this is it, the apocalypse

Hey! I'm Randall Ryan, a sixth year prefect and seeker for Gryffindor. I'm dead, so, if you want to hang out with my ghostly self, that's cool.

[bomin]

[dylinobrn]

[randallryan-blog]

Can't Sleep, Can't Breathe || Randall

He couldn't quite pinpoint where it started, or even what it was, just yet.  All Randall knew was that he'd closed his eyes in the room Rhys had given him in the cabin, with Holden curled up against his side, and suddenly he was standing in a dimly lit hallway.  Doors lined the walls, each one different from the rest of them; there were old-looking wooden doors with brass handles and hinges, freshly painted ones with silver doorknobs, even ones that reminded the Gryffindor of some sort of science-fiction movie.  Thick carpet covered the floor, muffling the sound of the boy's footsteps as he walked slowly down the hallway, looking at the doors as he passed by them.  He bit his lip, counting each door he walked by: 10, 20... he lost count after 40.  Yet the hallway stretched on, no two doors the same, without a bend or turn in sight.  

The first thing he heard was a quiet sobbing.  He turned to look at the place he'd entered, only to recognize it as his bedroom at home.  Curled on the bed was a young boy, head buried in his hands as his shoulders shook.  Randall frowned, something nagging him about this scene - something familiar.  Then he heard the faint voices.  

"I'm telling you!  The teacher called today, telling some cockamamie story about how Randall broke a desk from across the room; took all the nuts and bolts out of it and let it collapse!  We need to get him some help, James, honestly."  That was his mother's voice, and suddenly he remembered what this was.  

"Alexandra, we can't just ship him off to your sister.  Look, we'll talk later.  I have a late shift at the station tonight; we can talk when I get back."

Randall stumbled out of the room before the scene could progress any further.  He didn't want to hear the rest of it, didn't want to see his mother come into his room and explain that he might be going away for a couple weeks to figure out what was going on.  

"Try another one," another voice told him.  He turned slowly, unwilling to figure out who was tormenting him now.  Randall's knees went weak at the sight of Zagan, dressed immaculately save for the bloody knife still lodged in his chest.  The Gryffindor shook his head, but the Slytherin just shrugged almost imperceptibly.  "Then you won't get out of here.  You'll be stuck here until you keep trying."  The older, taller boy pulled the knife from his chest and advanced on the terrified sixth year, who whirled and scrabbled for the next door.

This time it was screaming that greeted him, a horrifically familiar screaming.  He was back in that empty corridor in the castle, this time forced to watch as Calithra stood over him.  He watched as the other Randall screamed and writhed and jerked about on the floor.  And as he watched, he could feel the familiar muscle ache and sore throat make a reappearance.  Then the screaming fell silent, and he listened as the other him forced out a few words.

"Not telling you anything..."

"Crucio!"

Suddenly pain struck Randall, and even though it was a mere fraction of what Calithra was putting him through in front of him, it still forced him to double over and gasp for air.  He reached behind him for the doorknob, twisting it open and falling through the door to get away from the pain and the scene being replayed.  

"Isn't that pathetic?" yet another voice asked.  Randall closed his eyes, feeling a few tears leak out from under his eyelids at the fading pain, before sucking in a deep breath and opening them again.  Standing in front of him was... Randall.  The other Randall was dressed the exact same way - a simple grey tshirt and jeans - but he was different.  For a moment, Randall couldn't tell what set them apart, until he met the other Gryffindor's eyes and noticed they were fully black, irises, even through to the whites.  The other boy smirked then, tilting his chin up in a quick nod.  "I've heard that door's the way out," he commented, and even his voice was different.  He drawled, speaking as if he had all the time in the world and everyone falling over themselves to do his bidding.  Randall opened his mouth, intending to ask who this boy was, but once again he didn't have a voice.  The other boy just shook his head, smirking as he stepped closer to Randall.  "You know who I am.  But if you don't get your ass in the next door, I swear I will take you apart piece by piece and laugh at your screams."  Randall swallowed and ran for the next door, inexplicably terrified of this part of himself.

This room was different.  It was still a memory, but instead of being forced to watch the scene play itself out, this time he was part of it.  And it was the worst memory he'd ever had.  

"Now, Mr. Ryan - I'm just going to call you Randall from here on out..."  He was back in the Ministry, metal restraints holding him in the chair across from the man he could only refer to as his torturer.  Randall shook his head, already feeling his heart start racing and tears start pouring down his cheeks.  "No..." he whispered, his voice trailing off into a low moan of terror as the man began carving into his arms again and again and again, the word quickly turning into the only thing he could say.  When the torture progressed, however, he could only scream for help as he yanked at his restraints again.  And it didn't stop where it had the first time.  No, it kept going, bouncing back and forth between the cuts in his arms to the agony of being crucioed, and he could feel his mind start to break down and fracture.

And then it was over.

His eyes snapped open on a gasp, cheeks wet with tears as his chest heaved underneath the bandages still wrapped around him.  A quiet sob slipped from his lips, before he choked it back; Holden was still sleeping against his side, and he didn't want to wake the other boy.  Holden had had enough to worry about when it came to Randall recently.  He deserved his sleep.  

Randall, on the other hand, found himself staying awake until the sun rose, finally falling asleep from pure exhaustion, head tucked against his boyfriends as the tears dried on his cheeks.

[dylinobrn]

[randallryan-blog]

Can't Take The Sky From Me || Holdall

[holdenanders-deactivated2014092]

Holden didn’t know all the nuances of this, he just knew that his boyfriend’s body made his own body come alive. He felt flushed and half broken by nothing but the roughness of his hands and lips on his body. They’d talked about this day once, but not in depth, and Holden didn’t want to screw it up. He also didn’t think he could wait any longer. Not after the day they’d had. Not after saving his one love from the torture he’d heard in that mirror. He kissed the boy back, nipping at his lips as he did so and letting the words etch themselves in his brain. He thanked Merlin he knew a few spells for this sort of thing and that was only through hearing other people joke about them. “Wand,” he croaked, as he went for his, stumbling to grab it from the bedside table. Then he was back, kissing his boyfriend again. He let his fingers find his boyfriend’s cock again with one hand before doing an incantation to leave his fingers slick and coated in lubricant. He toyed with his bulge a bit more before finding his way downward. He watched Randall to make sure it was okay as his slick fingers ran along his ass, unsure but needing this.

[randallryan-blog]

Randall smiled into the kiss, hands finding their way back to the other boy's hips.  When Holden pulled away, the Gryffindor licked his lips and let his head fall back against the pillow, watching his boyfriend intently.  "Y-yeah," he stuttered at the boy's mention of a wand, starting to sit up to grab his own from where it rested next to Holden's.  His boyfriend beat him to it, though, kissing Randall again.  The sixth year let a hand stroke through his boyfriend's hair as they kissed, swiping his tongue across Holden's lower lip.  But, no matter how much he wanted to stay like this, a hand threaded through Holden's hair, holding him close as they kissed, Randall had to pull away as the other boy began stroking his cock again.  He missed the incantation, rolling his hips up into the other boy's grip, moaning in appreciation at the sudden slickness coating the boy's fingers.  He bit his lip when Holden glanced at him, shifting his legs to give his boyfriend easier access to what they both knew they needed after the intense day they'd had.  "Fuck, Holden, please," he begged, using the voice reserved only for Holden and moments like this at the same time he rolled his hips again.

[thevaguebliss]

[harrypotterhousequotes]

[supernatural-tcd-teenwolf-deact]

[visneliyogurt]

[lmaorvnee]

[lmaorvnee]

[rippersexy-deactivated20140327]

[randallryan-blog]

Breathe Again || Holdall

Randall was in the Hufflepuff dorms now, sitting on Holden's bed with the curtains closed, surrounded by his boyfriend's pets.  It was daytime in the room outside, he could tell by the light filtering in through the thin fabric draped around him, but the room was eerily silent.  Fezzik nudged at his hand with a sharp yip, looking up at him with huge eyes as if he was trying to say something to the sixth year.  All Randall could do, however, was frown in confusion; he'd been on the floor of the hallway just a second ago, clutching at Holden as the wounds on his chest overtook him.  He glanced down at his chest, eyebrows furrowed, only to let out a yell when he saw that his chest was still mangled and bloody, shirt and pants soaked with blood.  The Gryffindor fell out of the bed, arms tangling in the edges of the curtains, only to look up and see Norwood standing over him with a cold smile, wand pointed at his face... 

Randall's eyes snapped open, a scared noise falling from his lips as he gasped for air.  There was an odd pressure on his chest - he could feel it as he tried to catch his breath - but he didn't pay that any attention for the time being.  Instead, the boy chose to try and figure out where he was, since the ceiling over him was most certainly not the same ceiling he'd fainted underneath.  His eyes flickered around, trying to gather as much detail as possible since he wasn't sure if he wanted to try and sit up just yet.  The ceiling was wooden, built much more roughly than anything he'd ever seen in the castle or on the grounds, and it hit him that he might not be at the castle anymore.  

Finally catching his breath, Randall sucked in enough air to try and push himself up, arms shaking as he did so.  His head fell forward, mouth falling open in a gasp at the sight of bandages wrapping around his chest and up over his shoulders.  That's when his strength gave out, and he fell back against the pillows his head had been resting on in his sleep.  So he'd survived Amelia's attack, though it looked like he'd have even more scars to add to the amount he'd gained over the past few days.  

That's when a soft noise caught his attention, and he turned his head to figure out where it'd come from.  He couldn't help but smile at the sight of Holden sleeping in a chair next to his bed, mouth hanging open like always. Almost automatically, Randall scanned his boyfriend, hoping he hadn't been injured while the Gryffindor had been incapacitated.  He stopped looking, though, when he saw a plate of french toast on the boy's lap, tilted slightly as if it had slid while the boy was sleeping.  Summoning up another burst of energy, Randall reached out and brushed his hand against Holden's knee, still smiling softly.  "Holden?" he whispered, voice rough and hoarse, but still there.  "Babe?"  Sure, he was still in pain, but he was already feeling better knowing Holden was alright.

[imkirsty-deactivated20210323]

[isaacsundermybed]

[randallryan-blog]

Can't Take The Sky From Me || Holdall

[holdenanders-deactivated2014092]

The sound of Randall moaning his name was enough to send fresh sparks down the boy’s body. His fingers slipped away when Randall grinded their erections together, gripping Randall’s hips and pressing back. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he drawled out, his mouth still in the crook of the boy’s neck where he’d bit down earlier. His hands, which were currently gripping Randall’s hips, moved up to stroke over his chest, his palms rubbing against his skin. “I can’t take this,” he said, letting out the reality of the situation. He didn’t want to screw this up and being new to anything like this was making the sensations even more life altering for the boy. “I need you,” he said again, but the words meant more than their hips rocking against each other in a hotel bed. “I want to –“ he stopped short of the actual words and leaned in to kiss his boyfriend again, just a peck on his lips, “I want to feel you around me.” He nipped at Randall’s lips as he pulled away. “I want to fuck you.”

[randallryan-blog]

A shiver ran up Randall's spine and he let out a quiet moan as Holden spoke against the skin of his neck, still hovering over the mark he'd made. "You feel amazing," he managed to shoot back, rolling his hips up against the other boy's again, fingers almost digging into the Hufflepuff's skin to ground him.  He arched into Holden's hands roaming over his chest, losing himself in the fiery trails the boy's fingers left behind, a fire that was quickly robbing him of the ability to form a coherent sentence.  One of his hands slowly slid up along Holden's side, slipping around so he could flatten his palm against the boy's shoulder blade and pull him closer.  He looked up into blue eyes, a huff of air escaping him as he listened to what Holden was saying against his lips between light nips.  "Please," he muttered, almost begging for the other boy to continue, shifting beneath the boy with a hint of a grin on his kiss-swollen lips.  "Please fuck me," he added, leaning up for another kiss.

[randallryan-blog]

Watch How I Soar || Holdall

[holdenanders-deactivated2014092]

Holden grunted under the sudden pressing of Randall’s fingers into his shoulder. It grounded him, Randall was still fighting. It shouldn’t have been surprised, he’d always been a fighter, but with the blood pooled on the floor and the ashy colour of the other’s skin – the fact that he was hanging on was incredible. It meant something. “I’m never going to let you go,” Holden promised, and in that moment he leaned down and left a kiss on the boy’s forehead. The skin was too hot and Holden pulled back from the kiss, just looking down at him. “Not ever. It doesn’t matter what happens. You’re mine and I’m yours and that’s just the way it has to be.” He looked down into the thick eyelashes of his lover, ran his hand over his cheeks, and thought about the night before. “So you can’t die here. You can’t give up yet. You gotta keep awake, honey,” he whispered, fingers tracing the skin that was sickly. It was all he had to cling to, he couldn’t let go of hope, not yet.

[randallryan-blog]

Holden's promise soothed Randall's fears a little, but he was still terrified.  And who wouldn't be?  He was lying there, bleeding out in his boyfriend's arms, something that - unless he got help and soon - would inevitably kill him.  Suddenly there was too much he wanted to say to the other boy; he wanted to tell him how much he loved him, how grateful he was that Holden had been there to rescue him when he'd been kidnapped, and how sorry he was that he couldn't help the boy fulfill the daydream he'd just shared.  He couldn't find the air to say anything anymore, though; instead, he had to fight to breathe against the growing feeling of nothingness starting to envelop him.  Randall tried to listen to what the boy was saying, but he was fading fast.  Spots of grey and black were dancing at the edges of his vision, growing too quick to do anything to stop them.  And so it was that he let his eyes flutter shut as Holden's fingers stroked over his cheeks, much too tired to do anything to stay awake any longer.