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candychronicles · 3 years

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bodyguard // s. todoroki

A/N: my take on the rockstar/band/performer au for bnharem! i’m not a big fan of au’s normally but this one was a lot of fun to write! todoroki is definitely ooc in this one but i took a lot of liberties with his character in order to better fit the au storyline.

CHARACTER PAIRING: Todoroki Shouto x F!Reader

WORD COUNT: 5,091

WARNINGS: mentions of blood, gore, fighting, death, oral sex (f!receiving)

SYNOPSIS: you were in it for the money, he was an unhinged popstar. how could you two ever possibly get along?

want to read more rocking stories? click HERE !

the days at work were tiring, the nights even longer, but the pay was good and it was always satisfying to make a grown man cry as you knocked him to his knees and manhandled him away from your client.

Todoroki Shouto, one of the elite, the famed, the rich, and absolutely fucking annoying. sure, he was hot (anyone with an eye could see that) but he was just like everyone else in his industry: a cocky bastard. you didn’t mind his lifestyle too much except when it interfered with his job, like having to pry off whiny people who clung to him like their life depended on it, and for some, it probably did.

his biggest claim to fame was being in a now wildly famous band, namely the main singer. he was charming with a sultry voice and a personality that oozed confidence but he wasn’t always that way. in fact, he was originally a shy, anxiety ridden teen when he first joined, not sure how to use his voice or deal with people coming up to him in the streets. the life he lived was sheltered before that, training under his dad to take over the family business, but when sweet, innocent Todoroki confessed that he much rather be artsy and sing at the age of sixteen, things quickly changed for him. his father, Todoroki Enji, tried to convince him otherwise, told him that he didn’t know how the real world worked and that he would never be successful, but Shouto wouldn’t budge and eventually Enji caved in, or so it seemed.

Enji immediately enrolled Shouto in lessons, instructing him to shape up or ship out. if he couldn’t become successful in the industry, he would take over his father’s business instead, but that didn’t happen. Shouto excelled in lessons, blowing his instructors away with his timbre and control. he was a natural, and frankly, good enough to be a star. they weren’t so concerned with his stoic yet endearing personality. they had broken enough pop stars, molded them to be perfect model citizens, so what was one more?

the plan backfired immensely. as Shouto’s talent grew, Enji seeked out the biggest in the game, convincing them to give his son a chance at stardom. while reluctant, the board agreed, not wanting to piss off one of the most powerful men in Japan but were thoroughly surprised at the fact that his kid didn’t suck at all. in fact, he was actually good, really, really good.

they signed him immediately, whisking him away into the life of fame and fortune at the young age of seventeen. his range, the slight rasp to his tone and the ability to reach into somebody's soul and pluck the very feelings they try to hide so deeply from it’s depths pushed him towards the life of a rockstar. the freedom he had never been able to experience living at home pushed him over the edge and spiraled him out of control.

Todoroki drank, smoked, and fucked his way through cities big and small, getting himself into a lot of trouble along the way. the behavior went on for years, only getting worse as time went on. nobody seemed to be able to get control over the boy with the pretty hair and wild scar. after almost killing several women and one of his bandmates in a drunk driving accident, his team, label, and most importantly his father had enough.

the conversation between the two did not go well. Shouto was now an adult, legally free and clear from his father’s power. he had his own money, enough to live comfortably for awhile, even if he dropped the band, and all of the repressed rage, longing and anger that was pent up from his childhood. he was not stopping his lifestyle for anyone. that was, until you came along.

you were always a scrapper, getting yourself in trouble more times than you could count. it was just in your nature to defend those who couldn’t defend themselves and you spent many days on the playground beating up the bullies who picked on the sweet girl braiding flowers into her hair, or the boy who liked to play with baby dolls instead of trucks.

as you got older, your fights got fewer and farther in between, at least when it came to the public.

when you turned sixteen and kicked some kid who was trying to look up your skirt so hard in the chin that he saw stars, you were approached by a few men who slid you a card and told you if you wanted to make money fighting, come meet them.

you were a dumb kid and instead of running in the opposite direction and telling the police, you showed up at the seemingly dingy door behind the alley of a fairly run down ramen restaurant. knocking on the door and rocking back on your heels, you waited to see what would happen. it took a few seconds before a panel slid open, allowing you to see nothing but someone’s eyes peering at you in the mid-afternoon sun. hesitantly, you raised the business card in your hand, showing it to the person and jumping in surprise as the panel slammed shut and the door creaked open, inviting you in.

you nodded your head politely at who you realized was a rather bulky, burly man, before a woman dressed in a silky black dress plucked the card delicately from your hand and led you through the hallway. when she opened the door, you were taken aback by the scene.

people of all shapes and sizes stood cheering as two rather muscular men fought in an arena across the room. spit and blood flew across the floor as the two pummeled each other over and over again before one tapped out, the other man raising his fist in the air in victory. you stood, gaze fixed on the scene in front of you, blood racing at the thought of you being in the ring.

“addicting, isn’t it?” the woman whispered in your ear, a knowing smile on her face before she gently took you by the sleeve and guided you away from the screams and shouts into a private room that was much quieter.

you sat down in front of a man who was rather tall and thin, graying hair across his head and a clean shaven face.

“so, i heard you’re a good fighter. how good do you think you are?”

“uh-” you stuttered, not sure how to respond, “i think i can kick someone’s ass if i have a reason to.”

“is money a good enough reason for you?”

“money is a nice reward, yeah, yeah it is,” you confirmed, not pondering the question over for a second.

“good, you start on Saturday. come in comfy clothes that you won’t mind getting sweaty and dirty in. you’re my new ace, a secret weapon. give it six months time and you’ll be defeating guys like that out there in seconds.”

and defeat you did. over and over again, men, women, anyone who thought they were better than you were defeated by your own fists. you worked hard and then some, through literal sweat, blood and tears, to reach the status of champion of the underworld by the age of eighteen.

you were a wild card, unpredictable in your stature. you didn’t have hulking muscles and a sturdy frame, but what you did have was speed, the element of surprise, and the ability to calculate in a split second, all of which allowed you to defeat your enemies time and time again. this relative victory didn’t come without your share of sacrifices: hiding the bruises, blackened eyes and bloody lips from your family as you trained relentlessly, having to figure out a way to manage the steady flow of income that started coming your way as you fought in your first official matches, defeat after defeat as you trained, chipping a tooth and having it promptly filled in like nothing happened, having to learn how to disarm and fire a gun, work with knives and most importantly, losing a bit of your empathy along the way.

it came as no surprise when people who were much more powerful and much, much richer started taking an interest in you, placing large bets upon your head at some of the higher staked matches, a feat you worked your way up to after many years. you never failed to disappoint, knowing that these fights were the ones that mattered the most, the ones that brought you, and your boss, the biggest pools of money.

it was at one of these fights on a dreary, rainy night that you met Todoroki Enji, a hulking man that failed to intimidate you. you were used to people his size and bigger thinking he could take advantage of someone like you and it only made you chuckle thinking of how easy it would be to have him on his knees in seconds.

“i’ve made a proposal to your boss that he couldn’t refuse. he said he couldn’t and wouldn’t force you to do anything, but since you’re quite motivated by money, i think you’ll be intrigued by my offer,” he started, sitting down next to you in one of the VIP booths, sliding his business card on the table with a sly smile.

you were interested and entertained him, listening to him ramble about his shitty kid and his bad behavior. amused, you sipped on your drink as you absorbed his rants and whines about the negative reputation his kid was creating for himself, how he abused his freedom and power to the fullest extent and how his life was spiraling out of control.

“what does this have to do with me, exactly?” you finally questioned, setting your drink down and turning to face him, eyes met squarely with his own.

“i’d like to hire you to be his personal bodyguard.”

“sounds like he needs a babysitter, not a bodyguard,” you retorted, getting ready to stand up and move away from this blathering idiot.

when he spit out a number so outrageous, however, you sat back down, now thoroughly intrigued by the situation at hand. satisfied that he had your full attention, he went into details, laying down a fairly thin stack of papers in front of you as you listened to every detail.

“so let me get this straight. i’m to be his personal bodyguard, keep his shitty behavior a little more under control, whip him up into shape sort of situation. that’s it? and i’ll get paid that much for being a glorified babysitter?”

“you will have to protect him, of course. there are some crazy fans out there that climb windows, seduce themselves into his bed, stalk him, chase him down, but i don’t think it’s anything that, with your expertise, you can’t handle.”

you continued to ponder the situation before gesturing him to continue with his story. he rambled for another moment or two before picking up the papers and going over them with you: standard non-disclosure agreements, a detailed list of your job description and a contract agreement that he was subleasing you through your boss.

after a few minutes of reading the contracts over and discussing them with your boss, you agreed to the scenario, locking yourself into what would be a rather entertaining six months.

the first time you met Todoroki, he instantly tried to hit on you, but when his hand lowered down to grab your ass, you had him on his knees with his left hand behind his back before he could even blink. after that encounter, your conversations were curt. he knew what you were here for and he wasn’t about to let you get his way.

what he wasn’t expecting was for you to be so relaxed about the whole situation. he still drank, still partied, fucked almost whatever girl or guy he wanted, but anytime things got too out of hand, you stepped in, firm but gentle, guiding the crying groupies out of his bedroom after their time was over, driving him every time he got too drunk, cutting him off from any supplies when he was getting out of hand and most importantly, keeping him safe during his travels.

he never realized how much danger he was always in until you mitigated the problems with ease. he just assumed that being assaulted on the daily was something that came with being in the public until you broke some robbers finger when they tried to swipe the wallet out of his own back pocket. after that, he almost clung to you like a koala on a tree anytime he was out in public. you provided stability in a time where he was drowning in his own worries.

that didn’t mean he was ever nice to you though. in reality, he was actually sometimes meaner to you, the simple fact that some girl could be stronger than him set him off, always feeling on edge around you. you weren’t necessarily quiet, offering up any and all small bits and pieces about yourself that he ever wanted to know, but he never really knew you: not your last name, where you were from, if you had any siblings, parents, where you went to school, what your job was, who you were on the inside. it bugged him like crazy to know what your favorite color was and that you liked cheese on your ramen but not anything important, anything he wanted to know.

you liked to keep it that way, however, and would stay as friendly yet aloof as possible. this was a job to you, a job that would set you up easy for awhile and gave you a break from fighting for the most part. you wouldn’t admit to yourself that you liked the man more than you would’ve expected. you felt the way he clung to you as fans swarmed him, the way he always looked to you in reassurance as you walked the streets at night, hearing his sobs in the shower, sobs that were so broken and confused. it showed to you a side of him that was vulnerable, that showed emotion.

he broke down towards the end of your stay, realizing a little too late how much easier it was for you to do your job when he was cooperative and nice. in fact, he began to be more open about enjoying your company and spending time with you. it made it harder for you to continue with your job knowing you were falling for the pretty rich boy, for the man you were hired to protect, for the man who looked at you like you could do no wrong but vehemently would deny it. you began enjoying the little moments with him, the stolen glances, the laughing. you didn’t know what changed in him but you were glad he was someone you could get along with. underneath that crazy exterior, he was just a guy who wanted a friend.

your six months came up relatively quickly. it sucked that your cushy job living in five star hotels, eating decadent meals and working out in state of the art facilities would be over soon but you felt yourself getting lazy, weak and losing your rather sharp edge. it was time to get back into the grind and despite your heart panging at the fact that you would leave the pretty boy with the angry and sad heart behind, you were ready to go.

your last night of work consisted of the final show in Tokyo. tens of thousands of guests were set to attend what would be the bands biggest concert ever. you were calm, cool and collected as always, but the singer, not so much.

he spent the day pacing back and forth, warming up his vocals, hydrating himself, stretching and generally doing his best to calm his nerves.

in a rare act of affection, you reached out to grab your hand with his own, looking him dead in the eye and telling him that this night would be one he would remember forever; and you were right, just not for the way either of you thought.

the show went amazing, the crowd loud and receptive, the choreography flawless, the singing perfect. Todoroki ran off stage with the biggest smile he had ever seen and in his own rare display of affection, twirled you around with ease, adrenaline still pumping through his system.

you congratulated him on the great show and waited patiently for him to remove all the makeup and his costume. he emerged a little while later, hair flat against his head, wet from the shower, sweatpants and an inconspicuous gray hoodie donning his body. you bid a pleasant farewell to his bandmates before escorting him back to the car. he had requested that you drive him back to the hotel and spend one final night in the comfortable hotel beds before you headed back to your hometown.

when you arrived, however, things felt quiet, a little too quiet, and the hair stood up on the back of your neck.

“Shouto, you need to get into the driver’s seat right now, turn on the car and lock it. do not let me in until i tell you to. do not get out of the car, okay?”

he began to question you but before he had a chance to argue, you were pushing him out of the way as a knife sliced towards him, figures cloaked in black emerging from the shadows.

one, two, three, four.

you counted out the four assailants as you shoved Shouto against the car, prompting him to unlock and scramble in through the back seat. only when you heard the click of the lock did you breathe a sigh of relief and begin your attack.

the first man with the knife was tall and lanky, using his height to his advantage, trying to overwhelm you, but with a quick kick to the back of his kneecaps, he went tumbling onto his knees. now shorter than you, you were able to control him by grabbing onto the top of his head and slamming it into the ground, effectively knocking him out.

one, two, three.

the next man thought his muscles would save the day, but his size lacked any true speed, and you were able to land fingers to his eyes, a punch square to his nose. a quick chokehold and he was knocked out against the concrete as well.

one, two.

they both came at once, knives flailing in the air as they sliced your way. one managed to gouge out a chunk of flesh in your arm but you paid no mind, too focused on the task at hand as you grabbed the knife with your hand and used the other arm to knock into their elbow, making them loosen their grip enough to let go of the blade that you then embedded into their shoulder. the other assailant took your distraction to swing the knife your way and as you were trying to dodge the serrated edge, used their other fist to swing up into your chin. you felt your teeth chatter against each other, blood mixing with saliva as you bit your tongue. spitting, you slammed your hand down against their wrist, grabbing the knife with your hand and yanking, not caring that it sliced into your palm as you flipped the weapon around to shove it into their abdomen.

with both men distracted, you slammed your fist against the car door, telling Shouto to quickly unlock it so you could get in. when you heard the telltale click, you instantly dove into the backseat, yelling at him to lock it and drive as fast as he could back to the hotel. he did as he was told with an eerie calmness to him, backing out and around the attackers that were attempting to survey the damage that had been dealt to them.

once you had made the relatively quick trip back to the hotel, you hurriedly jumped out of the car, telling Shouto to carry his own bags so you could be on alert if anything were to happen, scanning each and every corner for a possible other attack. thankfully, everything was safe as you made your way into his hotel room.

you dropped him off quietly, not even attempting to walk into his room, but only fifteen minutes had passed before he was knocking on your door, a first aid kit he had gotten from the front desk securely tucked under his arm.

you let him in without a word, locking the door behind you and turning to face him. before you had a chance to ask what he was doing there, he had dragged you into your rather grandiose bathroom, sitting you on the steps leading up to the jacuzzi tub and pulling out the contents of the kit onto the floor.

he began by assessing the damage to your wounds, cleaning and disinfecting them before wrapping both your hand and arm rather efficiently.

“i had to wrap a lot of my own wounds as well as my siblings. dear old dad let the temper get the best of him sometimes and it wasn’t always so pretty,” he explained, teeth clenching together in an attempt to remain calm.

“thanks for this. i’m sure they’ll heal just fine,” you replied, not wanting to put him in a situation where he had to talk about his troubling past.

“you could’ve died protecting me today, you know?”

“that’s my job Todoroki. i was hired to protect you, i protected you, and i’m fine, thank you very much. this is not my first fight and it definitely won’t be my last.”

he sighed, rubbing his temples as he sat down on the marble floor in front of you, holding your wounded hand in his own, tracing the fabric that surrounded your palm.

“i recognized one of the cars in the parking lot. it was a company car, one of my dad’s cars to be precise. i know they can seem relatively inconspicuous but i memorized every car my dad ever had, big or small. it was definitely his car.”

you mulled over his words for a moment before sighing yourself, slumping against the stairs as your head rested against the rim of the tub.

“your dad sent those men, huh? that’s why you were so eerily calm driving away. you knew you weren’t really in any danger, that those men were secretly there to kill me,” you finally concluded, anger boiling deep within the pit of your stomach.

“yeah, i think they were. i don’t think dad is too fond of the fact that you and i got close. i-i like you a lot more than i let on, i’ve told him so. i thought that would make him happy, knowing i have someone in my life that i could rely on and trust, but he didn’t like the fact that he couldn’t control you after these six months were up, think he wanted to teach me a lesson.”

“wouldn’t be the first time i’ve had a hit out on my head. this one, however, is probably going to be a lot tricker to deal with.”

Shouto sunk deeper into himself, body shaking with rage as he saw the fight flash in his head over and over again.

“i’m going to protect you. if you want to, that is. i’ll sign you on as my own bodyguard, however much money you want. i’ll be by your side always, make sure that nobody tries to kill you, tries to hurt you like that again.”

“i can fend for myself Todoroki.”

“it’s Shouto. and why won’t you let anyone else take care of you? listen, i know i’ve been kind of an ass but i thought we were at least friends, and yet i know nothing about you. i know your favorite color, your favorite animal, that you like sunsets and the rain and snuggling under comfy sheets at the end of the day, that your eyes sparkle when you get a chance to fight but secretly crave peace and comfort, but i don’t know who you are. your name, your story, why you’re really here.”

you heaved as you sat back up, staring him straight in the eye to find no malice, no anger, only confusion, empathy and maybe even a bit of longing. so you told him, you told him everything: who you were, what you were, where you grew up, about your childhood dog and all the scraps you had as a kid, how two strange men in suits approached you and groomed you to fight at the age of sixteen, how it was the only thing you knew how to do, the only thing you were good at, how you scared yourself sometimes because you enjoyed the pain that came with the fights. he sat there watching, eyes wide and unblinking as he absorbed every word you said, every bit of pain and anxiety, of longing for someone to love and understand you, of not having to fight all the time, of wanting to be vulnerable for once.

“let me take care of you,” he declared, standing up and outstretching his hand towards you, helping you up from the cool tile, hand coming to rest behind your head once you had steadied yourself.

he leaned forward, unsure and hesitant, before placing his lips against your own, soft and gentle, tasting of mint chapstick and coffee. you were unsure of yourself, awkward, full of aches and pains, wanting so badly to let go but never wanting to get hurt.

“it’s okay, you’re safe with me. let me take care of you, please.”

that was all it took for you to open up, looping your arms around his neck as he led you back to the bedroom, careful to not run you into anything. your knees hit the back of the bed and you reflexively tensed up, like a deer in headlights.

he shushed you, rubbing his hands up and down your arms, heeding the bandage and wound underneath. you laid back after that, body attempting to relax as his hands ran themselves soothingly over your body, across your breasts, the flesh of your stomach, your thighs, the corded muscles in your calves, slipping your shoes off, your socks, kissing every inch of your body along the way, making sure you were comfortable. you shimmied out of your pants, your tight shirt, bra, underwear, finally bare for him to see, scars, bruises, all the imperfections of your life.

“so, so beautiful,” he murmured, taking his time to kiss every single blemish and scar that you had, wanting you to feel his dedication.

after what felt like hours of soft kisses, his thumb came to rest on your clit, rubbing in quick and precise circles, fingers gently parting your folds to press into your body, back arching at the feeling of him already.

“it’s all about you tonight, okay? just relax, let me show you how much i appreciate you.”

and appreciate you he did. he dropped to his knees, nose nuzzling into your pubic bone as he kitten licked your clit once, twice, three times, testing your reaction. you whined and squirmed at the feeling, already overwhelmed by his fingers lazily dragging in and out of you. you wanted, needed more, but Todoroki wouldn’t hear any of that. you deserved to be treated right, treated gently tonight, to allow your worries to melt away, if only for a few moments.

his fingers began picking up pace, pistoning in and out of you, his fingers curling in all the right spots, fists clenched into the downy comforter as you attempted to ground yourself from the overwhelming situation. his tongue worked against your clit, changing speed and pressure, trying to find what was the right combination to set you off, watching your every move intently as you squirmed around on the bed. before he even got a chance to get into a routine, you were already cumming over his fingers, creamy liquid coating the digits.

he hummed in contentment, pulling his fingers out to lick up the syrup, you watching with your pupils blown wide.

you went to sit up, body aching from the adrenaline of the fight, but he pushed you back down into the plush bed, tutting as he settled his head against your thigh, kissing, sucking and biting along the plump flesh, leaving little marks only he would know about.

his tongue began lapping at your clit again, this time harsher, more in tune with what your body wanted. you clenched your legs around his head, fisting his hair with your good hand as you tried to ground yourself yet again to reality. his velvety tongue felt like heaven against your body, coaxing moans and sighs out of your mouth. you felt your second orgasm hit you like a freight truck, tingles running up your spine. you tried to push his head away but he only held your body down, a frighteningly feral look on his face as he continued to lap against your clit, unrelenting in his pursuit to pull orgasm after orgasm from you.

after, two, three, four more highs, you couldn’t tell where one began and one ended, he was finally satisfied, pulling his face away, chin glistening in the dim light. your eyes were teary and red, overwhelmed by everything he had put you through. you had never been more satisfied in your life, and by the look on Shouto’s face, he knew it too.

your eyelids began to droop and your body relaxed into the mattress as you came back down into reality. Shouto shuffled around the room before settling you into your bed, tucking the sheets around your body and propping your head against your pillow.

he was enamored by your, by your story, how you opened up so willingly to him after tonight. nothing would get in between you two now. he was just starting to truly know you, know the real you, and nothing was going to stop him from wooing you until you were his, not even his father., and if her life was ever threatened again by him, well, Shouto would just have to kill Todoroki Enji.

#todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki #shouto todoroki #bnha x reader #mha x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha #bnha #bnharem collab

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mundanewayv · 4 years

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my neighbour is an alien. / hendery w.

2k neighbour au! requests for wayv are open so pop-by if you wish~ this is literally how i envision neighbour! hendery to be.

your neighbour was quite an alien. not exactly UFO-looking, in fact, he was rather a charmer; so much that the old ladies down the exercise corner swoons over him, talking about how he looks like some certain prince or male lead from their soap operas. he was the kind of neighbour that puts his name, which you learnt was Hendery, clear and big on his house door.

you could tell how he was about the same age from the way he decorated his balcony. he had those artificial carpet grass, a darts board that hung loosely from a poorly-positioned nail on the wall and somehow, an awfully mismatched pink flamingo was there amongst his decorations.

it's not like the both of you haven't met or spoke to each before. it was just that both your frequencies were a little different. when you were busy reading a book or doing some assignments, hendery would be doing some sort of karaoke practice with his speakers amped up to a maximum or if you were tending to your mini garden, he would be laying on his artificial grass, having a mini sun-tan session.

the awkward part came when your mails got mixed up. it was a common occurrence if you had neighbours like hendery; those who were too damn lazy to clear out the clutter in his mailbox but enjoys the lavish online shopping lifestyle.

some odd-shaped, sturdy, twirly-wirly object appeared in your mailbox one day and stuck onto its wrapper was the address sticker clearly written with your neighbour's name on it. there wasn't much of a corridor space so it took less than 3 steps before you were ringing doorbell. you stood there, examining the parcel as you waited for him to open the door.

"hey neighbour, what's up?" he greets you cheerfully from behind the door frame.

"your mail was in my mailbox." you passed him the parcel and he reaches out carefully to retrieve it. he takes a look at it, probably as confused as you were about what he bought and a bell seemed to have rung in his head and he swings his door open fully this time, exposing only a towel wrapped around his torso.

"wicked! the hamster slides are here!" hendery celebrates excitedly.

"what's taking you so long, hendery. the water's getting cold." another male emerges, also only with a towel around his torso and his arms crossed.

"ten, the hamster slides are here!" he turns around to show them to the other male. however, ten just waves him off and tells him he's going to add the bubbles.

"was i interrupting something?" you asked, when he was busy looking at the pink and green hamster slides.

"ah, no. of course not! you can join us if you want." your eyes widened at his offer, slightly shocked about how adventurous your neighbour was.

"you know what hendery, i think i'll just go back and feed my cat or something." you slowly inched backwards to your apartment.

"hey, i didn't get your name yet." he said, sounding a bit disappointed with your decline.

"uh, y/n would do." and you have never zoomed so quickly back into your house before.

the next time the both you met was the following morning, when you went out for your morning run. it seemed like ten stayed over considering how he and hendery were having a mini walkathon competition with the old ladies; their sportsbands secured around their heads and their arms close to their sides as their feet busied themselves. hendery spots you as you walked out of the apartment complex,

"hey y/n, taking your cat out for a walk?" hendery calls out to you. right. the imaginary cat that saved you from the adventures of the two male before you.

"nah, it ran away from home yesterday." you replied curtly and waved before going for your run.

a run alone gave you time to unwind and not put anyone against yourself unlike the rat race of your office. a familiar face appears in your periphery vision, pink sports band and white trainers as he picks up his pace to match yours. hendery gestured to you to take off a side of your headphones.

"slow down a little. i can't breathe,"

"to clear things up, me and ten didn't do anything yesterday. he came over to try the new hot tub i installed at home. right, ten?"

"yup." ten breathed out as he tried to get as much oxygen as possible whilst catching up with hendery.

"it's really good though. you should try it sometimes." he jogs in front of you, stopping you in your position.

"that's nice, hendery. thank you." you were genuinely touched, because your alien of a neighbour turned out to be the nicest person you ever knew.

both you and hendery became closer after that day. yes, you did try his hot tub as he asked you to and he even left the whole tub to you because he didn't want you to feel awkward so he sat on a chair by the tub and chatted with you. you would help feed and take his pesky golden pomeranian out for walks while he was out of town (which was quite a bore because hendery's absence was like an elephant in the room). he would even wait for you at the subway so the both of you could walk back to the apartment together because it wasn't safe to be alone at night.

you found yourself missing hendery when he was back in macau to visit his family at the year end. the pink flamingo decoration stood lonely as it awaited for its owner to come home. he even brought his noisy golden pomeranian with him. usual mornings with him around would be you trying to pass cookies or sandwiches over to the other side with a butterfly net. life surprisingly became mundane; your runs got lonely and you were welcomed by the quiet and dim apartment next to yours when you came home.

that separation from your neighbour, whom you suddenly got the chance to get close to, gave you a chance to ponder over a glass of wine. nobody knew what direction this relationship was moving towards. both of you enjoyed each other's company but at the same time, appreciated the 3 steps corridor distance separating the both of you. hendery is a nice guy, a little bit eccentric while you were more serious. a mutual friendship was more like it, the type where the both of you would come together and act as a couple to get a couples discount at that french restaurant down the street on valentine's day.

after a few weeks, you find postcards from hendery, saying how he misses his hot tub and the weather in macau was either too sweltering hot or had too many passing showers to sun-tan under and he missed playing mini golf on his artificial grass. and most importantly, he missed you and ten the most. occasionally, the mail man messes up the parcels again and you drop hendery a message about them but he insists they were for you. he sent you all kinds of things from giant clothing hangers to mini fruit juice blenders, he claims that he thought of you while he was shopping online in macau and since they were on discount, why not?

your apartment granted you a city view despite its tiny space: which made new years’ day even more special. you could see the fireworks and the city skyline while sitting in your balcony. you were looking forward to spending your first new years’ with your brand new friend but news came in that he was staying till chinese new year. as the fireworks decorated the sky, you took a picture of it, sending it to hendery,

“i miss you so much.” you sent a text bubble accompanying the picture. you took a deep sigh, ready to just end your lonely day and retreating back to your room when your notification bell chimed.

“i miss you too.” he replied, with a picture of his dinner attached. it probably wasn’t new year’s yet where he was.

you left for work early and came home late, since there wasn’t much to look forward to. you ate out more often and focused on reading and working. as you were climbing up the stairs, you noticed the addition of a string of fairy lights lit up in the corridor between you and hendery’s house. that wasn’t there in the morning, you thought to yourself. and when you climb a little more, you saw the neighbour who you’d missed so dearly, a brown scarf wrapped around his neck and his gloved hands holding onto a bouquet of pink flowers and his pomeranian. the barks of his pet felt like life has been restored into you because you knew he was home.

“hendery!” you jumped gleefully and gave him a hug.

“woah! you’re going to squish my dog like that.” he chuckles, passing you the bouquet of flowers.

“come in, i want to show you something.” hendery invites you into his apartment and you trailed behind him. seems like he had unpacked before you arrived with the additions of new gadgets and trinkets around the house. he leads you to his balcony where he placed chairs for the both of you by a giant telescope.

“tadah!” he flaunts his equipment like a little boy with a brand new toy.

“apparently, there’s going to be a meteor shower tonight, and if you’re lucky, you might see a flying saucer or ET on his bike.” he says excitedly, getting you comfortable with a blanket across your lap and a mug of hot chocolate.

both of you waited while catching up on each other for the past few months. you told hendery about how a new kid had moved in to the house down the lobby and he told you about how he ended up in the emergency room after eating too much during the festivities.

“it’s here! look look!” he pulls you to look into the telescope and burst of lights sprinkled the skies like glitter.

“quick y/n! make a wish!” hendery clasps his hands tightly and his eyes shut tight, wishing hard. you copied him and searched deep for a wish you desperately wanted to come through.

“so what did you wish for y/n?” he asked.

“i wished for us to be together forever. as neighbours or best friends or something else.” you told him as you watched the sparkle in his eyes as he watch you speak.

“how about you?”

“well,” he rubs his nape sheepishly, taints of pink and red on his cheeks,

“i wished that i can be more than just your best friend. not right away, of course. but soon. hopefully.” hendery confessed, his hands moving to cover his blushing face bashfully. you peeled his hand covering his face and held it in yours, both of you basking in the magical atmosphere, a mark of something new.

“do you think aliens fall in love with their neighbours too or do they just fly around in their saucers?” hendery asked, giggling and playing with your fingers in his hands.

#hendery scenarios #hendery scenario #wayv scenario #wayv scenarios #hendery #wayv #hendery fluff #wayv fluff

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cpirits · 4 years

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Name: Daimon Masaru Age: 19 Birthday: April 2 Blood Type: B

Body Type: Muscular Height: 5′9″ Weight: 140lbs

Hair: Auburn Eyes: Muddy Gold

Digimon: Agumon

Agumon » GeoGreymon » RiseGreymon » ShineGreymon » ShineGreymon Ruin Mode

Occupation: Digital World’s Ruin Hobbies: Street Fighting, Boxing, Swimming, & eating fried eggs

Appearance: The Second season shirt and vest along with his Father’s tag. Wears the same green pants but with Combat Boots as they’re a lot more sturdy on his feet for trekking in the Digital World. His hair is longer in the back and he keeps it tied like always. His wrists have been wrapped underneath the black bands.

::Summarized Background::

[Masaru here is portrayed as a mix of the whole series of Savers, having knowledge and memories from everything that went on in the show, having both 1st and 2nd season outfits and already being able to Digivolve Agumon to Shine Greymon+Shine Greymon Ruin Mode.]

[He is set taking refuge in the middle to end of the series in my thought timeline, yet carries knowledge of the end with shattering Yggdrasil’s true form. Though with my Headcannon, Yggdrasil was somehow revived and made anew so that’s why Suguru was captured a second time to become the body.]

[this holds both Cannon and Headcannon info.]

::Detailed Background::

When Masaru was 4, his father left with a team of researchers to go and discover the Digital World and learn about it. Before leaving Suguru gave his son a necklace, to always remember him, and it has become a thing on which Masaru makes promises on and his most prized possession.

As Masaru grew up, he had no father figure in his life, so he got picked on in school and had to valiantly protect his sister, Chika from bullies and other people who tried to hurt her. His mother was really hardly any help to the kids always staying home to clean and keep the house in order, and sending the kids out to play by themselves.

When Masaru was 12 he discovered street fighting as a way to make a little money in secret for his mom, and vent his anger. In these fights he eventually gave in to the darkness in his heart, and thus his Dark Digidestined identity was born.

At 14, Masaru got involved with Agumon, and eventually joined DATS and made many new friends, and learned more about his father. He ventured into the Digital world several times within the first few years of being with DATS.

Also at the age of 16, Masaru met his father, or rather, his father’s body in the Digital World, that had been possessed by Yggdrasil. His emotions created an inner turmoil as his father’s body spoke to him in a way that simply was not him.

When fighting against his fellow DATS memeber Tohma, who Masaru felt had betrayed him, Masaru realied on the darkness within to channel his power and Dark Digivolve Agumon into ShineGreymon Ruin Mode. Doing so was highly taxing on the Digimon and only fed deeper into changing Masaru.

Twice Masaru tried to bring his father back, and Suguru’s partner, BanchouLeomon ended up dying the second time, so all hope was lost to bring the man home.

Some time passed and Masaru soon became wrapped up in the darkness of his heart, and became a Dark Digidestined, leaving his family and DATS behind, and living on his own.

At 19 Masaru travels back and forth from the Human World and Digital World, and is often seen upset or silent. When he is vocal however, he can be destructive.

*BanchoLeomon /is/ in a way, Masaru’s father, Suguru. Surugu gave his Digimon his spirit/Digisoul before he got nabbed and taken over by Yggdrasil.

#mind: Masaru ( digisoul fist )#* // Digimon AU ( darkdigidestned )#( && muse about )#// long post

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slushblock · 7 years

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Fell - Chapter 6 - Paving the Road

Alternate title: Bones Shatter. Because I like that song. Dug it up yeears ago when trying to find character songs for an old RP.

This is a longer chapter.

It gets... a bit dark.

The final stretch approaches...

It was time to head to the dungeon.

Without going to Hell, the trio of explorers had pretty much explored everything else. The cursed stronghold and the mysterious islands in the sky were all that remained.

Naturally, it was easier with Ren’s network of mine tracks. While the trip there by foot was more than familiar, not having to slog through snow or slip their way through icy caverns was a welcome reprieve. They’d chained three minecarts together, with Ren in the back on the brakes, and Axl sitting in front casually slouching with his back to the direction they traveled. It’s not like there was any need to steer.

Aura sat in the middle cart, fiddling with a short, tattered red scarf wrapped tightly around her neck and looking quite stark in contrast to the two purple-clad men. She was finally wearing armor, but armor lightweight enough to tolerate, made from sturdy, golden honeycomb they found in the jungle. Donning it gave her quite the rapport with the wildlife; three large hornets now sat inside the cart with her, buzzing their wings as they snuggled up to her ankles, trying not to be blown away by the wind over top the cart.

To Axl’s half-relief - he’d stopped actually caring after the third day or so, but kept up the act for the simple humor of it - she finally decided to leave the slime at home, but the large insects were arguably, or at least objectively, worse; he was, after all, deathly allergic. Not that it meant much when the aggressive specimens in the jungle could literally run a human through, rendering an allergy the least of one’s problems.

He suspected she chose to do it on purpose just to bug him, so he tried his best to ignore it after getting smacked for the initial, obligatory pun on the subject. Whether she was irritated by it was up for grabs, though, as she had also laughed, “It’s funny that it’d come to this. You know how I was in a band? Before I came here? Wanna know what it was called?”

Axl leaned forward, “Sure, hit me.”

She did. Literally. But also while snorting, “None of Your Bees Knees.”

Axl joined her laugh, “Wow, that’s an awful band name!”

“Well it wasn’t my idea! I was just the guitarist.”

Things were not looking quite so jolly now. Knowing what was ahead of them knocked the mood down a peg, as hard as Axl tried to keep it up with his humming, which wasn’t ever any real good to begin with.

The fact that cart rides didn’t tend to spur much conversation didn’t help, but as they exited the icy caverns, a burning question in Axl’s mind for quite some time finally decided to surface, “So… uh…” He tried to figure out the best way to level the concern, “Don’t… don’t take this the wrong way, but that guy who knows way more than anyone should-” he coughed, “...well, he mentioned something, and it’s been bothering me,” Axl took a moment to reconsider his curiosity, only to reconsider his reconsideration, holding up his hands, “What’s the story about the name ‘Gus’?”

Ren pulled the brakes on the train of carts so fast it nearly flung the other two out. They stared at him and he glared right back, and Aura turned again to stare at Axl, mouthing ‘why would you say that??!’

“Get out,” Ren muttered, simply.

Axl shrunk away a bit, looking exceptionally guilty, “...Is it really that bad-?”

“I said get out. Not go away,” Ren clarified as he hopped out of the minecart, himself, “I’ll answer your question on the surface, kid.”

That rapid change of tone took both Axl and Aura by surprise as they watched Ren turn, heading back through the track’s tunnel. They followed behind him as he quietly counted torches, tapping at the walls, before opening one of the many hidden passages into the surrounding caverns. The ascent to the surface was relatively smooth and well-lit, emerging in a lightly forested area not unlike where they’d started.

The large man winced at the sun as he looked around, then up at the sky through the canopy of trees. The dungeon could be seen in the distance, and a floating island overhead gave him the points of reference he needed as he waved his hand to the others, silently beckoning them to follow.

It was nearly directly beneath the island above, though offset in the dungeon’s direction. A small, naturally-formed alcove emitting a spring of water, flowing in thin streams down to a small pool. Under the shade of the unusual formation was a rough, almost sign-like structure made of wood, already beginning to be overgrown with moss. There was a name on it, mostly-obscured.

It took a moment for Axl and Aura to realize it was more than just a signpost; it was so strange to see a grave marker. As far as either of them knew, people didn’t die here; not permanently, at least. Axl removed his helmet, and Aura, seeing him do so, followed suit.

“Served together,” Ren started, looking down, not bothering to remove his, “Weren’t that close at first, but he was the only person who called me Gus.” He glanced back at them for a moment, before returning his gaze to the makeshift memorial, “Had a cousin nicknamed Ren that he didn’t like much. Didn’t want it impeding with our assignment.”

The younger adventurers looked on in wonder; Ren’s voice didn’t seem to carry much in the way of sentiment, but all the same they could feel there was at least some emotion in there as he continued, “Found the mirror on deployment, in an abandoned house we’d ducked into. Thought it was some kind of optical trick. Tried to figure out how it worked. Took us both.”

He knelt down, brushing some dust and leaves from the top of the marker and trying to peel back some of the moss, “Nothing seemed wrong at first. We tried to figure out this stupid world together. As you know, it’s easier with a competent buddy who’s got your back.” Axl nodded, his frown deepening at the upsetting implication.

“Ain’t perfect, though. Not when both people make the same stupid mistake,” Ren narrowed his eyes, then closed them, shaking his head, “Didn’t listen to that old man. Figured he was crazy.” Axl cringed reflexively. Aura merely looked away; having heard the story from Axl, she had no intention of checking for herself, but probably would have done the same thing out of stubborn curiosity otherwise.

Feeling the knowing silence, Ren continued, “Well, we both died that day. I came back…” He closed his eyes tighter, clenching his teeth, “Mitch didn’t.”

“But… how?” Axl whispered to himself. It was still loud enough for Ren to catch. The large man shrugged.

“Don’t know how or why, but apparently this world didn’t take a hold of him. Maybe the mirror wasn’t supposed to bring two people over. Don’t think I’ll ever know…” He looked up, off in the direction of the dungeon, “The best I can do now is get even. ...Heh,” he half-laughed, “Funny you’d bring it up today, of all days.”

“Yeah, strange coincidence,“ Aura put her helmet back on and crossed her arms, tilting her head at Axl. One of her hornets landed on her shoulder, buzzing and tilting its own head in mirror to her own.

“Don’t look at me, I was just making small talk,” Axl held up his hands defensively, “I kinda wanted to ask for a while now.”

“Whatever. Let’s get going,” Ren sighed, “Could use the walk.”

“Why’d you go off on your own, anyway?” Axl tried to keep some kind of conversation going, as it looked like it would be a while, “Maybe there’d have been more help if you stuck around.”

“Neither of us liked that smartass who was trying to lead us around with his ‘advice’, so we made our own way,” Ren huffed, “After Mitch died, though, I couldn’t go crawling back to ask questions, so I didn’t. However, I was losing my mind day by day. I just wanted to get out of this madhouse, even if it meant dying permanently, too. That’s why I’ve been digging around in the dark places of this world. Trying to find wherever death is hiding,” Ren paused for a moment, looking down at the ground… and projecting his thoughts to what lay even deeper, “I think I’ve found the answer… The truth. but I won’t be certain until we’ve killed that thing in the underworld.” He looked up, “I thought I could do it on my own… but the help is certainly appreciated knowing what I know now.”

“Where did you learn so much?” Aura asked, genuinely curious. It was hard enough making heads or tails of any of the madness around them without the guide’s help, vague as it could be at times.

“I’d rather not talk about it,” Ren shook his head, “Just that I’ve been digging around in the shadows for a very long time, before you kids even showed up.”

The dark undertone of that statement halted any further conversation for the rest of the walk as they all mused to themselves, and they arrived at the dungeon just as the sun began to set. The ragged old man was waiting outside for them. He nodded at their approach, recognizing two faces who had ignored his warnings in the past.

“So you’re finally ready?” He rasped, standing up, aged bones shaking.

Aura looked off towards the sunset, then at the others as she drew a new weapon; a strange-looking gun that looked like a hive, alongside the chakram she’d crafted before. They all exchanged knowing glances and nodded in unison, turning back towards the dungeon and its keeper.

“If I’m ready for anything, it’s for revenge,” Ren growled, the healthy side of his face cracking a half-smirk, “The question should be if your ‘Master’ is ready.” With those words, he reached into his bag and pulled out the largest gun either of his companions had ever seen.

Aura gawked, “...Where did you get that?” It didn’t seem real; too large even for the man who was wielding it. It appeared to be a chaingun of sorts, but without the chain… and more bizarrely, it seemed to be stuffed inside of a shark.

“That gun dealer who’s living at your place had it,” Ren tilted it up for a moment, keeping his eyes firmly on the old man, “Wasn’t cheap, but I wasn’t doing anything else with all the money I’d collected.”

“...Riight,” Axl seemed dubious, but wasn’t about to argue, “Not gonna ask how it was made…” He drew his own enchanted sword, which continued to glint even as the last rays of sun vanished beneath the horizon.

Just as they did, the old man nodded, then stood up straight; straighter than they’d have expected someone of his supposed infirmity to be able to. His eyes glowed blood red and he let out a low, haunting groan as a cloud of red mist formed around him and coalesced high above, towering over the adventurers and dungeon alike as the human it emerged from collapsed in a heap in the brick entryway.

The vapor shifted and solidified into a massive skull, oozing with spectral blood, almost shaped like a human’s if not for its sharp teeth. At its sides were a pair of long, skeletal arms and similarly bony hands, with reach long enough to grab any of the adventurers where they stood, even as high up as the skeletal monstrosity floated.

Indeed, grabbing was the first thing it tried to do, reaching out for the obviously slower Ren, who spun up his gun with a shout as he unleashed an inaccurate but no less impressive round of meteor bullets right into the approaching bones. It didn’t seem to do much damage at first, but the giant spirit shrieked and pulled back all the same, swiping out at the other two with its other hand.

Aura dodged the swipe easily, holding out her arm and sending her new hornet assistants to attack the head directly as she unleashed a torrent of smaller bees from her strange firearm. Though it was merely a skull, the insects swarmed its eyes on some kind of instinct, and despite there being only empty sockets, doing so caused the skull to reel, spinning in an attempt to shake off the buzzing assault.

Axl, meanwhile, twisted out of the way to be merely glanced by the giant hand, using the momentum to spin around and swing the sword. It missed. The blade of energy that flew from it, however, didn’t, striking the hand and cracking some of the bones.

What should have been a harrowing fight was barely a problem fighting together. The large presence could not direct its own attacks at any of its smaller attackers without leaving itself open to relentless onslaught from the other two, and while it managed to deal a few choice hits of its own, it was shortly reduced to little more than shuddering splinters of bone.

“You’re saying this thing killed you instantly before?” Aura put the gun away, giving the returning hornets a light scratch on each of their heads as the rest of her bees dispersed, “Doesn’t seem like it was all that threatening.”

“Well, the old man did say something about this only being possible at night,” Axl shrugged, taking out a potion as he leaned on his sword’s pommel.

Ren put his large, unwieldy gun away, taking off his helmet to wipe his brow, “Element of surprise, too.”

“Yeah, and that.”

As they approached the entrance, Axl held up his hand, “I’ll go down first. If that old man wasn’t lying, I’ll give a holler,” he smiled, “If he was, no point getting us all killed if there’s another big skull guy down there still.”

Ren nodded and stood back as Axl pulled out a torch and headed down into the darkness. After a few moments of listening to the dwindling footsteps, a shout echoed up, “Well, I think we’re good!”

Aura looked over at the large man, “How does he know?”

“Trust me, kid,” Ren sighed, “It’s frustratingly obvious.”

The walls of the dungeon were bare, stripped of anything remotely interesting to the point of seeing where shelving had been pulled from between the bricks, until they reached a very conspicuous bit of corridor, which would have seemed unremarkable if not for the thick coat of spattered blood on those six or so feet of floor, walls, and ceiling. Just beyond that, an eerie blue glow beckoned. Axl stood on the other side.

“You know, looking at it now, I have no idea why anyone would look at this and think, ‘Hey, it’s fine, there’s just blood everywhere right here, what could possibly go wrong?’” Axl let out an awkward ‘heh’, “I’m kind of glad I’m not the only one who fell for it the first time.”

“In my defense,” Ren grumbled, “We examined everything very carefully before proceeding. The bricks here are airtight, there were no pressure plates, or anything indicating traps we’d seen before.” He placed a hand on the blood. It had long since dried. “Thought it was just a scare tactic.”

Aura kneeled to look more closely at the blood and shivered. It brought back unpleasant memories. She coughed softly, scratching at her neck, “Let’s just get this over with.”

The path down was uneven and crumbling, leading to a slow descent. The blue glow came from unnatural candles lining the walls, illuminating skull-shaped pots and books of all sorts. There would be no time to collect or go through them, though, as many as they’d taken before the bloodstained hall. The occasional, faint lantern lit the ceilings, casting eerie shadows at every corner.

Axl pulled off his helmet to press against his temples, eyes squeezed shut tightly for a moment as he took a deep breath, “Ugh, something about this is making me dizzy…” He shook his head, replacing his headgear, “Like there’s something in my head.”

“Yeah, I can feel the haze,” Aura nodded, adjusting her scarf, “The air is thick with something down here. I don’t like it.”

“I feel it, too,” Ren confirmed, grimly. He placed a hand on an eye-shaped engraving, feeling the bricks themselves radiating a certain, chest-tightening anger, “Whatever cursed that old man didn’t stop at the giant skull guarding this place…”

Almost as if cued by the word skull, a full skeleton in tattered red rags burst from around the corner. In spite of the surprise, Ren’s shotgun was out in a very deliberate and decisive instant, blasting the animated bones at point-blank and shattering its skull to tiny splinters. The whole thing clattered to the ground in a heap.

“Whoa, dude, chill,” Axl held up his hands, tone almost standoffish.

Ren glared back at him, “Kid, you’re asking me to-”

“No, not you…” Axl waved, then pointed, “That.”

The disassembled bones on the ground continued to shake, twitching despite not being held together into any particular form with which to move. They weren’t even moving in such a way as to imply an attempt to reassemble, rather like they were trying to continue to attack of their own accord.

“Oh,” Ren put his gun away. His eyes narrowed, though his expression was otherwise strangely unreadable as he knelt down, grabbing one of the bones. The moment it was off the ground, it stopped moving, but he could still feel the agitation in the air surrounding it. Muttering something, he grabbed more of the bones and stuffed them into his bag.

“You sure that’s a good idea?” Aura asked as they began to move again.

“Maybe not,” Ren mumbled, “But anything potentially enchanted is something to look into. Could be useful.”

“Not like there’s any shortage of them,” Aura pulled out a torch of her own, holding it out into the room around the corner, “look.”

The room was a towering cathedral of catacombs, rune-lined recesses in the walls containing countless bones. Menacing iron spikes jut from the walls, while even more skeletons hung from chains between them and from the ceiling, and ancient blood could be seen spattered everywhere, especially around the spikes. In one corner, a faint glimmer of a chest, barely shining through the grime that coated it.

The sight caused even Ren to shudder slightly, but Axl was surprisingly unperturbed as he stepped into the room, walking over to the chest,“That was quick. How luck-” Axl began before frowning. He kneeled down to look more closely, then groaned, rolling his eyes and standing back up, pulling some webbing up with him before kicking the chest in mild frustration. The chains on it rattled, initially obfuscated by the cobwebs and thick dust now shaken off by the kick, “Damn thing’s locked.”

“Well, we’re just going to have to find a key,” Aura’s brow furrowed as she looked around. The room itself branched off into multiple tunnels, snaking off into unknown depths, “Better start marking our path. At least this one’s near the exit, but I do not want to get lost down here.” She huffed, pulling out another torch as she wedged the one in her hand into the rungs of some of the chains on the wall.

They moved into the rightmost passage, each taking turns to mark the walls with their torches to signify their progress. There were lots of catacombs, and the occasional piece of strange furniture crafted in the likeness of the pinkish bricks, and one more large room containing yet another locked chest, much to everyone’s gradually escalating annoyance. A few more exceptionally angry skeletons took offense to the intrusion, but were quickly put down, their quaking remains violently scattered or collected by Ren to keep them from possibly piecing themselves back together.

Axl’s attempts to hum eventually dwindled, giving way to silent trudging and echoing footsteps. Eventually, the group found themselves back in the first room via the central tunnel, resituated themselves, and then took a left.

At the end of that tunnel was a precarious drop into another, large room, with fewer catacombs, but far more spikes than the last. Ren was the first to step to that edge, carefully kneeling and tossing a torch down to get a better look. There was barely any footing in the lower room for the amount of spikes on the floor, just a handful of sturdy shelves, a sliver of brick leading to the exit at the bottom, and a thin walkway around the very perimeter.

“Well, this is great,” Axl sighed as he walked up behind the larger man, wedging his torch in a cracked brick, “What the Hell was this place even being used for?” He cocked his head, crossing his arms and looking down at the spike-laden floor below.

Aura adjusted her scarf before pulling out a length of vine with three ends, each tipped with organic, flytrap-esque clamps, “Whatever it was, it couldn’t have been anything goo-”

She was cut off by Axl raising his hand sharply, “Wait, do you hear th-”

Ren stood up and turned around. The sudden silence allowed them to hear the deep grind of bricks shifting against one another coming to a halt, followed by a soft click. Axl’s eyes went wide and he shouted, “Look out-!” just in time to grab Ren’s shoulder, using nearly all his strength to hurl the large man out of the way. Ren couldn’t shout a retort in time before a massive, spiked morningstar swung down the corridor, striking Axl in the chest, sending him off the edge with a sharp gasp, followed by the shriek of metal piercing metal and a soft, gurgling groan.

“...Idiot,” Ren mumbled, gritting his teeth. Aura gasped and threw her vine hooks out, easily descending to the safe foothold below.

Had he been hit just a little harder, Axl would have cleared the spikes. Instead, if the height of the unaided fall after being hit by such a heavy object hadn’t killed him, being punctured through at least four times by wrought iron - with one spike squarely through the center of his chest - certainly did. Aura cringed. It wasn’t much worse than some of the other deaths she witnessed, but something about seeing the lifeless gape of someone who’d just spared another that fate was incredibly upsetting.

As she heard the sound of Ren’s armored feet touching down on the safe ground beside her, Aura turned to him as he retracted a set of weblike grapple ropes, “Should we… uh… leave?” She eyed the corpse, uncomfortable, “Not far, just not...here. Maybe closer to the entrance, so he finds us easier...”

“No,” Ren grunted, narrowing his eyes, “I need to know something.”

“I just don’t think it’s tasteful to-” Aura began, eyes darting warily.

“No. It’s not tasteful,” Ren interrupted, “And neither is this.” He gestured at the body, “We all keep moving and don’t have to deal with being reminded, but maybe he’ll think twice about throwing himself away if he is reminded.”

Aura shook her head, feeling irritated at the callousness, as she turned to pace around the safe edges of the room. There were fewer books on the shelves, but way more of the skull pots. After two impatient laps and a frustrated groan, Aura reached out and swept an entire shelf of skull-shaped pots off onto the ground, where they shattered in that satisfyingly ceramic way that it’s rarely okay to allow ceramics to.

There was a small, gold key among the shards and various other scattered items contained in them.

“...Huh, will you look at that,” Aura mused, leaning down to pick it up and keeping an eye on the spikes, “I guess we should be breaking more of these.”

“Good to know,” Ren rumbled, having been leaning in the doorway to keep watch for approaching skeletons. “We can look for more once-” The sound of quick metal steps cut into his train of thought, “Nevermind, there he is.”

“Sorry that took so long,” Axl apologized, though sounding a little irate, as he grappled down to the others, “Found anything interesting?”

“Well, the pots have keys in them,” Aura recapped what little had happened while they waited, “We didn’t do much more. We were waiting for you.”

Axl regarded them incredulously, “...Why? You could have made a lot more progress if you didn’t.” He didn’t seem to even notice the body, even as he stood practically over it. “I think we can all agree we shouldn’t be hanging out down here.”

Ren snarled, “Are you serious?”

“Serious?” Axl grunted, “What are you talking about?” Aura drew Axl’s attention with very deliberate eye-contact, then gestured with her head and eyes down at the corpse without saying anything. She cleared her throat.

Axl looked down at it for a moment, expression indifferent, before looking back up, “...Yeah? So?”

“...Does seeing your own dead body not bother you?” Ren growled, clearly displeased that his intention was so easily brushed aside, “Do you not feel like this is probably something you shouldn’t be letting happen so casually?”

There was a pause, which would have seemed pensive and thoughtful, but without warning to either, Axl began to laugh. It was a soft snort at first, but quickly climbed to a nearly teary roar. He shook his head, looking down at his lifeless body, then back at the others, who stared at him, wide eyed. He took his glasses off to wipe his eyes, “Ooh… ooooh man.”

“What’s so funny?”

Axl continued to chuckle, “Funny? So, so much. Oh man, I didn’t-” he paused to snort again, “I mean, who cares, right? There’s probably just more slime down here to strip these bodies to the bone, just like everywhere else. Why should I care if it’s lying around here, of all places? At least I don’t have to dispose of it myself!”

“That’s not the point,” Ren stepped forward and shoved Axl in the shoulder, harshly, “How can you be so-” suddenly Axl’s words hit him, “...Wait… dispose of it yourself?”

“Look,” Axl shot back, his facade of cheeriness tinged with a touch of ire, “This whole world is a fate worse than death. Death is the easy part here. What comes before, and possibly after, is so much worse,” He raised a hand, slowly, then pushed Ren away, “If we’re afraid of death, then what hope have we when the inevitable worse rolls around?” Axl straightened, taking a single, heavy step forward, “I’m not afraid of death. I made sure of it!”

Ren’s diseased cheek twitched, “You-?”

“You want to see something funny?”Axl arched his eyebrows, taking out his sword, “Here’s something funny.” Axl’s tone went flat as he turned his sword over, raised it above his head, and brought it down on his own corpse’s neck with a wet crunch. Aura, who’d been trying to ignore the conversation, couldn’t help but yelp and bring her hands up to her mouth when she saw that out of the corner of her eye.

Ren’s eyes went wide, expression twisting into appalled surprise, “What the Hell are you doing?!”

“Immediately after being eaten by that wall of flesh, before I really thought about what I’d seen in there, all I could think about was how I didn’t think I could handle what else this world could throw at me,” Axl chuckled, darkly, as he leaned down and picked up the severed head, “I just about gave up. It seemed like everyone else did.” He pulled off the helmet, so that the face beneath was clearly visible, even in the low light.

“But sitting around doing nothing helps nobody, so I decided to make make that time… productive,” he took his sword in hand again and lifted it, bringing it down once more, this time on the corpse’s shoulder, the sides of his mouth pulling into a very insincere smile, “So I killed myself.” He stabbed again, “Over,” and again, “And over. And OVER. Until I no longer hesitated.” Leaving the sword there, he took the head in both hands, facing the others. Its lifeless expression contrasted so jarringly to the madcap smile above it. “Suffice to say, this is nothing. I got pretty used to seeing my own dead bodies lying around.”

Even Ren looked a little sick at both the sight and the story, taking a step back, hand reaching down to his gear pack, “Th-the Hell-?”

“So you think this isn’t the way someone should feel about dying,” Axl smirked, “You don’t like that I’m tougher than you when it comes to this. Fine. I get. The point,” to emphasize his last word, he leaned down again, thrusting the severed head onto one of the floor spikes, “Frequently.” He punched it down as he spat the word, then narrowed his eyes, still grinning, “I’ve stopped caring.”

Aura had taken to pacing around near the walls, trying her hardest not to watch this scene unfold, and it was almost like she’d disappeared as the sparks continued to crackle. She just muttered indistinctly to herself, occasionally clearing her throat loudly, trying to drown out their argument as she shook her head.

“Oh, and you can bet I made it hurt,” Axl continued, eyes now wide and manic to match his smile, “As much as I could manage.” He took a step forward, posture hunching slightly, gait threatening, “There’d be no point otherwise.” He spat the word again, trying a little too hard to overuse the pun.

“Enough!” Ren roared, grabbing Axl by the collar of his armor and lifting him up almost effortlessly despite the weight of the metal, giving him a shake, “So it’s not just a product of you being as dense as you are? You’re just some kind of sick freak?” He slammed the smaller man’s feet on the ground, nearly on the spikes, “You talk big, but I won’t believe a boast like that with no scars to prove it.”

“Oh, but dying doesn’t leave scars. I count that as a blessing!” Axl hissed, grabbing Ren’s hand and dislodging it from his armor roughly, “That dying just… resets us to the last time we slept… like waking up from some horrible dream... but oh, not dying, there’s a real kicker,” he pointed upwards to nothing in particular for emphasis, “Get a nasty scar from surviving and getting patched up, then sleeping on it, and now there’s a permanent mark.” He shrugged melodramatically, shaking his head, “Honestly, it makes me pretty happy I’ve died all these times, considering what I’ve gone through. There’d be nothing of me left! But it’s not like you’d know anything about that, since you’re just so awesome. Oh, wait,” he jabbed a finger at the disfigured half of Ren’s face with a viciously sarcastic smile, “I suppose you do.”

“Why you-!”

Aura growled quietly. She wanted to break them up with a swift punch or other outburst so badly, but the sudden mention of scars drew her inward. Her hand trailed to the scarf around her neck, reaching under it. She was always careful enough to avoid such nasty injuries that’d leave her with such grave marks, but not that one time. Not when they’d found that strange, overgrown temple in the jungle, covered in intricate engravings. They’d gone to investigate… only to be ambushed by a large, imposing, lizardlike being. It just about tore Aura’s throat out, leaving her to die sputtering in a pool of her own blood before lifting Axl up and slamming him into a pressure plate he’d sidestepped. Aura didn’t get to see what the trap did before she got her mirror, only that it was undoubtedly fatal as Axl was back at the manor shortly after she was, in perfect condition and apologizing profusely as she had her neck tended to.

The nurse was able to save Aura’s voice, but that scar stayed as a constant, vaguely sore reminder. It gave her a slight understanding for Axl’s decisions. She almost wished she’d died there, herself.

But not as much as she wanted to kill these two bickering idiots now.

“SHUT UP!” she hollered, whirling and blindly flinging her stinger-laden chakram in their direction. It barely missed both, and Ren had to dodge it as it hit a wall and returned to her hand. The outburst was enough to stop both men in surprise, leaving their fight and her shout to echo down the corridors, “I swear to Horus, you’re not yourselves!” She snarled, ferally, “Get whatever the Hell it is you want done here quickly because whatever’s down here is wrong.” The bee-clad adventurer pulled out her own sword - a thin rapier shaped like a barbed stinger, and pointed it at her companions as her hornets buzzed loudly and threateningly, “Or gods help me I will kill you both to get you out of here before using my own mirror.”

The return of aggression seemed to cause a spark all its own, like a circuit completing, as everyone suddenly snapped out of it in that moment, realizing they’d all drawn weapons on one another; even Axl and Ren, with sword and shotgun respectively. They blinked, nearly in unison, then backed up, gasping.

None of them saw the faint outlines of skulls quickly vanishing into the walls.

“O-oh… Oh god,” Axl dropped his sword, holding his head, realization dawning, “What was..? Was that..?” His eyes fell on his corpse and severed head, now mangled. That didn’t bother him… looking back up at the others, however, left him mortified, “O-oh god..”

Aura pushed past them both into the hallway past the door, putting as much distance as she could between herself and having to look at the now extra-mutilated body.

“Nice job, kid,” Ren chided, tone grim yet smug, “Or should I just call you freak from now?” He smirked, glaring with his mutated eye for ironic emphasis as he shouldered past to follow after Aura, leaving Axl there in shock.

Ren caught up to her as she kept walking down the curving tunnel, not intending to stop her, “Not just going to leave?”

Aura shook her head, “We got one key…” She held up the item in question, “We should at least use it before getting out of here… or this would have all just been a huge waste of time.” Ren smirked.

“Heh, finally some sense.”

The tunnel looped around to the second room they’d found, the one containing a chest, which Aura quickly opened, hoping to get this whole ordeal over with. The longer they stayed, the heavier the weight she was feeling on her mind, and every negative thought she had. She narrowed her eyes at the chest contents, reaching in and pulling out the strangest thing yet in how out of place it felt; a very normal, modern-looking handgun. She turned to Ren, very gingerly making sure not to point it to him, “I suppose you’d be interested in this.”

“...Yes,” his eyes lit up as he reached over to take it, “Ohh, yes, this’ll do nicely.” Aura backed up a bit, certain that she didn’t care for that tone as he examined it, mumbling something about infusion and something called hellstone. It didn’t really register, her mind had wandered, as she looked at the door leading back to the entrance.

Ren noticed her drifting attention, “You’re not actually worried about that freak, are you?” he pulled back the slide with a hearty k-chack, still looking pleased, “If he didn’t mirror home he’s probably gone and impaled himself on something.” He aimed down the sights with his good eye and pulled the trigger, the gunshot sounding off the walls so loudly that the shattering of the pot he’d aimed at was lost in the din.

“...I don’t care,” she muttered after wincing at the noise, reaching for her sword as she headed to the door, “I just need to know.”

Ren shrugged, “Suit yourself.” He reached for his scroll, unloading the magazine that the gun came with and replacing it with what appeared to be one of the scroll’s slots, pulled right from the silvery surface and turning into an appropriately-sized cartridge. As Aura left, she heard a few more gunshots as the large man tested the new ammo. She disregarded any qualms about splitting up; he’d be fine by himself.

Not wanting to go deeper into the madness-inducing depths, she decided to first check the way back, following their torches, her sword and hornets taking out any straggling skeletons. Many of the pots along the way had been smashed. To her relief, she found Axl back in the very first catacomb room, sitting in a corner, surrounded by twitching bone shards. The chest in the other corner was conspicuously open. He looked up and winced, “...Sorry.”

Aura felt a great difficulty in bringing herself to look at him, but still had to ask, “Was what you said…” she stepped closer, forcing herself to look him in the eye, “Was all of that true?”

Axl frowned deeply, “N-no, I don’t… I didn’t want to...” he inhaled sharply, then let out a long sigh, “...It’s true… I… I really… didn’t want anyone to find out… It’s… it’s embarrassing…” he took another deep breath, “Not something to be proud of...” He clenched his teeth, looking up at the ceiling, clearly trying to fight the stifling atmosphere, “Ughhh, this is like some kind of Swamp of Sadness crap…” He whined, “Like… Asylum of Anger… Ruins of Rage,” He closed his eyes, “Prison of-”

“Gods, just shut up,” Aura interrupted, trying to return to their more typical style of banter. Axl tried to laugh. He paused, then leaned forward.

“Anyway… I found this.”

He stood up, slowly, and reached into his bag to extract a truly remarkable sword. After all the blades they’d seen, it was unusual to see one styled like a katana, albeit forged from a glowing blue metal, with a strangely uniform, wave-shaped hamon.

Axl forced a weak smile, “Pretty sweet, huh?”

Aura put her hand over her mouth, trying not to smirk, “Oh gods, the world has bestowed the weeb king with king of weeb weapons.”

“Say what you want,” Axl flipped the blade around, then gave it an effortless spin, “It’s really amazing. I don’t think it’s quite as strong as my other one, but it’s so beautifully made… I feel like I could swing it forever and never get tired.”

Ren arrived in the room shortly afterwards, and he was surprised to see not only Axl, but the sword Axl was holding. He gasped.

Axl continued, “I almost want to name it. Something legendary… Like…” he tried to remember, “...Like Masamune. Or… what was it… Mu-”

“Muramasa-” Ren finished, voice carrying a hint of reverence.

“Yes, that one,” Axl paused, trying to think back to his nerd cred, “Wait...weren’t those supposed to be ev-”

He wasn’t allowed to finish. Before he could perceive Aura’s shout of “Ren, what are you-” he found himself being lifted off the ground, with the large man grabbing him by the neck in one hand, right wrist in the other. By the time it registered, Ren had already spun around and planted him roughly against a wall. A wall lined with more spikes.

“Oh, don’t take it personally,” Ren smiled, wrenching the sword from his victim’s grasp, using the tip of it to lift Axl’s chin so that he could look him in the eye, “After all, I thought you didn’t care about points.”

He laughed at the indignant sputtering he got in response. Before Aura could stop him, Ren pulled a mirror from his pack - an unusually ornate one that looked like it was made of ice - and vanished in a flash of blue light.

#the wall of text has awoken #long post #fell story #this chapter is... ...i suppose illuminating is a misdirecting word #but appropriate

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izzy-b-hands · 4 years

Text

Fade In The Dark, Burn As Bright-Chapter One

Written for my DL server Bingo Card prompt: Post-Apocalyptic Horror.

Honestly? Didn’t think I’d be able to complete this one. But I got stuck on a different prompt, and now here we are. Didn’t intend for this to be multi-chapter, but that also just sort of happened if I’m honest. And yes, the title are from lyrics by MCR lol. It fits the fic, and I’m still a goth/emo kid at heart, I guess.

Set somewhere in 1978, in (obviously lol) an AU where the world has ended.

How and why that happened, as well as the how and why they survived it, aren’t so simply discovered.

But what else is there to do after the apocalypse, except look for answers?

My love to all who read/like/reblog.

“You know what I hate most about the end of the world?” Roger shouted, his voice echoing in the street, empty except for them. “Too bloody quiet. Never thought I’d miss the noise. But I do! What a fucking joke.”

“Please be quiet,” Brian sighed and turned back to look to Roger. “We don’t know who else is here.”

“No one!” Roger shouted again, gesticulating towards the broken and buckled buildings, their fallen bricks strewn in the street. “No one is here, because everyone else is dead!”

“We don’t know that,” Freddie turned his head back towards them. “We need to be careful.”

Roger kicked at a brick, and winced as he made light, but thankfully not full, contact with it. “The world ended, and there’s still rules to follow.”

“Not rules, just...considerations,” Freddie said. “We don’t even know what happened for sure.”

“I think it must have been a nuclear bomb,” Brian said. “Look at everything, what else could it have been?”

“How did we survive it then?” Roger asked.

“Got lucky?” Brian shrugged, skipping around a pile of bricks as they walked on down the street. “Or rather, unlucky. We might be dead within the next few days, or weeks, if I’m right. Depending on where it fell, would say as to how fucked we are.”

“Well, that’s lovely,” Roger scoffed. “Here I was thinking just a regular bomb. What about you two? Any ideas?”

Freddie shook his head. “I don’t want to think about it right now.”

“We can’t just go on not knowing,” Roger said, then frowned at the pained look on Freddie’s face. “Though, it could wait until we’re somewhere settled and safe.”

“Aliens,” John said.

“Deaky,” Brian sighed, exasperated. “Even if that was the case, what reason do you have for thinking we’d be destroyed by them right away?”

He shrugged. “Boredom? A need and will to blow shit up?”

“Speaking of,” Brian said, and swallowed hard.

They had reached his home first, the one he shared with Chrissie.

It was in pieces, and there was no one outside of it.

“We can search with you,” Freddie tried, but Brian shook his head and strode towards the rubble on his own.

“He’ll need our help,” Roger whispered to Freddie. “Whether they’re alive or not...”

“I know,” Freddie said. “Give him a moment.”

Brian moved bricks as quickly as he could, but it was a fruitless search.

“No bodies,” he said shortly as he returned to them. “Not that I could see anyway.”

“Maybe they weren’t home,” Freddie murmured, and rubbed at Brian’s back. “Or they got out, and are like us, looking for others.”

Brian shook his head, and it was evident he was fighting back tears.

“I’m fine if we don’t head to mine,” Roger said. “Can’t imagine it looks much different.”

“But your mum,” Freddie started, then paused. “She’s fine. Probably out looking, like Chrissie and James.”

Roger nodded sharply, and they continued on.

“Do you want to check on your parents, Fred?” John asked. “Equal distance to mine or theirs...”

“Yours first,” Freddie replied. “I’m sure they’re fine too. They’ll be glad to see me, but they’ll laugh if they know I worried about them.”

The streets passed, empty and silent, aside from moments where bits of broken walls crumbled, and they passed the occasional fire, the sound of it whipping on the wind shiver-inducing.

John’s home was at least still mostly standing, but the door fell in as John went to open it.

He was in for only a few moments, before returning to them on the street.

“Wish I’d been home,” he muttered. “No offense to all of you, of course-”

“I’m so sorry,” Freddie said, and wrapped John in a hug, but John shook his head.

“No, they aren’t there,” he said. “I mean, they could still be-”

His lip quivered exactly once, and he ran a hand down his face, streaking dirt over it. “But maybe they’re okay. Out there, somewhere.”

They were all a mess, even before they had left the lot where the studio had once stood. It had a few walls left, but most had been destroyed, and it was seemingly a miracle that they hadn’t been crushed under any of them.

It left them covered in dirt and streaks of who knew what else, and there didn’t look to be the opportunity for a shower or bath any time soon.

“Getting cold,” Freddie remarked, shivering as they kept on. “Should see if there’s anything left at my parents’ that we could borrow.”

“Maybe their house is standing enough we can stop for the night,” Roger said, rubbing at his arms. “Has to be warmer in there, even if the heating isn’t working.”

“It’s only September, it won’t get much colder,” Brian said. “If we must stay out here all night, I mean. It’s manageable.”

The house was standing, but it creaked and moaned as they walked inside with Freddie, at his insistence.

“No one,” Freddie sighed as he met them in the sitting room, after searching as much of the house as he dared. “But there’s suitcases gone.”

“That’s good,” Brian said, relief in his voice. “We might run into them if we keep going.”

“Unless they went the way we just came from,” John mused. “But we might have seen them already then, and we didn’t...”

They all stood, feet shuffling.

“Think it’s sturdy enough to stay in?” Roger asked, looking to the walls of the house. There were some cracks, but they were upright at least.

“Maybe if we stay in here,” Freddie said. “That way, should anything come crashing down, we can run out.”

“Could take turns standing watch,” Brian added. “For crumbling walls, or anything else.”

“We haven’t seen or heard from anyone else,” John said. “Nothing is going to come in and get us.”

But even he looked nervously to the front door, as it swung when the wind came up, and he helped to move the couch from the sitting room to barricade it.

---

He volunteered for the first watch shift only because he couldn’t sleep. The idea of even trying to sleep was abhorrent. He didn’t know where his parents and sister were, alive or dead, and the thought that they could be nearby, maybe hoping he would happen by and be able to help them...

The tears stung, with the dirt and muck still on his face and around his eyes, and wiping them away only made it worse.

But he didn’t want to wake the other three, though they seemed pretty dead asleep. Brian, Roger, and John, all in a little pile too, draped right by each other on the floor of the sitting room, for warmth.

And because they were scared, but no one wanted to say that bit out loud. Not yet, at least. Holding off on saying it meant the world might somehow turn back towards ‘normal’, to safety.

It was a falsehood, but it was hard to let it go when there was nothing else to hang onto but each other.

They hadn’t even touched on the other important issues: food, water, washing up. There was some food left in the cupboards here, but they needed to find ways to carry it and keep it safe while they traveled. It would only last so long too.

Water was worse; what working taps could be found gave off water that didn’t seem bad, but there was no guarantee of how safe it was to drink or use for anything else.

All he wanted was a warm, decent meal; clean, cold water; and a nice bath. If he couldn’t know that everyone he and his friends cared for were safe, he at least wanted those basic comforts.

Instead, he stood and paced through the house more, looking for anything they could use to carry food and supplies, and for anything that he could take from the house.

Not anything big. Just a few things that he could carry with, and make sure to return to each of his family members once he found them again, somewhere along the road.

Because he would. Surely, he would.

---

“Hour went fast,” Roger mumbled as Freddie woke him for his turn at watch.

But he switched spots with Freddie quickly, and settled for staring down the door.

“I know there’s no one else out there,” he whispered. “We’d have seen someone by now. We would have, I’m sure of it.”

He wasn’t as sure as he wanted to be though, and that was the worry wringing out his brain. What if there were people, half-alive, stuck in the rubble of the homes they’d passed?

Reasonably, he knew they couldn’t have stopped to check every house. Even if they’d done that, there was no way they could have helped anyone, with no supplies themselves.

It was haunting though. People, alone in their houses, dying. Hearing them walk outside, too weak to call out for help that they couldn’t have provided anyway.

They were a rock band. If they had to die early, they were supposed to go out in a blaze of glory. They weren’t supposed to be the ones left behind, in whatever this was.

He wanted his mum. It was childish, and he didn’t care. But he wanted her desperately, to sit by him and pat his hand and reassure him that even if there were survivors out there, they were alright without him trying to stumble to provide them care. That he wasn’t terrible for wishing that all the nameless others would just be peacefully dead, rather than in pain and scared and alone.

The door rattled, and he shook his head. “Only the wind.”

It rattled on and off for the rest of his hour, and any fears he had of falling asleep while on watch disappeared.

---

John rubbed at his eyes and yawned as Roger woke him for his turn. He rifled through the house as Roger settled in by the other lads.

Not to be nosy, but because it was comforting. Amongst all the rubble and destruction, here was some normalcy. The warm colors of the decor, familiar from dinners they’d spent with Freddie and his family. Knick-knacks that he’d asked Freddie’s mum about at least a dozen times before, but that he would love to hear about again.

So long as she was okay. And Freddie’s dad, and sister.

Eventually, he knew he would need to face what he was struggling to now. That Ronnie, Robert, and Michael might not be okay. More than not okay...dead. Maybe under another pile of refuse they’d passed, or laying on the side of a road they had yet to go down. If they were still alive, how was Veronica managing? Two little ones, all on her own...to do that in normal times was one thing, but post-apparent-apocalypse? That was another. Had there been enough food and supplies to gather? Was she struggling to transport them? How scared must they be, and what could she say to calm children so young?

Worse yet was the admittedly more selfish weight: that if they were dead, he was technically no longer a husband and father. It wasn’t as if that was all he was, of course, but he loved those roles dearly. He liked being married, liked having little ones underfoot and smiling whenever he came home. It was just as, if not more, important than his being a bassist, or his being anything else, for that matter.

“Lord, if you’ve got them,” he managed to whisper, once he peeked into the sitting room to ensure everyone else was deeply asleep. “Tell them I love them. And I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect them. I’d trade myself for them right now, if I could.”

For the rest of his hour, he tried to keep from crying too loud. He didn’t hate the idea of crying in front of the guys, but they were all stressed and scared, and he didn’t want to add to it with this.

---

“You alright?” Brian mumbled sleepily as John shook his shoulder. He was sniffling, and his eyes looked red, but he didn’t reply as he took Brian’s spot on the floor.

Brian shrugged, and scooted to a point of the floor where he could see the front door. It made him nervous, if only because it couldn’t be locked. Granted, he knew very well that if someone really wanted in, they would find a way in.

But they didn’t need anything else to go wrong. Not right now.

He let himself stand and peer out one of the windows in the kitchen, trying to see as much of the night sky as he could. In part because it would comfort him, but also because he wanted to see if there were any signs.

Mind, he wasn’t sure exactly what he was looking for, aside from anything odd or out of the usual. Anything that might tell him what exactly had happened, might give him a clue on what side effects they should prepare to deal with, if any.

“That’s asking too much of you, isn’t it?” he murmured to the sky as he looked up to it. “But you’ve held answers before. Be great if you could give me some right now.”

The sky, ever silent, remained so.

He made his way back to the sitting room, and tried to rest. He might not be able to sleep, but he could at least let his muscles relax. Who knew how long they might be walking tomorrow, or if they would find any shelter.

The door rattled loudly, and he looked to it.

The wind. Nothing more.

It shook, and he stood.

A storm, perhaps.

The couch in front of it was rocked as someone pushed at the door, and he shook everyone else awake.

“We have to go!”

They went out of the back door that led to the garden.

Freddie handed out bags as they moved, and they swiped whatever they could grab from the kitchen as they ran out. There was no time to grab anything that could hold water, or to take anything else aside from the few knick-knacks John shoved in his bag, handing a couple more to Freddie as he grabbed them off of their shelves and tables of display.

Had it been a different time, a different day, a different situation, they probably would have looked back.

But they didn’t, and they would never know who it was that had forced their way into the house.

---

“Can we talk, at least?” Roger asked as they walked. The sun was high above them, and their bags of various food and scavenged supplies rustled as they walked.

They had not stopped for more than a moment since fleeing Freddie’s parents’ house the night before.

“I can’t stand how quiet it is,” Roger continued. “There should be sound. But there isn’t. They’re all dead, and we’re it, for sound. Just us, ha! Let’s see someone write a bad review about us now.”

His words were joking, but his voice shook, and tears rained down his face.

“It’s okay,” Freddie soothed, and let Brian take the lead spot as he moved back to walk by Roger, an arm wrapping around him to pull him as close as possible. “When we find others, there’ll be plenty of noise. We’ll be sick of it in a day, I bet!”

“What if we don’t find anyone?” Roger whispered. “We should have found someone by now. Or bodies, at least.”

“I don’t know,” Freddie admitted. “I...”

He sighed. “I want to think we’ll find someone, at some point. Even if it is just bodies. But we’ll find someone, something. Proof of what happened, so we can figure out what to do next, how to find our families. Then it’ll be loud; all of us and our families together. They’ll hear us before they see us, wherever we go.”

He could tell it wasn’t doing much for Roger, but at least talking, noise, seemed to calm him, and to make the tears stop. He didn’t want to babble, so he hummed instead, any tune that came into his head, as he kept Roger close.

“We need to find water again,” Brian muttered. “And we should stop and eat.”

“How are we going to prepare anything?” John asked. “Use the nearest car on fire as a stove top?”

“Not a bad idea,” Brian replied. “Plenty of those about. But no damned water...”

He didn’t even know what direction to take them in. He knew Freddie hadn’t known either, and was guessing as much as he was, in regards to where to walk next.

But the terror of having that responsibility in front of him warped the view of the street, made him want to stop and sit and stay put until someone else found them, who might know the right way to go.

“Keep going,” John murmured. Behind them, Freddie was helping Roger along still. “If we stop now, we won’t get started again. You’re doing fine. Just keep walking.”

He focused on the sound of their footsteps behind him, and less on the direction forward. It was all likely the same anyway.

---

By the time the sun had gone down, they were nearly to the countryside, and the city felt wrung dry.

No more supplies to be had. No more food, or containers for water. The multiple bags and containers they’d accumulated provided a symphony of background noise as they walked.

But no corpses. Not even in the houses they’d checked.

No family, either, for any of them. If they were alive, and out there...they were who knew where by now.

Brian stopped now, and turned to them. “Well?”

“Well, what?” John asked.

“Do we leave the city?” Brian continued. “I mean...there’s no one here that we can find. But where do we go if we leave, and why?”

“We go forward,” Freddie replied softly. “Because we can.”

Roger had settled noticeably as they’d continued forth, and he nodded in agreement. “Because what else are we going to do?”

“Because maybe our families escaped the city before we even knew anything was wrong,” John added. “We can’t know for sure. But we can’t know anything for sure right now. May as well try something and just...do it.”

“We need to sleep though,” Brian said.

“True,” Freddie said. “I have a feeling we can rest right here, if we want. I don’t think we’ll be bothered.”

“How do you know that?” Brian asked, though he followed suit and sat by Freddie on the sidewalk.

“I don’t,” he said. “Not for certain. But I sense it. We’ll be okay, for tonight.”

The burned out car in front of them was shelter enough, even if there was no way to open up the doors and actually rest inside it, and the many blankets they had gathered as they’d traveled became a makeshift bed on the ground.

True to Freddie’s word, no one bothered them as they snuggled together and slept, packs and bags close enough to grab if they should have to run.

But they didn’t hear the footsteps that went by, and paid them no mind.

#text post #LeeH writes #queen band fic

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