#verse: once bitten twice never learns

[zillennial97]

Friends to Lovers | Larry Fanfic Recs

Hiding Place by alivingfire | 365k | Explicit

Louis never wanted a soulmate, didn’t really care for the whole Bonding thing at all, really. Enter Harry Styles, who’s wanted to be Bonded for as long as he could remember. With one fateful meeting in an X Factor bathroom, Louis gets a dagger on his arm and the realization that just because Harry is his soulmate doesn’t mean it’s mutual.

From the X Factor house to Madison Square Garden, from the Fountain Studios stage to stadiums across the world, Louis has to learn to love without losing himself completely, because someday his best friend will Bond to someone and replace Louis as the center of his universe. Meanwhile, Harry begins to think that maybe fate doesn’t actually know what it’s doing after all, because his other half has clearly been right in front of him the whole time. All he has to do now is convince Louis to give them a chance.

Or, the canon compliant Harry and Louis love story from the very beginning, where the only difference is that the love between them is literally written on their skin, and there’s only so much they can hide.

And Then a Bit by infinitelymint | 158k | Explicit

“We’d like to give the fans what they want.” Magee states, placing his hand on the table in front of him and leaning forward. “We want to give them Larry Stylinson.”

Or, take a parallel universe where Louis and Harry were never together, mix in a two year hiatus and an impending comeback, pour in a dash of lost fans, two tablespoons of strong friendship and a Modest! employee with a good idea. Add a squeeze of pretending to be a couple, lots of kisses and a tattoo or two. Stir. Serve: the mother of all publicity stunts.

(aka Harry and Louis fake a relationship for publicity. Eventually it becomes a lot less fake and a lot more real.)

Wild Love by purpledaisy | 130k | Explicit

“Good,” Julia says, clearly pleased to have them both uncomfortable and unable to look at each other. “Now, I only have one more question before you can go. What are you planning to do when this experiment ruins your friendship?”

“We said we’d stay friends no matter what,” Harry says smoothly, his chin lifting in defense.

“That was our one thing going into it,” Louis agrees. “Stay friends no matter what.”

Julia raises a perfectly manicured brow, “That’s all fine and good. But I hope you realize your emotions aren’t going to realize this is an experiment in the end. If one of you falls for the other and finds out those feelings are not reciprocated, you’re not going to be able to laugh it off as a social experiment. I’m not saying you shouldn’t do this, I’m just hoping you’ve considered all of the possible outcomes.”

- AU: Two best friends try to date each other for forty days. It's supposed to be fun until emotions make it complicated.

California Sold by isthatyoularry | 123k | Mature

Notoriously closeted boyband member Harry Styles is famous on a global scale, meanwhile Louis, as his best friend, is back home in Manchester, living the typical life of a 24 year old. When Harry needs Louis with him in LA, a publicity stunt gone wrong changes their friendship forever.

A fake-relationship AU between two lifelong best friends.

Tired Tired Sea by MediaWhore | 113k | Mature

As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

Like a Bullet in the Dark by Vurdoc | 99k | Explicit

Prince Harold Edward Styles Lancaster is second in line to the throne of Great Britain. He is also your average Uni student- or he tries to be, anyway.

With a promise from the press (and his father) that they'll leave him alone for four years, he sets out to be a student at Cambridge, when he meets his very normal, very working class, very handsome suite-mate, Louis Tomlinson.

Louis makes Harry feel more like a person than he ever has before, which might cause some issues later on- 'cause Harry has a secret that he's only told his sister Gemma about.

Little does he know though, that Louis has some secrets of his own.

A Will & Kate Au- with a twist.

Christmas-ing With You by dolce_piccante | 65k | Mature

Two writers from Loving Heart Television, the premiere network for holiday romance films, find that, sometimes, love is not only in their works of fiction.

Faking It by TheCellarDoor | 46k | Mature

A uni AU in which Louis has been Harry’s best friend since he offered him cubed fruit on the playground, and they spend more time cuddling in their dorm beds than they do apart, but it’s not like that. Or is it?

Aka Harry pretends to date his best friend to escape unwanted attention from a too insistent classmate and hopes it won’t blow up in his face. Featuring embarrassing dildo accidents, awkward boners, longing, first times, late night conversations, emotional discoveries and Niall as the exasperated friend with bad advice.

if the sun don't shine by falsegoodnight | 36k | Explicit

Louis finds himself struck frozen, fingers stuck in place where he’s flattened them against the cold railing. It takes every bit of his remaining strength to pull them away, sliding them under his shirt and pressing them to his stomach to leech some of the warmth. He hardly pays attention to the bite of the wind and air on his shivering body. He can only pay attention to the music.

The music that is undoubtedly new to Louis’ ears, yet listening to it is the most familiar thing Louis has ever experienced. An inexplicable rush of emotions flood his mind and body, rendering him speechless and hollow. It’s a call of loneliness. It rings of everything Louis’ been feeling.

And the pure yearning - the intense longing for something and someone - tears through straight to Louis’ heart. The desperation feels all too intimate, all too real. It makes Louis think of what he yearns for more than anything. It makes him think of his soulmate.

-

In a world where you meet your soulmates in dreams, Louis has spent the last three years going to bed hoping to finally meet his, only to end up disappointed time and time again. It all changes with a violin.

From the Start by allwaswell16 | 32k | Explicit

Louis has no idea that one act of kindness will cause his life to spiral out of control. But that's what happens when his new friend fake proposes to him and a video of it goes viral.

Barefoot in Blue Jeans by indiaalphawhiskey | 24k | Explicit

AU. Louis Tomlinson is trying desperately hard not to fall for his son’s au pair, but he can’t, for the life of him, remember why.

475. The hope that this fear is unfounded.

In Dreams by dolce_piccante | 23k | Mature

AU. When Harry moves to a new city, his new flat come with a number of sweet, anonymous gifts and surprises that brighten his days. Could it be a friendly ghost? Another friendly presence in his new building is his tattooed neighbor, Louis, who seems determined to put a smile back on his face.

You're Writing Verses About Me by Rearviewdreamer | 23k | Teen And Up Audiences

Everybody knows that Louis has never been one for serious boyfriends. His reputation around campus precedes him, which is why he doesn't think twice before proudly telling his mother about his new and completely fabricated relationship with his oddly quiet and completely

And I Will Hold On To You by darkmarkburning, staybeautiful | 23k | Mature

“I can’t believe my best friend is about to be Prime Minister of Canada,” Harry whispered in his ear, his arms tight around Louis’ shoulders. “Who decided it was a good idea to let some brash kid from Doncaster run a country?”

“I don’t know,” Louis laughed into his shoulder, “but if you promise not to tell them they’ve made a mistake I’ll give you a posh office.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Tomlinson.” Harry pulled away and smacked a kiss onto Louis’ cheek. “I’m proud of you, Lou, I can’t fucking believe it, but I’m proud of you.”

or Louis has just been elected Prime Minister of Canada and Harry is his best friend since childhood.

the way the storms blow by rbbsbb | 21k | Explicit

Louis doesn’t have a habit of thinking about Harry’s dick.

That would be weird, seeing as they’re best mates, and they share a flat, and they’ve spent holidays at each other’s family homes. Their friendship hasn’t ever risen to a point where Louis should want to see his mate’s dick, and he’s happy to keep it that way.

Except, all that Louis can think about is exactly that. The size of it. The shape. The amount of people it’s been in.

Maybe it’s the tequila talking, or the fact that Louis’ just recently walked in to an eyeful of Harry taking turns on some slags that he’s never seen before, but. Louis’ mind can’t stop obsessing over the idea.

Autumn At My Window by TheCellarDoor | 20k | Mature

A canon-compliant AU, in which Harry and Louis are both in the band and have been sharing flats and hotel rooms for nearly five years, but never made the leap past 'friends who are too close for comfort'.

Featuring a lot of pining, Louis' addiction to Harry's scent, and a whole lot of sexual tension that might just snap loose when they decide to spend some time together all on their own.

The Sex Methods by Alice_Novelland | 19k | Explicit

Harry and Louis explore alternative methods aka sex methods to help each other out.

once bitten and twice shy by pinkcords | 19k | Mature

This time as his stomach rolls, there’s no doubt about it. He’s going to vomit. And if he does, it’ll be on Louis’ shoes, a nice little parting gift to go with the embarrassment he’s caused the both of them. “I’m gonna throw up,” he says just as Louis turns to look at him, blue eyes swimming with shock and confusion, and asks, “Is that true?”

Or, in a rush of bravery only senior year can bring, Harry confesses his feelings in a letter to his neighbor and best friend, Louis, only for the entire school to hear it and laugh him out of their small town in Wisconsin. Ten years later, Harry's a successful lawyer at Columbia Records, coming home for Christmas for the first time since he departed for college. He plans to work his way through the trip, eat his mom's cooking, and avoid everyone from his past for as long as possible. The only problem is best laid plans hardly ever go as intended.

Oblivious by Speechless | 19k | Explicit

"You say it's nothing serious after you've been obsessing over it for months," Liam observes, pausing their videogame. "But now you barely talk about it-" "You guys fucking ignore me whenever I try!" Louis shouts, bumping his shoulder against Liam's and hurting himself in the process. "You're postponing sex, when it's obvious that Luke's up for it at this point." Liam ignores him. "For some reason you've left Harry in the dark about it-" "What?!" Louis snaps, banging his controller against the coffee table. "I have not!" "And no matter how blatant it is, no matter how fucking ridiculous you both get when it comes to it-" "Shut your hole." Louis urges, pinching his thigh, as soon as Harry enters the room. "Shush."

* Where Louis gets a little crush on Luke and for some reason Harry starts acting weird *

searching for a sweet surrender (but this is not the end) by feelslikehxme | 18k | Teen And Up Audiences

Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles, the two most loved coaches on The Voice UK known for their banter on the show and best friendship off. Louis’s determined to win and finally end Harry’s winning streak with Zayn Malik on his team, but Harry’s flirting and Liam Payne have different plans.

— Or an AU based off the Voice where Louis’s Adam, Harry’s Blake, Niall’s Shakira, Zayn and Liam have a cliche Romeo/Juliet love story and Louis’s too old for pathetic pining.

Can I bother you for a sex? by perfectdagger (sincerelyste) | 16k | Explicit

Reason #40 – Called/texted the wrong person, but he was into it anyway

“So, this isn’t really an invite for a sex, I see,” Louis spoke, not missing the chance. There was a teasing smile on his lips as he turned around to face Harry again after he had just closed the door.

Harry let out a laugh as he closed his eyes and shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Oh for fuck's sake, Louis,” he looked back at Louis, “this will haunt me forever now, won’t it?”

Louis shrugged. “Not my fault some people manage to mistext and sext others at the same time.”

When Harry mistexts Louis, Louis realises that he wouldn't mind Harry bothering him with anything, especially not with sex.

You'll Be Home For Christmas by 2tiedships2 | 15k | Not Rated

“Honesty, Lou, just ask Harry for help.”

Louis remained silent as he continued to scowl at the Christmas calendar Niall had hung on their refrigerator.

“And be nice to my calendar filled with holiday cheer,” Niall instructed. “You’re going to burn a fucking hole in it from the way you’re glaring at the innocent thing. It’s not the calendar’s fault that your heat is starting so close to Christmas.”

You're The One That I Want by spacecakesandmilkshakes | 15k | Explicit

Harry had always been Louis' best friend and...well...his baby, until one day he realized that his baby was all grown up.

show you the stars in the daylight by bruisedhoney | 13k | Explicit

Louis laughed, the sound loud and borderline obnoxious. Harry winced. “Are you kidding, Haz? I wouldn’t even look twice at someone that couldn’t pick me up.”

And, well. That was new information to Harry. It’s not like Louis had ever mentioned to him that he was his type in any way, shape, or form. Harry shifted closer into the space between Louis’s legs, even more intrigued than before. “Why not?” he asked curiously, all pink lips and big curls. Louis smiled.

“Tiny, innocent, little Harold. Need someone that can pick me up, don’t I? I like being tossed around a little. You know, pinned down and made to take it. Lifted up like I’m nothing,” Louis said it all with a confident smile, his sharp little teeth tugging at his bottom lip as he locked eyes with the jock across the kitchen. “Think he might come over here. Move over. I don’t want him to think we’re together.”

Or, the one where Louis has a type and at sixteen and scrawy, it's definitely not his best friend's little brother Harry...ten years later, he changes his mind.

when everybody wants you by nightwideopen | 11k | Mature

Harry nearly faints on the spot. He got the job. He’s going to be on Saturday Night Live.

Three of Harry's dreams come true, then one of them falls apart.

or

the SNL au that no one asked for

Shape of You by Only_angel_28 | 11k | Explicit

“Seriously?” Surely, Harry must be joking. Louis arches a skeptical brow and snaps the waistband of Harry’s joggers playfully. “What exactly do you have down there, Styles? I know you’ve got four nipples, d’ya have a couple extra bollocks as well or summat?”

“No!” Harry shrieks, his voice bordering on shrill. “No,” He repeats a little quieter, calmer, “I just—I’m, er, kinda…big, I guess.”

Louis rolls his eyes in fond exasperation. “That’s hardly a problem, curly.”

*Or Harry is insecure about a certain rather large part of his anatomy that is apparently intimidating to the point where it has actually scared off potential shags. When he ends up confessing this to his best friend and roommate, Louis takes it upon himself to prove that Harry’s size doesn't have to be a curse, and decides to help show him just how perfect he is.

Waiting by allwaswell16 for LadyLondonderry | 10k | Explicit

Louis Tomlinson was Harry’s omega, of this Harry had always been sure. Unfortunately for Harry, Louis seemed to think they were just best friends. The six weeks that Harry has to live with Louis were going to be rough.

You Give Me Fever (What A Lovely Way To Burn) by my_fandom_OTPs | 10k | Explicit

Louis walks in on Harry jerking off in the shower. What happens after is just… Impulsive and spontaneous.

the value of this moment lives in metaphor by clicheanna for hattalove | 10k | Teen And Up Audiences

Louis and Harry are best friends and absolutely nothing more. It’s a bit strange that, suddenly, everyone thinks they’re dating.

Or the one where they’re all teachers at a high school and students are more invested in their lives than normally expected.

trusting things beyond mistake by sarcasticfluentry | 9k | Explicit

"Is that even possible?" asks Harry.

All of them stare at him for several seconds, and then Louis says, "What, coming untouched?"

"Christ," Zayn mutters, throwing his hands up. “This fucking band, I swear.”

...or, Harry wants to see if he can come without touching his cock and ends up getting more than he bargained for.

And I Will Steady Your Hand by kiwikero | 9k | Explicit

All first year university students who had not yet presented were strongly advised to join the Fire Away meetings, a support group for so-called 'late bloomers.'

They were not, however, advised to fall in love with someone else at the meetings without knowing what they might eventually present as.

A Christmas Wish by Snowy38 | 8k | Mature

"So when are you going to tell him?"

Louis pursed his lips at his sister, his Skype video call relaying his thoughts on that subject perfectly.

"Next question," he mused.

Lottie rolled her eyes.

"It's your birthday in four days, Louis."

"What difference does that make?" He scoffed.

She shrugged.

"You can get drunk and confess how you feel and take it back afterwards if he doesn't feel the same."

That might work if Louis wasn't in love with Harry. But Lottie didn't know that and she didn't need to find out.

"Thanks Lots," he said anyway.

"Seriously Lou what's stopping you?"

Louis sighed.

"Fear mostly."

Under that Damn Mistletoe by hickeystyles | 7k | Mature

Louis' heart froze when he looked over and saw Liam whispering in Harry’s ear and nodding towards the mistletoe. Louis’ eyes widened comically before he dove out of sight so Harry couldn’t see him standing under the mistletoe like an idiot, or worse, like he was part of Liam’s plan to have Harry kiss him.

Or a Christmas Party AU where Louis is in love with his best friend Harry and everyone else is trying to force the two of them under the mistletoe together

We Could Be A Dream by Bearandleonardwrite | 7k | Explicit

“So, I’ve never seen you at one of these parties before,” Harry says as he hands Louis his drink. “Who’re you here for?”

Well, shit. Louis was definitely not expecting that. He sips on his drink to give him a few moments to think of an answer and then, “Oh, y’know. I’m dating the host’s brother. What about you?” He’s quite pleased with himself. Great answer. He takes another drink as a reward.

Harry grins at him, eyes bright, and shrugs. “Gemma’s my sister.” Louis hums around the rim of his cup waiting for him to elaborate. “She’s the host,” he tacks on, smug smile on his face. Louis chokes on his drink and tries his best to glare at Harry while he coughs. Harry rubs at his back until he can breathe properly again, which is actually really not that helpful. “Didn’t realize we were dating, Lou. I’m flattered.”

(Basically; Louis meets Harry at a party that he wasn't invited to. He ends up asking Harry to tutor him so he can keep seeing him. Featuring a bit of pining and a tea party.)

Mission Fucking Impossible by orphan_account | 7k | Mature

“Are you and Louis fucking?”

Harry nearly spits out his drink as he tries to communicate a "what the ever living fuck" to Niall with his eyes.

Niall takes another casual sip of his beer “Not like I’m the only one thinking it mate, I’m just the only one saying it out loud.”

- Harry is in love with Louis, and he is almost positive Louis is in love with him too. Naturally, Harry deals with this by trying to get Louis horny and hope for the best.

Things don't exactly work out how he plans.

One day to believe in you by mediaville | 7k | Explicit

A mysterious force compels Louis to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Even when it's really inconvenient.

Harry blinks and has the nerve to look surprised. "You think about me when you get off?"

"Yes," Louis says. He wonders how hard he'd need to punch himself in the face to knock himself out.

"Often?"

"Yes, Christ, Harry," Louis groans. "Probably eight times a week for going on six years now. On average, you know. More when we were touring, less when I've been visiting family. Anything else you'd like to know?"

Fake It Till We Make It by whileatwiltshire | 7k | General Audiences

#33- Keeping up with the Neighbors

“We can fake it.”

What?

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“No I did not. Say it again.”

“I said” Harry started slowly, “We can fake having sex to teach them a lesson.”

It was clear to say that Louis's mouth went a little dry at the suggestion.

Or ,

Their neighbours were a bit too loud during their bedroom activities and Harry comes up with the worst plan to shut them up. Louis agrees anyways.

Web Me Harder by iwillpaintasongforlou | 6k | Explicit

Louis Tomlinson, otherwise known as London's masked hero Spiderman, finds himself crashing through the window of Harry Styles one night after a particularly nasty fight with a villain. Luckily Harry is a nursing student with a soft spot for caped crusaders who's more than happy to tend to all of Louis' wounds, no matter how many times he swings by.

candy in your mouth (i know you love me) by embodied | 6k | Explicit

“You’re wrong,” Harry says, jaw clenched tight. “Because if all I wanted was a fuck, I’ve got at least three willing parties a phone call and a five minute drive away. What I want is you. I want us, I want it to be normal again -”

“What the fuck is normal?” Louis yells, much too loudly, and has to pause to consciously lower his voice before he speaks again. “Because a year ago, normal was eating too much takeaway and watching B-movies on Netflix in your room, and then normal was me choking on your cock at half past two in the morning, and I don’t know about you, but as of the past few weeks, normal is not seeing or talking to you at all, because I’ve all but admitted that I’m fucking crazy for you and you don’t know what to say to that.” Louis’ chest heaves, his breath coming out short. He hears his own throat stick when he swallows, and his voice is decidedly weaker when he asks, “So which one is it, Harry?”

AU. Things have shifted since last Christmas.

Running Through a Cloud of Steam by allwaswell16 | 5k | Mature

As Harry’s long anticipated twenty-first birthday approaches, he anxiously awaits the moment when he finally meets his soulmate. He’s not even sure he believes in soulmates, but at the very least, he hopes to prove to his best friend that nothing can come between their friendship--not even a soulmate.

You Can't Blame Me For Tryin' by lululawrence | 5k | Mature

Reason # 38 - Because He Is From One of the Countries You Haven't Had Sex With a Person From Yet.

Louis had been accepted into the study abroad program through his uni back home and therefore got to spend a year in rural Minnesota, of all places, but he wasn’t going to complain. It was still a pretty cool experience, even if it was far different from what he had been expecting. And besides, if he’d been sent to literally any other university, he’d never have met Harry.

If It's Meant To Be (It'll Be, It'll Be) by lululawrence | 4k | Not Rated

“So, anyway. I’m done here and on my way to the airport. I think I’m expected to be there in the morning, around ten. I’ll let you know when I’m getting close.”

“Sounds good.” Harry pulled back from the window and threw himself onto one of the beds. Once he got comfortable, he steeled himself and then went for it. “It’s been too long this time, Lou,” he finally whispered. He watched as Louis bit his lip and nodded slowly.

“I know,” Louis agreed, just as quiet in return. “We have to swear to never go this long without seeing each other again. Two months is just...unacceptable. I’m gonna go now, but I’ll see you soon. ‘Kay?”

“Yeah. See you. Be safe,” Harry said, far too fondly for his best friend. He couldn’t help it though. It was how he always had been and probably always would be.

They hung up and Harry threw his arm over his face.

“I am so in love with him,” he whined to himself. “Fuck.”

Satisfaction by iwillpaintasongforlou | 2k | Teen And Up Audiences

Louis and Harry have known each other since before they could remember and been in love with one another for about as long, even though both steadfastly refuse to admit it. When Louis starts dating other people, it is only to help himself move on and not at all to make Harry jealous. And the sulking sort of anger Harry feels when he watches Louis kiss other people is completely irrelevant anyways.

#larry fanfiction recommendations #larry fanfic rec #larry fic #larry fanfiction #larry stylinson #louis tomlinson #harry styles #one direction fanfiction #one direction fanfic recs #larry fanfiction masterpost #friends to lovers

[warsmith-38]

How I would do RWBY pt. 5

Season Five.

Lingering drama amongst teams despite stable exterior.

Everyone’s a little wary of Blake on account of her cutting and running on them a couple seasons ago.

Everyone’s a little wary of Ruby and her insane berserker moment against Cinder.

Everyone’s a little wary of Yang and her being a bit of a dick recently.

Everyone’s a little wary of Weiss being a little emotionally fragile at this whole experience.

JNR is wary in general on the grounds that they didn’t sign up for this level of shit.

Everyone’s a little frazzled in general on account of recent events.

Qrow is giving them the rundown on Salem and Ozpin as far as he’s aware.

Says that they’re ancient demi-gods that have been fighting each other since before history.

He only knows so much because Ozpin is pretty tightlipped about his past and only gives certain individuals certain amounts of information.

Speaking of, Ozpin is there to greet them at Haven.

And teams CFVY and SSSN, leading to a happy reunion.

Haven headmaster is indisposed and can’t be present. (He’s on the phone with Salem)

Ozpin gives the skinny on what they know of Salem’s plan.

The exact plan still eludes them.

What they do know is that she has the remnants of the White Fang that follow Adam with the greater White Fang being uninvolved, a loose cabal of personal agents here and there, and literally countless grimm to bring to bear.

Easy odds, as far as they’re concerned.

They also tell him that Cinder has been beaten.

He doesn’t really care, seeing her as just another dime a dozen assassin.

He happier about Tyrian (Salem’s only truly competent assassin) being dead than anything about Cinder.

Ruby is quick to also say that being dropped down a pit doesn’t necessarily mean Cinder’s dead and if she shows up she gets first dibs.

Speaking of, Cinder is quite alive.

She is quickly found by Emerald and Mercury.

Cinder is wounded, but still powerful enough to kill the both of them should they piss her off.

Brief recovery period.

Discover that Salem isn’t returning her calls.

Salem’s decided that she’s gotten all she can out of Cinder and that she’s not worth further investment.

She can find another urchin, creep, or psycho to mold.

Brief moment of heartbreak is capped off with new plan to regain Salem’s favor.

Emerald and Mercury try to offer other options but eventually agree to come along because they have fuck all for other opportunities.

Get to Mistral and seek help of local crime boss for passage to Atlas to go about evil business there.

Crime boss restrains Emerald and Mercury.

Reveals that Neo already purchased their services.

Neo is angry at Cinder. Blames her for Roman’s death.

Cinder and Neo fight, Cinder wins, and shifts the blame of Roman to Ruby.

Neo acquiesces and teams up with Cinder and co. for revenge on Ruby. (Team CEMN for the win)

First act of new team is to kill local crime boss for trying to dupe 3/4 of them and steal their shit.

Neo just shrugs. No honor among thieves. They overcharged her anyway.

Set off for Atlas to cause problems on purpose to regain Salem’s attention.

RWBY + JNR take a well-earned moment of respite.

Catch up with CFVY and SSSN, fill them in on what’s been happening.

Ruby tries to bridge gaps by returning to being the designated weapon repairwoman.

Grills everyone for not taking better care of their shit.

Because how hard is it to do basic maintenance people?

Given downtime is able to upgrade Jaune’s sword + shield.

Sword has cooler design and shield can produce bubble shield effect now.

Ozpin takes RWBY and JNR aside to ask them to join his inner council.

He would have done it earlier but he was waiting to see if Ruby’s second semblance would ever awaken.

When they agree he elaborates further on Qrow’s earlier explanation.

He’s a great big windbag so he just info dumps everything (that they need to know) on them at once.

Explains that he is opposing demi-god to Salem. A deity of order and building as opposed to destruction and chaos.

Explains that he and Salem were created from on the whims of an ancient god of creation to guide the free peoples of the world and keep them all safe and sound.

Creator god fucked off after making the two of them on the grounds that it is explicitly a creator god not god of anything else.

It made the world. Caring for it is somebody else’s problem.

He and Salem disagreed as to how best to help people.

Salem thought that growth through conflict was the way to go and Ozpin thought that being the guiding hand from behind the scenes would work the best.

It eventually devolved into just trying to kill the other for getting in the way of each other’s plans.

Salem’s goal is to remove Ozpin from the equation and let people build and thrive in the natural way with a disaster, war, or genocide or two every now and then to keep them on their toes.

She’s basically the big evil boogeyman of the world.

Ozpin’s goal is to remove Salem on the grounds that he feels that the best thing he can do to keep order is not to allow said disasters, wars, or genocides and keep people alive for his later plans.

Either can only be killed by direct action of the other.

They keep themselves separate and ideally safe from each other.

Salem has been trying to find workaround for this for ages.

Salem created the grimm as a means of keeping humanity on its toes, fed by negative emotion in an attempt of dissuading such feelings.

They failed both at that and as a means to permanently kill Ozpin, but she now had an army for the rest of her plans.

Ozpin responded by creating and seeding the world with dust, giving the people a means to fight against the darkness surrounding them.

He never puts himself in the direct spotlight of history. Always the vizier, never the king.

Dust also had the side effect of eventually irradiating humanity and giving them aura and, furthermore, semblances.

These newly powered people, when dead and buried, eventually fossilize into more dust.

Most dust mines are ancient burial grounds. Creepy ain’t it?

Ozpin tried to capitalize on his success and tried to create super-soldiers to use said dust, aura, and semblances to protect humanity by combining human and animal traits.

Yep, Ozpin created the ancient faunus.

That and racism is indirectly his fault too.

He made the original faunus to be overseers and guardians to humanity.

In essence, they were designed to be feudal warlords with extra animal abilities that secretly answered only to him and ruled humans with iron fists.

Resulting human rebellions happened and Ozpin used his creations as scapegoats, letting them take all the blame and quietly …quieting anyone who knew the truth.

And that’s where the racism first came from. It has long since changed and muddied, but that was the initial reason.

He words all of this nicer and glides over the parts that make him look bad.

Salem and Ozpin have been picking at each other like that for eons.

Fall of Beacon only happened to try and distract Ozpin long enough for the latest scheme to kill him to be tried.

Destroying his pet project school was just a bonus.

Suffice it to say that that particular plan failed its main objective but still caused everything to fall apart.

Salem is now officially persona non grata, if she wasn’t already, among those present to the explanation.

Adam is trying to get more support from Sienna.

He has a small band of hardliners (psychos) with him but wants more bodies for his plans.

Gives big speech about faunus supremacy and the like.

Sienna tells him to fuck off, points out that he’s just repeating platitudes and doesn’t really care about the cause.

Reiterates his excommunication, citing working with Torchwick and Salem (despite the fact that she was cool with it at the time) as well as getting an unignorably large amount of his own people killed.

Collateral damage only goes so far, even for terrorists.

Adam vs Sienna.

Sienna wins and Adam slinks away, defeated but alive.

Adam’s hardliners get some more members but nowhere near what he wanted.

He’ll have to make do.

Salem wants him to do as terrorists do across Mistral.

Adam suggest that since Fall of Beacon worked fairly well… second verse same as the first?

Salem puts the kibosh on that plan.

She wants people to learn and thrive in a semi-natural way, she doesn’t want to just wipe them all out.

She’s fine with a little culling now and then but too much killing and they’ll never recover right.

Has new plan to try and kill Ozpin.

Has resurrected Tyrian, making a faunus/grimm Frankenstein thingy that she can directly possess at will.

All she needs is an opportunity to infiltrate him into Mistral.

Adam’s job is to provide an exploitable distraction.

He’s okay with that.

Yang has argument with Blake about running off like a punk.

Blake says it won’t happen again.

Yang says once bitten twice shy.

Ruby talks to Blake about Raven and Tai and the abandonment issues Yang has as a result of them both.

Meeting Raven and realizing that she was just a piece of shit this whole time only made things worse.

Says that Blake leaving like she did didn’t help.

Ruby also admits that her own leaving probably wasn’t great either.

Ruby wants her to know that she has faith in her but Yang has always needed a little more than faith.

Weiss airs some grievances to Yang about her dickish behavior.

Yang apologizes for her churlishness and reassures Weiss that the team is still going to be together but she is still mad at Blake.

Weiss tries to help smooth things over further but is interrupted.

Ilia shows up, is met with gun barrels.

Says she was sent by Sienna to take care of Adam, avoiding getting slotted by everyone.

Is kept at arm’s length but if she’s helping then, sure fine whatever, she can help.

Coco, Yatsuhashi, Weiss, and Ren try to talk to Ruby about not going crazy the next time she sees Cinder.

The best they can do is get her to agree that being so out of control insane while fighting her might not be the best way to fight.

They try and say that that’s really not good enough.

Ruby changes the subject via some odd noises she hears.

Haven headmaster (Lionheart? I barely know, or give much of a shit about, canon at this point) is part of The Cabal and is giving regular reports to Salem.

How else could CEMN masquerade as Haven students?

Almost gets walked in on.

Cheeses it but leaves the grimm thing that lets him talk to Salem.

Ruby has brief conversation with Salem.

Salem tries to tempt her, says that Ozpin is an asshole that only wants to control people not help them.

Ruby calls her a bitch.

Cites that Salem ruined her life and got some of her friends killed for this crap, not to mention her fucking mother.

Salem is just listening, still stunned from the audacity of being called a bitch right to her face.

Ruby finishes off by saying that even if Ozpin is an asshole, better the devil you know.

She then kills the grimm.

People now know there’s a turncoat and the only absolute they have is that it’s not Ruby or Ozpin (duh).

Everyone walking on eggshells, not sure who the traitor is.

Accusations are thrown around.

Eventually, after some shouting, everyone comes to the conclusion that it’s also not WBY, JNR, CFVY, or Qrow.

Logic starts to work its magic.

Lionheart tries to calm everyone down, IE: distract everyone from the growingly obvious.

Adam is up to his old tricks.

Blake and Ilia notice and point it out.

Lionheart breathes a sigh of relief as RWBY and JNR mobilize to stop Adam.

Adam is just a distraction.

Tyrian is slipped into the city via some bribes and carefully placed murders.

Adam has placed bombs across the city and broadcasts to the city that they’re doomed.

The civilians start to panic and draw grimm.

Mistral defense force is now busy dealing with said grimm.

Team splits up to stop the bombs.

Tyrian makes his move, attacks Ozpin directly.

Salem assumes direct control, hoping that this will count as her killing Ozpin herself.

SSSN and CFVY pop up and fight Tyrian!Salem.

Start getting their shit kicked in because it’s a fucking demi-goddess in a crazy scorpion demon body.

JNR returns.

Qrow finally does something too.

Ozpin even gets off his lazy ass.

Everyone helps take on Tyrian!Salem and win, killing Tyrian for good and pissing off Salem.

Ozpin got killed again to do it. (He’ll be back)

Blake and Yang find Adam.

Fight him, beat him, he runs away, we know how this song and dance goes.

Blake chases him alone.

Says that she has realized that Adam had been trying to commit suicide by anti-terrorism for a while.

Adam gets enraged and fights Blake again.

Adam final boss fight.

Blake starts winning.

Adam goes beyond the brink of madness.

In his anger he manages to destroy Blake’s weapon.

About to kill Blake but sees a little trinket he gave her when they were kids.

Sees his own reflection and sees a monster where he should be standing.

Realizes his own sense of self-destruction.

“I must already be dead,” –Vlad Dracula Tepes. It applies, says I.

Blake puts Adam down.

Yang arrives, worried that Blake ran off… again.

Blake has completely broken down.

Yang comforts Blake, who just had to kill one of her oldest friends.

Bombs and terrorists are dealt with.

RW see Blake is having troubles and embraces her along with Yang.

Blake, with tears in her eyes, swears to never abandon her team and friends ever again.

RWBY comes together and all vow to be there for each other.

Team RWBY are truly together once again.

Ruby uses parts from Adam’s weapon to repair and upgrade Blake’s.

Ozpin gets back up. (What I tell ya?)

Lionheart is found out as the traitor and calls everyone chicken shit for siding with Ozpin.

Says that Ozpin is a paranoid control freak who would strip them of all free will and thought if he could.

In fact, he says that that exact thing is Ozpin’s plan once Salem is beaten.

Salem at least promised freedom.

Ozpin doesn’t exactly deny these accusations by promptly and rather brutally executing Lionheart.

Reactions are cut short when a news bulletin plays on the TV about problems in Atlas.

WF-SDC war has officially stopped being a shadow war and there is now open combat in the streets.

They catch a very brief shot on the telly of something that looks a lot like a grimm arm on some chick.

Ruby has reacquired target-lock.

RWBY and JNR set off once again, this time for Atlas.

Season five done.

#RWBY #Not going to bother tagging it as RWDE from now on #Ruby Rose #Weiss Schnee #Blake Belladonna #Yang Xiao Long #Qrow Branwen #Cinder Fall #Emerald Sustrai #Mercury Black #Neopolitan #Team JNPR #Team CFVY #Adam Taurus #Sienna Khan #Salem #How I would do...

[therucrap]

The RuCrap: Season 13 episode 2!

Holler at me I know you know me! Holler at me I know you know me! Episode 2 of the RuCrap has arrived! Once again please help out a writer in the pandemic by sharing & following! Enjoy!

We crawl back into RuPaul’s tangled web of elimination fuckery where we left off in Porkchop’s Loading Deck with the dejected Denali, Tamisha Iman, Joey Jay, Rosé, Kahmora Hall, Utica, and Elliott with 2 T’s who must now begrudgingly vote to put one of these complete strangers out of her misery! It’s a tie between wide-eyed carpool mom Elliott and neon sock puppet Utica and Ru bellows over the PA like the evil middle school principal that she is to inform her pupils that they must now vote between the two super-losers. Ultimately Elliott with 2 T’s becomes Elliott with 2 eliminations and it’s the final heartless slap of a drawn out and unreasonably brutal elimination even for Lord Ru’s medieval standards but we’re 13 years into this big gay carnival of trauma and Stockholm Syndrome is in full effect so let’s quickly move on, sympathize with our captors, and for God’s sake never return to Porkchop’s haunted She Shed ever again!

It’s day 2 and our previous winners GottMik, Lala Ri, Symone, Olivia Lux, Kandy Muse, and Tina Burner burst into the Werk Room none the wiser of the fate of the fallen and are greeted by Ru who wastes no time shaking things up by announcing that a new queen will be joining them and before the girls can even process... in walks Elliott with two T’s! Yes that’s right! After a full episode of push and pull with the drag poltergeist our poor Carol Anne is spit back into the competition covered in ectoplasm, her weary eyes now holding the unfathomable secrets of the other side, and once again we’ve taken the scenic route on one of RuPaul’s notorious twists that brought us right back to square one! But what would this winding shaggy dog joke of a premiere wrench be without our evil mastermind shoe-horning in a sappy life lesson? Ru momentarily softens to take us down memory lane and celebrate first-eliminated queens who went on to become superstars and explains that the moral of the fairy tale is “Don’t let anyone make you feel like a loser” which is ironic coming straight from the diabolical puppet master who determined Elliott a loser last week and then sent her to a small storage crate backstage to be called a loser two more times by her fellow competitors. It’s like Mike Tyson popping into Evander Holyfield’s dressing room after their fight to tell him that he could learn a thing or two about not feeling like he just had his ear bitten off. I haven’t been this confused by the manipulative rationale of an egomaniac since Shangela tried to justify going on vacation to Puerto Vallarta in a pandemic to sell $10 scented hand sanitizers in hotel lobbies. Ru tells our newly revamped winner’s circle to prepare to hit the runway to showcase a ladylike daytime look and a whorish campy nighttime look and like that they’re off!

Our models gussy up at the makeup stations and resident shit-stirrers Re-Tina George and Kandy Weiners greet Elliott with folded arms, bizarrely speculating about her intentions in returning (um... because RuPaul told her to?) and calling her “Elliott the Spy” (oh Golly) as if they aren’t all just prey in RuPaul’s Most Dangerous Game. Lest we forget that Elliott has cheated death twice already and instead of letting their poking rile her up she plays on Kandy’s paranoia. When Kandy expresses her excitement in finally being a Ru girl like her sisters, Elliott bluntly notes that historically queens related to past contestants haven’t faired well in the competition. Instantly frustrated by this valid counter-point, Kandy grumbles under her breath at the audacity of someone challenging her advanced wit and bless us all because a rivalry has begun!

We head to the blackbox runway for America’s Next Top Trauma where Ty-Ru Banks, Jan-chelle Dicken-sage, and Nigel Matthews are perched awaiting this year’s installment of the world’s tiniest fashion show which serves as much of a OMG-Yas-Queen showcase of fashion excellence as it does an ominous warning of what fashion storylines we’ll be bludgeoned over the head with. The trends this season are Olivia Lux’s Polly Pocket purses and whether we like it or not Tina the Heat Miser is going to is going to be dressed in a combination of orange, red, and yellow until every last VH1 viewer has fully gotten the pun in her name, taste be damned. As for the rest of our fashion darlings — GottMik and Symone are unpredictable couture shape-shifters who ace the showcase, confident Kandy shows that audacity is her strong suit, Elliott does decently but plays it safe, and Lala borders on mall fashion show.

Ru informs the queens they’ll be penning verses for and performing her catchphrase conduit Condragulations. Professional dancer Elliott proves her worth by stepping forward to save an otherwise unproductive rehearsal but things grind to a halt when it’s time to choreograph GottMik’s verse which begins “GottMik - was born a girl baby!” Mik (who later clarifies that she/her/hers pronouns are to be used in the drag context and he/him/his otherwise) instantly freezes and tells us in confessional that she hasn’t told her transition story to the group and didn’t consider the fact that this proclamation would be blaring loudly on the runway before she had the chance. The moment is clearly visceral for the usually unshakable Mik but the preoccupied group is mostly unaware and is more concerned as to why the now distracted Mik is unable to learn the routine.

It’s challenge day and the queens begin painting! Mik comes out as trans to a comforting Olivia while camera hogs Kandy and Tina continue to go full Red Scare on Elliott who they believe was sent back into the competition to spy on them... whatever that could possibly mean. When the topic turns to the competition almost everyone identifies the already well-established Mik as their biggest threat and I would have to agree.

We hit the Main Stage where director/ choreographer Jamal Sims joins the judges in an outfit that suggests he also moonlights as a matador. Condragulations goes off mostly without a snag and Lala, Tina, Kandy, and Elliott deliver the most confident verses, Olivia steals the fashion spotlight once again, and Kandy fumbles the choreography. The runway theme is Lamé You Stay and the judges favor Mik, Olivia, Symone, and Tina but still praise Lala, Kandy, and Elliott for an overall impressive week and Ru announces that Olivia and Symone are the top two and no one is in the bottom. They deliver synchronized, playful versions of Break My Heart by Dula Peep but it’s Symone who snatches the $5,000 tip making her our first big winner of the season!

That brings us to the end once again with a full cast but that can only mean one thing... poltergeist is getting that much hungrier! Next week our exiled queens from Pork Chop Island will return for their own premiere! Share the RuCrap if you enjoy and I’ll see you on the other side of the TV, Carol Anne!

#drag queen #gay #rupaul's drag race #rupaul #Jamal simms #tamisha iman #kahmora hall #rosé #joey jay #utica queen #Utica #denali #kandy muse #gottmik #olivia lux #lala ri #symone #tina burner #rucrap #elliott #elliott with 2 ts #Michelle visage #rpdr s13 #RPDR

[fangbites]

Who: Caleb With: Ollie ( @sxncerelyme​ ) Verse: Makin’ Magic. Prompt: send me a 💏 and i will randomise a number in order for my muse to kiss yours... 20. on a scar.

Caleb had never been a particularly violent man.

His Ma and Pa had been simple folk, farmers, and not even particularly large- scale ones at that. They’d been the kind of peasants that treasured their small herd of sheep like their lives had depended on it, and it had. Their sheep and their garden had been what kept them from starving.

They’d had no business at all taking in the screaming infant they’d found left abandoned on the rocky shoreline on their way home from a trip to the capitol city, but as his Ma had always put it- they’d had no choice, from a moral standpoint. And, she always told him, you’ve been the greatest blessing we ever could have asked for.

It had been years since the plague had taken them, and they’d never been able to conceive any other children. In a community like theirs, Caleb hadn’t ever really been completely alone- he and his neighbors had a policy of helping where they could and with them all banding together, with them all scrabbling at a different livelihood and specialty, they managed to form a trading circle that ensured they all got what they needed to survive, even if some years or seasons stretched awful thin.

Still, there was a difference between the shelter of community and the bond of a family. Perhaps Caleb had been desperate for that kind of love when he’d brought home a nearly dead witch and nursed him back to health.

Something- someone- had attacked him.

Caleb had been terrified, looking at the bloody body unconscious near the treeline at the very edge of his property. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d had to dig a grave. He’d done so twice when he was eleven. He was nineteen now and stronger, he could do it- but the corpse had let out a startling raspy moan when he’d went to bundle it up and move it and of course the only thing left to do was cart it to his little two- room shack and take care of it. Him.

It was the edge of winter now, and he had barely enough stored away to feel secure that he’d feed himself. But from a moral standpoint, he didn’t have a choice. And who knew? Maybe it would be a blessing. Maybe his greatest blessing ever.

And as time went on, Caleb grew more and more convinced that it was.

It turned out the man’s name was Ollie. It also turned out that Ollie was even more handsome cleaned up and fed and conscious than he was bloody and dirty and nearly- dead looking, and Ollie was funny and smart and pretty and he made Caleb feel warm and happy even on the dreariest winter days. It had taken him a while to get better, and much as Caleb doted on him, much as he fretted over his wellbeing- the stronger Ollie got the sadder Caleb became. He’d grown a little too attached. A little too fond. The thought of him leaving opened up a yawning chasm inside Caleb’s chest, something terrible and hungry, and he didn’t- he didn’t know how he was meant to let him go.

And there was another thing about Ollie, too.

He was a witch.

Caleb had been a little afraid when he’d first learned, but curiosity had quickly overtaken the fear and he’d begged and pleaded to see the magic and had bombarded the other boy with questions, his eyes lit up with sheer, unadulterated joy. Ollie’d been a little confused that Caleb hadn’t been one too- he’d said something about how he could feel it. Feel the magic. But Caleb wasn’t and never had been a witch, never would be, and the little experiments Ollie tried went to prove that.

There was a part of him that was still worried, but not in the sense that he believed Ollie was any sort of scary, evil creature. Everyone knew that those with magic would end up dead, executed by the guard if the people around them didn’t get to them first. Harboring a witch.... well. Caleb was sure nothing favorable could come of that being discovered, but he wasn’t sorry, and he didn’t want Ollie to leave.

Hadn’t, at least, until he’d let Ollie journey to the creek to catch a few fish for their dinner and he came back hurt.

A smaller- scale attack this time, and a fought he’d won, but there was a slash on his neck that was still gushing blood, too much, and something--

Something happened to Caleb.

Something weird.

It had started with his jaw, with his teeth. Started with something shifting and rearranging, growing sharper, serrated. And his eyes, going a milky- blue and glowing, and his skin--

“I’ll kill them,” He spat. “I’ll kill them all, they touched you, they hurt you-” He was shaking, that fucked up, flaky- thick- scaly- distortion spreading up from his nailbeds, nails gone long and curved and inky black, and it was taking over his hands, spreading up his arms-  if he’d thought to focus on it, he would’ve realized the same thing was happening to his feet, patchy scales taking over his skin. Changing.

He’d never felt that sort of fury. The kind of anger that sang hot through every vein in his body, casting a hazy red- hot veil over his vision, the kind of anger that made him lust for blood. There hadn’t been a single part of him that hadn’t wanted to give in to it, sink further into that mindless, furious hunger, and fucking devastate whatever monster had done this to Ollie. To his Ollie. His witch.

But Ollie was there. There, with his hands cradling Caleb’s face, warm flesh overtop Caleb’s clammy scales, having spread upwards to form patches along his cheeks. There with wide eyes filled with something inexplicable and a voice that was warm and honey- sweet even against the backdrop of whatever horrible inhuman noise was coming from Caleb’s throat as he shook and envisioned the bloodiest of deaths for whoever’d laid a hand on Ollie.

He was saying something. Something to the extent of It’s okay, probably, or calm down. Something like that. Something that Caleb didn’t hear overtop the sound of that furious, snarly, clicking- high- pitched chirpy noise he’d been making, but something that his mind and body registered nonetheless.

It started in his teeth again this time, but in reverse. Slowly. His vision grew sharper and his skin began changing, nails began receding, vocal cords twisted and changed once more until all that he was was a boy that looked like a human, teary-eyed and keening over this injured witch he’d wanted so desperately to care for. 

“Ollie,” He said, brain fuzzy and unwilling to process whatever it was that had just happened. “Ollie. You’re hurt. Let me- let’s go inside, please, I need to take care of you. Please, Ollie. Please. Please.” And, perhaps in the interest of preventing another episode, or perhaps just because the man really was bleeding out and looking rather unsteady on his feet, Caleb had gotten his way.

He’d applied pressure and frantically, fretfully fetched ingredients for a poultice, one that Ollie had imbued with magic before he’d passed out, and Caleb hadn’t taken his eyes off him since. Or his hands off of him. Or legs. He’d carried him from the bed to the chair by the fire because his skin had felt cold, colder than normal, and he hadn’t thought twice about crawling up into his lap and curling around him while he slept. Just sleeping. A heavy sleep, one he apparently wasn’t interested in waking from- but from here, Caleb could press his ear to Ollies chest and feel his heart beating. He could slip his fingers beneath his shirt and feel it beating if he wanted. He could hear and feel every inhale the witch took, each little noise he made in his sleep, could keep track of the way his lashes flickered or his lips twitched as he dreamt. Could take in the scent that belonged solely to him, faint as it was beneath the copper tang of blood that clung to him no matter how carefully Caleb had cleaned him and the bitter- sweet aroma of the sticky mishmash of herbs slathered on his skin beneath the bandage.

It had been hours of this, now. Hours of Caleb mumbling and begging the sleepy witch to be okay. Hours of him petting his messy curly hair and brushing careful fingers across his perfect cheekbones. At some point Caleb’s legs had gone numb, knees squeezed in the chair on either side of Ollie’s hips and his lower legs squished beneath his own weight, but they could fall off for all he cared. He wasn’t leaving. Couldn’t. He’d thought about it once, just in the interest of making soup for whenever Ollie woke, but he’d started shaking again and his heart had started pounding and he’d pressed his nose against Ollie’s collarbone and tried not to let it happen again. That thing, from earlier.

Whatever it was.

He was still there, now, though his face had shifted slightly so that his cheek was pressed against Ollie’s shoulder. If he’d been any less on guard, he would have fallen asleep long ago, lulled by the warmth and comfort of being close. He was still idly running his fingers down Ollie’s arms, but at some point- he wasn’t sure when and wasn’t inclined to examine it or stop- he’d started pressing little barely- there kisses to the bandage that covered a wound that would have killed a lesser man. Would have killed a human. A wound that would leave a scar that only magic and intent would ever take away. And kisses that wandered elsewhere, too, to his jawline, to what little of his throat was left unmarred, to his collarbone. Maybe a nibble there, but Ollie wasn’t awake to know or care- or. Oh. Maybe he was. 

Cal should have bitten him forever ago if that would do the magic trick of waking him up, he thought, though he knew it was doubtful such a little thing had been the cause of the end of Ollie’s great slumber and was likely just coincided with it.

Perhaps he should be worrying, now, as the shallow breaths of sleep deepened into those that accompanied wakefulness. Perhaps he should keep his lips to himself. Give the man a bit of space, pretend to be a decent and respectable person. Instead, he dragged his nose along the underside of Ollie’s jaw, inhaling shamelessly before pressing another pointed but oh- so- gentle kiss to the bandage that covered Ollie’s wound. “How are you feeling?” He rumbled, voice husky, just a tang of that something other marring it again. Something not human.

He wasn’t a witch, but he wasn’t a human, either.

But that wasn’t his focus right now. He tried to regain control of his thoughts again, tried to reroute his focus away from how close he’d come to losing Ollie.

“Are you hungry?” He asked, scoring his nails down Ollie’s arms slightly without ever turning to look at him. “Thirsty? Does it hurt? I’ll get you something. Anything. Just tell me what you need. Please.”

#ic: caleb #ft. ollie #calliver #v: makin' magic

[rt8815]

OC Ask Game

I was tagged by the amazing @illegalcerebral

I put a Keep Reading link because this is looong.

1) Name (and why you chose it if you like) McKinley Campbell Durand. I named her after McKinley Morganfield, better known as Muddy Waters. However, the “in universe?” reason that will be given - which I haven’t written yet - is that McKinley and Campbell are family names from a few generations back.

Campbell comes from the Gaelic words for ‘crooked’ and ‘mouth.’ I just like the name. Here’s a post (that I had to rewrite because Tumblr’s a dick and wouldn’t let me edit the typos in the original. The rewrite had typos too! Blargh!) that discusses her first and last names. I thought it would be funny for her full name to consist solely of last names.

2) Fandom and how they fit into the story Criminal Minds. She works at a D.C. museum practically around the corner from the J. Edgar Hoover building (as indicated in “Let It Bleed”). That’s a tiny hint that it’s the National Museum of African American History & Culture, but I don’t think I’ll mention it very often, if for no other reason than I’ve never been to the NMAAHC and don’t want to describe it inaccurately.

The official story is that Spencer and McKinley met at the museum (again, in “Let It Bleed,” which is probably the least favorite thing of mine that I’ve written). However, they’d met once before, and texted a few times after that. Because my brain is all over the place, and because I’m telling the story in non-chronological order, I haven’t written their first meeting yet. The only details I’ve revealed thus far are that it was nighttime in a park, McKinley caught Spencer off guard and made him fall to the ground, and whatever they talked about set Spencer straight and lifted his spirits. Also, a swingset was involved. Beyond that, I’ve inserted McKinley into the plotlines and events of the show, with necessary alterations, and there’s a ton of domestic Spencer and off-duty team stuffs.

3) Do they have any family? Biological family: daughter Sophie and son Jason; her Mom (no name yet); maternal grandparents, uncles, aunts, and cousins; and her estranged father (no name yet). Chosen/found family: husband Spencer; the BAU.

4) As a child, what did they want to be when they grew up? When she was a toddler, McKinley wanted to be a pediatrician (a doctor just for kids?! Cool!) or an ophthalmologist (she’s worn glasses practically her whole life). As an older child she aspired to be an entomologist or herpetologist. In her teenage years she considered a career in forensic pathology or criminal psychology. While earning her BA in English, she discovered that Public History was her true calling.

5) Their greatest dream To be a good Mom. To inspire learning in others.

6) Their worst nightmare Losing her family; having to see her father again.

7) Strengths Empathy, insight/self awareness, forgiving nature but knowing when to cut her losses

8) Weaknesses McKinley struggles with imposter syndrome.

She can be very mean. I mean, downright nasty cruel, verbally. This is rare though because, and I’m paraphrasing a future bit of dialogue here, anyone whose behavior could arguably warrant such a response is beneath her notice and not worth the effort. She’s more likely to close the door on someone. When she’s removed a person from her life, she is done. They become literally nothing to her. McKinley will rightly claim that this is about self-preservation and boundaries, but she really takes it to the next level.

9) What would they chose between: morning and night, sweet and savoury, beaches or meadows, cities or countryside, winter or summer, Christmas or Halloween (sorry, Spencer!), movies or TV shows, action or rom-com, clowns or vampires, stars or the moon (both!), cocktails or pints [Neither. McKinley doesn’t care for cocktails or beer. Scotch, brandy, rum, and dry wines are her poisons. She’s been known to add Kahlúah to vanilla ice cream, Baileys Irish Cream to coffee (she wants to try Drambuie next), or make hot toddies when she has a cold (obviously not mixing any alcohol with any medicine)]

10) How do they relax? Reading, or having Spencer read to her; knitting; listening to her records or playing her guitar; exercising with Boogie so she’s exhausted enough to sleep that night; baking and cooking

11) What makes them angry? Injustice, apathy/indifference, ableism, willful ignorance

12) What makes them afraid? The awful things she’d possibly do under duress; her family getting hurt or worse; spiders and other bugs that bite and/or sting

13) What is a moment from their childhood that has shaped who they are? It’s not a single event, but growing up with an abusive parent has certainly had a lifelong impact on McKinley. You’ve heard the expression “once bitten, twice shy?” She’s “once bitten, there’s no twice because you no longer exist.” She’s working on that. It’s also cultivated empathy, though, and is part of the reason she volunteers in the hospital’s rehab wing.

14) Do they have a sense of humour? Intellectual humor, pop culture references, puns/Dad jokes, science jokes. Sometimes morbid.

15) What do they value in their friends/loved ones? Honesty and empathy

16) Do they have any pets? An Aussie Collie/Border Aussie named Boogie-Woogie. He’s her first child.

17) Worst memory? Probably the day Meadows shot her and she thought she’d never see Spencer and Penny again.

18) Best memory? The days Sophie and Jason were born. Minus, y’know, the agonizing pain of labor and delivery.

19) Do they have any tattoos? (If no would they get one?) Nope and nope

20) If you could write them into another fandom, which one would you choose? If I knew the MCU better, I’d love to write her in as a Stark Tower employee! She’d be an anthropologist and would study alien societies the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. have encountered. She’d naturally be drawn to Loki, initially in a professional capacity (they quickly discover they relate to each other on a personal level as well).

He’d first find her annoying: “Why are you pestering me, Mortal? Surely you’d rather interview my oaf of a brother?”

“No, not even remotely. He only ever wants to discuss battles he’s won. There’s so much more to Asgard and the other realms than that. I want - I need - to learn your literature, your science, your culture and history. You’re well versed in all of these subjects and you’re an excellent teacher.”

He stares at her impassively over his mug of tea, but his heart - that Judas of an organ - flutters slightly at the compliment. And how can he say no to a fellow scholar?

“I prefer your company to Thor’s too. You have this calming presence. Thor’s sweet but he’s also obnoxiously loud and brash and he always hugs me even though I keep telling him I don’t like it. And he’s constantly swinging his hammer around, which makes me think he’s overcompensating for something.”

Loki nearly chokes on his tea. Yes, this mortal is considerably more tolerable than others.

“Very well. Friday evenings at 6:00, my chambers. Arrive late and suffer my wrath.”

From that day forward, whenever Thor tries to hug her, he gets mildly electrocuted.

Did I accidentally sorta kinda write a drabble? Would anyone be interested in making this a collab? That’s what they’re called, right? (Can you tell I’ve given this some thought? Haha! I have even more details in my head.)

21) Do they like their job? (What else would they do if they could?) She loves it! Hmmm, what else…? A librarian maybe. Or animate and produce an educational cartoon series.

22) What is their sexuality? Demisexual

23) Do they believe in love at first sight? Soulmates? One true love? McKinley believes in “seeing the potential for a good relationship at first conversation.”

Yes, although she feels that term has become overused and poorly redefined.

People can find love again after it’s been lost.

24) What music do they listen to? Has that changed over time? I actually recently answered an ask about this. Yes, she grew up on what passed for country in the ‘90s. God help her, she had a boyband phase in junior high.

25) Can they cook? What food do they love? McKinley does pretty well in the kitchen. She loves a wide variety of food. She grew up in the south, so tons of carbs/comfort foods. She loves Thai, Japanese, and Indian food. She cooks up Middle Earth-inspired dishes (ha! nerd). She’s especially proud of a seed cake she bakes.

26) What are their hopes for the future? For her family to be healthy, safe and happy. To be debt free.

27) How do they react to being threatened? It’s a coin flip. McKinley might curl up like an armadillo and hope the predator gets bored and leaves, or she might kick the stool out from under them and cause their chin to slam into the bar and crack several teeth.

28) What is their love language? McKinley and Spencer both exhibit the Acts of Service love language, because just saying “I love you” isn’t enough. You ought to show it. She’ll randomly bake doughnuts for Spencer or play guitar for him in bed, and he’ll take care of laundry, dishes, and any other chores he sees need doing.

Quality Time is important for them too. Once a month, Luke and Penny babysit so Spencer and McKinley have a day alone together. It doesn’t really matter what they do. The point is it’s just them.

It caught McKinley by surprise how much she enjoys physical affection, given that she can be touch averse but holy moly she was more touch starved than she realized. She lives for snuggles and makeout sessions and playing with each others’ hair. When one of them doesn’t want to be touched, they hook their pinkies together.

29) What do they find most challenging in relationships? At work? In general? At work she struggles to gain her colleagues’ respect (think “Boy Genius” treatment except she has lady bits). In general, she struggles with trusting people.

30) What do you as a creator love best about writing this character? Giving her everything I wish I had but don’t.

Bonus: Include a link to your favourite work with this OC or write a small drabble.

October 12, 2021

Warm sunlight filtered through the curtains, gently rousing Spencer from a pleasant sleep. Just when he’d decided to get up, he felt the mattress dip behind him and his wife’s breath fanning over his ear.

“Who’s the birthday boy?” whispered McKinley.

Spencer smiled softly but feigned being asleep.

“Who’s the birthdaaay boooy?” she repeated, bouncing slightly.

“The good-looking guy to your left?”

“Happy Birthday!” she laughed, pressing kisses along his neck, suddenly shifting the mood from playful to sexy.

“Would the birthday boy like his birthday present?” she asked as she lifted the covers.

“Well, look at that - it’s already unwrapped!”

#oc appreciation #writing games #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x oc #oh god it's 03:15 why am i still awake? #why do i do this to myself #sleepy time for Rubes now

[troublesmade]

misc. asks / always accepting 

anon asked: headcanons about leo and the seven?

Okay, so I’m just going to be making bullet points for what I’ve thought of so far without anyone’s version of the muse in mind. These will be generalized, so here we go. 

On the Argo II

- It’s not hard for him to find himself alone, the odd man out. He escapes to the engine room a lot because of this, while the couples make him feel so awkward. He’d instead focus on anything but being around them just to not think about it and how it stings. He loves Piper, Jason, and Hazel, but that time was the worst and made his stomach churn if he was with them and not planning shit or fighting. 

Piper 

- Before he lost his mom, he never thought of having a sibling seriously. It only came to mind once or twice, but after her loss, he thought it would have been nice to have that relationship to have someone to lean on and to be needed. After years of nothing but empty relationships, Leo would finally find this in Piper. He’d do anything for her if she so much as asked as the first person he’s fully trusted in such a long time.

-Piper is the second person to know and accept that he was trans, and she was the first person he’s confided in of his own choice that he barely had an interest in dating the opposite gender, preferring guys by a wide margin. 

- She is only one of two that knows Leo’s full name. The only one of the seven to know the name he straight-up hates unless you’re very important to him. 

- They are the one that spends the most time with the other outside around camp whenever possible. The two hanging out is to be expected, and no one thinks twice about it after a few months of it when they weren’t in panic before and after the Argo II’s voyage. 

- Along with Hazel, she was the first person Leo and Nico came out to as dating each other a while after the two were serious. 

Jason 

- While it was a lie at first only made for convenience with the mist, the two had actually become friends while Leo, Piper, and Jason went on their first quest at Camp Half-Blood. After that, their relationship grew, becoming more like what the mist made him think initially that ended in the two being best friends with Jason only second to Piper. 

- Leo finds Jason very attractive, but he’d never admit that out loud even if asked. He’d prefer to pretend like nothing’s up, that nothing like that exists. 

Annabeth 

- The two can either get along really well due to their similar behaviors and way of processing and seeing the world, or they will get on each other’s nerves. It’s fifty-fifty to where it will go whenever the two talk and interact with each other.

- It takes Leo a while not to be completely intimidated by her, and even then, during their time on the ship, he had moments where he slipped back into that feeling. 

- When the two cooperate and work together on a project, they are unstoppable, a force to be reckoned with. On the ship, Annabeth is the only one of the seven he respects and holds a high opinion of when it comes to thinking on their feet that differs from the other five. They’re way more technical, and Leo respects that about Annabeth. 

- When the two become adults and get to working together for the city in progress they become better friends and get along way better than they ever have before.

Hazel 

- At first, he thought she was very weird, always looking at him like a ghost with such disbelief. Her deep stare was unnerving in a different way than what Annabeth’s we. Always asking him if he was Sammy made him worry if she was okay since he had no idea who Sammy was and had never seen her. 

- Before the confusion as to who he was came up, the first thing that struck him was how genuinely beautiful she was to him. Her eyes her best feature in his book, the thing that made it hard to keep his heart from going wild whenever he was around her and looked into them. She was one of the rare women he had a genuine crush on. 

- It took him a bit to get completely over her and stop thinking of her with affection in all verses where he moves on for one reason or another. It was not so easily snuffed out on their long quest, taking months and months later when coming back to camp for the final time. 

Frank 

- The two had a begrudging friendship near the end. The two still aren’t all that close but work well enough with each other at the drop of a hat. Like in canon, most of their issues straight up come from Hazel and two very different approaches to life. The road to being okay with each other took a lot but meeting as a group after the journey was a memory helped. 

- Only after the last fights to end the war and everything that came after did Leo start forming more and more respect for the guy. If you ask Leo about his feelings about Frank once things get settled, and the two get time to be around each other, he’ll tell you he’s learning to love the guy and thinks highly of him. 

Percy 

- The first Perseus was always the story his mom told him over and over again, quickly becoming his favorite hero. After all, the original accomplished what he sought out to do, blessed by the gods and only helping people on his journey, things were left better off without destruction following, and he had a happy ending. That, on top of all the talk of him at camp, brought him up too high in Leo’s mind, thinking the guy was better than he actually was. No more than a legend that actually meeting only brought eventual disappointment. 

- Their first meeting ended in his head being bitten off, the two never spent time with each other on the ship or one on one like Leo had with the others. None of this helped the image Leo was then forming in his mind. 

- After learning about what had happened with Calypso, being forgotten and pushed aside without proof she had been freed was a further tear in the image. It gave him less reason to trust the guy, he’s not okay with the knowledge he gained from visiting her island and Percy has yet to earn any real sense of Leo thinking of him as a decent person. 

- In my verses where Nico and Leo are dating, the perception took an even more significant blow. This one was way harder to ignore or forgive as Percy barely treated Nico right. Learning everything that happened only made him angry and pissed off that someone could help so much and stir up anger and earn no meaningful thanks from it. Everything Percy held onto for the mistakes Nico made still trying to help as a kid, not even a teen, makes him sick. After gaining this knowledge Leo will straight-up avoid Percy, not making eye contact, never getting too close or leaving when he’s around. 

#stories better left untold (headcanon) #long post for ts /// #long post //

[boldmistakes]

white beaches & northern lights (seblaine, 1/1)

summary: In the years since the world got totally fucked by an apocalypse of the infected, Sebastian Smythe had created a new reality which operated on two very simple principles. One was survive. The other was keep Blaine safe, no matter what. Unfortunately, leaving the failing safety of a Quarantine Zone would put these goals to brutal test. [Zombie!AU in The Last of Us verse] [~12k] [A03] warnings: well, it’s zombies! violence, gore, death, past child death, dismemberment notes: a WIP from last year for seblaine sunday’s zombies prompt for oct. 8th, polished up and posted to prove i’m not dead! set in the ‘verse of the amazing game the last of us, where the zombies are caused by a fungal infection with various stages -- more details at AO3.

--

“We need to get out.”

Blaine nodded. Down on the street, a sobbing woman was forced to her knees by a soldier and shot. Sebastian reached out, tugging Blaine away from the window.

“You don’t need to see that.”

“Don’t I?” Blaine asked. “Shouldn’t someone?”

Sebastian cottoned on. “Plenty of people saw that. Have seen that.”

“It doesn’t count if you don’t care.” Blaine’s troubled gaze slid away, and then, slowly, he said, “I don’t want to stop seeing.”

“You won’t.” Sebastian ached to extend his reach, to wrap an arm around Blaine, hold him ... but Blaine still wore that ring. A barrier as sure as the walls of the Quarantine Zone they lived in -- and just as much of an illusion of safety, if you asked Sebastian. “C’mon. Let’s pack.”

“Okay.”

Blaine didn’t move, and Sebastian tugged again, more insistent. Blaine went, but it didn’t feel like acquiescence. Sebastian grit his teeth against it, and with teasing and reassurance in turn he managed to get Blaine to pack up his meager possessions. He didn’t comment when Blaine picked up a blood-stained felt rabbit and pressed it to his face, politely turning his gaze away. These were little things Sebastian knew how to navigate since Everything, Then, The End Of The Fucking World and Its Fucked-Up Sequels, whatever you wanted to call it. In today’s world, you made your own reality, and Sebastian ...

Sebastian had designed his with Blaine in mind. He’d had no other choice.

--

The QZs were supposed to protect them, but well, put armed maniacs in charge of keeping the peace and shit inevitably hit the fan. Armed resistances sprang up in return, Fireflies and riots and crazy-rage fires sweeping whole districts, with anyone not feeling suicidal stuck in the middle as they tried to make a living in a dying city.

Back in the Everything-Then-End Of The Fucking World, the QZs had been a beacon of hope. Relative safety from the infected, shelter, heat, supplies. Everyone had flocked to their promise. Sebastian had too, after a hellish time searching for signs of life in his family, his boyfriend, his sanity because fuck , these things weren’t supposed to happen.. Had heaved a sigh of relief when he’d seen the razor wire-and-concrete protections.

Then he’d had to take that breath again when he’d come across Blaine Anderson, of all people, in a rations line. Blaine, and Kurt, and their daughter, a little sweet thing. Old grievances were put aside so they could protect each other. Solidarity through circumstance, or maybe growing up, or maybe need before want. It had worked, for a while. Then, with time, with the hunger and the slips in the barriers and rising death counts, with the chaos of trapped animals chewing at their legs, it became just Sebastian and Blaine and his daughter.

Then just Sebastian and Blaine. Alone together.

That was years ago, but Blaine had never quite recovered. Always seemed to have a foot in another world, a world where likely his husband and daughter were still alive. His own reality to help him survive, and Sebastian couldn’t blame him. Who didn’t fantasize about an escape? Well. Not Sebastian. He had always accepted things as they came. That was probably why Blaine had once called him heartless.

(“You just don’t … care. ”

Blaine hadn’t even been angry. )

It was good Sebastian was cold. It was good he knew to be ruthless. It was what had kept the two of them alive.

So what if he told himself Blaine appreciated it, deep down?

--

They left come dawn, sneaking out through tunnels Sebastian had learned smuggling. There was no legal exit from a QZ. So desperate to keep the human race alive you weren’t even allowed to be suicidal -- or, as Sebastian had once heard it, a pioneer .

Nothing new left to find now, though. Just relics, modern history in frozen tableaus.

Sebastian had been as far as the furthest outlet mall out west before, but now they were headed south, needing warmer climates. He kept an eye on the world around them, suspicious of the unfamiliarity, even though he must have walked up this cracked blacktop highway years ago to get to the QZ in the first place. His own car might still be stalled somewhere along the hundred mile winding stretch of it, like all the other stripped cars scattered over the road like abandoned toys.

(“The cow goes moo, the piggy goes oink, the bunny goes -- uh -- hop?” )

Sebastian grabbed Blaine’s hand as Blaine started to lag, long days spent lying in his bed staring at the ceiling punishing him now. Blaine stayed at their hands but said nothing, didn’t grip back. Not a surprise, but Sebastian still frowned. Turned his eyes forward. Kept alert. The only time he let go was when they had to separate to climb over a car, but then they’d reunite, the bridge of their arms a tether -- and though Blaine faltered, he never stopped.

They didn’t speak. The only sound was their footsteps, the rustle of their bags and gas masks against their hips, the sounds of nature reclaiming wild space in whistling calls of wind and bird, the whir of insect activity, the occasional coyote howl.

It was … nice. Nicer than Sebastian had expected, since he’d stuck to more travelled pathways before. The greenery was alive, flowers bursting ripely, bushes hanging heavily with berries, the air fresh and sweet the way it had been in the dull Ohio springtime, driving past green fields. There was also nobody around for miles, infected or otherwise.

“It’s good,” Sebastian told Blaine, as they passed by a burnt-out husk of a gas station whose lettered sign read SURVIVORS INSIDE. “You can’t trust anyone who lives outside the walls. Total maniacs.”

“We’re going to live outside the walls,” Blaine said after a moment.

“Yeah.” Sebastian hefted a shoulder. “And I wouldn’t advise anyone to trust us either.”

Blaine’s gaze flicked back at the gas station, and he frowned.

“That’s a terrible thing to say.”

“Me, then.”

“Still terrible.”

“I’m not trustworthy.”

“I trust you.”

Sebastian smiled at that. “Well, you’re the only one who should.”

Blaine nodded slowly and looked away. “Do you trust me?”

That surprised Sebastian, who paused them a moment, the sun warm on his back as he turned, tipping Blaine’s chin up with his free hand.

“Of course I do. Who else?”

Blaine smiled, and for a second he could be seventeen again, their first meeting, sweet and faraway from here. Then it faded, his expression undone, and Sebastian set them walking once more, brutally smothering any disappointment.

Those smiles had never been for him, anyways.

--

For a long time they were just … walking.

They slept during the hottest parts of the spring days, in shifts, then doing most their travelling at night, their flashlights doing the work where the moon failed them. If either of them had been afraid of the dark before, they’d gotten over it by getting a crash course in what went bump in the night during the whole apocalypse thing, and there was something refreshing in a world of caution about being fearless as they wandered. Old country roads gone to weed or major highways whose lights had long since gone out, it was all the same, just a path. In the blackest nights when the moon was gone and the clouds heavy and they couldn’t even really see each other, they still had the warm grip of their joined hands, and that was as good as roadsigns for Sebastian.

Since they had no real destination, it was, as high school motivational posters might have said, all about the journey.

(Sebastian had a silly fantasy about a white tropical beach somewhere, coconut and crab, just the two of them, but it hadn’t been a reality when planes existed so it was even less likely now.)

Sometimes people said the cold stopped the infection in its tracks. Sebastian thought that was bullshit; the only thing proven to help was gas masks to keep out the pollen and amputation of any area that had been bitten or scratched -- and the latter was heavily debated. It was, he felt, and Blaine agreed, better not to freeze your ass off in snows and ice just because you thought Canada sounded neat .

“If we make good time we should avoid this winter,” Sebastian said over dinner (or rather, breakfast) of squirrel stew that night.

Blaine nodded, and abruptly said, “I’d never want to do an Ohio winter without a house.”

“Definitely not.”

“It makes you think about homeless people,” Blaine continued, stirring his stew slowly. Sebastian hoped that wasn’t a commentary on his cooking; skinning something cleanly was harder than it looked, even with how good he’d gotten with a knife. “How hard it would have been for them.”

“Technically, we are homeless,” Sebastian pointed out. He paused, then laughed. “Christ, now there’s an idea that would have made a younger me actually cry.”

Blaine laughed too. Sebastian’s smile grew wider. “I can’t see you crying.”

“I’m sure it happened once or twice, not that I can remember.”

“Uh-huh …” Blaine took a bite, chewed, and there came the overcast shadow to his unusually bright expression; Sebastian sighed and returned his attention to his own food.

That was definitely gristle. Sebastian made a face, flicking it into the flames.

The fire cracked, pop. Threw embers. The light of it gleamed on Blaine’s wedding ring that slid down his finger, sized for more well-fed times. Blaine was terrified of losing it, and Sebastian was startled to realize Blaine slept with his hand curled in a fist to protect it. Before, they’d had separate bedrooms, and that door was always closed to him. Now, under the sun and stars, there were no secrets.

“You could put it on a chain, you know.”

Blaine blinked at him. “What?”

“The ring,” Sebastian said. “Your ring.”

Blaine offered his hand out. “It’s a wedding ring.”

“It being on the ring finger was a bit of a tip-off, yes.”

“Then you know I can’t take it off.”

“It’s not like I’m suggesting you toss it,” Sebastian said. “Just … move it elsewhere.”

Blaine returned to eating, shaking his head. “No.”

“C’mon,” Sebastian said. “It could be like -- closer to your heart. Whatever.”

“It’s a wedding ring,” Blaine snapped. “It stays on the ring finger. Discussion ended.”

“Fine,” Sebastian ground out, “don’t come crying to me if you lose it.” Blaine flinched, and Sebastian instantly felt like a jackass. “Hey, I didn’t mean …”

“I’m going to bed,” Blaine said, setting his half-eaten food down. “The ground. Sleep. Whatever.”

“You just woke up an hour ago --”

“I’m tired.”

With a petulance ill-suited to a man creeping towards forty, he retreated to the softest patch of ground under the tree they’d picked, and rolled over, putting his back to Sebastian. Sebastian shook his head, and though he’d lost his appetite himself, forced himself to continue eating.

He’d choke on as much gristle as it took to be strong enough to survive.

--

A few days later, after a series of thunderstorms that soaked them through and flooded creeks they’d been crossing, shunting their path back to civilization, they came to a mid-sized town -- or maybe village was a better descriptor. There was no sign, so just Nowhereville, West Virginia by Sebastian’s guess -- and it was the first tall buildings they’d seen in awhile, silently agreeing it was smarter to keep to less-travelled paths after a herd of clicker had driven them off their last highway. The sunset was brilliantly red, and felt unnecessarily ominous as it painted the world around them in bloody shades.

“I don’t like it,” Sebastian said, staring at the quiet streets and red-brick buildings. It was like something from a Rockwell. “We should go around.”

Blaine didn’t say anything, or even nod, but he stepped off the main road into the tall grasses that ringed the village, which was sheltered by a wide river on one side, and  a bluff of reddish dirt on the other. Sebastian followed, keeping an eye on the town as it fell to the left behind them. It was a half-hour’s hike to get to the top, legs straining and trying not to slip on the soft dirt, before they finally hit a peak crowned by a short stone wall and a plaque referencing some old Colonial bastard. Sebastian leaned against it as Blaine hunkered down to retie his laces, taking a sip from his water flask, eyes closing briefly.

If they could trust others, this was the kind of place you’d claim. Set up a community, farm the nearby land, take advantage of how naturally defensible it was with the bluff on one side and the river on other. As was, chances were somebody else had had that idea and they were waiting down there like jackals to snag unsuspecting travellers …

“Oh god!”  

There was startling energy there and Sebastian’s eyes flew open.

“What?”

“Look.” Blaine pointed. It only took a breath to spot the problem: down in the town square there was a flurry of movement, still visible in the fading light. A small group was backing away from a rush of runners; one gunshot, two; a runner went down, but then the gunman was hit by an unexpected clicker whose rattling shriek echoed all the way up to where they stood.

Nobody was screaming. They knew better than that; sound attracted more.

“They’re dead meat,” Sebastian reported, watching as the still-living trio rushed to climb on top two cars crushed together, then taking fire at the clicker. Judging by how it kept clawing hungrily after them, they missed. “Terrible aim.”

“We should help,” Blaine said urgently, and Sebastian grabbed his elbow before he could do something crazy.

“We should die, is what you’re saying.”

“Sebastian!” Blaine so rarely said his name; it made Sebastian’s grip loosen, and Blaine jerked away from him.

“Don’t do it --”

He made another grab for Blaine, but he was darting down the bluff, boots kicking up dust as he skidded dangerously fast through red dirt and grass. Sebastian swore, and for a moment that went on far longer than he cared to admit, he contemplated walking away. Finally turning his back on the depressed deadweight he had saddled himself to because, what, they had known each other for all of five minutes in high school and Sebastian liked his ass …

You could be free, something whispered in the back of his head. Relying only on yourself.

“I need someone to watch my back when I sleep,” he said aloud, and it was some old desire to hold onto appearances that sent him skidding down that hill.

He couldn’t be the crazy guy who talked to himself in public. He couldn’t be -- alone -- with his thoughts.

“Christ,” Sebastian muttered when he caught up with Blaine at the bottom of the bluff, Blaine drawing his gun and cocking it. “At least put your mask on. That’s too many for this place to be clean.”

Blaine glared at him. “I’m not stupid.” He tugged his mask on, and Sebastian mimicked him, hiding the roll of his eyes. Then his own gun was in hand as they crept silently around a large old church; the shrieks of the runners and the chittering of the clicker was louder here. They were making good time before a shift on stone announced a runner emerging from behind an overturned car for them; Blaine slammed it in the chin with the butt of his gun, and Sebastian stepped in smoothly with his knife, grabbing the runner’s hair and slamming the blade deep into its rotten, mushroom-filled skull. It choked, then died.

They were alive, in a way. Sebastian never did get over that oddness.

“C’mon,” Blaine said, then set off again. Sebastian dropped the body and followed. They got to the square to find at least seven runners swarming up the overturned cars, grabbing at the threesome with needy hands, cries rising and falling like broken waves. Blaine took a step forward; one of the survivors, a young woman, saw them and screamed.

“Please,” she begged, and then her stomach was torn open.

“Blaine,” Sebastian murmured, reaching for him, but Blaine didn’t need to hear it. He stopped, shoulders slumping, and they silently watched the strangers die. Once the last of their screams had faded, he finally made contact, cradling Blaine’s shaking shoulder.

Time to go. Blaine turned around, and Sebastian couldn’t read his expression through the flat glass planes and dark branching mouthpiece, but he knew him. He offered his hand, and Blaine accepted it, his gun dangling sadly from his other. Sebastian squeezed Blaine’s limp hand, and then they walked off together, carefully skirting the feeding frenzy.

Not that they actually needed to eat you. No, then this whole thing wouldn’t be pointless, would it?

--

They stopped at midday, and Blaine offered to take first watch.

Sebastian lay down in the shade, throwing his arm over his eyes. He tried to sleep, but Blaine was too quiet; Sebastian peeked, and saw that Blaine was sitting there, knees drawn up to his chest, staring off to nowhere as he slowly spun his wedding ring around his finger.

Kurt had lost his before he died; Sebastian had noticed that. He’d pretended not to notice that Kurt had lost it by throwing it at Blaine after a blazing row where Sebastian had lain his bed and felt like he was eight again, listening to his parents build up to their spectacular climax of a divorce.

That was why he had never gotten married. Well, that an inability to hold onto a relationship for more than six months and the end of the world. At least one of those hadn’t been his fault, too.

“You’re thinking loudly,” Blaine suddenly said.

Sebastian lowered his arm. “ I’m thinking loudly?”

“Yes,” Blaine said firmly, then hesitantly continued. “Do you … want to talk about it?”

Must be a good day, then. Or it was just the recent reminder of their mortality.

“I’m fine,” Sebastian said. “Don’t worry about it, tiger.”

Like Blaine needed more to worry about. Like Sebastian had anything to worry about, except for the obvious.

“Okay.” Blaine dropped his hands, and his chin to his knees. “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“Okay,” Blaine repeated. “It’s fine. You sleep.”

Sebastian nodded, and shifted his arm back over his eyes. Sleep still didn’t come, but he tried to think a little quieter, for Blaine’s sake.

--

Weeks passed. Summer was coming in, hot and clinging.

Under the moonlight through an apple grove they spotted a swollen, misshapen giant of a creature that moved in lumbering steps, swarmed by smaller runners and clickers like a queen bee with its hive. A bloater; Sebastian had heard of them, but never seen one. The stage of infection that came before they ended up splattered on the ground somewhere, releasing spores.

“Jesus,” Blaine breathed, once they’d put a hundred yards between them and it.

“I wouldn’t want to have to take that down,” Sebastian said, with great feeling.

Blaine nodded emphatically. “Definitely not.”

They saw bridges collapsed under the weight of too many cars. They saw a small nomadic group living in a graveyard who shot at them when they’d stepped too close; Sebastian had felt a rare thrill of real fear when stone had chipped near Blaine’s head in an explosive spray. After a gunfight they’d gotten away, then saw a towering tree growing through a car in the middle of a highway. They saw rotting runners nailed to trees, still squirming and hissing, and rotting humans swinging from tree branches. They saw a baseball diamond turned to a field of blood-red flowers, swaying gently in the breeze. They saw a lake with a dozen canoes drifting eerily, unoccupied. They saw two clickers melded together in one misshapen thing. They saw a thousand deer, tails white against the night as they ran silently through the grass.

Sebastian saw Blaine smile more. Saw some of that tension slip from his shoulders, saw him actually talking. It came in fits and spurts, a rusty tap needing work, but it was like … it was like Blaine was coming alive again.

“I love this,” he’d even said one night, staring up at the miles of unspoiled starfield. “It’s so beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Sebastian agreed, resettling his backpack. “That’s a plus for no light pollution.”

Blaine smiled. “I’ve always wanted to see the northern lights,” he offered. “It would be easier now.”

Sebastian grinned back. “I think we’re headed the wrong direction for that.”

“True.” Blaine shrugged. “But who knows where life will take us.”

“Yeah, I never would have guessed ‘zombie apocalypse’ myself …”

He’d never called it that before, but at some point, you had to accept the obvious.

Blaine’s eyes widened. “Don’t call it that!”

“What? Why not?” Sebastian squinted back.

“You’re not supposed to,” Blaine explained. “It’s … tacky.”

“Tacky? Did I skip over Miss Manner’s Guide To The Living Dead?”

“Obviously.” Blaine nudged him. “Besides, they don’t eat people. Not really.”

“That’s true …”

“I hate it,” Blaine admitted, tone turning thoughtful. “It’s such a waste. All this death, for nothing.”

It paralleled his own thoughts so neatly that Sebastian had to reach over and wrap an arm around Blaine’s shoulder, pausing their pace through farmfield furrows to half-hug him. Blaine froze, let out a slow breath, then relaxed. Almost pressed himself against Sebastian fully … but then, before long, Blaine pulled himself away.

“We should keep moving,” Blaine said, tugging his backpack strap straight.

“Yeah. Let’s.” Sebastian followed him; Blaine didn’t take his usual grip of Sebastian’s hand, and Sebastian couldn’t quite bring himself to reach out.

It felt like something had shifted, but he couldn’t say what.

--

Summer became fall, their feet ached, and they accidentally walked into a city at twilight because the only other roads had collapsed into impossible-to-traverse canyons of junk and infected just begging to give you either tetanus or a bad case of life after death.

“Should we go around it?” Blaine asked, staring at the concrete jungle with concern.

“It would take too long,” Sebastian said, which Blaine already knew, because he nodded.

“We’ll be fine,” Blaine said, and then moved to climb over the schoolbus blocking the way. Sebastian followed, and they paused on top of its rusted yellow hood, staring out over the miles of stalled and stripped cars. It was like a ship graveyard. Sharing a look, they carefully jumped down and made their way into the heart of the city, weaving through the wreckage. They hadn’t been in a city since the QZ; it was odd to be swallowed up by concrete again. This was greener, though, and falling apart in a way even the most ragged quarters of the QZ never had been. The stink of moss and vines in close quarters, even a deer running by in leaping strides.

There were also no infected and no people, that they could see. A ghost town.

Sebastian stepped a little closer to Blaine, but kept his hands free, one resting on his gun, head turning slowly to listen for any sounds.

Night fell, the moon high and painting deep pockets of shadows that seemed to pulse when you looked at them too long. His foot hit a rock. It bounced and echoed, skittering across the sidewalk. Blaine looked back at him reproachfully, and Sebastian winced in apology. Blaine’s hand was on his gun now, and they picked up their pace while still trying to move silently.

The buildings were getting taller. Spindly skyscrapers, some apartment buildings tipping like a jenga tower mid-fall, stately stone buildings looking unchanged except for end-of-days graffiti and threats. The streets, oddly, were cleaner. Odd was not good. Sebastian gave up on pretense and unholstered his gun, slipping his finger to caress the trigger. They were coming up to a broad four-way intersection, which looked so untouched it could have been the Before if it weren’t for the absence of streetlights and faces and cars. Just wide-open spaces ...

A clatter sounded. Blaine’s head shifted. They stepped aside in tandem, moving into the shadows of an old bank, and then froze at the sight of two men, bearing machine guns, turning the corner. The pair talked quietly, too quietly to be heard, but their bearing was casual. They must not have seen the intruders. Blaine glanced at him, eyes wide, and Sebastian nodded slowly.

Guns like those they hadn’t seen since the QZ either. Guns like those meant resources, and you didn’t fuck with people who had resources unless you had any to give back, and they were down to eating snails. Sebastian had an inappropriate, longing surge for a little restaurant in Paris that he would never see again, and then his mother, overseas with it, and then he and Blaine started to move once the duo had their backs to them. They turned the corner to the opposite direction where the men had come from, and stopped at the sight of an encampment in the street, spilling out from large buildings. Armed adults moved around the barriers, smiling, chatting, faint music even playing.

He’d never been so unhappy to hear Niel Diamond. It left the two of them like deer in headlights.

“Dammit,” Sebastian hissed, and they slowly began to retreat. Except once they turned around, they saw that the patrolling pair were coming back … and then they looked up, and saw them right back.

“Hey! You two!”

“Run,” Sebastian ordered, but Blaine started to raise his hands slowly.

“We just want to pass through,” Blaine called to the men. “We don’t want any trouble.”

“Put your guns down,” one man, a redhead, ordered, after a glance at his bearded friend.

“Don’t do it,” Sebastian told Blaine, his finger tense on the trigger. “Don’t.”

“Only if you lower yours,” Blaine said, ignoring Sebastian without a look at him. “I’ll put mine on the ground, slowly, just please, lower yours too. We can work this out, gentlemen --”

Gentlemen? Blaine was going to get them killed. Sebastian couldn’t see anything, not the guns or the men’s faces or even Blaine. All he could think of was his aching feet, and the comfortable weight of his own gun in his hand. Mouth dry, his arm swung up, and everything zeroed in on the red hole that blasted into one of the redhead’s forehead.

The echo of the gunshot seemed delayed, the second one tripping on it. Both men dropped, and Sebastian grabbed Blaine’s arm as alarmed shouts came from the direction of the camp.

“Sebastian!”

He ran, dragging Blaine along. There was resistance, but it slackened when a burst of machine gun fire chased them to a clear street. Someone was shouting at them, and something split a line of fire across his leg. They ducked around the next corner, and Blaine pointed to an alley; they ran for it, spidering up and over a chainlink fence, another alley, then shouldering up against an ajar red door that tore the pair of them through a blood-stained coffee shop, then out a shattered window. Down the street. Around a corner. The shouting was becoming more indistinct, distant threats that had no words, only intent; Blaine pointed at a mall across the way.

They ran, breath panting, feet setting up a thunderous pattern, Sebastian white-knuckling Blaine’s arm in his hold; more gunfire, shouts, but not close, like hearing a wolf’s howl on a cold night, they needed to get inside -- no time for niceties, Sebastian raised his gun and fired again, shattering a display window in a diamond spray that they leapt through, glass scoring their cheeks and a mannequin sent flying to skid across the oil-slick floor. They didn’t stop, making deeper into the mall, down an escalator, past a fountain that bubbled with a collapsed infected who sprayed spores, couldn’t risk stopping to put on masks so they just held their breath and dived through to the other side, lungs burning, legs burning, everything tense as the hard, rattling breath that begged to escape --

Clear air, but an obstacle; the roof caved in past at least four stories, sunlight streaming down on the mess of beams and plaster and concrete that formed a mountain to block the way forward.

“There!” Blaine said, pointing to a small gap where a beam rested against the wall. Sebastian eyed it doubtfully, but they had no choice -- they both heard an echo --

“There!”

-- in the distance that was no real echo, but the dogs at their heels. They rushed the narrow, dark crack, more an absence than an entrance, and Sebastian tried to nudge Blaine through it first, but Blaine shoved at him instead.

“It doesn’t look stable,” Blaine insisted hurriedly, eyeing the structure; he wasn’t wrong. “If anything moves when you go through, I have more of a chance getting in second.”

That was true. Sebastian moved to the gap, slouching to fit, and Blaine made an impatient sound.

“You have to let go of me!”

Sebastian looked back, unsure, then realized he was still gripping Blaine’s arm. He let go, to see that Blaine’s arm had gone white, a handspan of red marking the boundary where the blood needed to rush out. Sebastian opened his mouth to apologize, but Blaine shoved him.

“Move! ”

Sebastian shook his head, trying to clear his muddled thoughts -- was this even a good idea, he shouldn’t leave Blaine behind, he had to leave Blaine behind, that dead weight -- then moved to slip into the gap. His shoulder brushed the beam; it groaned, shuddered, stopped. Holding his breath, Sebastian inched his way through the gap as fast as he could, feeling his way through the dark.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” he muttered under his breath, fighting the urge to turn back.

Blaine would be fine. They still had time. Sebastian shut his eyes for a moment, and soldiered on, groping out the open side of the gap --

Something grabbed his arm.

Sebastian’s blood ran cold.

“No --”

It bit down on his wrist, nails tearing into his flesh. Growled. Nausea rose.

“ No! ”

Copper exploded across the tip of Sebastian’s smarting tongue, and he shoved himself through the final bit, tackling the creature that was making work of him, his fingers twitching weakly as nerves severed. They fell to the ground in a tumble that smelled of mildew and death, and Sebastian reared back, pistol whipping the thing across its forehead. The flesh split and poured yellow-black, but it still didn’t release his wrist, and Sebastian aimed the gun, tugged the trigger --

The creature shifted. The bullet went through Sebastian’s mutilated hand and exited out the back of the infected’s skull, blowing an ugly splatter up behind its head. Sebastian exhaled, the edges of his vision going black for a moment, then tried to tug his hand free. It took two tries, and then Sebastian fell back, looking around frantically as he pressed his arm to his chest.

No more infected. But he was -- he was --

“Sebastian!”

Blaine was there, grabbing him.

“What the hell happened --”

“Are they behind us?” Sebastian asked, swaying briefly despite Blaine’s hold on him, the whole world swaying like the earth was buckling.

“Yes, we have to -- no, you can’t -- fuck --”

Blaine let go. Sebastian continued to move with the ocean he’d suddenly found himself in, and kept moving, until pain flared dully along his side as he hit the ground. A flurry of gunshots splitting the air, a loud rumbling -- god, was this really an earthquake? -- and then Blaine was back, grabbing him and hauling him up.

“Get up, Sebastian,” he ordered, voice as cajoling as the one he’d used on his daughter, all those years ago, Sebastian watching them together and so sure Blaine had been destined to be a dad, one of those things Sebastian had never wanted for himself, the ways their lives were never meant to align -- “Get! Up!”

That was more drill sergeant, or maybe coach during practise. Sebastian levered himself up with no conscious decision to do so and Blaine dragged Sebastian’s uninjured arm over his shoulder, wrapping a strong arm around his waist.

“Blaine,” Sebastian managed thickly, then spat blood.

“We’re going to fix this,” Blaine assured him.

“I’m bit,” Sebastian said, and swallowed laughter. “I know it’s not zombies, but Blaine, this is really -- I’m fucking dead.”

“No, you aren’t. I can see the infection, it hasn’t --”

“There’s nothing you can --”

“I don’t believe that!” Then Blaine froze, staring at something; Sebastian blinked eyelids which grew heavier with each thudding heartbeat at the sign declaring a hardware store. An inkling of a horrible idea hit him.

“Blaine, no --”

“We have to.”

Blaine walked them to it, half-dragging Sebastian, who shook his head. That swaying feeling was coming back. He might vomit.

“It’ll be cleared out,” Sebastian said weakly.

“I’ll find something.”

“I’m not sure …”

“I can’t lose you,” Blaine snapped, and his tone was still hard, hard enough to break something in Sebastian, who stopped resisting, let Blaine drag him through the dusty interior that was indeed cleaned out of anything useful. Blaine was muttering under his breath, but Sebastian couldn’t hear anything over the pounding in his ears.

“Blaine …”

“Shh …”

He must have blacked out for a few seconds, yet he was still moving -- what was that smell? Had he thrown up? Or was it something else? Something that smelled like -- engines, his car blew out on the way to a QZ ...

“Sebastian, you can lie down, but you need to hold out your arm. Okay?”

Cajoling, teacher, daddy-voice was back. Sebastian opened his eyes with difficulty, fairly certain the world had spun more since he’d closed them. He was on -- the ground, this was the ground, why was Blaine wrapping a belt around his bicep …?

“Blaine -- what --”

“It’ll be okay.”

“What are you --”

“I just need you to hold still for me, okay, Sebastian, please --”

Sebastian couldn’t move. He hurt too much, blood on fire. He tried to tell Blaine that, but blood and bile bubbled up from his lips instead. Then he saw a gleam in the darkness, bright and cutting, like that damn ring …

Blaine had an ax. Sebastian mangled a cry.

“Blaine, what the fuck --!”

Blaine ignored him. Adjusted his stance. Kissed the ax blade to Sebastian’s arm. God. His arm. The wrist down was mangled red; the wrist up was the pale blue of his veins turning a sick green, climbing higher, interrupted only by laddered torn flesh. A middle-school rhyme came back to him in a distant sing-song: Across the street, not down the road …

“Blaine, stop!”

“I have to -- I’m sorry.”

“You don’t -- don’t --”

Sebastian couldn’t do this. He’d bleed out. Die. He’d survive. Be useless. He couldn’t -- he couldn’t -- that was his arm -- and for the first time ever since the world had fallen apart around him, Sebastian Smythe well and truly panicked.

“No, no, I changed my -- no, stop, Blaine --!”

He tried to jerk away, but he had no strength left. It was like a waking nightmare, frozen, forced to watch the world move around him. Blaine raised the ax.

“I’m sorry,” Blaine said, or shook, voice trembling, as he tightened his grip, knuckles white, that ring. “I have to, I’m sorry --”

No, no, no, this couldn’t be happening, this couldn’t --

“No, Blaine, just let me go --”

“NO!” Blaine was barely anything to him now, blackness stealing what tears welling in his eyes hadn’t, a vague shape beyond his understanding. “Stop moving.”

“Blaine, please --”

“Shh,” Blaine murmured, and his fingers briefly touched Sebastian’s cheek before there was a rustle and a grunt of him lifting the ax again. “It’s okay, shh …”

Blaine swung. Blood sprayed in an arc over both their faces. Sebastian screamed, and everything after that, it wasn’t his to know.

--

He had fevered dreams.

Deer falling to wolves by the thousands, throats torn out, hearts eaten still-beating. Those three people they’d failed to save, getting in one of those beat-up clunkers and driving away, laughing. Kurt, braiding flowers, something about, “For you sweetie --” and his daughter’s laugh, bright and pealing, saying, “Uncle Seb!” the way she’d used to. His mother, falling to the blows of a mob, or maybe just dancing ... Blaine’s voice talking from somewhere too close to be as far away as it sounded, a litany of “I’m sorry”s and “Please don’t leave me”s ... His last boyfriend, blowing skunk-smoke kisses in his face, and then his arm, curled around his own neck, squeezing.

Sebastian woke to a new world.

--

“Sebastian?”

Sebastian experimentally raised his arm, ignoring the wave of blinding pain, feeling as if his fingers were twitching, but seeing nothing but the bizarre stump of his elbow.

“How are you -- how are you feeling?”

Sebastian tried making a fist. He did. He had? He hadn’t. He had nothing to make a fist with. Which was a shame, because he kind of wanted to punch Blaine, and that was his dominant hand.

Had been his dominant hand. Did that make him left-handed now?

“Your fever broke two days ago, I was -- so grateful, you have no idea --”

It must have worked. No sign of infection. He was starving, but he didn’t feel sick. Fever must have done it, scoured him clean, inside-out.

So it seemed the rumours were true. Here Sebastian was, living proof. Living.

“Can you -- can you hear me, Sebastian?”

“Yes, Blaine,” Sebastian said, voice crackling from disuse. He swung his gaze to Blaine, who sat there, hands twisting atop his thighs. “How could I fucking not.”

Blaine stared at him, then down at his lap, mouth working silently. Sebastian, exhausted, slumped back against the dirty mattress he’d woken up on.

“I made soup,” Blaine finally said, quietly. “Are you hungry?”

Sebastian sighed. He was almost beyond hunger, that’s how hungry he was. “Of course.”

“I’ll get you some --!”

“No,” Sebastian said, eyes shutting. “Let me sleep.”

“You need to eat --”

“No.”

“You need to eat --”

“Or what?” Sebastian cracked an irritated eye open to glare at him. “Or you’ll force feed me? Hack off my other arm so I can’t stop you?”

Blaine was silent once more, and Sebastian shut his eyes again. He was half-asleep when Blaine spoke one last time:

“I’m sorry. I had to.”

Sebastian ignored him in favour of satisfying his exhaustion. At least it was simple.

--

The autoshop was big enough, yet it never felt smaller then when Blaine was there.

Sebastian couldn’t look at him, pretended to sleep -- did sleep -- as often as he could to avoid it, staring at the car lifts and the broken-down car (no gas) and the cheerful, faded signs declaring Service with a smile! Free air freshener with each consult! Oil changes done by the best!

He’d had an ego about his car. What guy didn’t? After it had broken down on him halfway to a QZ, he’d walked. He’d walked the soles off his too-expensive sneakers, afraid to stop with the howls of wolves in the air. Only the clothes on his back and ...

His phone and its charger. No service. Kept it alive because games were a good distraction for bored kids. About five years ago, when Blaine was having a fit locked inside their bathroom and needed monitoring, he’d turned the thing on, and played Solitaire until Blaine’s choking sobs died off along with his screen.

And then he’d tossed it. Another relic of a bygone age, useless keepsakes.

“Move it,” he told Blaine, the first words he’d managed in ages.

He was staring at the blood-stained ax, resting near Blaine’s side of the floor. Blaine nodded, and left, hiding it somewhere out of Sebastian’s current realm of invalidity in the shop.

“I should have cleaned it,” Blaine said softly when he returned. “Should have moved it. Should have -- sorry.”

“‘Out, damn spot?’” Sebastian raised an eyebrow at him, challenging. “Like that would help me forget?”

Blaine’s eyebrows snapped down, dark pair to the circles furrowed beneath his eyes, almost inhuman looking in his brief rage, mouth opening, but then he … backed down.

Sebastian swallowed disappointment as Blaine turned tail and fled.

--

They were, essentially, trapped inside the mall.

Even if Sebastian was in a condition to be moved, they couldn’t. They could still hear patrols outside on high-alert after the … incident .. and this end of the mall was closed off. South exit caved in, stores built up against another building to the north, security screens in front of all the windows and doors, elevator defunct, the gap they’d entered through collapsed, and the rising doors of the autoshop could only be opened with power, something in short supply since the collapse of modern society.

At least it wasn’t the worst place to be trapped, just because someone had camped out here for a while, leaving behind rations, a mattress, and a stack of airport novels.

As to the occupant -- well, he had tried to eat Sebastian’s arm.

Sebastian stayed in the autoshop, recuperating, or more honestly alternating between frustration and mind-numbing trance states brought on by reading about the adventures of an intrepid reporter who never seemed to die no matter what situation he ended up in.

“You’ll regret that someday, buddy,” Sebastian muttered, pressing the book to his knees as he carefully turned a page with his free/only hand.

He’d been indulging himself in the crazy-talking-to-himself hobby more. It echoed Kurt’s snide voice in his mind -- “There’s no reason we can’t do the apocalypse in style,” -- Sebastian forced to have his clothes patched with careful hands ...

Fuck. Sebastian could do with a drink. He’d happily be an alcoholic if alcohol wasn’t harder to get than food, these days.

Maybe Blaine would find some as he explored and Sebastian could guilt him into handing it over. Unfortunately, Blaine hadn’t found anything half as fun, just scribbling his findings on a copy of the mall map he’d torn down from an info stand, insisting on going over what meager information and supplies they had ad nauseum.

This was a bunch of ramen, a pack of water bottles, a ladder, a car jack, a pack of cards, a screwdriver broken at the hilt, and that fucking ax.

“We can climb the cave-in,” Blaine suggested, as their food stores grew lower.

Sebastian raised a doubtful eyebrow. “Seems like a two-handed job to me.”

A pointed wave of his amputated arm, which Blaine could never quite look at.

Blaine shook his head. “Right … well, we’ll think of something!”

Sebastian bit back a sharp comment. If Blaine decided to abandon him right now, he’d die, and Sebastian wasn’t keen on that. He’d survived. Now that the damage was done, he could accept there were ways to work around one arm, as long as it meant continuing to draw breath. There was always a way. He’d swallowed that bitter pill long ago.

What he couldn’t take was Blaine’s forced optimism. He’d never had much a taste for hypocrisy.

“Maybe we could use the ladder,” he offered, once he’d reigned in his temper.

“I’ll work on it,” Blaine promised. “Don’t worry.”

Sebastian couldn’t help a side-eye at that, and a frowning Blaine did as he’d so mastered, and left.

--

It was getting colder out.

Sebastian could feel it, left/remaining/only hand pressed against the metal of the garage door, his heat leeching away. Rains came through the hole in the ceiling, washing over the mall floor, and the smell of rotting things only grew stronger.

“We should move before it starts to snow,” he told Blaine.

“I’m trying,” Blaine shot back, then crumpled. “I’m sorry --”

“Stop apologizing!”

“Then what the hell do you want from me, Sebastian!”

“Nothing!”

Blaine shook his head, dismissal painting the lines of his face.

“If only that were true.”

“What’s that supposed to mean --”

“I’m going to go check outside.”

--

Blaine climbed out the hole in the roof. Sebastian watched him go, rubbing his aching, bandaged stump. He didn’t return to the autoshop until he saw Blaine return.

--

Blaine found Sebastian. He looked grim.

“There’s no way down. No fire escape or anything.”

“Great. We’ll scratch that one off the list.”

“You don’t have to take that tone …”

“Tone?” Sebastian snorted. “I’m just being me.”

Blaine stared, then sighed. “Sebastian …”

“Look. We just have to find a way to next door. It must have functioning doors.”

“There’s no way to the other building, I’ve checked …”

“Where there isn’t a door, you make one.”

“Just like that?” Blaine’s shoulders slumped. “Okay. I’ll scout out for a place.”

They had no tools, and those walls were all concrete, but neither of them said anything.

--

Blaine smashed the glass that encased the elevator chute, then used the ladder as a way up to it, climbing the cables to the second floor -- safer than climbing the caved-in section, he said. He had hopes of checking out every floor this way.

Sebastian did aimless circles, taking peeks at his arm. It was healing, no longer the open wound it had once been, but it wasn’t a pretty sight, lumpy and pink and scar-stretched.

“This is why he never went to medical school,” he said to himself, giving it a poke and immediately regretting it as he was swamped with the pain of tenderness.

Blaine came back bearing gifts: a decorative throw and a pillow.

“I found them in a stockroom. Here …”

He went to place them on the mattress Sebastian had claimed, and Sebastian shook his head. The sight of the small comforts filled him with uneasiness, which was irrational, so he tried to smother it. “You should take them. You just have floor.”

“You’re the injured one.”

“I’m healing,” Sebastian said brusquely. “In fact, you take the mattress.”

“No, I can’t --”

“Do it, and I’ll take that hideous pillow.”

“Hideous?” Blaine held it up, staring at the faded pattern of owls curiously. “I think it’s cute.”

“More your style than mine,” Sebastian said, shrugging. It pulled at the skin of his arm, and he winced, rubbing it. Blaine glanced up at the movement, then returned his attention to the pillow, squeezing it.

“You never liked things just for being -- cute? Pretty?”

A memory from a different place, a different time: “Shame about Blaine. He was pretty.” How hard it was to reconcile that carefully put-together Blaine from eons ago with this bearded, armed, and bootcut-jeans one that kneeled before him. Still handsome, of course, and somehow, that made Sebastian’s ever-present anger these days rise sharply to the surface.

“Never was that kind of gay.” Sebastian looked around, deliberately pouring on the scorn as he continued: “I’m sure you’re wishing it was Hummel trapped in a mall with you instead.”

Blaine dropped the pillow, fist curling around the gleam of his wedding band as he jumped to his feet. He rounded on Sebastian, a storm raging behind his eyes.

“That’s low, Sebastian!”

Sebastian didn’t flinch. “But true.”

“I never said that!”

“Yeah, well, I know you. Never needed to say a thing.”

“Right.” Blaine threw his hands up. “So no need to ask. Just assume.”

“Christ. I am not doing this.”

Sebastian turned his back, clumsily running his hand over his face, fingers no-longer-there twitching with the desire to do it more neatly. He kicked at the mattress, biting the inside of his cheek.

“No, we are doing this. I want you to just say it!”

“Say what?” Sebastian whipped back around, stepping into Blaine’s space, glaring down at him. Blaine jerked his chin up, mouth twisting. “What am I not saying?”

They held gazes for a tense, breathless moment, waiting for something to snap, and then Blaine went to speak but -- he was interrupted by a sudden, rattling bang on the garage door. They fell silent, heads turning to stare at the corrugated metal. The room echoed with its begging, bang bang bang, underwritten with a pained moan that echoed up into a shriek. Not human. That was a relief. They stepped apart, no eye contact made, and quietly moved to either side of the room. They settled into opposite corners, trying to ignore the animalistic knocking, Sebastian on his mattress, Blaine leaning against the tool chest, hugging his knees. Sebastian lay down, trying to find a comfortable position, not that he’d been able to in the months since he’d come out of his feverish sleep.

He dreamed of classics class in university, droning over The Velveteen Rabbit to a comfortable weight on his arm, and his last boyfriend, who he’d been just about to dump when the apocalypse had taken care of that by making a monster of him … odd dreams, disjointed, taunting him with promises of understanding ...

--

He woke up in the -- night -- day? -- to an itchy nose.

Groaning, Sebastian reached up to scratch his nose. It didn’t seem to ease it, tugging him more out of sleep, and he opened his eyes. No hand in front of his face -- oh.

It wasn’t like he didn’t know about phantom limb syndrome. His brain really needed to catch up with itself.

Lowering his hand (ish) and kicking the helpless rage he felt, he used his other hand to scratch his nose, then paused as he heard something … skittering? rolling on the ground?

He turned his head, and squinted. Blaine was lying on his side, head pillowed on his arm, eyes just visible in the dim light, tracking back and forth. His hand moved; gold streaked across the ground; his hand moved, batting it back.

The ring. Sebastian shook his head, and went back to sleep.

--

Blaine was glowing with triumph.

“I found a way out!”

“Where?”

“Under the elevator!”

“... What?”

“I was on the fourth floor. There’s a manager’s office there, and there was paper half-burned, I thought it was useless, but it’s actually blueprints. Apparently there’s a service tunnel to next door, on the ground floor of the elevator shaft.”

He pulled out this charred blueprint with a flourish, unrolling it for Sebastian to see. Sebastian nodded slowly as he scanned it; Blaine wasn’t wrong.

“Problem: the elevator is on the ground.”

“Not totally.”

“There’s a few inches, so what? Have a Drink me! potion?”

Blaine pointed with a showman’s flair -- (he didn’t sing anymore, not since his daughter, but Sebastian couldn’t blame him; he couldn’t remember any words himself) -- at the car jack that Sebastian had been using as a footrest. His eyebrows went up.

“Oh.”

“Oh,” Blaine echoed, almost mischievous. “If we can get it up just enough to slip under and open the hatch, we’ll be good. C’mon.”

Blaine grabbed the car jack, grinning, and Sebastian followed, quietly amazed.

--

In rare good luck since they’d entered this miserable place, the plan worked.

They got the elevator up, and Blaine was able to shimmy under and pop the hatch with the ax, after a cautious look at Sebastian, who forced his face even. Once it was open Blaine gazed back at Sebastian expectantly, hopefully, and Sebastian had to smile, though it soon faded.

“We shouldn’t just rush in there,” Sebastian said, crouching outside the gap and staring at the tiny hole.

Who knew what was hiding in that darkness. He was running out of arms to sacrifice just groping around.

“Yeah …” Blaine peered into it, and shone his flashlight. The light flickered; Blaine impatiently gave it a shake until the beam steadied. “There’s a ladder, it goes down, about fifteen feet … looks like spores, too.”

No surprise. They gathered in closed-off areas. Another good reason to avoid small spaces.

“Should throw a rock and see what comes running.”

“I’d rather nothing know where we are …” Blaine looked between Sebastian and the hole, then nodded to himself. “I’ll go in. Scout it.”

Sebastian’s gut gave an awful twist. “No.”

“Sebastian,” Blaine said, uncertainty flicking across his eyes for a second. “I need to.”

“Right. Blaine knows best. I forgot.”

Blaine glared at him, and then shook his head. “I’ll just see if there’s anything down there, and take care of it.”

“You could die.”

Blaine muttered something under his breath -- Sebastian had no idea what, though the tone wasn’t flattering. He wondered if Blaine was cursing him out. How ungentlemanly.

“I could die anywhere,” Blaine said aloud, peering back into the hole. “Anytime. That’s what life is.”

Sebastian reached out to grip Blaine’s ankle, breaking an unspoken boundary they’d refound, a line redrawn as harshly as the first time, when Blaine had screamed “Don’t touch me,” at Sebastian’s attempt to comfort, a little blood-stained felt rabbit between them ...

“Doesn’t mean you should take unnecessary risks.”

“‘Unnecessary risks’,” Blaine parroted, mouth twisting. “I’ll be fine.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“Well, I am.” He’d almost forgotten how damn stubborn Blaine could be. It made his teeth grind. “So I’m doing this, and you can’t stop me.”

“Fine.” Sebastian rolled his eyes, let go. “But remember, if I’m in no position to stop you, I’m in no position to save you, either. Doesn’t matter what I hear.”

Blaine looked him over inscrutably, then shrugged, tone bitter when he replied.

“Fine. I’m not asking you to. Stay here.”

With that, Blaine pat his gun, his knife, tugged his mask on, then shifted around to slip his feet in the hole and climb down. Sebastian watched him disappear a piece at a time, listened to the dull sound of booted feet on the rungs until they faded, and kept his vigil, looking on silently.

--

Nothing for a good long while.

Then --

Was that a distant scuffle?

Some kind of shriek?

Sebastian leaned forward, straining to hear --

A gunshot. Echoing. One. Two. Then no more.

He swallowed, shut his eyes, and started to count.

--

Kurt had died in a random stabbing. No rhyme or reason, never sure who it had been, and Sebastian had broken more than a few fingers trying to find out.

Their daughter had been infected. She’d been discovered, and taken care of. He was sure Blaine had never forgiven Sebastian for not getting her out, but …

He hadn’t known. He’d never known. She’d seemed so healthy, so herself, smiling at him all rosy-cheeked and sweet, listening to his not-at-all child-friendly bedtime stories with shock and awe.

“Daddy, one more,” she’d said, curling chubby fingers around his, gaze pleading. And Sebastian … Sebastian had left. Needed to get to work.

Incredible the kind of cat-in-the-cradle bullshit that could be pulled on you even after the apocalypse. Fuck. He’d never asked for that. Never asked for any of it. Should have left earlier, found himself a nice little abandoned shack in the middle of nowhere and shot anyone who got within a hundred yards of him.

But he couldn’t pretend being too smart to sleep alone was the only reason he’d stuck around. He couldn’t pretend he didn’t …

He was at nearly a thousand mississippi's when he heard footsteps.

--

Sebastian followed Blaine back to the autoshop, a little dazed.

“There were a couple clickers, and one on the wall, but other than that, it was fine … I took care of them. That ax saved my life when I ran out of bullets ... there’s a door on the other side. I had to jimmy the lock but it leads out! To a storeroom I mean, I think it was once a Brooks Brothers actually --” Blaine showed off a bowtie he’d curled around his fist like a bandage, miming a playful punch “-- I couldn’t resist, well, just one more door between us and freedom! We’re set!”

The manic energy was hard to manage after the tension of his wait. Sebastian blinked slowly, rubbing his aching temple, and stared at the cloth-wrapped hand.

“You’re not hurt, are you?”

“Huh? No, I was … well, I hate punching them, I don’t want to get a cut … I was thinking how nice brass knuckles would be but for now wrapping my hands seems good …”

Blaine began to unravel it, continuing to chatter (“-- wish I still had the stuff I used back when I was boxing, that was great, sporting goods on floor three was cleaned out though except for hockey pucks, lots of hockey pucks --”) as Sebastian looked unsurely at their scattered things. Should they leave? It had to be November, at least. They didn’t have much in the way of winter wear. Should they just use the tunnel to get food and come back here, where it was safe?

No. Nowhere was safe. Nowhere was safe. He couldn’t let himself forget --

Blaine had fallen silent, staring down at his now-bare hand. Stomach plummeting and drawing out memories of torn flesh and the cleaving of an ax, Sebastian stared, but he didn’t see any kind of injury.

“What’s wrong ..?”

“I …” Blaine turned his hand over, to and fro, frantically, looking at it like he might tear it off himself. “It’s gone!”

“What’s --”

Blaine’s head darted up, eyes wide and frantic. “I need to go back.”

“What?”

Sebastian grabbed Blaine when Blaine tried to march past him, shaking his head at Blaine’s radiating terror. Blaine stilled, but couldn’t contain his trembling.

“Let me go, Sebastian.”

“What’s going on?”

“My ring. It’s gone.”

Sebastian looked and realized Blaine was right. No ring. Not even really a tan line. Like it had never been there. Sebastian swallowed.

“Blaine …”

“I -- I don’t know what --” Blaine shook his head. “I have to find it.”

“Blaine, it’s --”

“Don’t say just.” Blaine jerked away from his hold, sending Sebastian a sullen look like a starving, mean stray. “Don’t ever say that.”

It sparked something in Sebastian, this implication. That Blaine was the only one standing here, less than he once was. So he did as he’d always done best, and lashed out.

“And what if it’s gone forever? What then.”

“It’s not!” Blaine gave him a shove, propelling himself back, away from Sebastian. “It’s not!”

“But it could be. What then? Are we going to stay here until we starve so you can find it? Sorry, buddy, but dying for a useless hunk of metal isn’t on my to-do list --”

“Shut up!” Blaine hissed. “Why are you being so mean.”

“I’m being realistic! For fuck’s sake, Blaine, I’m the one who told you how to keep it safe! But you didn’t listen --”

“It wasn’t right! I couldn’t -- god, you’d never understand, why would I think you could …”

Sebastian pinned him with a look. “Understand what? Losing things?”

Blaine sucked in a breath, gaze darting to what remained of Sebastian’s right arm, and then his shoulders drew a tight, angry line as they straightened out.

“You think amputation is anything like losing your soulmate?” Blaine asked, and now it was Sebastian’s turn to be shocked, the callousness of the words ugly in Blaine’s normally kind mouth. “To losing your child?”

“Don’t use her like that. Fuck, even he deserves better than that --”

“Like your insults are any better --”

“Maybe not, but -- shit, Blaine, you’re not the only one with family! Loved ones! That’s all of our stories!”

“You love nothing,” Blaine told him, his now-bare left hand unfurling and then slamming into a tight fist over and over, hitting his own chest, eyes growing damp past the hot anger radiating from them. “You have no idea --”

“Fuck you,” Sebastian spat back. “Fuck you and -- you know what? I have done -- everything for you -- we’re only here, alive , for you to yell at me because of all I’ve done --”

“That’s not true!”

“Then what the hell do you think --”

“You’re the one who shot those guys!”

The words rung out, somehow more damning than anything else said so far. Sebastian shook his head, trying to figure out Blaine’s logic.

“What the fuck does that --”

“You shot those guys . And then we had to run, here , and you got attacked, you got us trapped, and it was your fault.”

Blaine didn’t look triumphant, more desperate, as the words landed low in Sebastian’s gut, sure as a hit, making him flinch. He battled a swell of guilt with righteousness.

“I had to!”

“No, you didn’t,” Blaine informed him. “They were going to talk!”

Sebastian snorted. “No, they weren’t.”

“They were lowering their guns!”

Sebastian blinked. No, that wasn’t -- he tried to think back to that day, the moon full overhead, the distant music, the two machine guns. They’d raised them, hadn’t they? The barrel up, the imminent threat, Blaine next him -- god -- Blaine --

“No, they were -- they were going to shoot.”

“They weren’t! I was handling it,” Blaine insisted, a hitch to his voice. “And you -- you went and did that! You murdered them!”

“I had to!”

“Why do you think that!” Blaine ran his hands over his hair. “You think I don’t know that you do these things , but I do, I always have, and I -- I always told myself you had to, but you -- you just shot them --”

“To protect us. Protect you.”

Blaine gripped his curls, mouth turning down, and he stared at Sebastian for several long seconds, tired lines around his eyes standing out all the more starkly. His brows lifted, almost marvelling.

“You really believe that, don’t you?”

“It’s all I have to believe,” Sebastian replied, and the truth of it scared him.

What was he without Blaine?

“But we’ll never know, will we?” Blaine said, shaking his head, hands sliding down to cup the nape of his neck, holding onto himself. “Because you -- you tell yourself this, but when it comes down to it, that’s what you do, you -- I -- that’s not how I want to be protected.”

“Then what the hell do you want?”

“I want you to -- I want you to talk to me.”

“About what. The weather?”

“About --” Blaine swallowed a choked, laughing sound. “God, you can’t think of anything? How about your arm? Don’t act like you haven’t been silently judging me over it --”

Sebastian shook his head stubbornly. “I haven’t.”

Blaine sneered at him. “That’s a goddamn lie, Sebastian!”

“You saved my life, Blaine. I fucking know that,” Sebastian shot back, and pointed at Blaine with the stump; Blaine flinched. “You’re the one who can’t face what you did.”

“Because you’re blaming me!”

“I’m not! Christ, do you know what really bothers me? You want to know the real reason I’ve wanted to just -- just go?”

Blaine turned his face to press his mouth against his arm, brows furrowing, throat bobbing, and then he glanced back. “If you want to leave, you should.”

“I’m not saying that. I’m offering the why. Yes or no, Blaine, it’s a simple fucking question.”

Blaine took a deep breath, then stepped forward, releasing his neck and spreading his hands out to Sebastian. “Fine! Yes! Talk to me.”

“Because you’re pretending you give a shit.”

“I -- what’s that supposed to mean?” Blaine asked, almost like he hadn’t intended for it to be a question, the words reluctantly dragged from him.

“That you are an emotional zombie. For years I’ve had to all but wipe your ass while I looked out for you, and you could barely -- barely look at me -- and then -- and then when it’s my time to go you suddenly -- suddenly you’re willing to just do something like that. It’s not what you did. It’s that -- it’s that you only …”

Want me when you can’t have me. Sebastian swallowed, and turned away, covering his mouth and its unforgiving tremble with his hand. He felt sick, as sick as he’d been when the infection had first grabbed him.

“Really?” Blaine snapped, and the fury in his voice gave Sebastian pause. “You -- you said it yourself. After she -- after I lost them -- I, I was done Sebastian, I was -- but I couldn’t. Not when you -- you needed me -- and I’ve hung on, and that was for you, but you -- you didn’t do it for me, don’t pretend you did it for me --”

“So what you’re saying,” Sebastian began, speaking over Blaine, turning back on him with disbelief, “is that all this is some sick kind of revenge?”

Blaine’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “Forget it. You don’t hear a word I say, do you?”

“Oh, I hear plenty, trust me.” Sebastian reached over, grabbing him when Blaine tried to step away, fear lancing through him. “But why don’t you illuminate me some more.”

Blaine sighed, and it was like finding a dead jellyfish on the beach, empty and sad. He didn’t try to tug away, just bored holes into Sebastian with his hard, wet gaze. “Why bother? All we do is talk past each other.”

“Then walk away,” Sebastian told him, feeling like he’d absorbed all the anger that had fled Blaine. “Turn around and walk off and leave. But if you don’t want to do that, tell me what it is you mean!”

“I can’t make it any clearer!” Blaine told him, a hint of a waver to his voice. “You don’t protect me, Sebastian, you protect what I do for you.”

“What …” Sebastian let go of, stepped back, unease splitting him inside. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means …” Blaine laughed, short, sharp, bitter. “That I could have been anyone.”

“You can’t really believe that,” Sebastian said, and it was his turn to marvel, searching Blaine’s face frantically for some suggestion of jest.

“If it had been me who died instead of Kurt --”

Blaine hadn’t said that name since Kurt had died. Sebastian sucked in a breath.

“Blaine, I fucking hated your husband.”

Sebastian hadn’t said the name either, and he didn’t feel like joining Blaine there quite yet.

“I know you two -- butted heads, but I also -- I saw you two together. So many times. Just … talking.”

Sebastian couldn’t even be angry; it was like seeing a map written in a topsy-turvy dimension, like Alice had come back and told him to look down for the sky.

“I --” Sebastian shook his head. “About you. I was telling him off, half the time!”

Their daughter, upon hearing that Sebastian had been to France, had instantly assumed that Sebastian knew how to do French braids. “Pleaaase, Uncle Seb?” Sebastian, not being a twelve-year-old girl, had turned to Hummel, and Kurt had taught him. “You’re a natural,” he’d told Sebastian, smiling kindly, and sometimes, sometimes things were good between them.

They were rare, but -- maybe hate was too strong a word. They’d shared something. Of course they had. Everyone did, who had seen what they had. But Sebastian -- Sebastian had known where he stood. He’d always known.

How could Blaine not? Was that really what this was? You love nothing? Sebastian could laugh.

“That’s only a half --”

“Blaine,” Sebastian interrupted again, but this time his tone had gentled, such a terrifyingly vulnerable thing that left him incapable of hearing his own words himself without cringing away, rather registering them with how they landed across the landscape of Blaine’s raw expression, “I love you.”

Blaine half-smiled, confused, then slowly shook his head. “What …”

“I’ve always loved you,” he continued, gesturing to encompass Blaine. “It could never have been just anyone.”

Blaine was now just staring at him, mouth parted, brows drawn low, a faint shake still tugging at his otherwise still gaze. Embarrassed, Sebastian continued, words growing softer but no less steady:

“And fine, if that’s selfish. If it’s selfish to love you and want to see you stay alive, because I need you, because I think you needed me … then fine, I’m selfish. We all fucking knew that’s what love is anyways -- selfish, horrible, desperate … but it’s love.”

“It’s love,” Blaine echoed, and then, “Why did you …”

He didn’t finish, looking almost confused, and Sebastian shrugged helplessly.

“Never say anything? I figured you knew.”

Blaine looked to his feet, then jerked his chin up. The sweet sting of embarrassment was reflected in his face.

“I think …” he grew even more shame-faced “ … I did know.”

“Yeah.” Sebastian huffed, tucked his hands -- hand -- into his pocket, shrugged again. He couldn’t pretend it didn’t hurt. You love nothing. “Yeah. You did.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No more apologies, Blaine.” Sebastian nodded at Blaine’s left hand. “You had your reasons, and I had mine. That’s … human.”

Blaine curled his hand into a fist, then slowly, slowly, smoothed it out, and then they both stood there in a silence that just verged on awkward, not quite making eye contact. It had been a furious argument and a whimper of an end, a just-forged sword slipped directly into water, and Sebastian had only steam left to breathe. His chest felt tight and hot, and he sighed to release it.

“I really don’t blame you for saving my life,” Sebastian said quietly. “And I’m sorry if you felt like I had. I probably would have done the exact same thing.”

Blaine crossed his arms, mouth moving softly, still not looking at Sebastian, and then carefully replied:

“I’m sorry … that you had to save me. And I’m … god, Sebastian, I’m thankful. I am.”

Sebastian smiled at that, and Blaine suddenly made a choked sound, shoulders hunching, and Sebastian stepped forward, offering an open arm; Blaine squeezed his eyes shut and with another half-sob he moved to hug Sebastian, tight and all-encompassing, tucking himself under Sebastian’s chin, and Sebastian held him back as fiercely as he could, some weight he couldn’t name slipping from his shoulders but leaving him with a feeling of grace. Of … peace.

Truth be told, he wasn’t sure he’d ever known what that felt like before now.

--

That night, a blizzard raged outside, early winter come calling.

They slept tangled on that dirty mattress, breathing each other’s air, hearts beating against each other, feet tucked together, intimate and warm.

Blaine’s left hand was still curled in a fist, but now, Sebastian’s curled around it.

--

“I really am sorry about your arm. I wish there’d been another way.”

“Eh, it’s fine. I’m a leftie with jacking off anyways …”

“Right. … Where do you find the privacy to do that, exactly?”

“Privacy? No, I’m just very quiet. Ninja masturbation.”

“I …” Blaine laughed, nose crinkling at him. “That’s a skill, then.”

Sebastian, fond, nodded, and finished clumsily packing the last of his things; thankfully, Blaine hadn’t offered to help.

“Ready?” Sebastian asked, standing up and slinging the pack on.

“As ever.” Blaine adjusted his straps, smiled grimly. “Let’s get going.”

--

They slipped under the elevator, through the tunnel.

They both looked for the ring, not pausing, but flashlights sweeping the dark, lighthouses in the night, but nothing to be found, nothing to be warned for. There was only the dead and the soft puff of the spores, swirling through the beams, a quiet reminder of what awaited them all.

They left through the storeroom, up and out, through a field of empty mannequins and scattered hangers. Blaine briefly paused outside to stare up at the half-burned logo, thoughtful reflection curling his mouth, and then he looked back to Sebastian and smiled, offering his hand. Sebastian accepted it, his heart maybe a touch softer in his chest.

They left the city hand-in-hand, making tracks in the snow, their way soon swallowed up behind them by further falling drifts, with only forward to go.

“We should find a settlement,” Blaine said, and Sebastian nodded.

“Yeah, we should.” He knew they needed the help, now. “But we keep an exit strategy.”

“Of course.” Blaine leaned into him. “I think we just proved we can never be trapped.”

“We did, didn’t we?” Sebastian let out a huff of a breath, watching his breath swirl and part the air. “I guess we make a pretty good team.”

He sent a sly grin at Blaine, who smiled back, almost shy.

“We do,” Blaine agreed. “It’s why we’re still here, isn’t it?”

They squeezed each other’s hands, a warm moment that spread like waves on a tropical shore, the future of possibilities, white beaches and northern lights, and in understanding, they kept walking.

--

the end

--

#glee #blaine anderson #sebastian smythe #seblaine #my writing #blaine x sebastian #barbie's otp #happy halloween!

[itsmajel]

Majel Reads - November 2017

[What is this?]

Supernatural - Destiel

Angel Cookies by noxsoulmate ( @noxsoulmate) *Re-Read

“On Christmas Eve, if you eat Angel Cookies right before bed and then dream of your one true love, he will be your destiny.” The Shurley clan sure believe their old family legend, but not Castiel James – not since he was a pudgy teenager, running down the church aisle on Christmas Day, trying to stop his very handsome and very straight teacher Dean Winchester from marrying someone else. He may be grown-up, well-toned, bestselling Young Adult’s book author “C. S. James” now, but Castiel will never forget that day. And he’ll never fall foolishly in love again, especially not for Dean Winchester. But when the wish for a big family Christmas from his sick father brings him back home, Castiel has to confront his past. And not only that: a letter from a little fan from his home town is weighing heavy on his conscience. Reaching out to a troubled kid might endanger his secret identity. Adding to the problem is the shock of discovering that Dean is the little girl’s father – unattached and hotter than ever. Dean’s smile still makes Castiel melt, but Castiel knows that ship has sailed. The fact that Dean seems to be on board this time, however, doesn’t make it any easier for him. .

[Explicit] [74,494 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

Once Bitten Twice Shy by noxsoulmate *Re-Read

The past can hurt, no question there. But what happens when it makes you too suspicious of the present? Dean Winchester catches cheating bastards for a living, no matter how far he has to go to do so. He’s in Heaven when his favorite bakery brand opens a store right in front of his nose because nothing helps him get through a case like a delicious piece of cherry pie. And not only does Angels’ Pie have the best pie in the world, the baker is also one hell of a handsome guy. But if he wants the man in his life, Dean knows he needs to open up about himself, his job, and most importantly the people by his side, before it’s too late. He just doesn’t know how. Castiel Novak has just run away from Chicago and for a good reason. Seeking a fresh start, he does what his family does best and opens a new Angels’ Pie bakery. His handsome new regular is certainly not helping him keep his promise never to date again. Putting his trust in this man means to open his heart again. And his heart has been broken one too many times before.

[Explicit] [ 49,848 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

Good girl. by orange_crushed

Sam drives her to a veterinarian’s office one day, in the stolen car he is now increasingly regarding as his, and she comes back sort of sulky and depressed from having been tricked into getting a series of vaccinations.

“I know the feeling,” Cas says, at floor level with her, while the puppy licks the underside of his wrist and makes sad eyes. “I was once immune to tetanus, but now I am forced to endure booster shots.” He looks over at Sam and Dean, and lowers his voice to a whisper. “They told me they were taking me to the zoo,” he says. He pets her ears. “You will learn to trust again.”

[General Audiences] [ 1,712 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

Frowning Your Way Through Love by plirio

AU. Sam’s best friend is a quiet guy called Castiel. Dean is possibly in love with him. But all the guy does is frown at Dean. It sucks.

[Teen And Up Audiences] [ 4,016 Worda] [Read on AO3 here]

Phantom by imogenbynight (@imogenbynight)

After the Mark of Cain has been purged from his arm, Dean's found family all but drag him out of the bunker for a much needed few hours of normalcy. Naturally, things don't quite go to plan.

[Explicit] [ 12,681 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

Gods in the Chrysalis by JhanaMay (@jhanamay)

Olympic hopeful Dean Winchester has always felt more at home in the water than he did on land. Pressured by his father to carry on his mother’s dream, Dean’s entire life has revolved around swimming and competing. Everything changes when he sustains a head injury in an accident at the pool and is left unable to swim. The fear of disappointing everyone in his life is heightened when he realizes his love of the water has been replaced by a strange talent for playing the piano. With the help of Castiel, the high-school dropout/weekend musician who runs a local music store, Dean learns to question everything he thought he knew about himself, his family, and his life. What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the butterfly calls just the beginning.

[Explicit] [ 50,466 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

Hide and Seek by Persephoneshadow

Dean's been living on the streets and turning tricks for a while. Most of the time clients just find him. After a job goes wrong he goes looking for work and finds more than he expected with a married man of faith with blue eyes and a trench coat.

[Explicit] [ 4,971 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

The Walk by Persephoneshadow ( @ibelieveinthelittletreetopper)

Castiel tells himself it was a one time thing, even if his night with a hooker named Dean changed his whole world, but he can’t keep away from the man fate keeps throwing in his path. Castiel is married and he knows his sexuality is an affront to God and everything he’s ever been told is right.

Dean tells himself he doesn’t care about the weirdo with blue eyes, but every time they meet he gets a bit closer to something like hope. Dean’s nothing but a homeless waste of space with a brother in foster care a world away and a father in the wind.

As the connection between these two lost men deepens, it threatens the carefully maintained lies their lives are built on in a story of faith, mistakes, and the journey of love.

[Explicit] [ 190,205 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

Little Pink Houses by Persephoneshadow

Deputy Dean Winchester has seen some interesting things in his time, but dealing with a tiny house on Fergus Crowley's property might just be the strangest, especially when the snarky, kinda gorgeous protester who owns the thing answers the door buck ass naked. Dean's life might never be the same.

[Explicit] [ 15,371 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

With the Kisses of His Mouth by starsinursa

The first time they kiss, it’s not a kiss at all.

The second time they kiss, it’s because of magic.

The third time they kiss, it tastes like ash.

The fourth time they kiss, they fall into it.

The fifth time they kiss, Castiel thinks he must have died, or come close to it.

The sixth time they kiss, there is no momentous prelude.

[Teen And Up Audiences] [ 3,348 Words ] [Read on AO3 here]

Sing a Song of Sex Puns by Persephoneshadow

Summary verse: That one verse where Dean and Cas are good at talking during sex but not about the fact they're having sex.

---

Summary first story: “Come on, we’re finding you someone to…engage with sexually or whatever,” Dean explains, chancing another swig of beer before going on. “Anyone in this bar, no limits, who would you would be your top choice to bang?”“Well, you, ideally.”Dean spits out some beer before collapsing in on himself, legitimately choking this time. “Excuse me?!”

Or the one where Cas wants to have sex and Dean is there to help.

[Explicit] [ 33,298 Words] [5 Works] [Read on AO3 here]

Let It Be by Persephoneshadow

Dean Winchester's life changed forever the night a demon appeared in his brother's nursery and killed his father.

As a hunter Mary is determined to protect her sons from the evil she has run from her whole life - the same evil that took John. But Dean also trusts his protection to the angel in a trench coat he talks to in his dreams. Through years of tribulation and uncertainty, the Winchesters (plus a corgi that might be magic and an angel that may not be real) must fight monsters, demons, and even fate itself to survive as a family.

Or: The one where Mary lives, Cas is there, and nothing and everything changes.

[Mature] [ 143,254 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

I Put A Spell On You by Persephoneshadow

Dean and Castiel are still trying to figure their relationship out in the wake of another brush with death. When a curse gets loose in the bunker that sees Dean and Sam transformed and into all manner of things, from animals to each other and even conjoined, dealing with their emotions might be the only chance to save them. With a bit of help from a witch, of course.

[Explicit] [ 15,702 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

Unintended by emwebb17

Castiel is a successful defense attorney beginning to doubt the integrity of the work he does.  After winning a date with a firefighter named Dean at a charity auction, Cas decides that he needs to make a change in his life.  He just has one more case to take care of, but his involvement has devastating consequences.

[Explicit] [ 82,643 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

Highwaymen by orange_crushed

Dean closes his eyes. He is under a blanket in his memories, fabric pulled up under his chin and his face pressed near to hers on the pillow. His father is asleep, snoring slightly, hands loose and expression happy, curled around her on the other side. She's speaking in whispers. He knows that she was already pregnant then, that Sam was on his way into their lives, even though he'd had no idea what exactly that meant at the time. He can almost see her face still, warm and orange in the light of her lumos circling their heads like a firefly, but every now and then she blurs in his vision, like a lost thread of consciousness, something half-remembered.

Bit by bit, he's losing her.

[Mature] [ 66,389 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

Cursed Or Not by Ltleflrt ( @ltleflrt)

While experimenting with magic when he was a kid, Sam accidentally cursed Dean. Now, Dean is forced to wear a spelled amulet constantly, or he'll turn into a random animal. For a little over a decade, he's learned to live with the curse, and has even found it useful in some cases, but he sure would be happier without it.

When he meets a witch named Castiel, he's offered a deal. Instead of assuming all witches are bad, Dean can spend a season getting to know him. If at the end of the season, Dean still thinks he's evil Castiel will send him away with his memory wiped of the whole experience. But if he learns that Castiel is not the monster Dean assumes he is, he'll lift Dean's curse.

It's an offer Dean can't bring himself to pass up.

[Explicit] [115,223 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

Cabin Fever by Dangerousnotbroken  ( @shennanigoats )

Due to a romantic-comedy level booking blunder, grumpy stress-case Dean and reclusive writer Castiel end up shuttled off to the same remote cabin for two weeks, and nobody seems to care that neither of them wants to be there. But since they’re stuck in the same cabin for the duration of their vacation, they might as well play nice and make the best of it right?

Wrong.

Dean’s so stressed out he can’t sit still, Cas can’t boil water without setting the place on fire, and they’re so on each other’s nerves it’ll be a miracle if either of them survives until their rides home arrive.

At least the tension is just social, and not sexual, right? Right?

[Explicit] [ 35,102 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

The Boy From Next Door by all-i-need-is-destiel (Aleakim) ( @all-i-need-is-destiel )

Dean meets the boy from next door for the first time when he's ten years old.

[General Audiences] [ 3,042 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

The Ghosts of Blackthorn Hall by linoresearch

In 1843 Castiel Milton leaves his life of quiet faith and duty to take up employment as tutor to the young ward of one Mr Dean Winchester, at Blackthorn Hall. Set deep among the Yorkshire moors, Blackthorn is a place of mysteries – a wild place, where pale faces appear at the windows, and mad women laugh in the night. Castiel is drawn to the enigmatic Master of Blackthorn and they form an attachment neither of them expected. But there are secrets hidden behind Blackthorn's stone walls, truths that threaten to destroy their fragile happiness, as they are forced to confront the ghosts of their past. This is a Jane Eyre/SPN fusion AU, written for the Dean/Castiel Big Bang 2012.

If you enjoy this story there is now a short a follow up fic posted called 'A Night at Hyde Place.'

[Explicit] [ 94,657 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

A Night at Hyde Place by linoresearch                

This is a set a few months after the events of 'The Ghosts of Blackthorn Hall.' Dean has difficulty adjusting to his new life with Castiel, and London is perhaps not as much fun as he thought it might be. But then again he's always been good at making his own fun.

[Explicit] [ 6,984 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

Captain America / Marvel CMU - Stucky

No Retreat, Baby, No Surrender by tsnotbleak

"You think your old army buddy is working at Subway?”

“Of course not,” said Steve, trying to sound like he thought the idea was ludicrous. “Bucky died in 1944. I just...” He didn’t know what to say, so he slapped on his best lonely soldier face and lied. “It’s just it’s nice to pretend for a bit, you know?”

“No,” said Natasha. “It sounds deeply unhealthy, but you do you.”

In which Steve finds a man that looks a lot like Bucky making sandwiches in a Brooklyn subway. Except Bucky died seventy years ago, and this guy shows no sign of remembering Steve.

[Teen And Up Audiences] [ 39,793 ] [Read on AO3 here]

how bucky barnes won his second pulitzer by eriksxavier

It isn’t like him and Steve go out frequently. Sometimes he’ll stop by Bucky’s apartment and they’ll binge watch tv shows, or Steve will tell him stories from ‘back in the day’. They’ve only gone out in public two or three times and it was merely quick runs to get coffee, or more popcorn.

So Bucky really doesn’t understand where this Hydra asshole is coming from when he says: “The reason we took you is because we know the Captain will come running right into our trap.”

(aka: bucky is an award winning journalist who really doesn't appreciate being used as bait for a beefed up, spandex-clad super soldier.)

[General Audiences] [ 10,541 ] [Read on AO3 here]

definitely not jealous by eriksxavier

“I want him to be happy. Even if he does remember we used to be together, and just wouldn’t be happy with me anymore than… Fine. I’m fine with that”

Sam raises an eyebrow, “But…”   Defeated, Steve shrugs and continues, “But… You can’t expect me to be happy with the thought of the guy I’m in love with banging his gym-buddy.”

(bucky makes friends with a certain attorney from hell's kitchen. steve is fine)

[General Audiences] [ 6,281 ] [Read on AO3 here]

How To Embrace A Swamp Creature by littleblackfox

Steve washes his hands with the sliver of soap left by the sink, and takes a long hard look at himself in the mirror. The cut on his brow has scabbed over, and the bruises around his eye are blotchy red and sore to the touch. Stupid. His hands are no better, and he grips the edge of the sink to keep them from shaking. The scabs on his knuckles open up again, blood welling up starkly against his bone white fists. He holds them under the running faucet and watches the water circle the drain before pulling himself together. Just a little bit further, a little bit longer

[Explicit] [ 27,625 Words ] [Read on AO3 here]

Seawater by littleblackfox

He stops in front of a large glass tube; pale, translucent Jellyfish floating serenely within. “Look at these guys, Moon jellyfish. You’re an artist, tell me that’s not beautiful.” Brooklyn stares into the display, the soft blue light highlighting the cut of his cheekbones, the softness of his lips, and Bucky squeezes his hand a little harder. Brooklyn turns to him and smiles, small and crooked and painfully sweet. “Yeah, I guess they are.” Bucky can’t look away, something painful lodged in his throat. “Those horseshoe shapes on the caps are their gonads.” Oh, for fuck’s sake.

[Mature] [ 9,330 Words ] [Read on AO3 here]

Brooklyn Barnes by littleblackfox

“The fates have spoken, sir,” Natalia sounds too damned pleased. “They want you to go home. And kill some guy while you’re there.”

[Mature] [ 20,722 Words ] [Read on AO3 here]

Lovecraft in Brooklyn by littleblackfox

Bucky shrugs. “My brothers wish me dead. But I have claimed this world as mine, and should any dare approach I will slaughter them, and their progeny.” “Oh,” Steve says weakly. “Well, it’s tough coming from a large family.”

[Explicit] [ 20,562 Words ] [Read on AO3 here]

Closed Book by AggressiveWhenStartled

Bucky woke up with a headache, a mouth that tasted like something had died in it, and hands-down, swear-to-god, the most beautiful man he had ever seen asleep in his lap.

Bucky was also, he realized after a moment, strapped down to a hospital bed with about six different monitors making unsynced, equally piercing, beeps. Beyond that he couldn’t quite see—there was a hideous floral curtain pulled around the bed, and while he could just make out figures moving in the room beyond it, the pattern made his head pound even worse the longer he looked at it.

So. That was concerning.

[Explicit] [ 38,880 Words ] [Read on AO3 here]

i'd like to tell you something (but i have to think of something first) by obsessivereader ( @yetanotherobsessivereader)

Attention focused solely on the book, he moves forward, one slow, pretend-casual step at a time—he’s seen enough movies to know that moving fast will draw people’s attention.

Five feet. Four feet. Almost there.

He’s a bare three feet away when Rogers fucking materializes out of thin air, cuts right in front of him, and heads straight for the book.

“Hey,” Bucky whispers furiously, “I want that book!”

Rogers freezes. His head snaps around, and he gives Bucky a look filled with horror.

He points a finger at Rogers. “I don’t care how hot you are, or how ripped,” Bucky growls. “My assignment is due today, and I will fucking fight you for the book if I have to.”

Before Rogers can recover from his surprise, Bucky leaps forward, grabs the book, and clutches it to his chest.

[Teen And Up Audiences] [ 3,761 Words ] [Read on AO3 here]

Newton's Law Of Naps by rohkeutta

Within the first hour Steve backs an art book, a short animated film, an eco-friendly electric toothbrush, and an archeological excavation in Oklahoma.

Not that he actually wants an eco-friendly electric toothbrush or a bicycle rack that’s shaped like a moose head, but supporting small businesses is fun, and he loves the creativity Kickstarter is bursting with.

He’s got too much money just lying around, anyway.

[Teen And Up Audiences] [ 1,123 Words ] [Read on AO3 here]

Wendigo by L1av

There's something out in the woods and it's eating Steve's cows. After Steve saves a little girl's life, his world is turned upside-down when he learns about the wendigo myth, an ever-hungry beast cursed for eternity. He's convinced the creature in his woods isn't a bear, but the wendigo itself. Except people say wendigo are just myth...

Steve's going to have something to say to them after he comes face to face with the one in his woods. After he tells it to stop eating his cows.

[Mature] [ 39,029 Words ] [Read on AO3 here]

The Superhero's Courtship by captainrum                

One night Bucky finds himself caught in the middle of a dangerous attack on the city. Lucky for him, a madman on a motorcycle comes to his rescue. He offers him pie in repayment.

Minor mentions: Terrorism, Blood.

[Mature] [ 16,374 Words ] [Read on AO3 here]

Pirates of the Caribbean - Jack Sparrow/Will Turner

Collide by the_dala

A retelling of "Curse of the Black Pearl" in which young Will was taken and fostered by Barbossa's crew, while Elizabeth grew up with Jack Sparrow sneaking through her window. Eight years later, Will needs Jack's help to get back to the Black Pearl.

[Explicit] [ 28,142 Words ] [Read on AO3 here]

Last Request by the_dala

On the journey back to Port Royal, Will and Jack come to an understanding.

[Explicit] [ 1,709 Words ] [Read on AO3 here]

Sleep While I Drive by the_dala

Jack is trying to get some sleep, but Will needs a question answered first.

[Mature] [ 591 Words ] [Read on AO3 here]

Season of Peace by the_dala

Will hates Christmas and Jack is determined to change his mind.

[Teen And Up Audiences] [ 3,309 Words ] [Read on AO3 here]

Fortunate Son by the_dala

The men will think Will Turner even luckier after this, but Jack will know better.

[Teen And Up Audiences] [ 3,256 Words ] [Read on AO3 here]

Within a Mile of Home by the_dala

Bill goes wandering, and he wants to know how his son is faring.

[General Audiences] [ 947 Words ] [Read on AO3 here]

Experience by the_dala

Will asks Jack for a story about his past.

[Teen And Up Audiences] [ 2,417 Words ] [Read on AO3 here]

Closing Davy Jones' Locker by the_dala

Jack and Will find a way to say goodbye to Bootstrap. .

[Teen And Up Audiences] [ 3,610 Words ] [Read on AO3 here]

Comfort Me With Apples by the_dala

'“There are things we do for one another, at sea,” Jack explains.'

[Mature] [ 3,375 Words ] [Read on AO3 here]

Harry Potter - Sirius Black/Harry Potter, Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley

Cartographer's Craft by copperbadge ( @copperbadge) *re-read

In the summer after Harry's sixth year, Harry and Remus uncover a section of the Marauder's Map which has been hidden for the past twenty years, releasing a carbon copy of sixteen-year-old Sirius Black from its depths. As they prepare for the impending war, Sirius must find a place for himself in this new world, Harry must find a way to destroy Voldemort, and Remus must face his own past while trying to build a tenuous future with Tonks.

[Explicit ] [ 205,696 Words ] [Read on AO3 here]

- - - - - - - - - -

(All summaries are the official summaries of the author. Stats and infos as according to hosting site or information given by the author)

(I’ve tried to include the tumblr names of the few authors I knew them of because it has come to my intention that many like to see when their stories get recommended. If any of the authors that have been tagged don’t want to be tagged, or if any of you know the tumblr names of the ones I haven’t tagged please let me know!)

Looking for more reading inspiration? Check out my fic rec tag here on tumblr, my reading list masterpost or just check out my AO3 bookmarks.

#fic rec #majel reads #reading list #november #2017 #supernatural #destiel #Marvel CMU #captain america #stucky #Pirates of the Caribbean #Jack Sparrow/Will Turner #harry potter #Sirius Black/Harry Potter #Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks #Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley

[sasslightertm-a]

VERSES

Here are all of the universes I play Chris in. If you want a thread set in a particular verse, let me know. If you don't see a verse that works for your muse, I'm always happy to make a closed verse for our muses.

Threads within a verse are on their own timeline or sub-verse, especially multiple threads with one partner in a specific verse (since they tend to build their own continuity).

MISC.

v: TEENAGE WASTELAND ( Teen. )

Gen. verse for all the threads in any verse where Chris is a teenager. FC: Dylan Sprayberry

Tag: #v: Teenage Wasteland ( Teen )

v: UNDETERMINED

All threads with an undetermined verse go here.

Tag: #v: Undetermined

CANON/MAIN

v: BACK IN TIME ( Main / Season 6. )

Follows the canon storyline for season six, picking up after Chris has established himself as the Charmed Ones' Whitelighter and (reluctantly) helped them rescue Leo from Valhalla.

Note: I play Chris as if the Charmed Ones and Leo are still unaware of his true identity.

Tag: #v: Back in Time ( Main )

Subverse: SEE THESE EYES SO GREEN ( Werepanther!Chris )

v: IF I CAN’T SAVE YOU, I SWEAR I’LL STOP YOU ( Unchanged Future. )

Chris’s older brother Wyatt has turned evil and taken over both the magical and mortal communities (the Twice-Blessed Child is now akin to the Source of All Evil). Chris is secretly trying to come up with a plan to save Wyatt all while trying to survive.

Tag: #v: If I Can’t Save You I Swear I’ll Stop You ( Unchanged Future )

v: CHARMED LEGACY ( Changed Future. )

Chris grew up battling demons and other forces of evil alongside his older brother Wyatt, younger sister Melinda, and his assorted cousins, carrying on the Charmed Ones’ legacy once Piper, Phoebe, and Paige “retired” from magical work.

Although he doesn't serve as a Whitelighter, Chris will often take it upon himself to help out new witches who are just growing into their powers.

Tag: #v: Charmed Legacy ( Changed Future )

CANON AU

v: HE’S FALLEN FROM GRACE TILL THE END OF ALL HIS DAYS ( Evil!Chris / Mirror Universe. )

Chris is a Darklighter-witch and serves as an assassin, taking out witches, Whitelighters, and demons. He cannot heal; instead, he has the ability to kill his victims with a touch.

Tag: #v: He’s Fallen From Grace Till the End of All His Days ( Evil!Chris )

v: ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE ( “Morality Bites” timeline. )

Magic was exposed in 2009 when Phoebe Halliwell used her powers to kill Cal Greene. While a local D.A. Nathaniel Pratt began a modern-day witch hunt as a platform for political office, many witches went further underground. Others decided they'd had enough of hiding and it was time to fight back.

Chris has gone into hiding, only using his magic when it's strictly necessary.

Tag: #v: All Hell Breaks Loose ( Morality Bites AU )

AU

v: STUDENTLIGHTER ( College AU. )

Chris is attending college at UCLA (University of California, Los Angeles) for their nursing program. As such, he is a School of Nursing student (going for a Bachelor of Science as an undergrad and a Masters Entry Clinical Nurse for his masters/graduate). He's also working his way through school with a part-time job at a strip club. However, studies tend to become rather difficult when magical hijinks keep ensuing.

Tag: #v: Studentlighter ( College )

v: BLOOD WITCH ( SWEEP series AU. )

Chris Halliwell is the second-born child to Piper and Leo Halliwell, and the latest in the Warren line—a powerful line of hereditary "blood witches". Chris is half-Woodbane through his mother (one of the Seven Great Clans)—and while he's not as powerful as his mother, aunts, or his older brother, he is very knowledgeable about the Craft and is very skilled with his own magick.

Tag: #v: Blood Witch ( Sweep series AU )

CROSSOVER

v: SAVING PEOPLE, HUNTING THINGS ( Supernatural. )

After a spell gone awry in an attempt to escape Wyatt’s forces, Chris has found himself in an entirely different universe. He still has his witchlighter powers and has (eventually) found himself working alongside Dean and Sam Winchester and the angel Castiel.

Tag: #v: Saving People Hunting Things ( Spn )

v: I’M FIGHTING THIS WAR SINCE THE DAY OF THE FALL ( Freeform’s Shadowhunters. )

Chris has moved to New York City partly to get away from Wyatt and Leo, partly to investigate the increase in demonic activity. While there he encounters the Shadowhunters, the Institute, learns about the war with Valentine; and does whatever he can to help: hunt demons, protect Downworlders, make sure Valentine doesn't succeed in obtaining the rest of the Mortal Instruments, keep news of his location hidden from his older brother... And he has to try not to seriously injure anyone who refers to him as a warlock.

Note: Have watched up to s2e14 in TV canon.

Tag: #v: I’m Fighting This War Since the Day of the Fall ( Shadowhunters )

v: I DON’T CARE IF HEAVEN WON’T TAKE ME BACK ( The Mortal Instruments. )

Chris has time-traveled back to 2007 on orders from the Elders. His mission: watch over a certain group of Nephilim from the New York Institute and do whatever he can to guide and help in the Mortal War. After Valentine is killed by Raziel, Chris shifts his focus to fighting against Jonathan Morgenstern (aka Sebastian) in the Dark War alongside the Shadowhunters and Downworlders.

Note: Have read up to City of Fallen Angels in main series, The Bane Chronicles, and Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy.

Tag: #v: I Don’t Care if Heaven Won’t Take Me Back ( The Mortal Instruments )

v: INSANITY IS ALL AROUND US ( MTV’s Teen Wolf. )

Piper decided to move the boys to Beacon Hills, California, when Chris was just about to start sophomore year at his old high school. It's not long before the teenage witchlighter realizes there's something supernatural about Beacon Hills and winds up getting himself involved in the drama between bitten Beta werewolf Scott McCall and his pack, werewolf hunters, and other hijinks.

Note: Chris' default age for this verse will be 16+. It will primarily follow season 1 & 2 of Teen Wolf, but I can easily jump around in the series' timeline.

Tag: #v: Insanity Is All Around Us ( Teen Wolf )

CLOSED

v: Southern Style Black Magic ( lovelycajunnurse. )

Magical Roma aren't supposed to have Whitelighters, but Chris was never really one for following the Elders' rules. His most recent charge is Bailey Thibodeaux, a Roma that lives in Florida (and who is originally from Louisiana).

Tag: #v: Southern Style Black Magic

v: Dual War ( naturalblcnde. )

It started after San Francisco fell and the SF Institute fell with it. That’s when the Clave began to accept that Wyatt Halliwell was indeed a threat, not just to the witches sequestered in that area. When they tried to resettle in New York, Wyatt attacked them too.

It was then the Clave and the few leaders the witches had came to an agreement. Teams of witches and Shadowhunters in equal measure were formed, fighting the hordes of relentless evil even as they were cut down. Witches took Shadowhunter runes, Shadowhunters made witches potions and helped to make one that activated , both learning to utilize and share their respective skills. Teams became family, witch and Shadowhunter bloodlines mixing and forming a new type of warrior.

Chris Halliwell has been partnered with Jace Wayland, a Shadowhunter and the team leader. Unbeknownst to the Clave, they've come up with a way to prevent this war from ever happening: Chris travels back in time to save his older brother.

Everything goes downhill after that.

Tag: #v: Dual War ( naturalblcnde )

#mobile page

[straatega-blog]

My skin is full of flowerbeds and you know every way to make them bloom.

LITERARY SEXTS VOL. 1 POETRY MEME   ///   accepting

beautiful boy. itis a thought that has struck him, on many occasions, over many years – many, many times. long before such thoughtswere proper. long before such thoughts were allowed.thoughts such as those, towards a boy such as he – the little loving crosssection of stars Noctis brought home one grimy afternoon like a well-groomed stray. but the constellation that hadattached himself to the young prince wasnot meant for Ignis. there was no part of Prompto Argentum which could beconsidered attainable. and sothoughts such as “ b e a u t i f u l ” and “ c l e v e r ” and “ hair like thes u n but twice as b r i g h t ” were not thoughts ever meant to pass throughan advisor’s rattling mind.

and yet the thought hadovertaken him more times than he could count, and he had wrapped his knucklesred on marble-tops in penance – Prompto was not anyone’s property, least of all the young prince, and yet by theirfriendship alone Prompto was by all accounts – untouchable. which the young advisor ( too young ! ) had acceptedwith grace and the odd, indulgent gaze at freckled cheeks over the rim of hismorning mug.

it almost feels salacious, how he no longer fights downthose thoughts any longer – how he had come to indulge in thoughts of his sweet, beautiful boy made up entirely ofstardust and battery acid. his thoughts are laid bare in the space between kisses,verbalized now where once they had manifested in red-raw knuckles and bittentongues. and he has become incredibly versed in Prompto, his mannerisms andmoods, his taste for melon soda and how well he hides his nightmares in theleft side of the tent. he knows Prompto. he has come to know him moreaccurately than his young lord ever could, and that – well, at times Ignis wasever so proud of it.

there were no morecomparisons to be had between the king and his right hand – and Ignis no longerhad to share.

he mulls on this, bitesit between his teeth from his place at Prompto’s chest – a place he has made a homeout of, snuggled between breastbones and constellations. his kisses are lazyand loving to collarbones, listening to the gunner sigh wistfully into thecrown of his hair – to the soft, mumbled words, poetic and treacherously sweet.

and he doesn’t respond. no. not right away. there is a moment instead of great triumph, a moment where his chest tightens with the beatingof his heart. stirs up memories of sleepless nights spent mulling theingredients to Prompto’s favourite breakfasts – of solemn mornings, a smiling facein crooked doorway that he was unable to touch.but Ignis can touch now, and he’slearned ever more the intricacies of Prompto’s skin, and wires, and breathlesssighs – and has taken great and terriblepride in the fact that no one knows how to touch Prompto like he does. that Noctis would never be closer toPrompto than he has become ( such a terrible, horrible thought ! ).

he’s learned the art ofkissing through Prompto’s bones, straight into his heart that he swears – in thebeats between kisses – beats at times only for him. let him be greedy, of this one small thing.    ❝  I never fancied myself a skillful gardener--   ❞  spoken, chuckling, as a man brimming with pride and yet humbled happily intothe d i r t by the boy tangled in his arms. he reaches to kiss – kisses atfreckled lips quirked at the corners for their own corny poeticism – kisses thecurve of a cheek, the tip of a nose, both eyebrows ( until tittering laughteris his heady and heartfelt reward ). his nose comes to rest against theyounger’s, breathing – grinning – softly. heloves him so !    ❝  -- but practice does make perfect…   ❞

#aperturetrigger #long post // #hahahahaha I am so #byyyeeee