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inlustrissss · 3 years

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Last Time

“The woman was scared to die all alone in a foreign country”

SPOILER WARNING!! CHAPTER 138

Edit: Thank you for 200 notes 😊😚

Levi x fem!Reader

TW! : slight angst but also mentioning of death, dw, got some nice and bittersweet moments as well

Summary: Levi and his fiancé are part of the survey corps and on a dangerous mission to stop Eren Jaeger in his plan with the rumble. On Marleyan ground, right before everything crumbles down, (Y/N) sees her life flash before her eyes

As Falco had caught on to the Kirschtein man, Connie looked devastated, the scene before the strong soldiers of Paradis unfolding into a complete disaster as Armin was about to detonate the bomb right around where Erens nape connected to it's bone-ish body.

"We need to get out quick!! Armin's gonna blow those bones to pieces!"

Having held down on to Piecks cart Titan body, (Y/N) loosened her grapple-hook, the gravity pulling her towards the ground as the hook returned to it's place at the ODM-Gear. At the same time the black haired woman Pieck emerged out of the Titan form, letting herself fall and hugging the (H/C) haired woman tightly.

Facing the ground, Falcos wings caught the women: "The armored Titan should be able to withstand the colossus Titan explosion—", seeing Jeans concern of their fellow old comrade, she tried to ease his worries as she sweated, "And most of all: Reiner's prepared for all of the consequences. To let this opportunity get away would be to let that go to waste!"

As suddenly Falcos Titan body increased its speed and flew up higher into the sky, (Y/N)s reflexes kicked in, making her close her eyes in fear. She felt an arm hug her waist tightly. Caught off guard, her (E/C) orbs opened frantically and her head swinging into the direction of the arms owner: it was her fiancé, the very man who had asked for her to marry him right in the middle of the war. Gifting the strongest soldier of humanity a subtle smile as a thank you, and maybe even slight reassurance for herself, she seemed to melt at his touch, getting lost in the rare colour of his cool blue eyes. Sighing, his tense shoulders relaxed for a second: "You okay?" His deep voice almost hoarse as it came out as a whisper, "Don't do anything reckless, stupid." Nodding speechlessly the woman noticed the bright light from behind her-- the bomb had been detonated and a loud, ear piercing bang sounded throughout the trampled battlefield of Marley.

Wide eyes glancing towards the direction of Eren whereabouts, hands covering ears, the ring on (Y/N)s finger sparkled whenever the warm rays of sunlight reached the beautiful material.

Was the battle finally over?

There was no time to think of the answer to that question, there wasn’t even any time to think of the question in the first place. It was a bittersweet moment, when Falco finally landed on the ground in front of those Marleyans and Eldians who had survived the ramble up until now. Leaving his titan body Falcos eyes searched the crowd for his parents. The little yet brave girl Gabi doing the same, running up to her mother and aunt, hugging them tightly just as Pieck did with her parents. Carefully jumping off of the bird like titan body, (Y/N) and Connie took a hold of Levis weakened body, making sure he stood on his feet before Connie adjusting his arm and placed it around his neck. The engaged woman never leaving her financés side, she held him by his torso, looking at the children that had been with them for a long time throughout the war, finally reuniting with their parents. The sight of Gabi smiling made her forget all of her worries. With Levi close to herself, nothing could beat them now.

“It’s not like I don’t have any regrets but-”, Connie looking around, seeing all the crying faces, “we did the right thing, didn’t we?” “We stopped the rumbling..”

“Wait!”, Gabi suddenly called out, running towards the cliff, almost falling off of it if it weren’t for (Y/N)s reflexes to catch the impulsive girl, “Watch it Gabi!”, the woman said with concern lacing her sweet voice, “But Reiner is still fighting.. and Armin?!”, looking back to the battlefield, they saw Reiner on the ground with Armin walking over to the cliff where everyone had been.

“They’re okay.”, said Jean as he patted Gabis should, but something had caught their attention.

It was the centipede- like looking creature, which had taken control over Eren when he had transformed into the founding titan: “Hey, look over there!!”, yelled Connie while pointing at the thing, “It survived the explosion?” “What the fuck is that thing..”, mumbled Levi with a disgusted look, “Who knows, love.”, said (Y/N), “But all I know is that we can’t let this thing survive.”, with a determined look she glanced to her comrades, tightening her grip on to Levi. A bright light emitted behind the colossal titan, the place where Erens corpse had been. “I didn’t think it’d take that much to kill you..”, said Jean as he was looking towards the bright light, seeing a titan form in the distance.

Long brown hair dancing with the wind, it was Eren.

“We can’t let Eren get to that thing down there!”, yelled (Y/N). Right when she was about to turn towards Levi and possibly get him ready for another fight, she noticed him groaning and his head hanging low, “Levi? What’s wrong?!”, brows furrowing, she tried to take a hold of his eyes with hers. “Just a headache.”, he whispered.

A headache- come to think of it, Mikasa had been having headaches throughout the fight with Eren too..

Noticing how Gabi had crouched down with the others, (Y/N) decided to let her finacés headache slide and see what was going on. “What is this smoke?”, asked Gabi, “Smoke?”, inspecting further, (Y/N) saw how the creature had deflated, leaving only smoke behind, which soon covered a large space and devoured almost all of the mountain where they had been seeking their cover. “Is that thing finally dying?”, Mikasa groaned as he raised his brow suspiciously at the thing. But Connie had another answer: “No, it doesn’t smell like a dead titan”, his hand covering mouth and nose at the smell. His heart dropping and hands growing colder with each second, he was under shock: “Isn’t it the same they did in...”, he swallowed, “..In Ragako?”

Only hearing the confused voices speaking in the background, it was completely silent among the group. No one dared to mutter another word, it had all come to an end.

She wanted to cry but she couldn’t, her heart stopped to fear it only started to clench in worry, “Levi you have to get out of here”

It only rung louder and stronger, it was like his head was killing him slowly, praising him with a painful dead, it was like his instinct was punishing him for his failure. No it can’t be instinct, he truly did love her, he was no servant. Yet his DNA was telling otherwise.

“No don’t do this to me-”, the Ackerman males murmurs were cut off by his beloved soon to be wife, “Pieck, Mikasa! Get on Falco and hurry!”

“Please oh god don’t do this to me-”

“Levi, it’s okay.”, softly touching his cheek, being careful not to hurt his injury under the dirty and sweat stained bandages, she held his paled face. This very face she saw all those years ago, when he was captured by commander Erwin with his fellow friends Isabel and Farlan, oh how she has missed them all. Recalling their first interaction when Hanji ran off to greet them at their first expedition, praising them on their skill with the ODM gear.

She glanced at his eyes. Those eyes she first truly started to take in the night he was at his worst, crying under the moonlit night, cursing himself how he could’ve been stronger. Those seemingly cold eyes that would always watch over squadleader (L/N)s doings. Those very eyes that would always gaze at her with love and tender were struck with fear and disbelief now. She knew he was too weak, she was scared he wouldn’t be able to handle another death.

Levis nose stung, his eyes burning, this is it, he was close to crying. But as he heard her sweet voice, it was as if there was no war raging, “It’s okay my love”, she said with an almost inaudible whisper, forcing herself to not break down and cry herself. “You need to get out of here Levi”, her voice calming his penetrating headache, “You need to survive” Foreheads pressed together, (Y/N) swiftly let go off of his face to look at her right hand, “Here quick, take the ring honey-”, sliding off the engagement ring, she took Levis weak hand and pressed the warm yellow gold into his palm, she smiled softly, not noticing a single tear slip, “I’ll see you again Levi”

Pressing her warm lips tightly against his cold ones, she took a hold of his shoulders and hugged him.

He hesitated, needing to take in what just happened but hugged her back just as tight, patting down her messy hair, just like hed always do to keep his beloved tidy. As they slowly parted she whispered “You need to hurry.”

Their moment seemed as if took hours.

Seeing Falco take off with the one she devoted herself to, (Y/N) finally broke down. Her life flashing by her eyes and even all the talks she had with Levi about her future, she played it all out just how it could’ve been.

Remembering how he had asked her to be his wife in the middle of war, because he was scared he wouldn’t survive, thinking of all the reassurence they both gave themselves until now. Dreaming of a future together, knowing it would stay one.

She cried.

Hot tears streaming down her flushed cheecks, she wasn’t even able to keep up with the flow of her tears anymore, (Y/N) just gave up on trying to dry them. The woman was scared to die all alone in a foreign country.

“So this is how it ends, huh?”, (Y/N) stopped.

It was Jean who was pulling her close towards himself, Connie on his other side, hugging the taller male as well. “Guess so..”, said Connie. Turning towards Jean with an indifferent expression he scoffed, “Remember the night of the entrance ceremony?”, Jean nodded, “This is your fault we’re here right now.”

At their bickering right before the end made, (Y/N) had to laugh, “Stop it you guys, now’s not the time” Connie groaned, “Come on, when’s ever the time..”, but Jean apologized, “I’m sorry Squadleader”

Growing only sadder at the title, (Y/N) sighed: “Drop the act Jean, we’re only human after all.”

“Right.. (Y/N)”

She wished she could look into Levis warm eyes again.

She longed to see, she would do everything,

just to see him one last time

Closing her eyes, she let the sunrays hit her skin, making her look angelic with the golden glow. Will it hurt? Will it be quick? Her mind growing ever so slight when the worries ceased, she didn’t want those things to be the last thing, worry should not consume ones life.

So when the time finally came, she only thought of Levi Achermann, the man she had loved the most in her life.

Seeing his beautiful steel gray eyes in her mind set her at ease. So she rememniced his lovely touch for one last time.

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rirururu · 5 years

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I want to tackle a more serious multi-chapter TanZen / ZenTan fanfic some time soon. I miss being able to actually develop them through a continuum of events and tying all the plot points together at the end. It’s not that I’m out of steam but I think people are losing interest in this project too ((´д｀)) I might have to either cancel or put the prompt challenge on hold. Let's see what happens. What do you guys think?

Click here for ao3 version or go to “Keep Reading.”

It’s only been eight hours and fourty-nine minutes since Tanjirou Kamado and Zenitsu Agatsuma officially became a couple.

And Zenitsu is already sure that he can’t take much more of this.

Waking up with the chirping birds like he always did, Zenitsu crawled out of his futon in the direction away from his snoring boar friend and made to fold it against the wall. Noticing the spot on the other side of him empty, the only conclusion was that Tanjirou must’ve started his day even sooner.

Looking for his (boy)friend- oh my god, that’s what he was now, wasn’t it- Zenitsu padded out of the room with yawn. He found his target leaning over a bowl in intense concentration. The thrumming drums of nervousness radiated from him in waves. The only thing that snapped him out of it was the sound of the sliding door gently slamming shut.

The effect was immediate. Tanjirou turned, face brightening like the sun. A warm blush colours his tan cheeks pink. Nerves almost completely disappeared. “Zenitsu, g-good morning!”

The blond covered his eyes with a sleeve. His heart was already racing at the sight. “Ugh, too bright… You’re too bright at this time of day, Tanjirou!”

The sun breather only laughed. And for the life of him, Zenitsu couldn’t understand why he looked so delighted to get such a snippy response. He didn’t have time to dwell on it though, not when the other suddenly stood up from his seat. Zenitsu didn’t have the mental power to react. Rounding towards him, Tanjirou wastes no time landing a kiss with the sound of spring on the blond’s cheek. “I made breakfast for you.”

Zenitsu flushes red. His skin buzzes like a bee covered in pollen where gentle lips touched. “Y-You…!” The lack of shame from the other seriously annoyed him! Zenitsu declares but he’s dragged to the table, swaying left and right as a decidedly warm happiness bursts near his chest. He may have giggled, swooned a bit and he’s sure if he were a painting, there’d be hearts emitting from his ears. But he doesn’t care.

Especially not when he finally sees what the fuss was about. Sitting innocently on top of the simple rice dish is an egg, sunny-side up and in the shape of a heart.

A heart…!

“Tanjirou, what’s going on?! My organs feel like they’re going to explode out of my mouth. Is this a disease? Is it fatal? Th-THAT’S IT! I’m dying! You’ve killed me…!”

“Don’t die, Zenitsu!” Despite the dire situation, Tanjirou is smiling. That bastard…! But ah, he can hear now that the ocean of nerves in his spine was subsiding as a calm peace replaced it. Maybe, perhaps, there was that very small chance that Tanjirou actually really cared what Zenitsu thought of his work?

The sentiment burns his eyes wet. He wheezes.

“IT’S TOO LATE.” Zenitsu clutches his stomach dramatically. “I thought I’d leave this world after having my brain giblets guzzled out and my limbs sliced to bits. I thought it’d be less depressing than this. BUT MY true end is THIS-! You’ve killed me with second-hand embarrassment, you fool!”

“That’s a weird way of saying love.”

“ARGH…!” Zenitsu covers his red face with his palms. It’s too much. Tanjirou was so impossible! His heartbeat runs a marathon in his ears, blood rushing, yet the kind sound of a flute and a crystal stream still embracing him is as clear as ever. Suddenly, he feels the light brush of fingers in his hair, and that stream reflects a rainbow.

Tanjirou hummed. His eyes never leave his boyfriend, taking in the tinge of teary golden orbs peeking from between shaking fingers. Yellow locks are still tussled wayward from sleep. It fluffs adorably between his own rough fingers. The cherry blossoms colouring his face contrast nicely, bringing out the image before him nearly as much as the scent of home. His mouth runs away from him, powered purely by his desire to have Zenitsu all to himself. “You’re so cute. I love you.”

Silence.

Finally realizing the weight of the statement, Tanjirou withdrew himself with a horrified squeak and red cheeks.

“Really? That’s what makes you realize how EMBARASSING you’re being?!” He whines. “TAN-JI-ROU…!”

That’s when Zenitsu officially decided that he couldn’t take anymore of this. Tanjirou was too much for him.

But maybe that was just fine.

(he loves him too)

-U-U-U-U-U-

It’s only been two weeks, five days, seventeen hours, and eleven minutes since Tanjirou Kamado and Zenitsu Agatsuma officially became a couple.

And Tanjirou is already sure that he can’t take much more of this.

He just returned to headquarters, haori tattered and blade vibrating with intense aftereffect. Some part of his brain still thinks he’s in battle. Bloodied, surrounded by the corpses of innocent children all under the age of twelve, his mission did not end well. No matter how long he works as a demon slayer, no matter what he sees, he can never stomach the sick feeling of being the only one to come out of it alive.

He was too late.

“Tanjirou.”

He stops merely two meters from the entrance. On the stone steps stood Zenitsu, out of breath as if he ran there at the sound of him. If the next sentence out of this beautiful person that Tanjirou loved so much was any indication, he had. “You’re sad.”

Tanjirou can tell immediately from the frustrated scent of the other that Zenitsu was likely reprimanding himself for the insensitive statement. Of course he’s sad, he imagined the blond internally screaming. He couldn’t begin to imagine the amount of despair in his being but if it was anything like the scent of rotting flesh and crushed dreams, Tanjirou knew he must’ve sounded bad.

So he tries to smile anyway to reassure. “Yeah. It’s okay though-”

“It’s not okay. Don’t say that.” Zenitsu frowns. He holds out a worried hand, the own bandage wrapped around his yellow head seeming like a paper cut in comparison to the wound in his boyfriend’s spirit. The other doesn’t hesitate to take it. It’s fascinating to Tanjirou just how affected Zenitsu was by the tone in his voice. “There’s no way you’re okay.”

Despite the context, Tanjirou finds himself blurting out. “What do I sound like?”

Zenitsu takes pause at this. Their fingers intertwined, the blond squeezes them with a wistful smile. “Like red poppies.”

“That’s-” Tanjirou gasps out. It’s such a strange phenomenon. It’s almost as if the admission itself was enough to break the dam. The anguished memories, that he tried so hard to shove down, return. “That’s beautiful, Zenitsu.”

“Oi, don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Stop holding back. Cry, scream, whatever… it’s okay to be sad.”

“I can’t. I- I’m sorry.” Tanjirou didn’t know how. Ever since the first time it happened, ever since he first walked in to a house full of dead bodies, he’s found it so difficult to truly be angry or depressed about it. There was no time. He had to save Nezuko. He had to help all the suffering humans and demons. The world didn’t have time for Tanjirou to be sad.

“Hey,” Zenitsu snaps his fingers in front of him with his free hand. When hazy amber eyes follow the motion in surprise, he sighs. “Follow me.”

Tanjirou isn’t sure what to expect when he hears that. His wounds were already treated and healing. His sword wasn’t broken. His report was already sent ahead of time on the Kasuga crow. There wasn’t much else left to do but answer to any lingering questions from the higher-ups and maybe rest. About the last thing he could anticipate is Zenitsu ripping out a wooden instrument from beneath a cloth. Its head was long, its body delicate yet the blond held it with a confidence that Tanjirou knew he had when handling a blade.

It’s mesmerizing. Since when did Zenitsu know how to play an instrument? So when the boy motions him to sit on the grass, his own seat on the platform overlooking the garden occupied, Tanjirou obeys without protest. He waits, attention dispersed somewhere between how peaceful his boyfriend looked and the practiced gracefulness of pale fingers on the string.

Sure enough, the first note that rings almost has Tanjirou weeping.

It’s sad. It’s such a sad song. Children rapt with confusion over why their parents were unmoving, hands reaching out in silent plea for help before the life fades from lively eyes, the crushing sense of helplessness when he digs them out from beneath furniture. Rushing them into the outside, they’re gone before he even has a chance to lay them on the grass. The demon was dead but at what cost?

It was then that Tanjirou realized that Zenitsu succeeded. He was sad. The music guided him here and now it was hard to breathe. There was a crushing weight of something horribly foul on his heart. It was awful. Why did anyone want to stay like this all the time?

Before Tanjirou can bury himself in the utter gloom that the melody brought him, the tune lightens. It was quiet, chilling before, but now it strengthens in volume and nearly consumes the entire yard. The notes stumble in rhythm as if tripping but getting back up over and over. And maybe, just maybe, the pungent mass in his chest lessens.

When it’s over, Zenitsu finally opens his eyes. He looks down at Tanjirou but the other teen is frozen almost still. Amber eyes stared at him in awe. It was like Zenitsu held all the stars within his fingertips and Tanjirou just couldn’t help wanting more. He notices the blond flushing, not sure how to read his look. “Y-You asked me what you sounded like right now. That was it.”

“Can-” Zenitsu flinches when he hears just how choked Tanjirou’s voice sounds. “Can I have a hug?”

Even with all of the embarrassment in the world to stop him, Zenitsu wouldn’t deny him. Tanjirou knew that. The nod only confirms it. He’s on him in mere moments, practically pouncing on the yellow-clad body as he buried his face in the older boy’s shoulder. Then with all barriers down, Tanjirou cries.

The only thing that anchors him is the sweet scent of citrus and the hand holding his own.

That’s when Tanjirou officially decided that he couldn’t take anymore of this. Zenitsu was too much.

And he loves him so, so much for that.

#kimetsu no yaiba #kny #agatsuma zenitsu #kamado tanjirou #zentan #tanzen #otp prompts #don't make fun of me ;-;#and my obscure ships #my stuff #fanfic

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fuapocalypse · 5 years

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Chapter 1

The cabin was large, least to be said, and made entirely out of the finest spruce wood. It’s secluded location made it perfect for a group of young adults to find some peace. The windows were fine and clean with a slight glint upon them originating from the dazed glance of the disappearing sun. For miles and miles nothing to be seen except nature. The perfect tranquil dream.

Diagonal of the idyllic structure, stood a wooden gazebo near to a deep pool of water, golden by the beating suns rays. The water was deep, deep enough in some areas to drown even the tallest of people. The pool lay, surrounded by a tile deck of blues and greens and a colour that is both yet not quite either.

The silence was so loud that it was deafening. The cry of a bird was lost to the endless expanse for no one was near enough to catch the sound nor to reciprocate. The sky was clear, pale blue and with only two lines of white panning across its expanse in the wake of airplanes travelling to nations unbeknownst to most.

A doe stood still in the forest, grazing upon the long grass, relishing its cool moisture. A branch snapped and the animal was gone, instincts having overrun the need for nourishment. A car, a jeep to be exact, drove slowly through the forest, parking upon an eroded square beside the cabin.

The silence was broken.

“How the hell did you manage to rent this place anyway?” A voice emitted from the vehicle, a low yet feminine voice with a light rasp and a strong English accent. A girl, with whom the voice had originated, stepped out and into the relentless sun. Sun-kissed skin glowing.

“My mom paid for it, Grace. She knows people.” Another voice replied, a higher voice, a voice with such elegance that such a voice cannot be imagined to do such other a thing than sing in the grandest of theatres, replied. It belonged to Gen, a young girl with chocolate brown hair and eyes of such a dark blue that they may have been made of gemstones.

“That makes her sound so fucking creepy. Like a mob boss or something.” A girl sporting a black beanie and short blonde hair jumped out from her place in the car, stretching as she did so. Her eyes were sea green but not the kind of shade that's easy to describe. It was almost like they were both green and blue at the same time, with turquoise creeping in around the edges as if it were trying to take over.

“Yeah. Yeah. Shut up Kay!” Michaela, known as ‘Kay’, chucked and let the others out of the back of the car and took her place standing by Grace at the rear of the car. Grace was shorter than Kay, if only by an inch, yet contrasted to her in almost every way. Grace had chocolate brown eyes, tanned sun glazed skin and long deep brown hair while Kay’s skin was pale and her hair had always been light.

Two young men stepped out of the van, one the polar opposite of the other. KC, the older man, was short and portly with scruffy brown hair and eyes so dark they may as well have been a solar eclipse. Cullen, however, was tall and muscular, with eyes that were mossy green orbs with rings of cedar brown - they twinkled with a sharp gleam like that of a tiger staking its prey. His gaze was both of a wise professor and a bloodthirsty murderer: it called for respect and promised severe consequences for denying him.

Following closely behind were three young girls, one significantly shorter than the other two. The tallest of the three, Amber Kort, had long almost white hair pulled back into a ponytail with wisps falling down and framing her face. Her eyes were blue, however, to say that her eyes were blue would be to say that the sun was yellow. Sufficient but not enough to capture the blazing heat. They were hot, cold and warm all at once.

Beside her stood her half-sister, shortest of all the group, Scarlett Max, eyes influenced by the bright day, eliciting the opinion that they were almost purple in that light. Her hair mirrored that of her sister, with barely four months between them, the two were as similar in looks as they were in maturity.

The last of the young girls walked with a majesty one would only expect from a Queen and yet had the grace of a bull in a china shop. She stood just above Scarlett and below Gen in height and yet shorter than all the others who had little to no difference between one another. Her hair was dyed a velvet red that accented her cognac brown eyes, covered mostly by heavily pounded makeup.

“This place is fucking huge!” Kay exclaimed upon her first glance within the cabin, the door lay open behind the group as it allowed the old air to escape and breathed new air in, walls creaking as they contracted like lungs to welcome the fresh summer breeze.

“You don’t even understand how amazed I am at all of this.” Amber grinned at the sight before her, a twenty inch flat screen tv. She carefully ran a finger across the top of the device, dusty, as she’d expected.

“I think we’ve all established that this place is cool.” Grace stated, matter-of-factly as she lugged her suitcase into the cabin.

“You think there’s food here?” The group turned around to see that KC had barely scratched the surface of the steps leading to the cabin. With a chuckle, they all rolled their eyes in unison at KC’s obviously greediness.

“Who’s sleeping where? There are three rooms, I call dibs on top floor, I’ve seen the view from up there.” Gen laughed to herself as she began dragging her large duffel bag up the stairs to the third floor. Gen spoke with a thick American accent, a more familiar tongue in the state of Mississippi.

“Sure. We all decided on the way down anyway. Gen, Scarlett and Kay will be together. Cullen and KC. Me, Grace and Lindsay.” Amber said, holding the plans they had prepared for that very situation. Amber was always prepared, not much could deter her.

“Last one in the pool has to cook tonight!” Gen rolled her eyes at her friends’ playfulness as she watched them all bolt up the stairs, almost throwing her to the ground in the process. She was short, almost as short as Lindsay but yet still had at least two inches above her, that did not mean that she survived well amongst taller people. In that department, she was a little lacking.

“Aren’t you going swimming, Cullen?” The two men stood in their room, one sprawled upon a single bed whilst the other fought to pull swimming trunks passed his thighs.

“Nah. Swimming’s not really my thing. I’ll catch up with you guys later.” Cullen stated firmly, in a low and rough Irish accent, he’d prefer to stay indoors anyway. It wasn’t that he didn’t like his friends but more that he preferred being alone to swimming in a pool full of them. Especially KC, who wasn’t even his friend anyway. He didn’t know anyone here really, anyone accept Kay.

“C’mon! Everyone else is!” Cullen could tell at that very moment that he would not be putting up a very good fight against KC anytime soon. The boy was annoying, maddening, and held a feeling about him, a feeling that was telling Cullen to break his nose and walk the hell away. Yet he did no such thing.

Cullen replied simply by raising his middle finger in the other man’s direction. KC huffed grumpily, like he was going to go out there with a ton of girls alone in his swimming trunks, friends or not he was sure they’d make fun of him. Tease him about his weight and surprisingly small ‘foot size’.

“Fine. Then I won’t go neither.” KC slumped upon his bed in anger, causing the furniture to creak and sink slightly under his weight, fighting to stay in one piece.

“I don’t give a shit what you do.” Cullen demonstrated no favour toward KC, he seemed off. Something about him made Cullen feel sick and it wasn’t down to his lack of hygiene, wasn’t entirely down to his lack of hygiene.

KC stormed out of the room in anger and began on his way toward the pool, the ground shaking under his accessive weight, body wobbling unceremoniously synchronised to the shaking on the ground underfoot.

“So Kay, why exactly did you bring us all out here?” Kay sighed in defeat, she’d spent hours on the train and then the plane contemplating the answers to give. Whether to remain silent, subtle or lie by the skin of her teeth. It seemed impossible. Should she tell them the truth, they may react badly. Subtlety has always been a specialty. Lying seems like the least attractive offer.

She heaved a deep breath and left it escape unceremoniously from her pale lips.

“We just needed to get away and I really missed Gen, it’s been a while since I last saw her. Over a year.” Grace smiled softly in thanks at Kay. Kay’s lips opened as she attempted to gasp out in warning. But she was too late.

Behind Gen stood a large man wearing only black. His eyes were dark and held a hollowness about them, almost as though they were not his own but that of an animal.

Above him he held a large object, merely a shadow before the bright sun. Water poured from the object and doused Gen, laugher erupted from behind her as KC gripped his knees in a desperate attempt to remain steady upon his feet.

“Fight me.” Gen growled out, furrowing her brow and gritting her teeth in anger. Only did her resolve break when KC started to tremble. Gen could not contain the laugher rumbling through her body at the sight of this large man, terrified of her, short as she was.

“Give the guy a break Gen. Look at him. He’s about to piss himself.” Grace tried to sympathise but no one could physically contain the laugher at the sight of KC.

“Yeah, give me a break. I’m the only guy here, if you ignore the Suicidal Prick upstairs.” Silence washed over them like a wildfire as Kay took a few practiced steps toward him.

“Don’t you fucking dare call him that! Just because he likes to be alone doesn’t mean that he’s fucking depressed!” And with that, everyone sat still, not a movement between any of them, barely the gentle sound of breathing. Kay stormed away, cussing as she made her exit toward the building.

“KC, That wasn’t very nice. Kay just wanted to bring us all together. Cullen doesn’t know anyone here.” Gen chipped in, she’d seen Kay mad before, more so than this, and therefore it held a weaker impact on her. However, that didn’t mean that KC wasn’t completely out of place in what he said.

“It wasn’t like I said anything bad. It was a joke. Jeez.” KC had never seen so many people look upon him with distain as his friends and acquaintances were now.

“Fine. Fuck you all.” KC grumbled bitterly as he headed toward the woods. They were thick and dense, ranging for miles upon miles before hitting the closest means of civilisation.

Gen and Scarlett sat outside placing sticks in a large pile surrounded by a circle of large rocks. Amber held a match, lit and held as far away from her person as physically possible. With a flick of her wrist, the match sprang onto the pile, setting the dry sticks alight.

Everyone stood still, alert eyes focussed on the flame as it tangoed, smoke filling the air, filling their lungs. Cullen glanced down upon the scene, eyes trained upon the flickering blaze, the cracking of the branches to be hearted from even such a distance as the one he was at.

“Hey Amber, why was KC invited? He’s a dick.” Amber replied simply with a non committed shrug as her eyes glued themselves to her phone, hand slowly creeping to her ear to place the earphone within it, attempting to play music without Grace noticing.

“I mean, he was nice before, you know but after we caught him lying about the whole ‘having cancer’ thing I guess he hasn’t been the same. Personally, I think he’s changed overall. He honestly reminds me of Levy.” Amber breathed out a laugh at the mention of Levy. She and Levy had barely been friends, a simple ‘I don’t like you’ made certain of that factor.

“Do you know anything about Gen or Cullen?” Grace shook her head in reply. She’d heard about Cullen from Kay but hadn’t really had the chance to meet him herself. He was ‘tough but soft really’ or so Kay would put it. His heart had the texture of a crab, solid until broken into. Few had tried, even less had succeeded and the one who did, left her mark.

“Gen’s nice. She knew Kay before she moved to Cornwall. Before us, so they’re like really close, I guess.” Neither appeared to have any interest in the conversation, having been worn out by a long day travelling and tackling the act of swimming. “She seems very-“ Amber was cut off by a loud voice, flooding with electricity.

“Who wants to sing?” A chorus of agreement flowed through the secluded area and Amber grabbed her ukulele in excitement, leaving Billie Eilish to sing ‘six feet under’ to herself, as her voice was lost to the joyous cries claiming to who should go first.

“Maybe we should all sing something together first?” Scarlett suggested in a hopeful attempt to resolve the problem and to her relief it was followed by an echo of submission from her friends.

“I know exactly what to sing!” Exclaimed Grace happily. It was a tough task, finding a song that all parties enjoyed, all with the exception of KC who had not yet returned without a trace.

Grace leaned over to Amber, the group began to take their places on the seats surrounding the fire in an off-perfect circle, and whispered something inaudible to everyone present. A smile slowly spread across Amber’s features, and she began to strum.

Everyone, without a second to doubt or deny the thought, recognised the riff and began to sing the first line of the infamous song.

“If you’re evil and you’re on the rise, you can count on the four of us taking you down...” The song concluded with a wave of laughter that caught the group and spread like the common cold.

A huge thank you to @bisexual-mess-ready-for-death who was the biggest inspiration and contributer toward the creation. She kept me motivated and I hope to post more chapters in the near future. I hope you all enjoyed :)

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magic-and-moonlit-wings · 7 years

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Chapter 25: Date

The difficult thing about dating a friend was coming up with things to do.

Sunny wanted to do something special with Dawn; something different, now that they were dating, to distinguish their time together now from all the time they had spent together before. But other than holding hands more often, he had no ideas.

(Other than kissing her, but after Dawn had said she wanted to take their new relationship slowly, he'd decided it would be better to wait until she kissed him first, to be sure she was comfortable with it.)

As friends, they already danced and sang together, and hugged, and gave each other little presents and surprises, and wandered aimlessly through the kingdom to see where they might end up.

The last of these was what they were doing now, walking in Lizzie's shadow. It was late afternoon and there hadn't been many clouds or breezes that day, so the sun's heat had soaked into the ground. A bit of shade offered the perfect spring temperature. Larkspur and Thimble were 'chaperoning' again, but the sprites were discreet about it.

"So … how was work?" Dawn asked.

Sunny was a performer at heart, but so were many others in the kingdom. His main employment was running packages and messages as a courier.

"To be honest, I think people were avoiding me for messenger jobs today, so there was probably a lot of gossip about – you know. Current events. I did take a set of pans from the smithy to the bakery and then some raisin buns back."

There had been a similar dry spell of messages after Marianne called off her wedding last year. Sunny's friendship with the princesses meant he was rarely asked to carry politically-charged messages, probably because the other elves and brownies were concerned he would forward it all to the royal family.

On the subject of dry spells …

"Tammy," one of the bakers, "was saying the herb patches haven't been getting as much rain as they need. She thinks we need another well. I said, 'isn't it a bit early in the season to be sure?', and she said, 'by the time we are sure, everything'll be dried up'."

"It is odd," Dawn agreed, batting the tip of some drooping grass out of her face. "Usually we've had at least one serious shower by now. Maybe a thunderstorm is building."

"I hope not." Sunny shivered. There had been an enormous thunderstorm near the end of last summer. Several villages were flooded. No one had died, but it took weeks to clear the mud and make repairs – valuable time taken from preparing for the harvest. "My parents are talking about having a new roof put on instead of patching the old one again. They were going to wait for summertime, but if it stays dry, they might do it sooner."

"I'll keep an ear out for pressure changes." The length and curl of a fairy's ear was sensitive to wind currents and air pressure, so they were often the first to know what weather was coming. A few older elves and brownies claimed similar sensitivity in their bones or joints. "Your Grammy used to predict rain with her knee, didn't she?"

"Yeah … I think it was dampness that set her off, though, since sometimes it just got really humid."

Sunny blinked when it suddenly grew brighter. He and Dawn lifted their hands to shade their eyes and looked at each other … and then to Lizzie, who had stopped walking and whom they had walked past without realizing.

"Something the matter, Lizzie?" Dawn put a comforting hand on the giant reptile's shoulder, letting the sun light up her face once more. Sunny took a moment to admire her glow before peering ahead.

A short ways ahead of them, only about twice Lizzie's length from snout to tail-tip, was a forsythia bush, densely flowered with its distinctive yellow four-pointed stars. Under and between the blooms were odd, faint flickers of pale blue light.

"… Plum?" he said softly.

"That's … right, that's where her workshop was … before."

It had been abandoned when Sugar Plum was imprisoned, except for young fays who would dare each other to come here, to take a yellow flower or step inside the building.

Dawn twitched her wings.

"Looks like she moved back in. Let's go say hi."

Her tone and expression was not nearly as cheery as it usually was when she said things like that. Sunny gulped.

Thimble and Larkspur lifted some of the low-hanging branches so Dawn wouldn't have to duck. Sunny wouldn't have needed to, himself, but they held the branches for him as well. Dawn squared her shoulders.

Lizzie actually skittered back from the bush a few steps. He could see her tail lashing. She either couldn't or wouldn't follow them, and wasn't happy about it.

"We'll come back, Liz," he promised her quietly.

Sugar Plum's workshop was built of wood and radiated around the stem (trunk?) of the bush. It had a tall enough roof and doorway for fairies to enter. It was nearly circular, and had filled the space under the forsythia before Plum had been imprisoned and the bush had been left to grow wild.

It was in better shape than Sunny would have expected, for sitting empty so long, but perhaps Sugar Plum had moved back in a few days ago and started repairing it already, or had left some kind of preservation spell on the place.

The doorway didn't actually have a door in it, just a pair of curtains. It was surprisingly wide. The largest goblins Sunny had seen in the forest might have been able to step inside.

Dawn entered boldly, like the royal she was. Sunny ducked in beside her, ready to jump in front if the Sugar Plum Fairy was home and not inclined to entertain visitors.

"My first customers!" Plum trilled, tumbling in the air. "It's so good to be back! What can I do for –? Oh, it's you." Her blue, glittering shoulders slumped for a moment and she pouted at them.

Larkspur folded her arms and made an indignant noise.

Sugar Plum pasted her smile back on. "How kind of you to come and check in on me, after we shared that harrowing ordeal in the Dark Forest!"

Sunny could see almost the entire workshop from the door, except for a curtained off area he guessed might be Plum's private living space.

Between the randomly placed windows, the walls were lined with shelves, mostly full of dried plants and empty bottles, and a few haphazardly-placed boxes and books. A counter or table was built around the trunk in the middle of the room. On it were scissors and gardening tools, for harvesting ingredients, and cooking tools, for brewing potions, and a vase with some forsythia blooms in it.

"How are you settling in?" Dawn asked. One of her hands was clenched around her other wrist.

"Oh, it's a bit dusty, nothing unexpected, everything that didn't rot or dry up while I was away is right where I left it – but unfortunately, one of the dried up things is my customer base! It looks like I'm going to have to completely rebuild my client roster."

Plum pouted again, and made a sweeping gesture to a shelf where a few yellow-green bottles emitted the faintest glow.

"I've been working on garden fertilizers, always steady sellers; that's how I got my start. But nobody's come to shop even though I'm sure everyone knows I'm free by now, so I might have to go into market to remind them that I'm here. And maybe trim a gateway into the forsythia again, like I had before, but after that dreary dungeon with only my own glow for colour, I've really missed the rest of the spectrum, so I'm going to wait until the yellow flowers are done for the season."

Plum circled around them and put one hand on Sunny's shoulder and the other on Dawn's.

"And how are you two setting in to your new relationship? I thought I saw something between you!"

"We're taking it slow," said Sunny quickly.

Plum turned into Dawn and booped his nose. "Just because love is new doesn't mean it isn't real." She booped the real Dawn's nose in turn and changed back into herself. "Right, Princess?"

Dawn's smile definitely showed more teeth than usual. Her teeth barely parted when she spoke.

"Our relationship is progressing at the pace of our choosing. But there is a complication we ought to discuss with you."

Sunny looked at his feet. Did Dawn want to know Sugar Plum's perspective of what Sunny had said and done to convince Plum to make him the love potion he had tried to use on Dawn? It had actually been disturbingly easy … both for how quickly she acquiesced and for how pleased he'd been about it.

"The night we met you, a lizard got love-dusted and she's in love with both of us," said Dawn flatly. "The imp saved our lives by dusting her before she could eat us, but it's still not right to keep someone … emotionally stuck like that. Is there any other cure besides real love?"

"Sorry." Sugar Plum shrugged, not looking sorry at all. "The magic was set up to have just the one counterpoint, so it can't be undone by anything else. It's my most powerful working."

If you think making the potion's dangerous, wait till you use it! Believe you me, there can be unforeseen consequences. Oh, I'm so good! It scares me so!

"I see. Well, best of luck … rebuilding your client base. You should know before anyone else asks you to brew one that love potions have been banned in this kingdom as well as the Dark Forest."

"I suppose that's only to be expected," said Sugar Plum philosophically. "Don't you worry about me. The goblins probably destroyed all the primrose petals we'll get this spring, so I'll have a year to wean everyone off that idea."

"And the Royal Family is willing to fund research into finding an alternative antidote." Dawn winked. Her toothy grin became a cheeky one. "In case you want a new special project. I'm sure you'd outdo yourself."

"You flatter me, your highness. But I won't keep you. Go on, back to your date! Shoo-shoo!"

Dawn and Sunny let themselves be chivvied out the doorway.

"Toodles! Come back any time you want relationship advice!"

"So …" said Sunny, once Plum had gone back inside to wait for customers, "I … guess we've got Lizzie forever, then."

Dawn heaved a sigh. "Guess so."

Lizzie was excited to see them back. She nuzzled both of Sunny and Dawn, and used her massive head to herd them away from Plum's workshop.

"Do you think," Sunny asked Dawn quietly, "she understood about Plum being in there? And us wanting an antidote? And the potion's making her not want an antidote?"

"Animals of all sorts tend to avoid that place," Thimble volunteered. "I think Plum set a barrier spell that makes them nervous. That sort of thing isn't sustainable over a large area like a village or even a farm, but around a single building it can work."

"And Marianne said," said Dawn, "that when she was dusted, if there'd been an antidote, she would've taken it if Bog was the one to ask her, to 'prove' her love was real." She gasped. Her eyes went wide. "I am so stupid!"

"No, you're not!" said Sunny, shocked. "What could even make you think that?"

"We could have used Marianne's obsession with Bog to get her away from him! Then Dad would have called back the army and no one would have gotten hurt!"

"… You lost me. How would that have worked?"

"'Oh, Marianne, this is so great, we should go tell Dad you have a new boyfriend!'" Dawn stamped her foot. "But no, I had to try and reason with her and just got her mad."

Sunny patted Dawn's arm.

"You know," he said slowly, "It's okay if you're still mad. At your dad or your sister or the goblins or Sugar Plum, or, well, me. It was a pretty wild night and it's only been a few days."

Dawn didn't say anything but she did look a little less tense. They walked in silence for a full minute.

"I feel like I forgave you too quickly," she admitted. "I know you weren't doing it to hurt me and I trust you not to do it again – and if you do try something like that again, I won't forgive you – and I don't feel mad at you anymore, but I do feel … almost, mad at myself? Like, does it make me weak that I can forgive someone for trying to control me, and give you another chance?"

Sunny really wasn't the best person to answer that and figured Dawn knew that too, so he didn't answer.

"Trust can be misplaced," said Thimble, "but being able to trust isn't a sign of weakness, in and of itself."

"Mm."

"Do you, ah, want me to walk you home now?" Sunny asked.

"… Not yet. Let's go look at the daffodils."

Re-read the previous chapter.

Read the next chapter.

#Strange Magic #Taking the Feisty One chapters #Monday is fanfic day!#Potionless #Sunny #Dawn #Lizzie #lizard #Sugar Plum Fairy #strange magic fanfic #My Fanfiction

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to-h-blog1 · 7 years

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Magic and Banter:

Chapter 1:

It was dark when he woke up, but the stars! He doesn't suppose he saw so many in such a setting. They lit his surroundings like countless tiny lamps, emitting so much in so many colours it, creating a divine piece of ancient art out of the canvas of the sky. It was breath-taking, the night sky alone. He painfully staggered on his feet, feeling ashamed that he'd be such a mess in the presence of something so beautiful, albeit unintelligent. He didn't even entertain the possibility of NOT being a mess, he could smell it. He also found new strength, new hope in the moon towering his vision. He wondered, did he know this sky in another life? He had no memory of it; why else would he be stunned? Or was that a feature of bright darkness? He loved it. Serenity was something he needed to mend his currently fatigued resolve to survive. He stood still, examining his body and clothes. He wore a black shirt with tailored in white patters, but they were so faint they were hardly visible, and black shorts. He didn't particularly mind his fashion choices so he nodded and attempted to clean the nice but dirty piece of fabric. He noticed a white tag sued into his shirt, hiding two words on the side facing his body. It said "Dan Howell," and it sounded so familiar. He figured that could be his name, or the name of some mysterious owner of a stolen shirt, or maybe it's the name of the brand... no matter. He ignored the name for now, though it remained at the back of his mind.

Off to more important matters: Why was he left alone in a building as evil bearing as that of a tunnel for rats? He glanced behind him and saw a large menacing-looking building. It towered evilly over him as if it was one step away from eating him whole. Shifting his attention back to his position, he thought he must have taken a really cruel blow to the skill; it would explain the never ending throbbing at the back of his head and the cold dampness of his neck. He swiped his palms against the surface of his nape and saw that it was covered with blood. The bleeding stopped, which was a good sign. He hoped he does not faint again only to get devoured by a passing predator, or worse, a fellow human. Was he even human? Am I alive? Am I dreaming? Am I... real? I feel both dead and alive at the moment. Can spirits and ghosts feel pain and hunger? Who says they don't manifest a sort of connection with their bodies after death? How can one be sure of anything? He stopped himself, I will not go there. He knew he was going too far; it's better to focus on what's before him than what's inside his head, he decided.

He turned his head away from his beginning, and tiredly took in the rest of his surroundings. It was a quiet land, not many plants near him except for the borders of a faraway forest he could barely see; poking black spears against the sparkle of the heavenly bodies above. Far to his left, however, flamed a small camp surrounded by dark moving figures. Are they here to examine that accursed building? Were they the ones that left me in there? He considered as he crouched down the thankfully tall threads of grass. It was plausible that they were the ones that bashed him in the head and left him to rot in the dark. However, he needed answers, help and most importantly food. Oh food, his stomach grumbled, making his head slightly dizzy for a few moments. How he would kill for a bite of a juicy well-done piece of meat. It was appalling how he could remember details like facial hair and food spicing but could not remember something as fundamental as his own name. Says a lot about my priorities, ahem. Like he thought before, it's best not to think about it.

He weakly crawled towards the strangers. They were loud, too loud to be safe in a wide and hidden land as this one, he noted. Laughing shamelessly around the fire. They seemed confident enough to make noise in the middle of the dark frightening wilderness sp, maybe asking help from them was for the best. Either that or he may have been giving them too much credit. Why do I think too deeply about anything? It's my best option, no use in worrying about it. Maybe he was just tired. He hoped his hunger wasn't killing the last bit of wits he hopefully had beforehand.

There's a lot of 'hoping' in this business... this is uncomfortably inconvenient. He shook his head, instantly regretting it. Dia on a freaking boat... soz Dia. He mentally shrugged.

"Everybody, quiet!" Said a man from the group, cutting through his train of thought as he crawled closer unseen.

"Come on, Phil! We didn't mean that, we love your hair. We're just' havin' a good time. You should loosen up, aye lads?" Cracked what sounded like an old man and some other people. Phil, he repeated in his head.

"Shush!" Phil exclaimed, quieter still. His voice was clear of annoyance though; he did not sound particularly offended. "Something is getting closer."

Silence fell over the small company, and he heard light slow footsteps coming towards him. He also heard the distinct sound of metal unsheathing, he guessed a sort of sword was being used. Swords, I'll get to see a sword! He paused, oh... shit. This was not a good sign, he might think him a beast and kill him on the spot!

"Wait!" He said in a strangled voice. "I'm harmless, m-more so than a pink butterfly!"

There was a pause in the air, the footsteps stopped. The sword remained unsheathed.

"Then show yourself, pink butterfly!" Replied Phil dryly, and then continued. "You can't expect us to trust someone that lurks like a Coyote in the bushes while we're eating! Who are you?"

"Maybe I lurk," he said it in a dirty way. "Because I have reasons not to trust a loud armed bunch when I'm alone!" He responded, quite annoyed by his attitude. Not that he could blame him for it, he's just reaching the threshold of how much stress he could take at a time. "I'm hurt and weary, and don't want to take chances by openly approaching you... hopefully kind... lot." He ended sheepishly.

He heard no reply for some time, but heard a coughing fit from the far back that suspiciously sounded like laughter. His legs slowly lost their will to stand from crawling so long, and his thighs hurt at the mere pressure of his body against them. How long have I been in that shit hole? He asked wordlessly. He smelled like faeces, he probably looked like faeces and he most definitely felt like faeces too. Maybe he was there longer than he'd expected; even his voice was too damaged for him to judge his age.

With an inhuman growl, Phil responded. "And should we take your word for it? That you are alone?" It almost seemed like 'Phil' was insulting him with the pronouns, but he wasn't very sure how to go about it.

Before he could answer, the same man from before spoke. "Oh! Did you sense, Master Lester, any movements besides the crawling of one?" He said, and he noted that Phil's surname was Lester. "No, Captain. I haven't." He resigned. He heard what he suspected to be the man's heavy footsteps, followed by a snigger here and there among the mysterious company. "Well then! I see not a reason why we shouldn't trust a single man not to slaughter us all ten armed members of the royal guard! Come, stranger. Trust us, we mean no harm as well."

There was a sense of finality in the man's tone that suggested nobody in their right mind should question his odd, frankly disgusting, enthusiasm. Disgusted or not, seeing as his chances of survival are now better than none, he slowly stood up facing the subject of his interest and the door to his rescue, or perhaps, imminent death.

Phil Lester was not amused. At first he was extremely suspicious of the voice, no matter how pathetically tired he sounded like. But once he saw whom he had argued with he was not sure what to make of him. There are certain things you expect when you see people of this world; they were all blonde to a degree. Sporting green, blue or yellow honey eyes. That is, for some reason with the exception of Phil and his mother. He's so used to the contrast between everyone and himself that he hardly recognises how much of a difference it is anymore. Until... you see someone with thisin common. True enough, he was alone. And he did not lie when he said he was injured. What took him off guard was that he had not laid eyes on anybody of this particular description before in his life. He contradicted every expectation he had about him. First off, he was really tall. Taller than HIM. And Phil was the tallest in the group, in any group. His hair was dark brown; a colour he hadn't seen on anyone besides his mother. His skin was as pale as death, lifeless, too pale for his own good. It's obvious he'd lost so much colour if his sick form is the same as Phil's healthy form. If it were not for the bright awareness of his eyes, he would bet on him being much like the walking dead. His clothes were just as strange as his looks. He wore all black as if he was going to a funeral: black dirty shorts, a black half-sleeved shirt with the queerest pattern he'd ever seen. Also, did he mention that he was completely barefoot? Not even socks! That personally appalled Phil. He looked vulnerable, yet, strangely intimidating. His vulnerability was a strange sight to behold.

His eyes were a different story altogether. Their colour was foreign for him to see, but it wasn't exactly that which concerned him. They were a similar shade of brown as his hair, but even in the dark one could see how devastatingly alert and shining they were. He looked at everything as if he could see things that were unseen. His eyes darted from the fire, to the company and then rested on him. Their eyes connected, making Phil feel as if he was gazing at his naked soul. His face was expressionless, but his eyes held so much life and emotions, he didn't think the man needed any facial expressions. Definitely not normal, he thought. There was something mysterious about him. A dark aura that said he should not be helped, another promising aura that says he should be, a third within him that seconds the other option. He could almost swear that he heard something about people that looked like him, people that looked like himself. Except, those were not even real. They were the stuff of legend. Phil ignored it a long time ago, so much that he forgot. But one sure thing is that they were epic magic wielding wizards, like Perry Topper. He, on the other hand, looked like a broken toothpick, or a praying mantis. And his accent was strange even to his trained ears. Still, he stepped forward to aid him. To show him they were meant to help people, not grill them for dinner. Not that he looks appetising. well, he does have nice legs...

No. Phil stopped himself before he could formulate any conclusions based on that completely random remark.

Once he saw Phil approaching, he took a step back and raised one hand in front of him, causing Phil to stop and frown at his reaction. He took a deep breath in as he shut his eyes closed, then he spoke.

"Hold on a minute!" He raised his tired voice in what sounded like a command to Phil. Who does he think he is? We already said we wouldn't harm him! He tilted his head in question at him. "I believe you, now. Or do you doubt me?"

He considered something for a moment, then looked straight at him and said. "No," Not that his mistrust would change anything, really. "I just needed to adjust—I can barely focus on my surroundings without falling. You running towards me does little to help my condition, thanks by the way." The man ended, shaking his head and seeming to regret that decision.

"What's wrong with you?" He asked, surprised at how frail he was, and puzzled as to why he needs to be sarcastic about it. "What happened to you?"

"I can't say... I have a wound 'ere—" He replied pointing at the back of his head, "—and I think I had lost my memories. Oh, scratch that, I definitely did. I don't even know how I look like. Hm, but, I think my name is D—," He stopped short as he saw his limps cease to support him. Quickly, Phil ran towards the odd stranger and held him in place before he crumbled completely on the ground. Phil glanced at his half-closed eyes, almost making time stop by the intensity of their gaze. He kneeled, wrapping his arms tighter around the guy. He didn't mind the smell; he didn't mind the horrifyingly low hygiene of the person pressed against his chest. They just stared into each other's eyes, feeling something forge beyond their control. Phil could feel it, Dan was too tired to feel it, but he clenched his chest and coughed, breaking their moment as Phil was once again reminded of why he was in his arms.

"CHRIS! SEB! JUNE! COME HERE, QUICK!" He shouted as he saw the stranger breaking into a smile.

"I'm sleeping?" He whispered quietly, as his eyes shut closed, hopefully not for good.

He gazed curiously at the stranger in his arms and whispered back, "Not forever, if I could help it."

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