#and that he needs to give his place back to callum

[dulcebloodhnd]

THE BLUE HOUR

pairings: jack abbot x poc!reader/reader

warnings: age gap; medical inaccuracies; angst

summary: jack has been avoiding you during a mass casualty event, you have had no time to process your feelings when things come alight.

authors note: please don’t come at me with my medical inaccuracies; this was not beta read; this was not edited so give me a break pls; thank you for reading and enjoy!

please reblog, comment and follow! i would really appreciate it :))

word count: 1.3k

COPYRIGHT ® 2025 DULCEBLOODHND. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. THIS ORIGINAL WORK IS NOT ALLOWED TO BE REPOSTED ON ANY PLATFORM IN ANY FORMAT.

Abbot was avoiding you and with effort as he dodged you between patients, monitoring the chaos and acting accordingly. He’s been distant. It’s not out of the normal for him to be reserved but not like this. You gave up after the fourth hour. There were more important things at risk than your relationship.

Triage was a controlled chaos, bodies lined the corridors filled with people and blood. After news hit that it was a mass casualty event, the hospital was on lockdown. It was all hands on deck. Samira intubating a patient, Robby running all over the place, Javadi and Whitaker passing down emergency blood bags. Abbot had left abruptly as soon as Mel came running back into the centre of the emergency department.

Your hands were full by keeping and maintaining pressure on a woman’s abdomen, volumes of blood were seeping the gauze as you were changing it to fresh new dressings. You exchanged glances with Mateo as you signalled to him if he had the tourniquet before putting the instrument around the patients body and tightening it all the way. You searched for any signs of extra blood and checked her pulse before ordering another nurse to finish administering extra fluids before transferring up above for surgery.

Gloves were thrown into the allocated bin, new ones put on as you rushed into South 15. A boy, Callum, sat upright upon the cot with a gash across his head. He was mumbling incoherently as you approached him. You checked his head, pustules of oxidised blood bubbled from beneath. Callum’s head dropped down, his head had suffered more trauma. The bead was brought down into a horizontal position as the boys body was locked in place. To minimise the pressure, a tube was placed to relieve tension and allow the blood and any fluid drain from the brain. Callum’s blood pressure went back to a normal range.

It was a lot. The suffering and the death. Many innocent lives lost because of one person’s selfish action.

Abbot entered into the open area and made brief eye contact with you. His eyebrows were pinched and in his sternness he got to work in aiding Mohan with a man’s collapsed lung.

Air was needed. You made your way outside into the triage zone to see if Shen and Ellis needed help with any incoming patients. More importantly, you just wanted a breather, a reprieve from inside.

The cool wind caressed your face, blanketing your anxious state in a film of protection. You took a deep breath before addressing both Doctors.

“Anymore incoming patients?”

“Do you want to impart your words of wisdom, Shen?” Ellis said.

Shen smiled, “Don’t worry, I learned my lesson. No one will be surprising us.”

Honks from the other side of the buildings could be heard before a black sedan crashed into a line of parked gurneys.

“You just had to say something,” Ellis remarked as she ran to the drivers side.

You were praying for the night to end.

———

The shooter was pronounced dead—a self immolation with a bullet to his own head. What a coward. The emergency room was being cleared up of all messes and walk-in’s being allowed back into the hospital.

All the light drained from your face. You were dehydrated, hungry and exhausted. Before anyone could call on you, you locked yourself in accessible bathroom stall. Looking at yourself in the mirror, a small speck of blood dotted your cheek. Warm water ran from the tap as you rubbed at your face before splashing the water all over. Hands gripped the porcelain sink tightly, your chest felt heavy. You could not breathe for a moment, tried focusing on the physical objects. Everything was wrong. You didn’t feel like yourself. You had one more hour of your shift. You could get through this.

You exited the bathroom and came into contact with hard chest. Jack Abbot. His arms steadied yourself against him. The warmth of his hands seeped into your clothes.

You had to break the silence and said, “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.” You stepped back from his hold.

“You good?” Jack replied. His mouth twitched, a slight frown decorated his face.

Your head jerked up. “Yeah…yeah. I’m fine. All good. Nothing to worry about here.”

“Uh huh. And, I’m Mother Teresa.” Jack scoffs. “You need to talk about it. Even if it’s not me. You need to speak with someone.”

“Someone should be taking their own advice then.” You retort without a second to lose. “Don’t Jack. Just..don’t.”

You felt Jack’s stare as you kept on walking away. The man was confusing. He’s committed and caring, the next he is aloof and avoidant. You squared back your shoulders and completed the last hour of your shift. Your bed was calling you.

———

Miscellaneous things were scattered around your apartment, some would say it’s homey and live in. Your mother would say it’s a mess. Most things you disagreed on but this was the opposite. Loose receipts and scribbled paper were binned, the knitted blanket folded and draped across the sofa and incense burned to rid of the negative energies that burdened your house and your mind.

You were clearing up the last of scattered items before a hard knock invaded your space. Why would anyone be visiting you at this hour? The bolt and lock was undone and you peeked through the slit before opening the door to Jack. His bag hung over his shoulder with one hand in his scrubs pocket. You were surprised that he showed up to your house.

“What are you doing here?”

Silence ensued.

“Wanted to check on you to see if you were alright.” Jack leaned against the door. His foot toed the line as he asked, “May I come in?”

You opened the door wide and let him in before closing it gently and taking a deep breath before facing him again. Jack placed his bag down by the sage couch, and sat upon the armrest. You continued to stand with your arms crossed against your chest.

“Why are you here, Jack?”

“We need to talk.”

You scoffed at his statement. “What did you think I was trying to do for the past week?”

“I know and I’m sorry. Also, having these conversations at work are not appropriate.”

“Right…because work was the first time I brought up needing to have a conversation with you. Like, I have not been messaging you or calling you. Maybe, work was the only place to ambush you. But, even that didn’t work.”

“I’m here now, aren’t I?”

You charged closer to him and swiped across to sit on the opposite side of the sofa. Your legs tucked underneath you as you stared up at Jack.

“So, what is it that you want to say,” you whispered.

Jack cleared his throat and you could tell that what he would say would not be great news. His eyes watered and were slightly red but he looked straight into your eyes when he said the most heart shattering thing.

“It was never going to work between us. You need to understand that.” Jack sighed as he looked down at his feet. “You are half my age, darling.”

“What were these past six months then? A fling? I’m some hot young resident to mess around with?”

Jack looked at you with a pained expression.

“Just be honest with yourself and say that you’re a coward and you didn’t want this relationship to last.”

“I ain’t a coward.”

“Well, you’re a man who clearly doesn’t know what he wants,” your voice trembled.

Jack looked away clearing his throat. His voice was gruff as he said, “I…I thought I did.”

You didn’t believe him. But, maybe he was telling the truth because the man that stood before you, well, you didn’t recognise him anymore.

[weepingcoquette]

Let Me || Callum Turner x Reader

Summary: Callum just wants you to experience what he can give you

Warnings: softdom!Callum, smut, face sitting, size difference, slight dubcon(just a teeny weeny bit), 

Word count: 1.2k

|*|

From behind you, a deep hum rumbled  through your body making you feel like you were vibrating. A heavy weight settled on your ribs and warmth spread throughout your drowsy body. You could feel his breath against your bare shoulders becoming more erratic as he woke. Before long, soft kisses were being pressed into your skin and his arms were tightening around you. 

“I know you’re awake,” he chuckled deeply. 

You could feel the bass of his voice in your chest. His large body was wrapped around you like a very large blanket. His hand spreading fully, covering over your stomach. You could still smell his body wash from the night before. 

“Baby,” he groaned, placing his head in the crook of your neck. 

Met with more silence, he leaned back slightly, a pout forming on his lips. It was quiet before you felt cool air hitting your ear followed by nips on your earlobe. All your resolve wasn’t enough, it tickled too much. 

“Callum,” you giggled. “Cut it out.” 

“I knew it,” he laughed, kissing your neck and holding you close. 

You squealed out in delight as he continued kissing you, the large man overtaking you quite easily. He hovered over you, placing one last kiss on your lips before retreating. You both breathed out, slightly winded by the playful activity and needing to catch your breath. Your eyes maintained eye contact and you saw that Callum was trying to hide his eagerness, but it was like he had an invisible tail wagging.

As you continued to catch your breath your mind wandered to the promise you made him last night. That, after weeks of asking, you’d sit on his face if he beat you at Connect 4. If. 

You thought it would lay it to rest, after all, you were the best. No one had ever beaten you. Ever. Yet, if there’s a will there’s a way and Callum ended up beating you after a long 30-minute game. You were able to push it back to the following morning, though. 

And now that time was upon you. 

Your eyes trailed up to the roof, the ceiling mirror reflecting you and your boyfriend’s forms and your nervous expression. 

“Callum, I don’t know,” you sighed, your gaze returning to him. 

“You’re not backing out are you,” Callum frowned, his accent coming out a little more. “Babe, you promised. I could make you feel so good.” 

“I just-,”

“Let me make you feel good,” he groaned as he leaned down to kiss you. “Let me, my love.”

He trailed down to your stomach, nipping and kissing the skin leaving small marks in his wake. His hands flowed all over your body, caressing and gripping at your flesh. As he descended down your body, his hands and lips left a trail of red marks in their wake. The contrast against your soft skin was almost electrifying as he continued to kiss and bite his way lower. His hands roamed possessively over your curves, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Every movement was calculated and purposeful, sending a clear message of desire and need.

“Please,” he begged.

The way his lips moved against your skin was both loving and hungry. Each kiss left a faint red mark on your skin. His hands roamed over you with such ease, tracing every curve and dip of your body. As he trailed down to your hips, his intense gaze never left yours.

Callum's lips were full and pink, moving against your skin in a slow and deliberate dance. As he trailed down your stomach, you could see the slight red marks left by his nipping. His hands were large and lean, their movements purposeful and tinged with desire.

“Oh, my love,” he groaned into the skin of your inner thigh, his fingers hooking on your underwear and pulling down. “Please.”

You only sighed in pleasure as he continued his assault. You bit your lip, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. You were always hesitant when it came to trying new things, but there was something about the way Callum looked at you when he promised to make you feel good that made you want to trust him. Taking a deep breath, you nodded, closing your eyes and bracing yourself for what was to come.

Your heart rate increased as he pressed his face against your core, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. His hands reached up and grabbed your thigh, placing it on his shoulder. He kissed your thigh towards your core but never fully touched where you wanted him. Your mind only focused on pleasure, you began to circle your hips, searching for Callum. 

“There we go,” he agreed. “Don’t think baby. Just focus on me.”

Before you realised you were straddling his hips as he kept your mind off of what was happening with firm touches and strategic kisses placed on your inner wrist. 

Your heart was pounding in your chest, a mix of fear and a little excitement. 

You felt his hand and arms travel under you, looping around your thighs and pulling you up to his head. Your breath hitched as you hovered over him, heat blazing in your ears and cheeks. Gentle kisses were delivered to the inside of your thigh to comfort you. 

The warmth of his breath against your skin made your core clench in need. His fingers lightly traced circles on the skin of your butt before gripping slightly to pull you down unto him, stopping when he felt resistance. 

“Don’t fight me, my dear,” he frowned. “Let me taste you.”

You breathed out harshly trying to release your tense muscles but finding difficulty. 

“I can’t-”

“Relax,” he commanded calmly. “Let me take care of the rest. 

His thumb went back to rubbing gentle circles on your ass, going back to placing kisses on your thighs. The moment he felt tension release, even for a second, he took his chance. He pulled you down harshly, his mouth connecting with your clit causing you to cry out in pleasure. His arms bulged as he held you in place. 

The sensation was overwhelming, and you gasped his name. His hands gripped your hips as he pulled you closer to him, allowing his tongue to explore new territories. You began to grind against his face, continuing to seek out the searing white feeling he was giving you.

“Yes,” he growled into your cunt. “That’s it, use me.” 

Gaining the confidence to look at him, you shifted your gaze down, and what you’re met with almost made you cum right there. 

Callum's face was rosy with arousal and a hint of sweat glistened on his brow, his freckles standing out more prominently against his pale skin. His eyes were fixated on your now swollen and glistening pussy, almost as if he was mesmerised by it. His long dark lashes fluttered slightly as he took in the sight before him. And when he smiled, it was almost blinding, with the glint of your essence making them shimmer in the light.

“I knew you’d like it,” he whispered coyly into your cunt, his accent thick. 

|*|

A/n: Feedback is welcomed!!

[floralcyanide]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍɪɴᴅ — ᴄᴀʟʟᴜᴍ ᴛᴜʀɴᴇʀ

callum turner x fem!reader (nsfw)

In which a chance reconnection with your ex, Callum Turner, brings you to his hotel room- and he talks you through more than just your breakup.

✣ warnings: smut, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, language, female anatomy described, nipple play, finger sucking, fingering, mutual orgasm, love confessions

✣ word count: 2.7k

✣ author’s note: I wrote half of this weeks ago and just finished it. hope ya'll enjoy ((:

masterlist | divider credit: @cafekitsune

based on this song | the death of peace of mind - bad omens

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

The last thing on your mind today was running into your ex, Callum Turner, yet here you are. 

He’s sitting adjacent to you in the script reading session for your new movie- and you had no idea of the cast until today, so seeing him was an absolute surprise. You try your best to remain neutral and keep yourself from looking at him, but you find yourself glancing up at him frequently. He looks great, of course, which makes it hard not to stare. You remind yourself Callum is an ex for a reason and focus on your turns to read the script. Callum had broken up with you because he had found himself unsure of his feelings and hadn’t elaborated further on it before leaving. So, you have struggled for a while with self-confidence and identity. It’s not entirely his fault, but not knowing how he felt for you during your relationship did something to you emotionally and mentally. 

When the reading concluded, you tried your best to make a clean getaway, but Callum’s long strides and quick maneuvering skills got him to you in the hallway in record time. A gentle hand is placed on your shoulder in the sea of cast and crew exiting.

“Long time no see,” Callum flashes his brilliant smile at you once you turn to face him.

“Yeah,” you half-smile, “Sure has.”

Callum stares intently into your eyes for a few seconds longer than usual before he notices he hasn’t responded. He visibly shakes his head out of his mess of thoughts, “How have you been?”

“Could be better,” you shrug, “But I’ll be fine, always am.”

You keep your answers brief, with as little to go on as possible. 

“Would you like to meet at my hotel for coffee later? There’s a cafe in the lobby that’s pretty good,” Callum scratches the back of his neck, “I just need to talk to you about something and would rather do it somewhere other than the corridor,” he laughs nervously.

“Oh,” you purse your lips, momentarily looking down at your feet before answering, “I don’t know, Callum. Is it really a good idea for us to talk outside the set?”

Callum clears his throat, “Well. I was hoping to talk to you about that, actually. See, I didn’t tell you everything when we broke up about how I felt, and I think you deserve to know, ‘s all.”

You sigh, “I suppose knowing wouldn’t hurt, even though it’s been a year already. Why didn’t you come to me sooner?”

“I was afraid,” Callum admits, “I thought you hated me.”

You frown, “I don’t hate you, Callum. I promise.”

Callum brightens, “So you’ll meet me at the coffee shop? Tomorrow, maybe? Ten in the morning?”

“Fine,” you agree, “Tomorrow it is.”

Callum gives you the hotel’s address and leaves you in the hallway, turning as he walks away to wave goodbye.

You’re laying in bed that night staring at the ceiling. You still love Callum; don’t get yourself wrong. But if he didn’t feel the same, why entertain it? Besides, it seemed like he never really felt that way for you, and that’s why he dipped last year. At the same time, however, you don’t know that for sure because Callum didn’t tell you much. You guess you’ll find out more tomorrow. You roll over and will yourself to sleep.

You definitely need the caffeine upon waking the following day from tossing and turning all night. You get ready and take a cab from your apartment to the hotel Callum is staying at, nervous the entire ride there. When you arrive at the cafe, Callum is sitting on a couch by the window, aimlessly scrolling through his phone, waiting for you. He hopes you come and don’t change your mind.

“You made it!” Callum grins as you walk in, and he stands up to greet you with a kiss on the cheek. 

Your entire body burns at the contact, but you try your best to push your feelings aside, “Of course I did.”

The two of you order and return to the couch, where you hesitantly sit beside Callum, his thigh touching yours. You find it familiar and comforting but, at the same time, very nerve-wracking. 

“So,” Callum turns to face you, “Do you mind me explaining everything? I promise you don’t owe me your time; I just feel you deserve to know why I left.”

“I don’t mind,” you say honestly, “In fact, I’d feel better hearing it.”

“Alright,” Callum nods, “To be honest, I was scared. I had feelings for you I had never felt for anyone before, and I didn’t know how to handle them.”

You focus on Callum’s words, carefully turning them over in your head, “I understand.”

“I loved you, you know,” Callum rubs his palms on his thighs, a nervous laugh leaving his lips, “And I fucked it up.”

You stare at him wordlessly, unsure of how to respond.

“Still do, actually. Love you.”

Your ears begin to ring, and you almost don’t hear your names being called for your coffee orders until Callum stands up and walks over to retrieve them. He loved you? Still loves you, rather? Your facial expression- one of shock- is still apparent when Callum sits back down next to you and offers you your drink.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you exhale the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, “I just didn’t expect that.”

“You don’t have to return those feelings, by the way. I just needed to tell you that’s how I felt then and still feel now.”

“Despite leaving me a little lost a year ago, a part of me still loves you too, Cal. But I don’t know what to do with that.”

“It’s up to you, sweetheart. We don’t have to do anything if that’s what you wish.”

“How do I know you really love me?” you blurt, shocking yourself with your words.

Callum puts a hand on your knee, “You can trust me, or I can prove it to you.”

Clutching your untouched drink in your hand, you wonder what he could mean by that.

“Prove it how?”

“You know a thing or two about that, I think,” Callum says suggestively, and your body burns like fire again.

You scoff, “I do. But how do I know you won’t just up and leave again after? Hmm?”

“I won’t,” Callum grabs your unoccupied hand, “I won’t this time, I promise. I don’t think I could leave you again.”

“Okay, then,” you admit defeat, “Show me just how much you really love me, Mr. Turner.”

Callum leads you to the elevator, where he presses the floor button and stands beside you, eyeing you up and down. When the doors close, he pulls you to his side as he finishes his coffee. You rest your head on his arm, sipping your own drink. Callum’s hand grips your waist, his touch hot even through your clothes. You're nearly shaking with nerves when you reach the top floor. The two of you had your go-arounds while together, of course. But it was never anything emotionally charged. You’re hoping Callum really does show you how much he loves you this time and doesn’t leave you hanging. He lets you follow him to his room, where he fumbles to unlock the door with his phone. Callum heads to the windows to close the drapes, his back muscles rippling under his shirt, much to your delight. He turns around and catches your gaze, maintaining eye contact with you as he returns to where you stand. Callum wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you to him after you sit your coffee down. He is taller than you, so you have to look up at him when standing so close. A closed-lip smile spreads on his face as he takes in your features. Callum pushes a stray strand of hair out of your face before leaning in.

“Do you want this?” he asks, his lips barely brushing against yours.

“Yes,” you whisper, “I do want this. Prove it to me.”

Callum captures your lips with his finally, and everything negative you felt about your relationship falls away. The comfort you’ve always found in him flows back into you as he guides his tongue along your bottom lip. Callum’s hands find your hair, where they tangle themselves in your locks for leverage. You allow him to explore your mouth softly as if it was his first time in uncharted territory. Your arms are around him, and your palms are settled on his back as he slowly moves the two of you over to the giant bed in the middle of the suite. You sit on the edge of it as Callum pulls his shirt off. He’s a little more muscular than the last time you saw him. You drink in his broad shoulders and toned chest, his thick biceps resting by your head as his fists dig into the mattress on either side of your legs. Callum is leaning over you, his demeanor shifting to something more dominant. He kisses you again before his hand moves to your chin, tilting your head to meet his gaze.

“Go lay on the pillows and get ready for me.”

A surge of excitement rushes through your veins as you nod, moving backward to where the pillows sit at the top of the bed. You peel off your shirt and jeans, kicking them off the side of the bed onto the floor where your shoes are haphazardly lying. Callum climbs over you, taking in the sight of you. He lays beside you, patting his spread, underwear-clad thighs for you to sit. You oblige, his chest pressed to your back as you relax into his embrace. Callum’s large hands rub over your hips and legs, his skin hot against yours. He buries his nose into your neck, leaving a trail of kisses along your shoulder and up your throat. Callum then lightly traces your jaw with his tongue before he reaches your ear, nibbling the shell of it. His hands travel from your thighs to your hips, all the way up your sides, until they reach your covered breasts. He squeezes them as he sucks a mark behind your ear, out of sight. You squirm lightly in his lap, inhaling sharply through your nose at the feeling of his teeth on your sensitive skin. Moving your hair out of the way from your ears, Callum continues his assault of bites on the back of your neck as his fingers slip underneath the cups of your bra. You hum as his fingers toy with your nipples, your head tossed back against his shoulder as he does so. This gives him more access to your neck, where he leaves open-mouthed kisses on the skin there. You feel him grow hard against your tailbone as he twists and rubs your sensitive nubs, eliciting moans from you.

“I miss the way you say my name,” Callum whispers in your ear, letting one of his hands travel back down to your stomach, where he slips a hand beneath the band of your underwear, “Say it.”

“Callum,” you gasp as his fingers ghost your heat, lightly brushing against your clit.

“Just like that, doll,” Callum grins into your shoulder, where his lips press to your skin.

He helps you out of your underwear, pulling it down your legs until you’re able to kick them off. Callum tosses one of your legs over his thigh, giving him easier access to you. You reach behind your back to unhook your bra, throwing it off the side of the bed.

“Kind of unfair that I’m the only naked one,” you frown.

“Be patient, I want to play with you first,” Callum kisses your cheek.

He prods your lips open with two of his fingers, allowing you to suck them in. You lave your tongue around them, coating them with your spit enough for Callum to be satisfied, “Good girl,” he coos.

He then gently circles your clit with his two slicked fingers, and your hips buck involuntarily. He uses his other arm to press you firmly against him. Callum continues to play with the bundle of nerves before letting a finger test your entrance to gauge how wet you’ve become. He’s able to slip a finger inside without struggle, curling it against the familiar spot that makes you groan. As he adds another finger, you grip Callum’s arm as his fingertips massage your g spot. 

“Callum, please,” you whine.

“Please, what?” Callum feels himself getting painfully harder against your back at the sounds you’re making, “Gotta use your words.”

“Show me how much you love me,” you beg, “Fuck me already.”

“Impatient, are we?” Callum smirks before removing his fingers from you and putting them in his mouth this time, relishing the wetness of your cunt, “God, the way you taste,” he moans.

Callum moves you over and off his lap so he can remove his pants and underwear before hovering over you. He braces himself on his arms on either side of your head, bringing his face to yours, “Are you sure you want this?” he asks again.

“Yes,” you say, grabbing his face and looking him in the eye, “I want this.”

“Not that your begging wasn’t enough; I just needed to hear you say it,” he jokes, lining himself up to your entrance.

You playfully smack his chest before digging your nails into it as he pushes inside you slowly. You wrap an arm around his neck, tangling your fingers into his hair. Callum fully seats himself inside you, his forehead pressed to yours. You wrap a leg around his waist, pulling him closer to you. Callum focuses on breathing properly, as your clenching around him makes it hard not to pound you into the mattress. You wiggle your hips a little, letting him know he could move. Callum holds your hips up, moving your legs over his shoulders to get a better angle. He pulls out just enough to thrust back in, gaining a steady rhythm. The noises you let out just urge Callum to go faster and harder as he kisses along your thighs.

“I love you,” Callum says, biting down on your thigh and causing you to yelp, which makes him grin.

“I love you too,” you say breathlessly, your hands gripping his biceps for leverage.

“Do you believe me when I say it now?” Callum bites his lip, feeling your walls clenching harder around him.

You’re close, and he can feel it. He reaches between your bodies and presses a thumb to your clit, rubbing tight circles against it.

“Yes,” you say, almost illegible, “Fuck, I believe you, Cal.”

“Good,” he pants, sweat beading on his forehead.

Your fingernails dig into his muscles as you feel yourself about to let go, your stomach tightening into a knot. Callum feels his orgasm creeping up as he snaps his hips faster against your ass, his grip on your thighs almost bruising. Your orgasm hits suddenly, like a tsunami of pleasure taking over your senses. Your body shakes as Callum’s own climax surges through him, your convulsing cunt milking his cock. You’re both gasping for air as Callum lets your back fall against the bed as he pulls out, collapsing next to you. 

“That was…”

“Amazing?” Callum turns his head to look at you, 

“Yeah,” you’re quick to pull the duvet over you as your sweat cools on your skin, “Better than any time before, honestly.”

“Agreed,” Callum puts an arm behind his head to rest on, “I’m still sorry for not telling you how I felt. I didn’t really know what it was at the time.”

“It’s okay now, Cal,” you roll over on your side, putting a hand on his chest, “You don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

Callum kisses the top of your head, “Okay. I won’t.”

The next day, when the script is read over again, tensions are definitely not as high. You don’t struggle as much with your lines, and being around Callum is easier. You’re glad it all worked out; maybe this time, it’ll last without confusion.

[raayllum]

They share her flying steed on the way back to the Banther Lodge, his limbs still sluggish and eyes burning. Callum knows, also, that Rayla is keeping an eye on his breathing. Kosmo had said the darkness and corruption would overwhelm him, but... maybe the spell was too small? Or maybe it would take him over slowly, but...

He rests his head against her shoulder blades and dozes as much as he dares to avoid falling off.

Eventually, they take a break near the fringes of the Moonshadow forest to make camp, and she helps him down with a steady arm braced along his back. "Careful, there," she teases, gentle and warm, but a shadow of guilt flickers in her eyes.

He holds onto her turn and lets them sink to a sitting position in the soft grass.

Soren takes one look, then peels away with an overly cheery tone, "We should go foraging! In the forest! Hey, who do you think can get the most berries?" and then herds everyone else away.

Runaan gives him a lingering look, and then follows the rest; he and Ethari will go to return to the Silvergrove soon without them.

Then Callum stares at Rayla and waits, till her lips twist and she sniffles, her voice all wobbly and small as she begins, "Callum—"

He places his hand over hers. "Thank you. For having my back in there."

She stares back at him, tears in her eyes. "How can you say that? I was going to—"

"—do what I asked you to do," he says firmly, giving her fingers—the same fingers that had drawn back the arrow that would've taken his life—a squeeze before he cups her face. He traces her indigo marking, brushing away tears as he does so. "I needed you to back me up. I needed you to trust me. To do the right thing." Even as he did the wrong thing, of sorts. "Thank you."

She lets out a sob and throws her arms around his neck; Callum holds her while she shakes and cries, some of his own tears and adrenaline seeping out of him. Fuck, he'd been so tired and so scared and so...

He can feel her heart beating through her chest. Her heart for Xadia. Him, for Xadia, and—

He holds her tighter. "We'll figure something else out, before he comes back. We have time."

Seven years and nineteen (seventeen now?) days. He'll make each one of them count.

I don't want to be separated again.

"You were willing to do what you had to do," he says softly, rubbing her back. However the corruption works, he is corrupted, and that means, when Aaravos comes back, he'll be able to... "Because that's who you are, selfless, brave, and I love you for it. I depend on you for it. And now we can figure out how to do what we want to do... To make sure you're stuck with me."

She hiccups, her tearful laugh still more of a sob, but her eyes are brighter when she pulls back to look at him and wipes away some of his own tears, her thumbs gently caressing his cheeks. "Do you promise?" she says, whatever levity she's mustered up flickering this time too.

He holds her hand and kisses her palm and fingers. With enough time, they can make anything work—finding her and him again after her return had made that clear. Seven years will have to be enough.

"Yes," he swears. "I do."

[russellsppttemplates]

A little hope (Lando Norris) (Part 1)

Lando will give you all the time you need if it means you will work things out

Note: english is not my first language. I don't think I've ever written a piece without closure/closing off the subject like this, so constructive thoughts are appreciated... might do a part two depending on how this one goes, let me know your thoughts on it! ✨️

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions a couple's fight, self-deprecation moments, body image insecurity, signs and symptoms of anxiety

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Here, gorgeous", Lando said as he opened the door for you, letting you in first and following suit, finding your places around the table as the meeting was about to start.

"Thanks, love", you whispered as you set your things down on the table, turning on your laptop as you gathered everything you needed to show them.

"Whatever you want to do, we'll do", Lando noted a while into the meeting already. He didn't know that much about graphic design, so if his graphic designer said they should do it, they were going to.

The frown on your face, however, didn't seem to agree, "I spoke to the marketing guys, as well", you looked at Anna as she nodded, "and they think this is also the best strategy if we want to expand it to this market", you clarified.

"Then that's how it's going to go, Y/N", Callum asserted, noticing your slightly antsy posture as you moved on to the next point of discussion.

This had been happening for a while, the thoughts plaguing you with the fact that, in the simples of terms, you worked for your boyfriend. While the relationship had nothing to do with how you got the job and position, and inside the team, no one seemed too phased by it, part of you wondered if you were taken differently because of your relationship.

"Alright, Y/N?", Tara said, calling you back to planet Earth, "yes, sorry. But I agree with that, yes, but could we do this earlier, maybe this week? It would match up with all the dates we have", you answered, earning everyone's approval as they booked the shoot for Friday.

A knock on the door startled you as a woman peeked, "I'm sorry, I'm looking for Anna? From Marketing?", she asked, looking at you, "are you her?", she pointed her finger to you.

"She's my girlfriend, Y/N, she's our graphic designer", Lando said with a big smile.

"That's Anna", you said as the ginger haired girl raised her hand, "I'm Y/N", you murmured the last part.

The uneasiness took over your body again when you noticed the woman's look directed at you, a mixture of a silent scoff and a despised expression.

"Do you need a ride home, baby?", Lando asked once the meeting ended, "I have to go somewhere before going home, but thanks anyway", you said, kissing his lips chastely and bidding goodbye to everyone.

"Is she alright? She seemed off today", Max commented as he saw your interaction with his bestfriend, "this project had been taking a lot out of her, she's been tired, that's all", he said as he looked at your back as you walked away from them, "at least I hope it's that".

Only it really wasn't that, and with your calendar and Lando's calendar, you only saw eachother again on the day of the shoot.

The fight you had the day before still resonated with you and Lando, each of you measuring your words and how you had behaved.

"In Quadrant, you are my superior and I respect that", you pointed between you two, "but I'm my own person and if there's something I say, I want to be heard as me, Y/N, graphic designer for Quadrant", you cleared, "And in the meetings, if I give an idea, I want it to be heard and seen as coming from a graphic designer with experience and knowledge, not your girlfriend who you're afraid will get hurt if you say no and always let me get my way", you explained.

"But who said that I don't respect you like that? Because I do! I've considered every idea you've said like I'd consider them if somebody else said them!", Lando attempted, "do you think my love for you is not genuine? Do you think my appreciation for you or how much I value, as a person and as a member of the team, depends on what? What do you think this is?", Lando snapped, looking angrier than you've ever seen him. He usually kept a calm stance no matter how stressful the situation was, so the slight raise in his and his tone was enough to show he wasn't his usual self.

"Is it my fault you are my girlfriend? Are we putting this relationship, our relationship, in a basket of cons for us and for our lives?", he sounded genuinely hurt at his admission.

You didn't mean it that way, and you knew he knew that, but the fact that his mind went there and considered it enough for him to say it out loud hurt you.

Despite Tara's insistence that you could be one of the models for the hoodie she claimed was made for you, you declined the invitation, feeling that it would only add to your self deprecation and the very few comments you had seen online about how "dating Lando has landed you a great gig when so many people are looking for jobs themselves". You weren't also in the best terms with your boyfriend, and since he was modelling too, it would hardly be a good idea to be so close to eachother whilst still working in front of the team.

"We printed the backdrop you sent us, Y/N!", the photographer, James, and his colleague, Kai, called for you as you went to inspect the piece. It wasn't greatly detailed, but had certain points already measured so the editing and designing would be easier for you once you go the pictures back from them.

"I've never done it like this myself, but a friend of mine from university has done this before and he said it was so much easier and the models can move freely as long as they're within the frame", you explained, sharing knowledge in case they ever found themselves with a similar issue in need of this solution.

So absorbed in the conversation about different techniques and the words they had done before, you missed Lando arriving to the studio along with Max who had started making sure everything was running as scheduled.

"First, it's model two and three", you said as you looked at the schedule Max held, "so that's...", you trailed off, looking again in the list to make sure you were calling the right names, "Lucy and Lando", you stated, looking around for them and seeing the boy laugh at something she had said.

"Guys!", Max yelled, "it's your turn", he whistled, grabbing their attention so they could get in position.

James kept telling them what worked best as Kai worked with the lights, carefully readjusting and pointing out whenever they weren't on the frame you had specified.

"Now it's just the male models", Kai said as Lucy stepped down.

"I'm sorry to bother, but do you think we can bring out the snack table around now?", she questioned as she clipped her hair back, not wanting to mess with the work that was done on the short blonde locks, "I woke up later than I wanted and I had to rush here so I didn't have much for breakfast", she cringed.

"I think we can, yes. There's coffee in there, too, so I might join you", you smiled, walking alongside her to the table the catering team had set up. You were planning to spend the whole morning in there, so food and drinks were ordered to keep everyone happy and content.

"Rough night?", Lucy asked as she say you make a triple latte from the expresso machine.

That would be a way to put it, you thought. You hated leaving things unresolved with anyone, but knowing you and Lando went to sleep without knowing where you stood, it was hard for you to close your eyes and fall asleep despite the tiredness you felt. You rolled in your bed countless times, changing the pyjamas you were wearing three times until you accepted that the choice of clothing wasn't what was keeping you from falling asleep. In total, you probably slept four hours, and you were hoping the coffee would help with that.

"I remember when me and Lando used to go out, there was this week where it was four nights!", she smiled, stirring the hot tea in her cup as she took one of the small sandwiches.

"You and Lando used to go out? I didn't realise", you asked, the curiosity killing you and the dread to know the answer even more.

"I mean going out as in out of the house and into clubs, parties and such", she laughed brightly, and even that didn't seem to settle your heart, "we found out we have mutual friends that work for the same chain of clubs. We never slapped a label on it, I think neither of us wanted the attachment or rules you had to follow, you know? He's always wanted to be free on his endeavours and do as he pleases".

"Sure", you gulped, drinking the hot coffee as you thought about her words, not going to far, probably for your own good, since you heard something fall, "I better go see what that is, excuse me", you smiled lightly.

As it turned out, there was a piece of metal holding the backdrop that had a smaller piece holding it together that wasn't the right size, "we have to tools in there, let me just change it quickly", you said, "you guys can go and grab a coffee and some snacks, they're really good", you offered, "I'll sort out the programming for the next set while I'm at it, too".

Carrying the piece to the room where you kept the tools, you turned on your laptop and ran the code, fixing the metal piece in the mean time when you heard someone walk in the room, "was the coffee that bad? I- Oh, hi", you muttered, seeing Lando walk in and sit in front of you as you worked on the table.

"Can we talk, please?", Lando wondered. Even though he was clearly tired and his usual bright eyes had required the makeup artist to apply eye drops on him twice already, he still looked as handsome as ever. His curls was bouncy and the green coloured hoodie was a perfect match against his tanned skin and the minimal jewellery he had on.

"Sure", you asked, setting the screwdriver down and looking at him.

"I want to apoligise if I made you feel unworthy, professionally and personally. It was never my intention, Y/N. I want to be there for you, and I want to protect you and help make sure nothing bad happens, okay? I'd hate to be the reason you feel bad, baby.

"But I also need you to tell me what's wrong, because I know something is bothering you and I don't care who I have to call or what I have to do to help, but you need to tell me", he stated.

Your eyes started to feel tight and threatened to spill tears you were sure had been building up for more than a week, "I'm a confident woman, I know what I'm worth", you reasoned, "growing up left from what society thinks women should behave and look like, I've had to grow thick skin and be confident in what I do. It's not that you've had other partners or flings before, it's the way I'm being labelled as your girlfriend. Suddenly, I lost my name, my identity and I'm something to someone, that's what people see.

"I love you, and I love being with you. I've had so many opportunities that I wouldn't have had in other jobs and in other relationships, but I'm not sure losing who I am is a fair price to pay", you added. "I need to think this through. I'm not in the right state to argue this and risk saying something I don't mean and hurt you in the process. I don't want to hurt you, Lando, and I don't won't to be hurt either, I'm sorry", you sighed, looking into his colourful eyes.

"I love you, Y/N, so much", he said as he took a step forward, testing the waters and not getting resistance from you which led him to press his lips on your forehead, depositing a slow and soft kiss there, "I don't want to hurt you either, but... Think about it, okay? Really give it some thought because there's a way and we will find it", he attempted, realising it wasn't his place to tell you how you should feel about something and finding a common ground.

"Sorry to interrupt, guys, but we need your opinion on something, Y/N", Kai asked, sympathetically smiling as you excused yourself from the room and back to the studio area.

Lando went outside to cool off a little, thinking about your discussion and taking the opportunity that he wasn't needed inside for a while.

Had he been a pushover? Was that how you felt? You hadn't been yourself in the past two weeks, but he had put it down to the fact that you had been to the race with him and then Quadrant had this project that you wanted to see through from begging to end and it was on a tight schedule. You wouldn't be persuaded to take it easy, so Lando did his best to make sure you were as well as possible, but he seemed to have failed.

"I don't know how long it will be before they notice I'm gone and need help, so I'm advising you to spit it out while you can", Max jumped in, sitting on the floor and against the wall next to him.

"Just tired, didn't sleep well", Lando muttered. He didn't sleep at all, truth be told, images of your shattered expression kept replaying in his head as he tried to figure out what was happening to you two.

"I suggest you tell me the truth", Max squinted, "so, try again".

"Y/N and I have hit a rough patch? Our first big fight? I'm not sure", he admitted, "she isn't telling me much, but I think it's about the fact that she works for Quadrant, as in the company I, her boyfriend, own and something about treating her like and employee and not my girlfriend", Lando let out, starting to get worked up, "she tells me this, and I've kept my distance, and that's not been good either. Didn't she say that I should treat her like the employee she is?", Lando snapped as his body language showed another set of emotions.

"She is an employee, yes, and she deserves to be treated as such. But she's also the person you come home to, she was someone before she met you, she is a person outside of your relationship and you shouldn't meddle things. You know that dating you isn't easy and she's been getting the backhand of it", Max reasoned as Lando listened intently, "the social media team have been taking care of it, but there have been comments that are less than kind about her on Instagram, the email marketing too...! It's shitty, less than reasonable accusations, but it has been there... Y/N has never liked to be discredited, and I'm not saying you do it per se, but maybe it's where you should go first", he tapped his friend's back.

"She's not letting me in, how am I supposed to know?!", Lando got antsy again, feet tapping the ground incessantly as his breath got quicker and shallower as he struggled to focus a little.

"Is this rage you feel? Anger?", Max checked, handing Lando the ice-cold water bottle so he could focus on the temperature and not spiral out, "you're good, mate? What do you feel?".

"It's fear that I might lose her", Lando said as he allowed himself to cry, "I'm afraid of losing her because of something I did to her unintentionally. Because being my girlfriend is bad for her and I can't be selfish and tell her to be with me when she's suffering. Because I can't help that I'm proud of her and I won't to belt out how proud I am of her work and that I have her?", he let it all out.

"Have you thought about how it feels for her, though? Even for you, there are comments left and right about how you got to where you are, so imagine how it is for her", Max thought out loud, letting it all sink in.

By the time they came back to the studio, the models were gone and, by the looks of it, so were you as they tidied the place.

"Lando, Max", James called, "we're just finishing up and then we'll also get going. Y/N had to leave, she said something about her mother calling her and she needed to go. Didn't look life threateningly urgent, but she had to get going. Also- Lucy, I think her name was -, she left her number here for you", the photographer said, "she asked me to make sure I handed it to you", he smiled, "do you need mine too? I'm assuming it's for the contract payments?".

"Yes, there was a mishap with her contract, but we checked and yours are still there, no worries with that", Lando lied, impressed at his ability to come up with a half decent excuse.

Walking up to his car, Lando threw the card James gave him in one of the bins outside before getting in with Max, "let me just send this text, one minute".

To lovie ✨️

I'll give you all of the time that you need, but I'm not leaving this, I'm not leaving us. You're the love of my life and I'll wait as long as you need me to, so whenever you want to talk, I'm here, baby.

I love you to the moon and the stars 🤍

"I'll be damned if lose her, Max", Lando admitted, resting his elbows on the steering wheel and supporting his head on his hands.

"You two were made for eachother, Lando. You'll figure it out", his best friend comforted.

As he was reversing out of the parking space, his phone beeped with a notification.

From lovie ✨️

Thank you for letting me do that, I appreciate it more than words can say.

I love you to the planets and around the Milky Way.

For now, it brought a smile to his face, and a little hope. And he would hold on to that little hope.

Part 2

[stuck-in-jelly]

Happy Festival of Milda Valentines Day!

I've been thinking a lot about the human kingdoms and decided they need a little bit more love in more ways than one and what better way to do it then trying to make it look like the Xadia Handbook!

Hopefully these memes make way more sense now.

And a special thank you to @youruinedmylifebynotbeingreal for letting me show them and helping me with beta reading!! 🫶

Image IDs Under Text:

Cover Page:

Image ID: on the left side of the page a sketch of Janai and Amaya embracing in a dance after Janai had proposed frames the text. Janai’s eyes are half lid and she is smiling. Amaya stares back at her with a pleased expression as flower petals rain down around them from Janai’s proposal outfit. On the right is a sketch of their 3-tiered wedding cake decorated with flowers and a figurine of them embracing. End ID.

“What message do you think it gives the people if you choose to marry a human?”

“There is no message. The only message is that I’ve chosen this amazing woman as my wife.”

Prince Karim to his sister, Queen Janai. Book 4: Earth, Chapter 2: Fallen Stars

Image ID: in the background Callum and Rayla lock hands. End ID.

A Simple Guide to Human Courtship.

The people of the Human Kingdoms are vast in size, to assume all Humans preform the same courtship rituals would be a bit of an insult. From the proud and plentiful Katolians of the East to the humbler and a wise Evenerans of the South each Kingdom host its own unique style of Courtship and Marriage.

Image ID: To the left of the paragraph there is a sketch of Terry and Claudia embracing in a dance both of them lovingly gazing at each other. On the right is a sketch of young Callum and Claudia. Callum blushes with a small bundle of flowers in his hand, Claudia next to him smiles with a gap tooth as she places the flower in her hair. End ID.

This guide aims to give a quick and simple breakdown of the human kingdoms for those lucky in love looking to court a human. Just remember, all humans are different and some are more traditional than others, some may even wish to abandoned tradition all together. What is important is your intentions and how clear you make them.

CHAPTER INDEX

Page 1: Katolis

Page 2: Del Bar

Page 3: Neolandia

Page 4: Duren

Page 5: Evenere

Page 6: The Festival of Milda

Image ID: To the left of the text is a sketch of Soren and Corvus over looking Katolis from the ramparts. To the right Sara and Harrow sit on the stairs of Katolis Harrow offering up a flower to Sarai as she leans forward a hand on her chest and a large smile. Below the text Allen leans forward his eyes closed and a soft smile as he holds out an extremely large flower to Lujanne in her human disguise much to her delight. End. ID.

All of the page are divided into two Columns.

Page 1

Column one:

Katolis Courtship:

Image ID: to the left of the text the red and gold Katolis Flag Displaying the Uneven Towers hangs off the margins. End ID

Birth and local raised Katolians have the longest courting rituals of all of the human kingdoms, it can take anywhere from a year to two years for a couple to begin ‘officially’ dating even during active courtship.

When a Katolian wishes to court a partner they begin with flora. Paying close attention to ‘flower language’ they select a single flower that best expresses how they feel towards their partner. Although they may need to be extra careful, if their intended partner is not originally from Katolis, their flower language may differ, causing some confusion, or at the worse, offense.

Image ID: A smaller text box is bordered by thin gold lines. Inside the box the text reads: “The flower Viren gifted to Lissa, a lily, was meant to symbolize her passionate knowledge of music and the arts as well as ever lasting love. However, being from Del Bar, a lily symbolized death and the severing of an innocent soul from its body. Luckily for Viren, Lissa had known what he meant.” After that the box a drawing of Viren’s hand holding a white lily in his hand End ID.

The offering of the flower can go several different ways: if placed on the right side of their body it is an invitation to continue courtship, if placed on the left the person declines, and if the flower is returned or otherwise discarded well, the message is rather clear.

If the flower offering is accepted the Katolian will then begin the first of many many dates. An old wives tale says that a couple must first have exactly a thousand dates before continuing courtship, however in modern times most Katolians will call it on the 100th date.

Mountain Regions:

The people who have made their homes along the mountain ridges and cold peaks of Katolis are among the loudest of Katolians when it comes to courtship. This is largely in part of Del Barians who find themselves feeling homesick drifting down West, where the weather is cooler and the culture more like home.

Here, courtship tends to be shorter and bolder with the offering of a flower being accompanied by lavish gifts of furs and displays of courage and strength.

There is even a specific Courtship Tradition native only to the people along the edge of the Cursed Caldera in which to show a partner they truly wish to be with them, will scale the mountain and pluck a blue rose to bring back down to their lover.

Image ID: Blue Roses hang along the margins of the page. End ID.

Colume 2:

Image ID: The shillotue of two dragons flying in the sky looms over the text. End ID.

Border Lands:

The people of the border lands to the East differ the most from their fellow Katolians. Being along the border their communities are not as large, their fields not as ripe, and dragons threaten at the edge of the border.

As a result Katolians of this area are far more reserved, their courting rituals being as subtle as they are. When a Border Land Katolian wishes to court they will bring offerings of food; oranges already peeled and cut, apples sliced and displayed neatly, cool drinks after a hard days work, and sometimes if one is feeling bold a full meal cooked and prepared.

A local ‘Whistle Song,’ can also be performed. It begins with one of pair whistling a song to the other, if the other joins and whistle together in harmony, the feeling is reciprocated. This is sometimes done with an ocarina or another wind instrument.

Image ID: A sketch of Claudia’s Ocarina. End ID.

Wedding Traditions:

It is believed to be bad luck for the soon to be newlyweds to see each other even up to a week leading to the wedding ceremony. However, some Katolian will participate in something of a teasing game, sending friends and family in their stead to tell give their partners playful messages.

On the wedding day the couple are both blindfolded and escorted to the front of the chapel by a specially selected somebody often called their ‘Honor Guard.’ At the alter the blindfolds are removed by the partners together after exchanging vows. Once the blindfold is removed they are handed two porcelain bells that are shattered on the alter scattered apple seeds that are tossed in the air.

After the ceremony the couple will preform what is called “The Uneven Dance,” in which the pair dance on one foot at all times, as the dance goes on, the music becomes faster and the couple must keep up till the end of the song.

Another common wedding game is “The Scale Game,” the partners sitting on kneeling pillows will attempt to balance both sides of a large scale using a variety of items provided by guest. If the couple is successful in using all items to balance the scales good fortune is said to come their way.

Page 2.

Column 1:

Del Bar Courtship:

Image ID: to the left of the text the brown and gold Del Barian Flag Displaying the Serpent of the Mountains hangs off the margins. End ID

Del Barians are among of the craftiest and loudest of the Human Kingdoms when it comes to courtship, there is nothing subtle about their attempts to woo each other and it often becomes subject to public affair.

When a Del Barian wishes to court someone they will invite them to a series of challenges called “Trails of The King,” named after The First King of Del Bar who famously courted his husband by challenging him to a series of competitions including Match Crossbow, a Gladiatorial Duel, Weapon Forging, and Throat Singing.

The trails are tests of strength, wit, creativity, endurance, and craftsmanship. These challenges can range to anything from metal-smithing to a good old fashioned race but either-way the outcomes of the test aren’t as important as how the pair feels after them. If both are satisfied and happy they will begin to officially date.

Image ID: A smaller text box is bordered by thin gold lines. Inside the box the text reads: “Soren squirmed. His pauldrons clanked as his shoulders slumped. “They aren’t games. They’re test. Ugh...I’m really messing this up.”

Reflections: “Changing of The Guard” Next to the box is a drawing of Soren in his pajamas, one foot on a wooden box, one hand on his hip and the other raising up his sword in triumph. End ID.

When a couple wishes to wed they will either craft or commission ‘Engagement Daggers.’ These blades are often engraved with family crest or meaningful symbols and are displayed at the front entrance to their home to ward off evil.

Serpentongue River Region:

Serpentongue Del Barians are mostly similar to their mountain dwelling kin; however, these Del Barian show more interested in poetry and song then test of power and strength. River Del Barians will write songs and/or poems to either preform themselves or gather a group to help them preform the piece for their potential partner.

If the person decides they would like to reciprocate they will later bring their own piece to preform in turn, however if they do not, they will leave in the middle of the performance. A more aggressive way to decline is by shooting an arrow from a crossbow at their feet.

Another smaller tradition in the rural regions involves a Shawl Exchange, in which the couple will exchange handmade shawls to each other, the designs include intricate stories woven into fabric.

Image ID: On the right to the paragraph is a sketch of Corvus’s Cello. End ID.

Column 2:

Wedding Traditions:

Del Barian weddings themselves are a huge affair. Once a couple is in engaged, both sides of the family unite to plan the event after which they will join each other on a hunt to bring back the pelt of their kill. The united family will decide on what to turn the pelt into; blankets, clothes, and rugs are most common. After it is made, the item is given to the couple as wedding gift.

Image ID: grey, slightly pink in hue Trysting Stones of Various sizes hover over the next paragraph. End ID.

Once the exchange of the Engagement Daggers is done through a Trysting Stone guests will erupt in a traditional throat song, and imminently afterwards lead into a dance/game called “The Silver-Tongued Serpent Dance,” in which wedding guests will gather in snake formation with the lead of the group wearing the head of a dragon. The ‘Serpent-Dragon’ will encircle the couple in a dance and the pair will attempt to escape the serpent’s dance by ‘slaying’ the beast.

However, in the Serpentongue Region, instead of slaying the serpent the couple will play tug-a-war with the serpent’s tongue till they can pull it loose from the head and escape.

The rest of the night is a celebration that many non-Del Barians joke is, ‘loud enough to wake the ancient ones’. Friends, Family, and even strangers are welcomed to join in the festivities. Sprawling tables of feast, echoing drums through the night as guest partake in games like Match Crossbow, Wrestling, Chess, and Storytelling. The celebration tends to lead well into the night with the couple welcoming dawn unified.

After the wedding many couples can choose participate in “Wind Elk’s Retreat” where the couple spends a few months traveling together searching for adventures to one day become tales for their family and children if they wish to have them.

Page 3

Column 1:

Neolandia Courtship: Image ID: To the left of the text the grey and black Neolandian Flag displaying a Neolandian Elephant hangs off the margins. End ID.

The people of Neolandia are straightforward with their courtship, if someone wishes to woo a partner they will outright express their intentions, being people from a harsher climate they would rather cut to the chase, though of course this isn’t without romance.

To being courtship Neolandians start with clay, with it they craft whatever item they wish; vases, bowls, figurines, etc. These items are extremely diverse, with some being simple and others extremely complex.

Image ID: three different styles vases in a need row. The first is a black and purple vase, it is short and has horn like handles near the bottom. The second is a taller more traditional brown case with cracks. The last is a wide light brown vase with cracks. End ID.

When the item is fished the Neolandian will approach their potential partner and offer the item. It is encouraged for the receiver of the clay creation to barter with the gift and bring something of equal or greater value in a show of resourcefulness. This practice is called “Barter For The Beloved.”

Image ID: A smaller text box is bordered by thin gold lines. Inside the box the text reads: “A Peanut for a place brings a home but a Barter for The Beloved will fill the rooms.” Prince Kasef’s Grandmother, Queen Yara. End ID.

When the pair decides to date they spend their time living with each other first. Their days spent in a shared space will show if they are truly a good match and still wish to start a home together.

Central Eboreus:

The world renowned Jousting Tournament held in Eboreus invites Neolandia’s strongest warriors, and these competitors may were a cloth from their lover tucked into their armlet as a show of devotion.

Otherwise, if not entered into the competition most pairs will simple invite each other out for the Tournament Festivities and treat themselves to Chocolate Cardamom Cupcakes.

Rural Region:

For those who reside in the barren lands of Neolandia, pairs who decide to wed will choose a spot where they work together to build a home from the ground up. These homes stay in the families for generations with children adding onto the home when they choose a partner in life.

Image ID: Stone formations. End ID.

Column 2:

Wedding Traditions: Image ID: a sketch of an ornate box with intricate carvings and jewelry. End ID.

When proposing Neolandians will get down on their knees and bow their head while lifting up a “Matrimony Box.” These ornate boxes are family heirlooms full of precious gemstones and inheritance passed down generation to generation. Most families regardless of status have these.

The wealth of the families will decide heavily on how extravagant the wedding is. Nobles from Eboreus will include a parade of Neolandian Elephants accompanied with music and showers of poppies through the street. The common Neolandian however, will have a smaller ceremony with friends and family.

On the night before the wedding both partners will have their faces and arms painted with dye made from flowers and spices. The designs are intricate and many will choose to paint Neolandian Elephant tusk on the sides of their face for good fortune.

At the ceremony a large garland of poppies is draped over the shoulders of the lovers, and in between them the ornate boxes lay open. After giving their vows and placing their own personal jewels into their partners box are officially wed.

The party afterwords consist of a night full of entertainment held at the “Lovers Stage.” Despite the name, the Lovers never once step onto the stage, instead it is reserved for guests. Entertainment is very important in Neolandian weddings, guests and family members will come with all sorts of trinkets, musical instruments, talents, and trades to show off to the newly joined family.

Two common forms of entertainment are: “Skinks Illusion” and “Wrath of The Bumblescorp.”

Hiring Dark Mages for weddings used to be a common practice, these mages often would preform The Skinks Illusion; a memorizing performance of lights and glitter that cast beautiful stained-glass figures in the air. Though after the passing of Prince Kaseef the practice has gone down drastically.

Wrath of The Bumblescorp however, is a highly customizable and fun experience. The performance is a non-verbal comedy play full of music, dancing, and exaggerated hjinks meant to show the couple they will always be safe from harm (Bumblescorps) when they have each

Image ID: A sketch of a singular bumblescorp threatens. End ID.

Page 4:

Column 1:

Duren Courtship: Image ID: To the left of the text the blue and gold Durenian Flag displaying a closed flower hangs off the margins. End ID.

The people of Duren have a laid back way of courting and in general dating. A playful way many Durenians will flirt is by taking a small bundle of wheat and dusting both of their intended partner’s shoulders, this often indicates interest and invites the other to join in if they wish to.

Most dates for Durenians involve the couple venturing on long picnics and walks into one of the many sprawling stone gardens. Berylgarten’s most famous garden has ‘The Wall of Lovers’, where hundreds of couples have visited to etch their names into the stone walls with the encouragement of the groundskeepers.

However, above all else Durenian’s value honesty and truth, through all stages of courting and dating Durenians will check in with each other to see if both are still happy and fulfilled in the relationship, hashing out any issues and quarrels where they can. To non-Durenians this may come off as them not wanting to be in the relationship anymore and cause some misunderstandings.

When Durenians are becoming more serious in their courtship however, they switch tones drastically going from walks in the park to long discussions of their future and assets. Since many Durenians are farmers and live a pastoral life it can become difficult when pairs with their own separate farms and livestock wish to come together. Whose land will they end up on? Will they live separately? What if their livestock do not get along? These are just a few of the many situations the average Durenian must consider before committing themselves to marriage.

Image ID: A smaller text box is bordered by thin gold lines. Inside the box the text reads: “Bluebell, Bluebell! Fly over my head, And you shall have a crust of bread; And when I brew and when I bake, you shall have a piece of my wedding cake!.” Local game song from Duren Children.” To the left of the text is a sketch of Terry and Claudia dancing in bee costumes. End ID.

Eastern Duren:

A local sweet called ‘Sweet-Hearts Seed Bomb’ is a simple but delicious treat comprised of a variety of edible seeds and nuts rolled into a pastry ball, coated in powered sugar, and baked! Durenians will make a batch and decorate a cornucopia-like basket to give to partners on the holiday, “Sweetness Day.”

Column 2:

Image ID: A sketch of Rayla’s bread being pinned to a tree by an arrow hovers over the text. End ID.

Wedding Traditions:

When a Durenian wishes to propose marriage they will spend anywhere from months to years growing out their hair to chop off and bundle in an offering to their partner. This practice is called the “Mane of Hair Exchange.” The longer the bundle of hair the more significance it carries. The hair is often worn as an accessory or displayed.

The weddings themselves tend to be modest in size and primarily hosted outdoors, many rural Durenians will even have their weddings in their backyard among their fields and flowers. Before the ceremony couples will first eat two spoonfuls of honey before having any wedding cake or food.

At the Ceremony a crown of thorns called “The Crowns of Abundance” is worn by the couple and as they exchanges vows they will place flowers and leaves into the crown softening the thorns and shielding the lovers. To prick one selves during the ceremony is not a sign of bad luck but rather a sign that through it all the couple will prevail. In the end guest will toss rise grains along the couples path.

A common wedding game is called “Pluck The Chick,” A Innena chicken with a blue ribbon is placed inside of a pen along with several other chickens. The game has the player wear a blindfold and enter the pen to try and find up the Blue Ribboned Chick based on instructions and shouts from onlookers. There is usually a prize at the end of this game.

Image ID: A sketch of a Innena Chicken with its wings puffed out and head raised up.

The family of the couple before the wedding both make a wedding gift called ‘Harvest’s Luck.’ It is a broom made of a variety of dried herds, flowers, fruit skins, and grass. The specific arrangement can mean several things: Fertility, Abundance Luck, Joy. These bundles are often put on display at the wedding and afterwards mounted in front of the house to grant protection.

Image ID: A colorful array of potatoes, fruits, flowers, and breads in baskets and buckets. End ID.

Page 5:

Column 1:

Evenere Courtship: Image ID: To the left of the text the black and green Evenerean Flag displaying a Dragonfly hangs off the margins. End ID.

The people of the South are the humblest of the human kingdoms when it comes to courtship, marriage, and overall festivities. It isn’t uncommon for members of a family to be unaware that their relative is even dating anyone up until marriage is being discussed with how private they tend to be.

As such romance in the swamp-lands is full of hushed sweet-nothings, soft fox kisses behind the arches of trees, and subtle gazes from across the small communities along the waters. Wood carving plays a deep role in the beginning and end of any Evenereans courtship, when an Evenerean wishes to court someone they carve the person’s favorite animal into a figurine. The type of wood used in this carving have their own significant meanings and these carvings are often decorated with paint.

Image ID: On both sides of the text two bottles of perfume frame the paragraph. End ID.

If the feeling is reciprocated the pair will being dating, the time being spent crafting oils, candles, and perfumes for each other as well and teaching their partners their on survival skills for swamp-life the two gaining knowledge, skill, and companionship with one another.

Image ID: A smaller text box is bordered by thin gold lines. Inside the box the text reads: “Do Evenreans even have weddings?” “What kind of Question is that?” Many Non-Evenerans have no idea what a Evenere wedding looks like and some even assume they have no ceremony. End ID.

Willow’s Blessing:

Evenere has a creation myth. It is said Willow was once a renounced carpenter, who spent their time aiding the people in their community; reinforcing boats, fixing shoes, building homes, and patching walkways. But one day a great flood took their community, homes that once stood proud had been swept away within an afternoon, boats rocked so terribly not even they could salvage it, and precious supplies needed for survival lost.

With the weight of the loss upon their back Willow ventured into the woods to harvest what they could but they knew the damage was far too great. To rebuild would be a heavy cost to the woods that sheltered them. Willow began to cry, at the base of an ancient tree. The tree hearing their cries and their plight offered them a choice, to join them and become part of the woods.

Column 2:

Willow wept, thick heavy tears of joy and the bog welcomed them, turning them into a vast groove of Weeping Willows so that their friends and family can rebuild. It is tradition to wed in the shade of A Weeping Willow, for Willow weeps happy tears for the couple and promises to shelter them and their families for years to come.

Wedding Traditions:

When a Eveneran wishes to propose they will take the wooden carving of the animal crafted in the beginning of their relationship and turn it into a set of wooden spoons called ‘Love Spoons’. This practice is not disrespectful in the slightest and is a grand gesture of love. Rather than the spoons being mounted or displayed Evenerans will use these spoons often if not everyday.

Image ID: A colored Lantern hangs off the margins, it is made out of wood, covered in vines and fireflies hover around the light. End ID.

Eveneran weddings tend to be small, private, events hosted at night as it is seen as a special time for the couple to be alone. Before the couple ventures to their chosen spot they will have dinner with the shared family called ‘Homecoming Night’. This dinner is small gathering of intimidate family and friends, unity candles are lit and they all partake in well wishes and blessings for the next time they met the pair will be married.

Once the dinner is over the couple will retreat to a spot they’ve set up earlier in the day. Typically underneath a willow tree where they’ve hung wind chimes and lanterns along the branches and cleared a spot for a fire. The pair wear a set of matching bell bracelets, light the fire and toss in oils, then dance together as they preform the Hum of The Dragonfly, a song comprised of only dragonfly-like humming their palms pressed against each other as they glide around the fire. It is seen as great fortune if the song draws Dragonflies to their ceremony.

After words the couples return home where family members out of respect have left small red boxes full of wedding gifts.

Image ID: A colorful sketch of a Lilac Willow Tree. End ID.

Page 6:

The Festival of Milda: Image ID: The text is frame by a thin golden box and mirror each other on both sides of the page is an ornate red heart covered in spiraling gold and more heart motifs. End ID.

Column 1:

The Silent Priestess.

Legend says long ago there was a wandering Priestess of Lady Justice named Milda, sworn to an oath of silence. As such Milda spent her days listening and observing the people around her. One day, on a several month long stay in Del Bar, Milda noticed a Leather-smith utterly enamored by a valiant warrior. For weeks she watched the Smith admire the Warrior, but never make a move.

One evening, when the Warrior road into Hinterpeak upon her horse, Milda hatched a plan. While the Warrior was busy resupplying in town Milda snuck to her horse, cutting a slit into the leather hobble strap of the saddle. When the Warrior attempted to mount her horse next the strap snapped.

The Warrior approached the Leather-smith in a huff, hoping for a simple fix. The Smith, although flustered, make quick skillful work. In awe of the Smith’s swift craftsmanship the Warrior begun to visit often and it wasn’t long till she begun to court the gentleman. By the eve of the following year the two had wed.

It is said Milda went on to successfully match make over 1000 couples in her lifetime with her mischief before peacefully passing away of old age the 2nd week of February.

Image ID: A sketch of a Priestess to Lady Justice stands with her arm slightly reached out, she wears a Litham and has a bored expression. End ID.

The priestess never married, uninterested in such affairs, but took pride in her work. Now she is honored as a symbol of Love and Mischief with a Festival held the 2nd week of February in her honor called ‘The Festival of Milda.’ Originally a Katolian Holiday, it has since spread throughout the Kingdoms.

Milda is most commonly represented with a Horse Skull, Ribbons, and Bells but festivities themselves vary region to region.

Katolis:

Katolis has the largest celebration, with a dedicated full week to the holiday where townsfolk and nobles-alike dress in white and take a silk golden ribbon that they will try to pin it to single friends and family without them noticing. The person then needs to keep the ribbon on that spot through out the week and find someone whose ribbon is in the same spot as them and share a dance at the Festival’s Square. It is common for pairs to conspire with each other to match-make friends.

But in recent times it has become more of a Festival celebrating all kinds of love with friends, family, and even couples partaking in event as a lighthearted game of sticking ribbons to loved ones. A carnival is held in the town where vendors, flowers, heart shaped pastries, games, and music fill the street.

Duren:

“Sweetness Day”- Being heavy suppliers for the Katolian Festival of Milda, they were the first to begin their own version of the Festival, theirs being a three-day event hosted in Eastern Duren.

This event however, focuses more on pastries and sweets! Braided-Bread shaped like a heart, chocolate rose bouquets, heart honeycombs, and Sweet-Hearts Seed Bombs. This atmosphere has caused many bakers throughout the land to visit in hopes of bringing home high quality ingredients and exchange trade secrets. Barius himself attends the festival.

Image ID: A gold box of sweets with a red ribbon lays slightly open. There are chocolate roses, a peanut butter cookie and a chocolate ball with white icing. End ID.

Del Bar:

“The Feast Of Lovers”- Young Del Barians will take a Pilgrimage up Hinterpeak to visit the Statue of The Goddess of Hunt. Superstition says if you leave offerings at the shrine she will bless you with luck. After the young Del Barians return, well after nightfall they attend the Feast.

The Feast of Lovers is a Musical Chairs-like event, when the music in the hall stops Del Barians scramble up from their seats and rush to a new spot to rotate the energy and meet more people.

Neolondia

“Gala of The Unwed”- Hosted in outskirts of Eboreus, Galas for of-age and unwed Neolandians are held all over.

The 2-day gala consist of elaborate costumes, bizarre fashion, and mask.

Here guest mingle in the comfort of their costumes, an added layer of mystery making the night all the more exciting. The Galas have even inspired many stories of a lovely masked woman who charmed a Duchess before fleeing, leaving behind her slipper as the only clue to find her again.

Evenere:

“Day of Love”- large boats carrying guest float out in the water on the boats songs play through the evening and the people dance in celebration of love. Couples arm in arm, children swinging with their parents, and friends tossing each other around. All are welcomed in this event so that love can warm their community.

Image ID: A sketch of Terry on a boat in a Gondala get up. He smiles widely as he rows. End ID.

Page 7

CREDITS

Image ID: A sketch of Esmeralda skall with her dragon parrot hangs to the left of the caption. To the right of the caption is a sketch of Soren elbowing Kasef with a playful smile. Kasef has his arms crossed. End ID.

Artist Credits: Hanna Hofer, Dorothy Yang, Hanna Hofer, Rebecca Blessing, Grace Kim, Josh Bangs, Alice Cho, Sara Landsdell, Koko Liem, Dafne Martinez, Rocky Chen, and Wonderstorm,

Image ID: The stone entrance to the Pentarchy. Each of the kingdoms flags fly on the top of the stone structure and two warriors are carved into the stone looking towards the opening. Inside of the opening the text reads: “This is purely a fan-work inspired by the works of 2025 Wonderstorm, Inc’s “The Dragon Prince” Series. End ID.

[catcherwrites]

The first batch of my Arc 3 concept designs are finally done! It felt fitting to begin with the three who started it all: Rayla, Callum, and Ezran

Check out the more in-depth story and design choices below

Rayla

Story Choices

In the wake of S7’s Finale, Azymondias wasn’t just a 2-year-old King of the Dragons, but the only surviving Archdragon. That means he’s a very important figure across Xadia and the Human Kingdoms – and needs to be protected. Shortly after the events of S7, Rayla reclaims her title as ‘The Last Dragonguard’ and resurrects the order to act as Zym’s attendants, advisors, and protectors. She’s spent the last few years travelling between the Storm Spire, the Silvergrove, and Evrkynd, helping where she can and leading her fellow guards (who may be revealed in a later post). Rayla’s relationship with Callum has grown stronger than ever. Even though they’re holding off on marriage until Aaravos is dealt with for good, Callum gives her the Xadian equivalent of a promise ring he handcrafted (Ethari helped). With them both feeling secure with each other, they are more comfortable with being separated…but that won’t stop them from being attached at the hip whenever they’re near each other.

Design Choices

Going into these Arc 3 designs, I had a much clearer image in my head of Rayla compared to the other characters in my lineup. Using reference images of Tiadrin and Lain made creating Rayla’s Dragonguard uniform feel very bittersweet. Unfortunately, from a creative standpoint, uniforms run the chance of limiting the personality in a character’s design. I tried offsetting this by making Rayla’s undershirt and embedded gemstones in her armour more Silvergrove-y than Dragonguard-y. I also kept Rayla’s iconic belt, Arc 2 colour scheme, and added some of Ethari’s swirls where possible. Beyond the uniform, I kept going back and forth about her hairstyle. Keep the Arc 2 bun? Return to Arc 1’s style? Braided? A simple ponytail? Eventually, I settled on a half-up braid that let my sleep-deprived brain think I was getting the best of both worlds.

Callum

Story Choices

Ezran was disappointed when Callum turned down being his High Mage again, fearing that he’d lose his brother’s support in the council room. In reality, stepping down as High Mage meant that Callum could step up as Crown Prince. In the years following S7, Callum splits his time between assisting Ezran and studying magic on expeditions across Xadia. One of those expeditions leads him to Aaravos’ book in Elarion, which helps him delve deeper into the other primal sources. He’s fully mastered Sky and Ocean magic and has grown incredibly proficient at Earth magic. To Callum’s dismay, even with the help of Lujanne, Ethari, and Aaravos’ book, he still isn’t clicking with the Moon arcanum. He also hasn’t fully unlocked the Sun arcanum, but he’s getting very close and is a strong fire mage when wielding the Staff of Ziard. By Arc 3, Callum has gained the title of Archmage – and people far and wide seek him out for magical assistance, leaving him overworked and exhausted.

Design Choices

I was very excited to come up with Callum’s Arc 3 design for one reason: the parallels. His Arc 2 outfit is meant to resemble Viren, as Callum had taken his place as the High Mage of Katolis. But because he is no longer ‘High Mage,’ and instead ‘Archmage’, Callum’s Arc 3 outfit is intended to reflect Aaravos. I tried to do this with his uncovered arms, the open coat, and the vaguely celestial elements on his tunic. The geometric pattern on Callum’s coat is meant to look like a feather (symbolising his first primal source) while in the style of his Arc 2 coat. Rayla gifted Callum a matching belt buckle to hers (though with a moon opal for emergencies), which he wears alongside his uneven towers buckle from Ezran. His hair is mostly the same, except slightly longer, because I don’t see overworked-mage Callum caring about his hairstyle.

Ezran

Story Choices

S7 was a massive tipping point for Ezran: losing his brother, his true heart, and almost losing himself to the cycle of violence. While he stopped before he could go too far, Ezran was unequivocally changed by what happened. After Aaravos’ defeat, Ezran has been overseeing Evrkynd’s construction, ensuring it’s a safe home for humans and Sunfire elves who lost their home. However, it is also open to anyone, regardless of their origin. While he and Queens Janai and Amaya decided the people would rule the city of Evrkynd, Ezran continues to rule wider Katolis alongside his council. He does spend most of his time in Evrkynd for his royal duties, but Ezran is learning to take breaks – occasionally joining Callum, Rayla, and Zym on small getaways. As is tradition for anyone in the royal family, Ezran began combat training in his mid-teens with Soren as his teacher. He’s grown quite good and can hold his own in a battle (long enough for his Crownguard come to his aid, at least).

Design Choices

Ezran’s design in TDP has always been one of the simplest ones, probably symbolising his humble personality despite his status. I tried to maintain that effect in his Arc 3 outfit but with one major alteration. Going into this design, I wanted Ezran’s struggle in S7 to have had a visible impact on him by including armour in his design. His outer tunic is now gambeson, and his shoulder pads are scuffed-up leather. If he decides to wear it, the gold studs on Ezran’s shoulders are where his cloak will latch on. As should be expected from an age jump this severe, the biggest change to Ezran was his build. He’s finally overtaken his brother in height, much to the dismay of both Callum and Rayla, and is expected to be as tall as Harrow when he’s finished growing.

[starset21]

The Gala

So I originally posted this as an x oc so if it seems familiar thats why but I have been proven multiple times over that x reader just seems to do better on this hellsite (that we love). So since I didn't really use that many actual descriptions of how she looked I figured I'd just attempt to do this instead.

Standard disclaimer: I do not consent to the posting, translating, or publishing of my work to any 3rd party site, the only place it may currently be found is on tumblr and Ao3. This is all fake. It does not reflect real people, real events or their actual actions or relationships.

WC: 2.5k

Summery: Charles thinks she's been working to hard, what better way to get her to relax other than taking her with him to a gala?

“Hey, y/n.” She turned to the man she now considered one of her closest friends since moving abroad. “Yes Cha?” she replies. “I’ve been thinking. You’ve been... working hard, you know? Trying to hold everything together. You deserve a break,” his voice was casual but there was a glimmer of something more behind it. She blinked at him as though he’d just spoken a different language. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you need to get out of here. You’ve been on autopilot for months now, handling everything with Callum, with your parents... You’re not going to be any good to him if you don’t take care of yourself too.” Charles took a step closer, his gaze softening. “I think you should come with me to this gala tonight.” She hesitated, feeling the familiar wave of guilt wash over her. “I don’t know. I’ve got so much to do.” Charles sighed, a knowing look crossing his face. “You’re not going to be any help to him if you’re burning yourself out. Trust me. You’re still you. You’re still y/n—not just Callum’s sister or the caretaker. You deserve a little bit of time to breathe. Just a night. For you.” She glanced down at her phone again, the weight of her responsibilities pulling her in every direction. But something in Charles’s tone made her pause. 

He was right, as much as she hated to admit it. She hadn’t taken time for herself in ages—hell, since before the accident. Everything had become about Callum, about their future, and trying to keep up the semblance of normality. “I know you’ve got a lot on your plate,” Charles added, his voice softer now, “but I’m not going to let you turn into a robot. You need this. Callum will be fine.” She rubbed her forehead, exhaustion pressing against her temples. But she knew Charles had a point. A part of her longed for the break, even if it meant stepping away for a few hours. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, a voice interrupted from the doorway. 

“Are you seriously thinking of turning this down?” Callum’s voice was light, but there was a sharpness to it, an edge that made her look up. Callum was standing in the kitchen entrance, arms crossed, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. "I swear, you need to go. You’ve been cooped up in this house for too long, just... being everything to everyone else. You deserve one night to yourself. You deserve to live a little." Her heart softened at his words, but she still felt torn. “I just... I’m not sure. What about you?” Callum shrugged, his expression serious but affectionate. “I’ll be fine. You’ve been doing so much for me lately, but you can’t just give and give without taking something back for yourself. Go. Have some fun. I'll hold down the fort here.” 

Her eyes met his, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she saw a glimmer of the young boy she used to know—the one who, even in the midst of their tragedy, still had the heart to look out for her. “I’ll be okay, sis. Go. I want you to. Just... take care of yourself for once.” The sincerity in his voice made her chest tighten. She felt a wave of emotion, a mixture of pride for how much Callum had matured in such a short time, and guilt that she had been neglecting herself. Charles leaned against the counter, watching the exchange with a quiet smile. "See? Even he thinks you should go. And when was the last time you listened to him?" He raised an eyebrow playfully. She sighed, but a small smile tugged at her lips. “Fine. I’ll go. But you both owe me for this.” Callum threw his hands up in mock surrender, grinning. “Deal. Just go have some fun. You deserve it.” With one last glance at her brother, she nodded, a mixture of gratitude and guilt still sitting in her chest, but she knew she needed this. For herself. For her future.

The grand ballroom glittered with golden chandeliers and crystal glasses, the soft murmur of voices blending with the clink of fine china and the hum of classical music playing faintly in the background. The event was everything she had expected—a world of dazzling luxury and elegance. But here, amidst the high-profile crowd of Formula 1 drivers, team owners, and industry elites, she felt like an outsider. She tugged nervously at the sleeve of her dress, trying to keep her composure, but it was a struggle. In the months since her parents’ death, she had been completely immersed in the chaos of adjusting to her new life, trying to support Callum, taking on responsibilities she wasn’t ready for. The thought of attending this event, surrounded by people who were practically strangers, felt like an impossible task.

Yet here she was, trying to enjoy a night off—something Callum had practically pushed her into, his voice still ringing in her head. “You deserve this. Just go, have fun. I’ll be fine. You’re always doing stuff for me. Take a break. You need it.” It was hard to let go of the worry, but she knew he was right. She couldn’t be the caregiver and the grieving sister all the time. She had to let herself breathe, even if it was just for one night. Her eyes scanned the room, taking in the faces she’d only seen on TV—the stars of the motorsport world, all polished and perfected, conversing effortlessly. She felt small in this world of money, fame, and racing legends. She wasn’t used to this, wasn’t prepared for the kind of person she had to become here in this strange new life.

"How are you doing, y/n?" Charles Leclerc’s voice broke through her thoughts, pulling her from her overwhelming wave of self-doubt. She turned to find him standing beside her, his warm smile like a beacon in the crowd of strangers. Charles had become a comforting presence since her arrival in the world of motorsport. He made this world feel just a little bit smaller, a little bit more manageable. "Honestly? I’m a little overwhelmed," she confessed, offering a shy smile. "This is a lot." Charles grinned. "Yeah, it can be, especially if you’re not used to it. But you’re doing just fine. Relax, enjoy the night. You’re my guest, not a member of the press. You don’t need to know every detail about racing to fit in here."

She gave a soft laugh, feeling some of the tension release from her shoulders. "That’s a relief. I wasn’t sure how to act, honestly." Charles chuckled. "That’s the thing about these events. People think you have to put on some perfect version of yourself, but it’s just about having a good time. Let me introduce you to a few people."

Charles guided her through the crowd with ease, his friendly demeanor making each interaction seem effortless. He introduced her to a few engineers, some team owners, and even a few drivers, but it was clear that he was focused on making sure she didn’t feel like just a wallflower. As he steered her toward more familiar faces in the motorsport world, she started to find her rhythm. “See? You’re doing great,” Charles said with a playful grin as they stopped by a small group of people who appeared deep in conversation. “I guess it’s not as bad as I thought,” she replied, her confidence growing. Her mind had still been racing earlier, worried about her responsibilities back home, but talking with people who were genuinely kind was making her feel more at ease.

The hum of the crowd suddenly dropped, and the air in the room shifted. The whispers and hushed voices grew louder as eyes turned toward the entrance. And then, she saw him.

Max Verstappen.

It was as though he had entered a new dimension—his presence commanded immediate attention. Tall, lean, with a presence that was undeniable even in a room full of famous faces, Max had that quality that made him stand out. His sharp features and intense blue eyes locked onto people as he walked through the crowd, his confidence palpable. She felt a pang of nervousness that she couldn’t quite explain. It wasn’t just that he was one of the most successful drivers in Formula 1, it was that he had an aura about him, something magnetic. Her heart beat a little faster as her gaze followed him. She’d heard stories, seen the clips. He was an enigma—strong, talented, fiercely competitive.

"Ah, there he is," Charles said, his voice warm but with a touch of amusement. "Let’s go say hello." Before she could even gather her thoughts, Charles was already walking in Max's direction, guiding her through the crowd with ease. Despite the nervousness still brewing in her stomach, she followed. This wasn’t something she had expected when she agreed to come tonight but here she was. They approached, and Charles greeted Max like an old friend, slapping him on the back with a genuine smile. “Max, my friend! It’s been too long.” Max turned, giving Charles a friendly grin before acknowledging him with a firm handshake. "Good to see you, Charles. Busy as ever, I assume?" Charles shrugged. "Of Course. But enough about me. Let me introduce you to y/n." Max's eyes turned to her, and she could feel the shift in his attention. His gaze was calm, almost calculating, but with an undeniable warmth.

"y/n, huh?" he said, extending a hand, his tone relaxed. "Nice to meet you. I’ve heard many things about you." She glanced at Charles with a wary look, suddenly self-conscious under the weight of the conversation. Charles, ever the easygoing friend, gave her a reassuring smile, clearly aware of her unease. Max’s eyes twinkled, adding, “All good things, I promise.” She hesitated before shaking his hand, feeling the coolness of his grip. He was as calm and composed as she had imagined, but the warmth in his gaze made her feel like she was speaking to someone who wasn’t as untouchable as he seemed on TV. “Nice to meet you too, Max,” she said, trying to sound more at ease than she felt. Max’s smile widened, as though he could sense her wariness. “Don’t worry, I won’t bite,” he teased lightly, his voice smooth but with a playful edge.

She couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. The tension that had been coiling inside her loosened just a little. “Good to know,” she replied, still trying to catch her breath from the initial surprise of meeting him. “So, what brings you to all this glamour tonight?” Max asked, his gaze drifting over the room full of buzzing conversations, flashing cameras, and well-dressed guests. She shrugged, feeling a bit out of place amidst the opulence. “Honestly, I’m here because Charles insisted,” she said, nodding toward the man who had now moved on to talking with some sponsor. “He’s been pushing me to take a break. I’ve been... handling a lot lately. I think he figured I needed something different for a change.”

Max’s expression softened at her words. “That makes sense. Life can get overwhelming, can’t it?” His tone shifted, the earlier playfulness replaced by something a little more grounded. "You’re not alone in that." She blinked, taken aback by how understanding he seemed. Most people, especially in this world of high-profile events, rarely took the time to actually listen. But Max wasn’t like most people. “Between my brother and everything else, I just... I’m not sure how to switch off sometimes,” she admitted, her voice softening. Max’s eyes locked onto hers, a quiet understanding passing between them. “It’s okay to not have everything figured out, you know?” he said gently, his words almost like a reassurance. “Sometimes, you have to let go of the idea that you need to control everything. It doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human.”

She swallowed, feeling a lump form in her throat. There was something about his words that hit close to home—something she had been trying to ignore for weeks. It had been hard for her to allow herself to not be in control after the loss of her parents, but hearing Max say it out loud made her realize just how much she had been holding onto that control as a way of surviving. “It’s like if I don’t keep everything together, then... everything will fall apart.” She let out a breath, feeling the weight of the past few months settle heavily in her chest. “I’m still figuring out how to not be so... tightly wound.” Max’s gaze softened. “I get it. I’ve been there too,” he said, his voice carrying a quiet strength. “You just have to trust that even if things fall apart, you’ll still be okay. And maybe, just maybe, you won’t have to do it all alone.”

She nodded, unsure of how to respond. His words felt like a lifeline, something she had desperately needed to hear but hadn’t been ready for until now. There was something about Max that made her feel like she wasn’t as isolated in her struggles as she often thought. “I’ll try to remember that,” she said quietly, her eyes briefly meeting his. The air between them seemed to settle into a comfortable silence, one that didn’t feel forced or awkward. For the first time that night, she didn’t feel the weight of her responsibilities pressing down on her. Max broke the silence, leaning slightly toward her with a grin. “Well, if you’re ever in need of a distraction, I’m pretty good at keeping things light. I mean, it’s not all racing all the time. I’ve got a few other talents up my sleeve.” She couldn’t help but laugh at the sudden shift in tone. “I’m intrigued. What else are you good at?” Max’s grin widened, clearly enjoying the exchange. “I make a mean coffee. You’d be surprised how many people underestimate my barista skills.”

“Barista skills?” She raised an eyebrow, genuinely amused. “Now that’s something I have to see.” Max shrugged playfully, his smile remaining in place, “maybe I’ll take you up on that offer sometime,” he said, his voice lighter now. "No racing talk—promise." She chuckled. “I’ll hold you to that.” As they continued to chat, the initial tension that had held her back melted away. There was something refreshing about Max’s down-to-earth attitude. He didn’t feel like a superstar; he felt like someone who had seen his share of struggles and had come out the other side, still managing to find humor and joy in the little things.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter, light conversation, and stories shared. She found herself drawn into the warmth of the moment, something she hadn’t allowed herself in what felt like forever. She wasn’t sure where this connection with Max was going—whether it was just a friendly conversation at a gala or something more—but for now, it was enough to simply be in the moment, talking with someone who seemed to understand.

[jelzorz]

191.

Opeli has never been to the Banther Lodge.

She has never had a reason to. Typically, it's used as a retreat for the royal family during the winter festivities, although once, one of Ezran's distant relatives had lent it to the city orphanage to use while their own building was being rebuilt after a fire. It's large for a cabin, obviously supposed to be rustic without losing its air of luxury, and without the castle...

Well. It's better than camping in the temples, that's for sure. It's too far away from the city to use as a permanent base, but it will have to do until other arrangements can be made. Tents have sprung up on the grounds to house both soldiers and refugees, and although it's crowded and busy, Opeli likes it.

It's a quiet place, nestled in the heart of the woods, away from the hustle and bustle of the city with enough space to breathe, to think, to simply be without all the trappings of court life. All things considered, it's a lovely reprieve, and she wonders if, one day, she might be able to come out here and enjoy it for what it is. There's just... one thing about this current arrangement that sets her on edge.

The kingslayer sharpens his blades.

Opeli's fingers twitch.

It has not been an easy few weeks. The attack on the castle was grave indeed, and although Ezran and Corvus had returned with Queen Aanya's troops and Queen Janai's to provide aid and assistance, the loss of their home still rings painfully through camp. Prince Callum and Rayla had returned shortly afterwards as well, and Opeli had been pleased to see them, her unofficial wards home and safe, until Rayla had ushered forward someone new—or someone not so new, and all hell had broken loose among their friends.

For what little it's worth, Ezran had managed it well. His pain was most obvious in his eyes and in the crack of his voice, and he'd been composed as he dealt with it but hasn't spoken to Callum in days. He holds his anger tight, keeps it all buried under the mountains of things they have to do, blue eyes filled with cold that he doesn't let leech into his words, but he avoids the issue entirely and spends almost all his free time with Queen Aanya or Corvus, people he can't be angry with, people to distract him from kinglsaying banther in the room.

Opeli has been less mature about it, if that can be believed. She had Rayla arrested once for breaking into the chambers beneath the castle to steal the kingslayer's bow, but Callum has made it clear that he will not stand for that, so instead Opeli funnels her frustration into sharp words and biting remarks, which she does not temper, even for Callum.

The air is tense. Their council is fractured. But if Ezran won't let himself be angry, the Justice help her, Opeli will be angry in his place.

It's dinnertime. Everyone is pulling double duty because the circumstances demand it, and Opeli is helping Barius dole out the food tonight to give the other staff a bit of a break. She passes bowls of stew to Ezran, to Corvus, to Soren, to Queen Aanya, her lips tilted in an appreciative smile as they thank her, and then slams bowls wordlessly down before Callum and Rayla and the other elf who only shifts uncomfortably in his seat as the stew sloshes over the rim.

"Enjoy your dinner," she snaps, and Callum, because he's Callum, snarls and snaps back.

"What the hell is your problem, Opeli?" he demands. "You've been passive aggressive about everything for days. This isn't okay anymore."

Opeli bristles at him. "And I suppose it's okay to have a murderer at the table instead."

"He was imprisoned in a magical coin for years, he's been punished enough—"

"Has he?" Opeli sneers. "Historically, kingslayers are hanged."

"You need to back the hell off—"

"That's enough!"

Silence falls over them, and things are dire indeed because it comes from Soren. He glared at Callum and Rayla, the elf with them shrinking beneath it, but it's Opeli that he turns to, that he offers his hand to, that he ushers away from the table leaving Callum, Rayla, and the elf alone and in silence in the dining hall.

Opeli waits until they are out of earshot before she rounds on Soren too. "You're not defending that murderer now, surely."

"No," mutters Soren darkly, "but Callum's right. You need to back off."

She scowls, affronted. "That elf shouldn't even be here," she snaps. "He murdered King Harrow, and would have murdered King Ezran too, if Rayla hadn't stood in his way. And they have the nerve to bring him here, our last stronghold, at a time like this?"

"I know," says Soren, grimacing. "I agree with you. But haven't we lost enough?"

"All the more reason he shouldn't be here."

Soren sighs. "He's Rayla's dad, Opeli. You have to let her have this."

"I certainly don't," says Opeli loftily. "Why on earth should he be allowed to walk free after the things he's done?"

"Because Rayla needs him," says Soren, "and not all of us are lucky enough to have a dad we can forgive."

A pause. A breath. A beat so heavy that Opeli feels it slam the air out of her chest. Soren looks away and swallows, his own conflict painfully clear in the way that he blinks and breathes and clenches his jaw.

She relents.

"I'll leave them be," she mutters at last. "But he can't be here long."

"He won't be," agrees Soren. "But just for now. Okay?"

"Yes." Opeli takes a breath and touches his arm, a promise to make an effort, for him more than for anyone else. "Just for now."

[dragon-susceptible]

Different Path Taken: Ch.2

I think I'm actually going to lengthen this chapter, there's two more scenes I want to put into it, but tumblr gets the preview because I do not have the brain I wanted to work on them.

Rating: T

Characters: Callum, Rayla, Ezran, Runaan, Callisto

Callum still insists on going to talk to Harrow one more time. because the author needed a reason for him to confront Viren and realize he's shady later.

“Wait,” Prince Callum sidestepped Callisto’s herding motion and looked up at Runaan with determination. “I need to go talk to - I need to see my stepfather before we leave.”

Those alarm bells went off again.  Runaan narrowed his eyes at the boy. “Why would we let you do that?”

“Because the fight with Claudia earlier means they already know we didn’t leave by sundown.  If you guys disappear without doing anything and then we’re gone in the morning, everyone will assume you kidnapped us.”

Callisto grunted. “We’re countin’ on that, a bit.”

“But we weren’t supposed to be here.  We were going to go on a trip to the Banther Lodge before you got here, so Ezran would be safe.” Callum pressed on. “So if I just go tell the king that we got a late start but we’re leaving now, it’s okay, they’ll think we made it out.  It’ll be at least a day before they come looking for us and anyone notices we’re actually missing.”

Runaan’s lip curled. “Why should we trust you not to betray us?”

“Callum wouldn’t do that.” Ezran frowned at him. 

“Why should we trust you not to just kill us as soon as we leave the castle?” Callum countered, glowering at him with his hands shaking. “Rayla already tried like a couple of hours ago.”

Reflexively Runaan glanced at the girl, who was scowling at Callum’s back.  She had disobeyed him to come and try to complete the mission all by herself.  He should have known. “We will be having words about that later,” He growled at her.

Callisto cleared their throat. “I hate to say it, Runaan, but . . . it might not be a bad idea.  If the boy can buy us an extra day, that’s precious time we could use tae put distance between us and this place.”

“I’ll stay to guide him to camp afterwards.  I’ll be careful, keep an eye on him, stay hidden.” Rayla volunteered.

Runaan frowned at both of them. “And if he betrays us?  No one of us could hold back all the guards of Katolis.”

Callisto shrugged. “If he doesn’t, we gain time.  If he does, what do we lose?  He won’t be able to tell them anythin’ they won’t guess on their own.  We’ll still have the other prince.”

“Rayla.” Runaan pointed out, feeling a tad brittle at the coldness in his friend’s eyes. “We lose Rayla.”

Callisto held his gaze without flinching. “Or she’s not stupid, because she’s your student and ward,” They pointed out bluntly. “And she stays hidden, and escapes to warn us ahead of time.  She’s always been good at information gathering, Runaan, you know that, and she’s volunteering.” They tilted their head and raised one inky black eyebrow at him. “Would ye hesitate if it was me?”

Runaan showed his teeth and huffed. “Would I hesitate to risk your life on the word of a human child?  Yes, Callisto, I would.”

“I can do this,” Rayla insisted. 

“It’s a risk, yes, but it’s a worthy one.” Callisto said, folding their arms. “It could buy us an extra day, and that’s precious time to travel, and we will need every second.  You more than most, Master of Blades.”

The reminder that his oaths sat further up his limbs than theirs, could easily kill him if they tightened too much, was unwelcome.  His life was of no consequence if giving it completed their mission.  But then, that was the very point, wasn’t it?  Neither was Rayla’s.

Runaan grit his teeth and glowered down at the boy. “Go.” He said shortly, and looked at Rayla. “Stay hidden.  Stay alive.  If you’re not back by sunrise, we leave without you.”

She nodded firmly. “I know.  I’ll be there.”

He hoped she would be, but he couldn’t afford to spare more words for her with Callisto’s sharp eyes boring into his shoulder.  He turned instead to the younger prince and the large dragon egg he carried. “Let’s go.”

The princes paused to exchange a hug before splitting up, and he and Callisto ushered the younger one towards the gates on high alert.  There were still no guards.  Even the citizens of the castle town were abed and no one was present to catch them slipping through the streets and over the bridge.  They made it to the woods without a single incident.

Runaan sent a private wish up to the moon that he hadn’t just sent his daughter into a trap.

They had been in the woods for almost an hour when Prince Ezran began to fall behind.  He had refused Callisto’s offer to carry the egg for him, wisely pointing out that they could just take it and leave him if he permitted that, and they had exchanged glances and let him keep it.  On the slim chance that this was right - the whole reason Skor had agreed to this plan was the potentiality for proving the children’s honor, and they would need working hands to carry the egg anyway by the end of the journey. 

“Slow down,” Prince Ezran fussed from their heels. “I have little legs!”

Both assassins paused for a moment to let him catch up and Callisto shot Runaan a look, quirking a brow at him. “I know I agreed, too, but this does sort of prove my point about them slowing us down.” They said quietly.

Runaan flicked his eyes over the boy and then quirked a brow back at his second. “When was the last time you took a rotation with the Mooncubs?”

Callisto blinked, clearly caught out, and cleared their throat, looking away. “I’m an assassin, and not also a parent.  It’s . . . been a while.”

“You should stop dodging it when we get home.  It will do you good.” Runaan replied as Prince Ezran managed to catch up, the boy panting a bit but bravely pushing on.  He crouched in front of the young human instead of turning to leave. “We will cover more ground if I carry you.” He said bluntly. “I understand you do not trust us with the egg alone, but we need to move faster than this.  Would you rather be held in front or on my shoulders?”

Prince Ezran blinked at him, mouth opening in surprise, but then nodded. “O-okay.  Um.  I like the shoulders better, but the egg is really heavy, and I don’t want to fall backwards.”

“You can hang onto the horns.  Most children do.” Runaan assured him, reminded harshly that children were children regardless of their origin.  The boy was so much like the cubs back home. 

“That won’t hurt?” Prince Ezran asked, curiously, even as he raised his arms to allow himself to be picked up.

Runaan scoffed, finding himself unwillingly amused as he picked the boy up and hoisted him to his shoulders. “No.  I can’t feel the tips.  Just be careful of the hair.” He swept it aside as he settled the child on his shoulders, habit making the movement easy.   Moon above, the egg truly was heavy - that or human children were heavier than he’d anticipated.  He was impressed the boy had made it this far. “Ready?”

He felt a faint tug at the base of his horns as the boy gripped them. “I’m ready.  Um, thank you.”

Runaan settled his hands on the boy’s ankles to strap him in further and set off towards camp again.  Callisto scoffed lightly as they resumed their journey. “Shame you’re not a father, Runaan.” They said. “You’d be good at it.”

Damn them.  What was it with them and Skor, always after him to claim Rayla even though her parents were very much alive?  Things were awkward.  And what business was it of his - yes, very well-meaning - friends anyways? “We’re not talking about that now.” He said flatly. “You know why that is.”

Callisto just hummed skeptically and let it go as Runaan picked up the pace to avoid the conversation.

[avonne-writes]

Can you speak more to your theory about callum and Austin’s friendship being about a safe space/comfort person? I am obsessed with them and really hope we get to see more of their friendship in the future.

Hi dear 😊 Sure! Please note that these are all just my observations and assumptions, of course - ultimately, we don’t know these men. Mini-essay below.

Austin expressed in several interviews that he used to be a shy kid who couldn't really find a friend group where he belonged until he got into acting and he "found his tribe", as he put it. Based on how he behaves in interviews depending on the group he’s with and how his costars describe him, I think he's still someone who’s more reserved and needs to be drawn out of his shell with a gentle approach. He seems to have had a good example of this with Florence Pugh who helped him get out of the house while shooting Dune.

It seems to me that Austin enjoys being with costars who are confident, funny but calmly caring.

Callum fits right in that category. He has a bubbly and comforting vibe, he cracks witty jokes all the time (sometimes a little naughty, which Austin also seems to like), and he gives off a sense of safety. That he can be relied upon no matter what mood you're in or what kind of support you need. He’s also casually tactile in a way that seems to encourage Austin not to pull back on his own tactile gestures. They're both young men around the same age who share a passion and (as far as we can tell) views, so that further connects them.

I think we should consider the time when they met too. Austin was in a vulnerable place mentally and emotionally due to Elvis ending, and he said he was trying to find himself again. Plus, it was Covid lockdown, and he had just moved to a new country for this shoot. So they spent a lot of time together, often in very small groups or just the two of them during a period when Austin needed support. It’s not hard to imagine how that strengthens a friendship.

We also know that Austin has trouble staying in touch with people remotely (i.e. the joke about him not using his phone), while they also implied that Callum sends a lot of voice messages. From my personal experience, people who have trouble replying are able to maintain long-distance connections better if the other person is chatty like that.

Finally, from Callum's side, it’s clear that he likes making people laugh and making them comfortable. I think he seems to enjoy being a source of support and finds it rewarding that he’s the cause of their joy. He always raves about how quickly he "fell in love with" Austin, and I think it’s a combination of similar views and interests meeting plus a matching sense of humour, life stage and intensity levels (e.g. Timothée's intensity is too much to match Austin).

These are some factors that could have contributed to their sweet friendship. Callum explicitly mentioned in an interview that he doesn’t have this kind of relationship with a lot of costars, so I think we can safely say that this really is a special bond, and even if they drift apart, whenever they meet, they will always be happy to see each other again. 🩷

[teddypines]

To Scotland, (the aftermath part 2)

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Summary: The team made it to Scotland in one piece, getting the warmest welcome from the MacTavish family. It was time for healing, some fun and little outings.

Note: Soap's place of birth and his parents names are made up by me and my friend, because i couldn't find anything canon, so headcanon it is. Also part 3 will get more little outings and maybe more.

Art/picture is from Google, credits go to whoever made it

The aftermath part 1

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Location: Scotland, Stirling, countryside near Drip Bridge. Soap’s parents home.

Date: November 4th 20XX

Soap’s mom, Fiona, walked down the porch as Johnny walked over to the house with some of the bag’s. “Johnny, sweetpea!” She yelled while opening her arms for a hug. “Hey, mom.” Johnny answered once he let go of the bag’s and was safely in his mothers arms. “Missed ya, Mom.”

John walked over to Johnny and his mother with the other bag’s while Simon and Y/N helped Kyle walk after them. “OWh and look at them, you sure picked them out didn’t ya.” Fiona marveled as she looked at the others. “You three sure are handsome and you dear are an angel.” Fiona complimented the other four. “Now come in, come in, you all are probably tired from your trip here and everything that happened before. I have tea and cake inside.” 

After Fiona got to hug and greet everyone and the bags were all inside and taken care of. Everyone gathered into the living room, Johnny quickly sat down in his usual spot before helping his mom with tea and the cake. Fiona made her famous apple pie for everyone, wanting them to feel welcome and loved.

Kyle was still a bit out of it, the pain meds were less heavy but his mind was still a bit foggy. He lay his head onto Y/N’s shoulder as he sat between her and John, nice and safe as the others talked over tea. Of course Soap’s dad, Callum, wanted to know everything about the mission, the escape and what happened at the safehouse. He didn’t get everything he wanted to know, but he got what the team was allowed to tell family and loved ones.

<-------------------------------------------------->

After tea and cake everyone took it easy. John took Kyle upstairs for a nap, because the poor man really needed one. Simon joined Kyle after about 45 minutes. He needed a nap too. Fiona went to work on dinner, wanting to make a feast for her son’s safe return home and to celebrate his loved ones. Y/N went with Johnny and his dad to check on the animals and John started helping Fiona after a while of letting Kate know everything was okay in Scotland.  

Of course Y/N adored the sheep the MacTavish family kept. They were all so fluffy and adorable, like little walking clouds. Johnny was lucky when he caught the moment of Y/N holding one of the younger sheep in her lap on camera. Saving it for a rainy day and sharing it with the boy’s in their private group chat. Callum only loved it that Johnny’s partner loved the sheep just as much as he and his family did.

Monty, the barn cat, got the same kind of attention from Y/N as the sheep did. But Monty got the privilege of going back inside with Johnny, Callum and Y/N, while the sheep had to stay inside the barn for the night. 

Dinner was nice and homey. It did bother Simon a bit and even John was struggling with this loving and warm feeling a parent could give. Fiona’s food was delicious as always and to her own delight there were no leftovers. Y/N helped Johnny with the dishes as the others went to do their own thing again until tea time.

<-------------------------------------------------->

The moment Johnny’s head hit his pillow something felt wrong. He was so used to having his loved ones in the same big bed as him when they were out of the field. Yet now he lay alone in his childhood bed, it just felt wrong. Even Though the others where in the two bedrooms across the hall, he missed them. Their warmth and closeness. Johnny was debating on going to one of the bedrooms to sleep there, but he was shaken out of his thoughts when his door opened. 

“Johnny?” Y/N whisper asked once she got closer to the bed. Johnny slowly nodded his head. “What is it, bonnie?” “I can’t sleep… Kyle moved to sleep with Simon and John and I feel so cold without one of you next to me.” Y/N answered. Johnny quickly opened the covers for Y/N and let her crawl into bed with him. They didn’t need words to understand what they both needed. And thus Johnny rubbed Y/N’s thigh as she hugged him. The two of them fell asleep like this, both not so cold and lonely anymore.

<--------------------------------------------------->

Location: Scotland, Stirling, countryside near Drip Bridge. Soap’s parents home.

Date: November 5th 20XX

Today was an easy chill day. The most everyone did was the necessary things, like taking care of Kyle and the animals. There was time to take it easy and to not worry about doing everything in a short time limit. It was nice, Johnny updated his journal. Simon was watching tv with Kyle and John was taking an old man nap with Callum. Y/N took the time to call her family. Telling them she is safe in Scotland and that Kyle and Simon are getting better by the day.

Later that day, around tea time Johnny was looking through the list of dvd’s. “Mom? Do you still have that one movie? You know the one used to love as a kid?” Johnny asked as he tried to find something to watch. “The one with the dog’s or the one with Hugh Jackman as a rat?” Fiona answered from the kitchen. “The one with the dog, but the scary one.” Johnny answered. This interaction confused John a bit, but he also loved it. He knew Johnny could communicate in a nonsensical way that made sense at the same time, but he never saw it happen like this. He saw it happen with Simon and Y/N, but that was different from this with Fiona.

“You mean the one with the penguin?” Callum asked Johnny as he looked back at his son. “What? No, it was a chicken right? Right?” Johnny asked, now even more confused than before. “It was a penguin, he just looked like a chicken because of the glove on his head and you are looking for 'Wallace and Gromit in the wrong trouser.'” Y/N answered, not even looking up from her phone. “And no, I did not just google this.”

Johnny slowly nodded his head. “Yeah.. That one.” He responded before searching for it in the dvd stand. “How? How do you know that is the film I was talking about?” Johnny asked after a long moment of silence. “I watched those too as a kid.” Y/N answered with a shrug. She shifted a bit, making Kyle groan. “Sorry, love.” Y/N whispered to Kyle. “Besides it’s a national treasure, not knowing Wallace and Gromit is like not knowing the queen. And not everyone on the team had a shittie childhood, Johnny. No offense Simon.” Simon just nodded. “None taken”

“Sooo… What is this I hear about Hugh Jackman as a rat?” Kyle asked as he shifted his head against Y/N’s thigh. Johnny turned red as Kyle asked him about the Hugh Jackman rat. Fiona could only smile as she walked into the living room with a tray and everything for tea and a movie on it. “Well, Kyle, Somewhere in the early years of Johnny’s life he watched an animated movie about sewer rats with the male lead being voiced by Hugh Jackman. My baby boy had to watch the movie every weekend and once he found out Hugh Jackman was in it he had to watch every movie with him in it. Some might say Johnny boy had a crush and a gay awakening.” Johnny whined in embracement. “Mom~ Stop! They don’t need to know about that” Johnny said only for everyone to laugh at his reaction. 

“I get it, Johnny boy. Mister Hughs Jacked Man is very nice to look at.” Y/N said as she started to run her hand through Kyle’s hair. “Yeah and he was totally hot in Australia, the movie not the country.” Kyle agreed. “And in X-Men.”

“Yeah, yeah I get it, just stop!” Johnny whined and hid his head in his hand. Fiona could only laugh. “Owh and don’t forget your little crush on that Legolas guy.”

“No! mom! Shush! Don’t tell them about that!”

“Legolas, hu?” John asked with a teasing smirk on his face. “He is a very handsome man, elf, okay?!” Johnny answered. “No no, you're right, Legolas is very handsome.” John reassured Johnny. “I really liked that Aragorn fella,” Simon commented to which Fiona nodded. “I agree with that, Aragorn is a good man.” 

And so the rest of the evening was spent talking about celebrity men, and women and the plants the team had for the next day. 

<--------------------------------------------------->

Location: Scotland, Stirling, Stirling castle.

Date: November 6th 20XX

Y/N had the little map and info brochure in hand as John paid for the tickets. It was like Y/N was the mom with how much she had to look up to make sure Johnny and Simon didn’t get into any trouble with the other people that were walking around the castle. Kyle looked over Y/N’s shoulder and smiled. “Can we go there after looking around the castle?” He asked as he pointed at a little café icon on the map. “Yeah, sure, wait… You really want to go to the Unicorn Café?” Y/N asked to which Kyle nodded. “Yes, besides it’s the only café they have here.”

Simon and Johnny gathered around Y/N and Kyle. “We are going into the little shop’s right?” Johnny asked. “Of course we are.” John answered as he came back with the tickets. “Now, one rule boy’s. Do not touch it if it doesn’t say you can touch it.” The boy’s nodded their heads and Y/N giggled. “So I can touch everything?” she asked with a cheeky smile on her face. “Oi, don’t get smart with me Princess.” John warned before taking Y/N’s hand and leading her to the castle like she was it’s queen.

[johnslittlespoon]

Thinking about the exquisite imagery of Bucky shaving his mustache, while in contrast Buck let’s his scruff grow in. I can see it so clearly: Bucky shaves the ‘stach when they’re in the POW camp as a result of losing a bet (it’s highly probable he lost of purpose because he wants to give the men an opportunity to laugh it up). But it totally goes sideways once it becomes clear how young he looks without it. Buck on the other hand is stressing over this new change enough to forget to shave for a few weeks straight. Is this brain rot due to me thinking about Callum’s look in the Green Room combined with Austin’s look in the Bikeriders? Yes. Please send help.

in case anyone needs a lovely visual! (ʘ‿ʘ✿)

okay, while i PERSONALLY am in love with bucky's stache and feel like shaving it even in fiction would be an absolute travesty, i see the vision and i agree, i could totally see something like that happening.

john does it as a joke/for a bet and figures that hey, they're all gonna be stuck in the camp for a while anyway, chances are it'll grow back by the time it really matters. no big deal, and it gets laughs in a place where those are increasingly rare, even if he has to suffer through relentless teasing about his baby face for a few weeks.

gale does not deal with it nearly as well, however; it throws off any routine he's built and it feels ridiculous because it's just facial hair but it's such a big change after the monotony of day–to–day behind the fence that it's enough to rattle his brain. and letting his own facial hair grow out probably isn't even a conscious choice, almost like a mindless way of falling back into sync with john as both of theirs grows back.

if buckbucky is an established thing in this verse, we all know damn well john would be obsessed with gale's scruff, rubbing his own cheek up against it like a cat, thirsting over it and ogling him 24/7.

and the way it feels against his thighs, stubble burn leaving the sensitive skin a pretty pink when gale's face is between his legs...

john would be devastated and pouty when it comes time for him to finally shave it, but gale would promise him "when we get out, i'll let it grow back for a bit, yeah?" and that would perk him right up. <3

[a-very-sparkly-nerd]

i'm grateful you're my daughter more than anything

Post 6x09, Runaan finds Rayla as she takes care of Callum. She's changed, and he couldn't be a prouder father.

Felt cute might put up on ao3 later :b

The first moment they had alone was in the dead of the night, moon high above the Nexus. It felt fitting, almost full-circle.

On his way down the hall to the library, to get parchment to send a letter to Ethari explaining what could never truly be explained, at least not fully, Runaan spotted Rayla slipping down the hall, footsteps light and quick as a true assassin's, despite how opposite of one she was, a steaming teacup on a little plate in her hands.

She looked up when she heard him, smiling a little as her low ponytail swung. "Runaan. ...Hey." She cleared her throat. "How- how are you feeling?"

He shrugged in the enormously oversized nightshirt the lumberjack human, Allen, had lent him. It was off-putting, being out of his form-fitting, safe garb, especially in this strange, unknown place he should very well have felt relaxed in- a full moon, at the Moon Nexus, but all Runaan could feel was... odd. "As good as one can, I suppose. How are you, though? How is your human? Clem- Camel? Stop me when I get it right-"

She laughed, and it wasn't a snarky one he'd grown so accustomed to. "Callum." A smile ticked her lips upwards at his name. "His name's Callum. And he's-" Rayla looked away to the wall, the little table she elected to set the tea down on, anywhere but him. "He's okay. I think. Mostly in shock. But he'll get through it." The unspoken words hung in the air, a truth both of them hated knowing: What other choice does he have?

"He's got you," Runaan offered, drawing closer. "That's pretty damn good."

She laughed again, a real, merry one, despite the bitter undertones. "Yeah. Some cuddles and tea are all I can do until morning. Bright and early, we go to Katolis." She made a face, and at least that was the same- her utter hatred of mornings.

Just like that, Runaan found himself relaxing just a little more into her presence. No longer a little girl he felt the need to protect- Well, she would always be that, his beloved daughter once he started acting like it, but someone he trusted to have his back. Even with how much she'd changed, not everything had.

"I will be up with the sun," he promised, and she looked away. That had just been one more thing setting her apart from the rest back at the Silvergrove, during training: her adamant refusal to awaken at the crack of dawn for early-morning runs and sparring.

Good. Please, let her never be like the Silvergrove, Runaan prayed now, just as he had so many moons ago with Ethari after Lain and Tiadrin left. Let her never have the hardened heart of an assassin, the only ones the community would spare the time of day. She had an out, and one look at her and Callum was enough for Runaan to know that she'd take it and never look back.

"Well, I should get this to Callum," Rayla said awkwardly, stilted, moving to take the cup, but Runaan stopped her with a gentle touch to her wrist. "Rayla, wait." Gentle, the way he'd be with Ethari. Because this was his daughter, not a member of his troupe or someone under his jurisdiction. His family.

She pursed her lips slightly and shook her loose bangs out of her eyes, and Runaan couldn't help but remember back to her parents. She was the perfect combination of them, with Lain's braids and horns, Tiadrin's nose and face shape, and her lavender eyes unique only to her. Setting her apart. "Yeah?"

He drew his hand back. "I've never seen you like this," he said, admittedly curiously.

Rayla tilted her head, questioning kindly rather than the abrasive, aggressive way she'd always done before. "Like what?"

"Giving," Runaan said, because that was the first word that came to him. Rayla had always been kind and generous and loving, no matter how she'd hated to show it. "Kind. Loving. Happy."

She took a hesitant step closer, reaching to rest her gentle, small hand on his upper arm, blinking furiously.

"It's a good look on you." He blinked his own tears away as she bit back a sob-ridden laugh. "The best one."

Rayla ducked her head, bangs swinging with the motion. "Thank you. That... It means a lot. So much."

Runaan clasped her hands, drinking the sight of his daughter in. So small physically, but larger than life. So, so loved and gorgeous, inside and out, and he was sure her human made sure she knew it, too.

"You have a beautiful heart, Rayla," he said eventually, softly. "The most gorgeous I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. My worst regret is trying to burn it away instead of nurturing it. And for that..." A hand found its way to lay over his heart, bringing a sniffling Rayla’s with it. "I am truly sorry."

"Runaan..." She shook her head, reaching up to wipe away his tears, and they were the softest fingertips Runaan could remember, his own and Ethari's so calloused and rough. And here was Rayla, giving and gentle. The daughter he'd always dreamed of but never deserved. "Don't," she said firmly. "It was my choice. My choices. I had to find my way here on my own. In the end..." She glanced back down the hall, to the closed door that the boy she loved more than life rested behind. "I like where it got me. I'm glad I'm here."

"Rayla..." Runaan tucked her hair behind her ears, pressing their foreheads together. "I don't know what it means to you, but I am so proud of you. I love you, Little Blade. You are my daughter. I only hope you'll let me be your father."

Rayla threw her arms around him, sending him stumbling back in shock, immediately holding her back. "Of course. I'd forgiven you a long time ago, Runaan. I'm so glad you're my father. You always will be. I love you."

And he'd already said it tonight, but Runaan had spent far too much time hating and killing, and not nearly enough loving. So he hugged her back, whispering, "I love you, too."

[raayllum]

a/n: set after 6x06 and heavily references 6x03 bc they were blessings

Sometime after they stop kissing — alright, they don't really stop, but languid silences, soft giggling, and sweet nothings fill some of the space in between kisses as they curl up together on his bed in the Starscraper — Callum asks, "So, what were you crying about on the Ray of Illumination?"

The sun is rising above the sea of clouds outside their bedroom window, and for a moment he regrets bringing up anything potentially sad, both of them happier than they've been in years, honestly. They have everything they need for her parents, his connection to Aaravos has been severed, the light and truth of her love filling the cracks in his heart, instead, and finally, finally she knows that his heart has always belonged to her. That it always will.

But he's always been curious, and he's always wanted to sooth whatever's troubling her, fix whatever is breaking her heart, and she'd had a good deal to cry over just a couple weeks ago — maybe even something from the last two years apart — and... he wants to know. He wants to help.

And, slowly, he thinks she's getting to a place where she wants him to be able to, where she'll let him.

"Oh, um..." Rayla averts her eyes, fingers tangled with his, but her smile doesn't dim. She sticks her tongue in her cheek. "It's a bit silly, really."

"Still." He uses his free hand to brush his thumb over the curve of her cheek, the blue bend of her marking, where he knows the tears would've fallen.

"Just an old diary written by the captain. Esme something. Stella pushed it open." Rayla scoots a bit closer and Callum lets go of her hand to wrap his arm around her, more than happy to give into her desire to be held; he never feels more at peace than when he's holding her, now more than ever.

The bump of the tip of his nose against hers as a gentle prod. "And?"

Rayla turns her face down, his lips brushing her brow, but he can still tell she's worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. He wants to angle his face down and kiss that worry away, draw her lips to his, but refrains. They have plenty of time, after all. To kiss, and rest, and prepare for their journey. It's close to dawn now, and Callum knows they won't leave till the day after tomorrow at least — they need supplies for the journey to the Nexus, recover from their trials, and to say goodbye to their new friends here.

Finally, Rayla explains, "She was writing during the last days of her life, on that ship I guess. About a man she left behind. Her one true love, Conrad."

"Oh." Callum pulls her further into a hug on instinct, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Just... resonated with me," she nearly sniffles, laughing weakly, but her smile is real and reaches her eyes when he glances down to check. "I'm sure you can imagine why."

"Lots of stuff about what she would've said if she saw him again?"

"Mmhm."

"Think I can relate to that too," he hums, giving her forehead another kiss. "I love you, Rayla," he repeats for what might be the millionth time that day, but he already knows he can never say it enough. He's always known that. "I'm so glad you came back."

She wraps her arms tighter around his torso, cuddling in closer, tension ebbing out of her and face half pressed to his scarf. "I'm so happy you're here, Callum," she sighs warmly.

"Always." He strokes her hair, wondering if she'll fall asleep like this—it always got her a little drowsy in the past—or if she'll let him weave her braid for her one of these days, musing, and then... "The Captain's name wasn't Esmerelda Skall, was it?"

Rayla lifts her head, brow furrowed adorably. "Er, yeah, it was. Why? How do you know that?"

"She was a famous explorer in the Human Kingdoms. Charted out a lot of our maps up north. My Dad—King Harrow—took me on a diplomatic mission once to Del Bar, where she's from, when I was eleven or twelve." There's a warm, content feeling blooming in his chest that he'll get to give her closure on this, too, somehow. "Conrad founded a town near the capitol and served as mayor. He named it after her. He loved her all his life—put a grave marker for her next to his when he died and everything."

Rayla's "Oh" comes out choked and small, but her smile is wide as she blinks back tears. "That's—that's beautiful. I guess he really—"

"—loved her?" Callum finishes, curling two fingers under her chin to lift her face for a moment. Then he brushes away the real tears trickling over, drawing her further into his snug embrace. Her breath is beautifully warm as it fans over his lips before he kisses her, soft and firm. "Yes. I really do."

[kradogsrats]

For @dragonprincedrabbles generator prompt: Soren + Terry, "Vague." Ostensibly.

—

"It was around here," Terry said, looking carefully at Soren. "Somewhere. I think."

Early morning sunlight crept slowly into the Valley of Graves, where King Ezran inspected progress on the monumental wall relief that would honor the three archdragons who'd given their lives to stop Aaravos, for however small a handful of years. Four, if you counted Avizandum—he may not have technically been alive, at the time, but Soren knew Zubeia would have wanted him included.

"It's hard to tell, without the dragon bones. They were a pretty prominent landmark, at the time." Terry put his hands on his hips, turning away to survey the area with a critical eye. "Kind of weird to see the place without them, actually."

Queen Janai had declined King Ezran's offer to repatriate Sol Regem's remains, so the skeleton had been disassembled and carted away under guard to Queen Aanya in Duren. She and King Ezran were constantly exchanging letters about ongoing projects with names like "Ruby Fire" and "Solar Flare." The Crownguard's first and only concern was the safety of the ruling monarch, so Soren didn't give it any more thought than that.

It wasn't like he had any standing to do more than silently worry, anyway. Opeli and Corvus were always fretting over things like the King's state of mind, which plans he might later regret—even his relationship with his brother, still fractured months later, with no sign of future repair.

Callum might not have been on the wrong side like Claudia, but Soren could see the glimmer of her furious pride, in him. Her fierce, unquestioning love. Her obsession. All the things that, when it came time for her to choose, had made her choose wrong. Over and over and over again.

"I might still be able to find it, in the ground," Terry added, looking back at him. "It depends on how many other skeletons are down there."

"Okay, I'm gonna need some context on this one, Super Salad," Soren replied, pulling one arm across his chest to stretch out his shoulder. "Find what?"

"The spot where we—where Claudia and I buried your dad."

Soren froze mid-stretch. He'd looked for Viren's body in the ruins of the castle, because of course he had. Why wouldn't he? His father had died more than once, already—it was only sensible to want confirmation that he was well and truly gone, this time.

They'd pulled bodies from the rubble for days, and Viren's hadn't been among them. Neither had they found the staff, until it reappeared in Claudia's hands at the Moon Nexus.

"She told me Katolians usually burn your dead, but we didn't have the time or materials to prepare the body for that," Terry continued, sheepish. "So I helped her dig the hole, and she built a little cairn to mark it. The stones probably got scattered during all the fighting, later on."

Soren had lost his father more times and in more ways than he could count—nearly as many as he'd lost Claudia. He would have thought it'd stop hurting, by now. A grave for those losses shouldn't mean anything at all.

Terry looked out over the Valley again. "I just thought you might want to know. Maybe put up a better marker."

Soren grimaced—he'd held the shoulder stretch well past the twenty seconds his stretching routine demanded, throwing everything off. He squinted up through the sunlight at the rough forms taking shape on the memorial wall. King Ezran was engaged in an animated discussion with the lead architect, who appeared to be having some kind of dispute with the Sunfire elf mages over the engineering of the monument's eventual ever-burning flame.

"Yeah, well," he said, switching arms to stretch his other shoulder. He didn't look at Terry. "I didn't."