, or for political gain, either way Kirian seems like a person of interest to you.

BLOOD MOON: You don’t have much, least of all power. And while everything is telling you Kirian is dangerous, at least he’s more than you are now. Why not see where it goes, have a chance at adventure?

and then the universe was still: someone trained in the low, ritualistic art of healing. After Kirian was forced into using blood magic, his own magic has progressively gotten worse. It gets stronger, but in the wrong way. Where he once healed, he can now only induce pain. Where he once felt emotions, he can now twist them into something grotesque. Ashamed and afraid of these powers and suffering through them, Kirian is looking for a mentor who could undo the damage to his magical abilities. Someone who can bring some peace to his screaming mind.

the devil screams through your mouth: you are the dragon Kirian freed, only to force a bond upon you again. The pain and terror of your forceful empathic bond was so agonizing, you acted on base instinct and under control, left nothing but death, chaos and fire in your way. While you are forever grateful Kirian let you go in the end and the bonding process left something between you, you can’t forgive or forget the way everything started.

old men, filled with regret: you knew Kirian when he was a young man, full of life and love and seemingly always smiling. Whether you find it hard to believe he did what they say he did, or whether his downfall was your rise in the ranks, seeing him again will surely be meaningful.

not who you are underneath, but what you do that defines you: when fire swallowed your village whole, when ash clung to your eyelashes, you crawled on your belly to get out. You are (one of?) the only survivor of the village that Kirian destroyed. What will you do when you finally find him?

[summoner-stones]

King Alfonse x f!summoner fcking on his throne please

YALL DONT ASK WTF THIS IS OK. NSFW BELOW

How funny life could be sometimes. Time had passed in Askr.No longer was she the timid girl who was summoned to this world from out of nowhere.No longer was she the inexperienced tactician fumbling in her strategies. Now,she was the lead tactician and Summoner of this world, a world that wasn’t evenher own. Along the way she met countless friends, and even more foes. But she hadalso met a special loved one here. Her sweet prince.

Alfonse wasn’t thesame prince she first met. No, he had changed and matured along the way. Hisface had become sharper, his eyes focused and determined, his body strengthened,and his demeanor, fit for a king. He wasn’t the same prince who questionedhimself on his every action or that let others dictate his worth. No, thatprince was long gone, and now a king was in his place.

That same blush and smile was still there, however. Eventhough he was now older, he still found himself flustered around Kiran. Stillthat hint of shyness around his Summoner. Kiran always found that amusing abouthim.

He sat on his throne, looking so regal and handsome. Hisgentle eyes taking in every inch of Kiran as she sat on his lap. She pepperedhim with kisses all over. On his cheeks, on his forehead, and even trailed evenfurther down to his neck. He squirmed under her attention, the odd breathy gaspescaping him. He looked so cute…so vulnerable under her grasp.

Every movement of herhips made him moan. She was just teasing him, playing with him for just a littlebit, but just that little bit of movement was driving him wild. His kissesbecoming more desperate, his grasp on her even tighter, and breath becomingshaky.

Finally, she wiggled out of her pants, and managed to takeoff his as well, and plopped back down on his lap with just her panties on. Shecould feel just how needy he was for her, his member already poking her throughher underwear. She barely did a thing and he was already in this state. Ah,perhaps the prince never did change.

She continued to kiss him, leaving small little bites along hisneck. Every nip elicited a moan from him, every rub of her hand against hisgroin, a shudder. His hips bucked in rhythm to her hand, trying to continue tofriction even further, but it wasn’t enough for him. She didn’t want to givehim everything he wanted right away. Her hands roamed and groped whatever theyfound, every sensitive spot producing a whine from his mouth. The poor king waspractically becoming undone before her, and what a sight it was.

“P-Please, K-Kiran,enough with this teasing…I need you,” he finally admitted.

“You need me?” shequestioned with the grind of her hips.

“I- “his requestwas cut short with a loud enough moan that resounded through the empty room. Adesperate, and whiny sound. “P-Please…”

She let out a laugh, feeling a little bad for teasing him,but the end result was always worth it. She grasped his chin gently and lookedat her handiwork. His hair disheveled, his eyes glossed over, his cheeks a cutepink, and his breath ragged. What a sight.

“Of course, my king.”

With the quickness of her hand, she moved her underwear asideand guided him to her entrance. She slid down on him slowly, enjoying hownicely he filled her up, how hot he felt. The pleasure was already too much tobear, if he moved just a little bit, she felt like she could come undone fromjust that.

His head was tilted back and slightly to the side, his eyesshut tightly, and his mouth slightly agape. He must already be at his limitstoo. After finally becoming adjusted, she decided to move her hips slowly. Hefelt amazing, every bit of him hitting all the right spots. Even she couldn’tcontain the gentle gasps leaving her. But he was already too desperate frombefore, poor Alfonse needed more.

He grabbed her hips tightly and made her follow his ownrapid rhythm. He was done with these games and the teasing, he needed to finish,now. Kiran didn’t expect his rough and fast pace, feeling herself alreadyreaching her limit from just the few thrusts of his. She leaned forward and letherself be taken by him, letting her moans out at the back of his neck.

After just a few seconds, his needy moans finally halteredafter one strained, choked gasp. He finished inside of her, letting out a quiet,‘gods, Kiran’. Kiran laughed as shefelt numb from the waist down. It was a good, pleasure-hazed feeling, a finalrelease from the long teasing session. She gave him a final kiss and thankedhim, “thank you for the wonderful sightsand sounds, my king.”

[nordic-breeze]

I was going through my files and I came over this document I sent to my friend @distant-rain pretty much the same day I realized I had fallen in love with Arthur, after weeks of being in denial or shrugging off my daydreaming of this cowboy as nbd or thought experiments and boy was I confused. 

I knew next to nothing about RDR1 when I wrote this December last year and I didn’t know much about RDR2 post chapter 2 either except for Arthur’s fate, which I had just learned of, and oml was I upset and confused. Though also scaringly accurate about certain things.

Now over six months later, I love this cowboy even more. And I kept true to my word. If anyone wanna read the rambings of a fangirl who had just found her new obsession be my guest.

I was blown away by how massive this game is. The level of detail is incredible and I greatly appreciate the effort put into creating this world. Yeah, we’ve all heard about the horse testicles shrinking in cold weather but it’s not like it’s just one bizarre detail being essentially a dick joke in an otherwise average game. No, RDR2 is detailed enough that it actually makes sense to add in peculiarities like that. The amount of wildlife alone, I mean, ever since the PS2 era I’ve been used to seeing animals in games but R* created whole-ass ecosystems in RDR2, several of’em, from snowy mountains to marshlands, with animals that act so much like actual animals. Just listening to the birds singing, it’s like being out in an actual forest!

Characterization is another thing that amazed me, in particular the protagonist. I knew nothing about the first RDR when started playing RDR2, nor did I know anything about RDR in general other than it was western-themed and made by the GTA-guys. I expected somewhat of a similar characterization as GTA where every character is a stereotype or a caricature. I genuinely liked GTAV’s story for what it was and even though every character was more or less an asshole, some of them were also weirdly likeable and even earned my sympathy (and hint of affection) occasionally.

But it never really went deeper than that nor was it particularly long-lasting (still way more than I expected tho). I bonded with one of the characters more than I thought I would but not nearly as much as I would had the characters felt more like actual humans and not like the epitome of stereotypes. But it is what R* wanted and it worked. I expected the RDR2 characters to be the same but to my surprise the characters, especially Arthur, are fleshed out, complex, even relatable (depending on your actions I guess). Unlike GTAV, they act and react like actual human beings. Well, human beings that have lived their entire life (more or less) as outlaws. In a country and time period foreign to me. But still they felt human. Ofc I’ve not gotten to know any of the NPC’s as well as Arthur but from various missions and eavesdropping on their conversation I’ve gotten to know them a bit. Hosea is my favorite. He seems like a good man despite being an outlaw and I love how everyone goes to him for advice and how supportive he is. I also wish more people (esp a certain Dutch man) could listen to him more. I also really like Charles. He definitely got morals and could be a good influence on Arthur and the others. I haven’t seen much of Sadie yet, but think I’ll like her too. Lenny seems nice. That one scene when he and Arthur went out drinking together was absolutely brilliant! And lil Jack’s adorable ofc. Only one I don’t like is Micha or Miach or whathisname. I know no one in the van der Linde gang are saints but that guy is a total psychopath. I kinda wish Arthur had gotten his way there when he said they should just leave him in jail as he was nothing but trouble and it annoys me how Dutch is sticking up for him. Yeah, speaking of, not too fond of Dutch or that German guy either atm.

But all in all very impressed by the large open world, the level of details to well, everything and the characterization. Soundtrack is great, graphics are stunning, animations smooth, the horse-riding simulation is just extraordinary and you never know what’s gonna happen as you ride through the map. The amount and variety of random events and encounters are truly impressive. Often comical, like that wildlife photographer who keeps getting almost eaten up by the wildlife he’s trying to document, sometimes eerie like the serial killer side story, or sad like when Arthur met with his former love. Or a combination of said elements like the pig farmers I ran into. With no pigs. But were still veeery well fed. You know, when people are just a liiitle bit too friendly? That eerie feeling you get when you just know something’s wrong but you can’t quite put your finger on it. Until you can. I thought they were husband and wife I really did. You shoulda seen my face when I realized they were in fact brother and sister. Me and Arthur had the exact same face. They were living as husband and wife tho. Well, up until I killed them.

I also love the contrast between the more ‘modern’ world and the simpler life. I could go into town, buy food at the saloon and rent a room or take a bath at the hotel. Or I could ride a few mins out into the wilderness, hunt and gather my own food, cook it over a bonfire and sleep under the stars. Electricity exists, but people are still completely dependent on oil lamps and open flame. Trains and trams exist, cars have been invented, but people still mainly travel on horseback. This contrast between old and new as an era is ending and the modern era is about to begin has been an amazing experience considering the level of detail the game has. The colonization of the new land, which has been largely unknown to me, the contrast between this and modern-day America we see on TV. So many people did not even speak English, I often find abandoned buildings, or burnt-down buildings, some with bodies inside, leaving me wondering what happened to them, I found a ghost town whose inhabitants had been wiped out by a plague. It was tough for many I reckon.

In fact, I find the exploration of this foreign but also somewhat familiar, beautiful but harsh world and its many random events and encounters waaay more interesting than the actual main story itself, which is why it took me forever to reach chapter 3. In fact, the story is probably my least favorite part about RDR2, as backwards as it may sound. I’ve never been into western stories or aesthetics, and I’m certainly NOT into the whole ‘outlaws till the end’ stuff ugh. I fail to sympathize with the whole ‘boo-hoo the world no want outlaws like us no more it’s unfair’. Ugh, go cry me a fucking river. And then go get a job. A real job. Yeah, I get it that adapting to society is tough, life’s tough deal with it and stop preying on others. Wow, robbing two trains in short time and staying in the same fucking area actually has consequences, I’m so shook!

So yeah, story-wise I don’t quite ‘get it’ and Dutch is really starting to get on my nerves, which is probably why I prefer to just ride off alone and experience the world. I guess RDR2 story will rely heavily on being torn between gang loyalty and your own morality and principles but since I have virtually no concept of group loyalty that is all lost on me. My own morals and principles all the way. I’m like, ‘these people suck, take Hosea, Charles, Sadie, Tilly (maybe John Marston and his family) and leave these bitches behind’.

At the beginning, I did kinda liked Dutch. He seemed genuinely sorry for Sadie, took her in and saved her life, even if it meant another mouth to feed in dire times. And he showed Kiran mercy despite hating the O’Driscol’s. But as I’ve progressed thought the game, his grand speeches about sticking together, sticking with him, slowly but surely has turned from pep-talk to keep people’s spirit up to sounding like a cult leader desperate to keep his following no matter the cost. Yesterday when I was playing, I overheard him quote some quasi-philosophy book to Lenny and used the words to twist them into his own convictions to support his decisions. And when Lenny objected, Dutch literally said ‘you’re breaking my heart, kid’. Wow Dutch, talk about manipulating your protégé.

It was the mission when those lawmen approached Arthur as he was fishing with Jack that really made me consciously see Dutch in a new light. Up until then, RDR2 had mostly been fun and games but that conversation left me feeling a bit uneasy. But I just figured it was the main story finally picking up pace and also, I figured I was near the end of the chapter. I carried on, suddenly eager to see what would happen and was thoroughly surprised by how the chapter ended. In a bad way.

While both chapter 2 and chapter 3 begins with a ‘new start’ vibe, chapter 3 felt very different from chapter 2. Mostly it was that feeling that Dutch’s obsession with ‘sticking to this life’ is going to get people killed. Idk, it’s this eerie feeling something’s wrong but can’t quite put my finger on it-feel again. But thanks to internet being internet I already knew some spoilers so I couldn’t help but to look up something and… well, let me put it this way. I’m never going to finish this game. Ever. It breaks my heart because in so many ways it’s truly an amazing game and a fantastic experience. But I’m just not that into the story, I don’t like where it’s heading and I don’t want to see what’s coming to character(s) I’ve come to care deeply about.

I still want to explore the world more, see what unfolds, do more challenges, add stuff to my compendium, maybe get some trophies… but I doubt I’ll ever progress much story-wise. Quite the contrary, I might reload an earlier save and just stay in chapter 2 forever.

(wrtten a couple of days later)

Seems my instincts was right on the money, esp concerning Dutch. Sad thing, I do believe he is sincere. In the first few chapters at least. He is manipulative but I also believe he’s convinced himself that he’s doing the right thing. And then his obsession will eventually get the better of him and when people and the lifestyle is slipping away from him, he doesn’t handle it well at all. Ugh, it’s so frustrating, I just wanna gather all my favs and yell: “leave nooow, before it’s too late!

It’s not for the sake of spacing it out or making it last. I just don’t want to progress in the story at all. I hated losing Horseshoe Overlook. HATED IT HATED IT HATED IT!!!! Yes the new place is beautiful, yes I know it’s the life of the outlaws and RDR2 does show that life for better and for worse whereas most stories tend to romanticize the whole thing, yes as outlaws they can’t stay for too long in one place. But as mentioned I have a hard time sympathize with and immerse myself into that lifestyle. Yes, I got all my upgrades and a whole new area to explore, a bigger nearby town, and closer to that big city. Still hated it. Horseshoe Overlook was my place. The Heartlands was home. And the view was stunning! And I liked Valentine. It was small and dirty but I had good memories from there. Until I had to shoot up half the town. My motivation for continuing the main story is at absolute zero.

It was more what the transition represented, I guess. You never know what will happen in RDR2. And it’s true, for random encounters, and many of the individual missions. But when it comes to the story as a whole, I feel like I already now can predict how it’ll play out. Every chapter begins with the gang on the move, finding a place to settle down and have a fresh start, even chapter 1 (as they were on the run bc a heist gone wrong or something). Then they settle down, go into town to get to know the area and establish connections and looking for easy money, often at the expenses of others. X random events later, they get too overconfident or careless, screws up or get hunted down, it ends with a shootout, then they are on the run again, finds a new place to settle down where Dutch promises that THIS TIME IT WILL BE DIFFERENT until they’re wanted on the entire map and can’t go anywhere cos the wild west is ending. I really liked it at Horseshoe Overlook and whenever Im in that area again I’ll just get sad.

I had no idea I’d gotten so emotionally invested so I was really surprised at how much I disliked moving camps and all. I’ve also gotten so fond of Arthur. I was so busy with exploring, doing challenges, learning to hunt etc I didn’t even realize it happening. Until one scene had me almost tearing up! I think because, we as the player really have to look out for him. Even though I make sure that he eats regularly, he’s still underweight. When out riding I usually set up camp when night falls so that Arthur can get some rest. Something I’d never think about in any other game. And I always give him coffee in the morning. Then it’s his journal that gives such valuable insight into who he truly is as a person. There’s no doubt he’s so much more than just a mere outlaw. He writes surprisingly well and is open and is surprisingly honest about his thoughts and feelings. How torn he is between the life of an outlaw and wanting to be a better man, a better person. How he admired Charles because, for him it was ‘so easy to just be good’ whereas he himself always feel torn between good and evil. And his journal entries when he meets his long-lost love Mary and saves her brother from the cultists. The expression on his face as he said goodbye to her on the train station… how utterly heartbroken he was… how she still loved him too… man, that one tore at my heart. Still does when thinking about it.

I wish I could take Hosea, Charles, Sadie, Tilly, John’s family and maybe Lenny too with me, run off and start anew. Charles would have good influence on Arthur and encourage him to turn his life around and find his place in society and encourage John to be a better father and role model for Jack and they could all learn how to live as free men and women without robbing or hurting anyone (unless they deserve it). Like, Charles is an excellent hunter and tracker. He’d totally get enough food for the gang and maybe even enough to sell. He could train Jack too. Hosea was always more of a conman/grifter than a brute/robber. He could con bad guys or rich assholes Robin Hood style. If anyone gave him grief, John and Arthur would settle the score. Arthur could sell animal pelts and John could take up carpeting. They’d be such a happy lil family. But, RDR1 is yet to happen so it’s all just wishful thinking *sigh*