#we stan these two being idiot friends even if dart doesnt remember being dan

[chubbyheroesworthyheroes]

Could you do a story with Wil and Dart from FE7, please? Preferably, it would start with Dart gaining weight unintentionally and Wil would then gain some weight accidentally as well. Thanks and sorry if I did this incorrectly.

Dart and Wil hadn’t really gotten off on the right foot when they first met back in the war. Wil had come off as a bit empty-headed, and had mistaken the pirate for someone he knew but had since lost contact with. Dart had been more than a little brusque with the young man, simultaneously seeming to want to brush him off and pound his face in out of sheer annoyance. 

But, after a few run-ins, they sort of found even ground with each other. They were able to fight alongside each other well, and even saved the other’s skin more than once on the battlefield. Dart might not have been who Wil thought he was at first, but a bond had still been created on the trust of comrades.

This carried over years later, when the war with Nergal and the Black Fang had been finished, and everyone had resumed their lives. Wil had gone back to Caelin, staying there in the archery division even after Ostia took over control of the area. Dart had, of course, gone back to Fargus’ pirates. The two met up as frequently as they could in Badon, sharing stories both old and new. Of course, with only so much time before one of them would inevitably get pulled away to handle their individual duties again, they tended to stay in Badon and catch up as much as they could. 

They tended to share a room at this pub that also had lodging -- if you knew the right people, or so Dart said. The room was cheap enough when split between them, and they only had to go downstairs for a drink or some food. It made it incredibly easy to just chat the days away, since they didn’t have to go running all over the port town for their needs, but it also made it very easy to, perhaps, overindulge a bit.

Whatever time of day it was that they were able to meet at the pub, they’d settle in for whatever meal was being offered at the time. Being a port town, more often or not it was some sort of seafood, but sometimes there were other offerings available. Plates piled high with all kinds of fried fish and shrimp, with equally loaded up sides of vegetables smothered in some sort of creamy sauce or heavenly soups that warmed them up from the inside out. And, without fail, there was always plenty of beer to go along with the food and their hours of talk. The more they drank and chatted the hour away, the more they could foolishly pack away into their stomachs before eventually, drunkenly, staggering their way back up the stairs to collapse into a deep slumber.

Only to repeat it the following day, and the one after that, until either Dart was called back to his ship or Wil back to Caelin proper. Several months would go by, and then they’d meet up again for the same old binge and chat routine.

Not seeing each other for such long periods of time, they completely missed seeing how their little get-togethers were affecting them until they met up again.

Wil had gotten into Badon first this time around, and as he sat back with his drink in hand, he couldn’t help staring when Dart finally swaggered in. And while it was a bit of a swagger, as he got a better look at the seaman, Wil thought it was more of a waddle -- and with the extra weight his friend seemed to be sporting, that wasn’t really a surprise. It wasn’t a huge amount by any means, but it was noticeable enough. It was most obvious in his middle -- which jutted out in a taught, round beer belly -- as well as around his thighs and ass; pert bubble butt bouncing with each step and his thick thighs fighting for space. The weight didn’t take away from how strong a man he was, though; Dart still looked like someone who could easily toss you over the side of a boat one-handed, but now he had added mass to make the threat look even more believable.

“Wow, you’re looking healthy!” the archer chuckled, not even meaning it as a possible insult. The other man did just look healthy to him! Being out to sea for stretches of time with only a small variety of food and a strict, physical schedule to keep was grueling. So, it was good to see Dart looking like he was living off of more than just salted meats and dry bread.

Dart grinned, flexing and showing off his powerfully muscled arms, honed by years living on the tumultuous sea. “Ha, I know! The crew’s been talkin’ about how much I’ve been bulking up recently! Can’t complain about having more muscle to help move things along when we’re out at sea.”

And this cheerful greeting quickly segwayed into their usual back and forth. Wil gave wandering, somewhat air-headed stories about the mostly peaceful life in Caelin -- how Kent seemed hellbent on teaching him knightly decorum if he was to remain a part of their forces. And Dart told awe-inspiring tales of sea travel -- embellishment highly likely taken with some, but greatly bought into for the fun of listening. And, all the while they talked and joked, they ate and drank and called back for more until they were both fit to burst. 

It was amazing to watch the pirate pack it away, and if Wil was more observant, he likely would have noticed how much more his friend could consume. How much more he also tried to eat in order to keep up, and to keep the night going on longer. Belts were unbuckled, all ceremony lost between old friends and plenty of good booze, and chairs pushed back on their squeaking legs in order to make room for over-packed bellies.

They hiccuped their way through some silly tunes, until they could take no more food or drink and could hardly keep their eyes open. The stairs creaked louder than times before as they lethargically climbed up to their usual room, Dart letting out a boisterous laugh when Wil went to lay back on his mattress, but misjudged the distance and ended up bumping his foot against a leg of the bed and tumbling backwards with enough force to send his stuffed gut swaying as he groaned.

“Ugh, didn’t-- didn’t know I needed sea legs here on land,” Wil burped out somewhat queasily, cradling his abused middle with both hands in an effort to calm it down.

“Ah, you’ll get used to it! Just gotta get you back into the swing of things!” Dart laughed, patting his bloated gut with a sense of pride, “Life in a castle has made you a li’l soft there, pal, you’ve forgotten how to have fun with yer best mate!”

Of course, being so stuffed full and pleasantly drunk as he had been at the time, Wil laughed along in total agreement, and that week in Badon was one of the wildest they’d had to date. But, later on, when all the food and drinking, late nights and even later mornings started to catch up with Wil, he had to wonder if it was really the castle life that was making him soft.

A year later saw them still maintaining this ritual of meeting up, and while not much had changed in their lives, their size certainly had.

Dart was ever the larger of the two, his physical life aboard Fargus’ ship helping to balance out whatever fat he put on with well-honed muscle. He had a presence that made him feel larger than life, and it was hard not to think he was when you saw this massive sea-faring lad shifting cargo on and off the ship with ease. While he had a gut that spoke of indulgence at the table, there was hard muscle to back up the ball of chub that hung there proudly. His arms were still thick with muscle, and though his legs were just as strong, it was obvious that they had a healthy padding of pudge to them; giving him a slightly pear-shaped but mostly boxy appearance to his frame.

Wil, on the other hand, didn’t do nearly the same amount of physical activity on a daily basis as Dart. Sure, being in charge of Caelin’s archery division meant that he had to run routines and training sessions with all the rest, but it wasn't constant, nor was it as demanding. So, when the weight finally started to sneak on to the brunette, it was more obvious on him. He was plush all over, with a doughy stomach than rested in his lap -- a top roll starting to develop and divide his middle into two, clear rolls of flesh -- round, budding moobs sitting nicely atop his belly when full. His ass wasn’t nearly as large as Dart’s, but it was pleasantly soft all the same, leading down to plump thighs that quivered when he walked. His face was cherubic, and though through his continued practice of archery, Wil’s arms had maintained most of their definition, there was some pudge starting to creep onto his upper arms as well by the time the two of them got together again to swap stories and indulge in whatever Badon’s port town had to offer them.