#just like… angst and concerned Rayla people

[zuppizup]

Angsty Rayllum baby centric fic ahead. Read the tags, my lovelies

———

Rest

Rayla hates being pregnant. Not for the typical reasons people joke about to her, though she is frustrated with how ill she feels, and how delicately everyone treats her.

No, she hates how anxious it makes her. How every moment feels filled with thoughts of the baby, if she is comfortable, if she is growing…

If she is alive.

After all this time, she finds she cannot relax.

From her swollen belly it is clear that the baby will be born any day now, but she finds her worry only grows with each passing day. She doesn’t think it will abate until she finally holds her baby in her arms, until she can truly see she’s real and well and… alive.

They’ve been through this too many times before. Her heart cannot take one more break.

Not this particular one, at least.

It’s been broken many times before, she thinks, but this type of loss is something different. Mourning for what might have been is so different from mourning people that were, that others knew.

It feels silly and pointless. Why be sad for what never was? Why look upon an empty crib and think of the baby that might have been but over and over never was.

This one seemed to stick.

It came to a point where her frame could no longer hide and the rumours were growing and growing and eventually it seemed ridiculous to try and dismiss the obvious.

She hated all the well wishing though. All the congratulations and the excitement.

The hidden losses robbed her off her innocence, she thinks.

Everyone seems to see this as a time of joy, of celebration.

It feels wrong for her to dampen others spirits with her constant concerns.

And so, even now, as people seem more and more excited and happy and confident, she wants nothing more than to shy away, to be alone. Just her and Callum.

She does not want to mourn with an audience.

Callum is supportive, as he always is. Patience and understanding. Always willing to listen.

She cannot explain the ache though. The fear. The anxiety.

She doesn’t want to breathe life into it.

He doesn’t believe in fate, has defied it more than once in his defence, but she cannot help but worry… what if she’s bringing this upon them? What if her endless running thoughts are the reason why they never stay.

She’s gazing at the full moon when the first ache hits her. Dull at first, but persistent. Callum is snoring behind her, and she elects not to wake him because who wants to be woken for bad news?

She’s felt this ache before.

Eventually the pain becomes too much though. She cries out, despite her best efforts and Callum wakes suddenly.

She worries he’s going to yell at her, annoyed that she kept another thing from him, but instead he rushes to the guards, insists they call for the midwife and that’s when it truly hits her.

The baby is coming.

The midwife is too far away and Rayla has no idea what she is doing. She was too afraid of tempting fate. The books Callum procured for her untouched on her bedside table.

True to form, Callum has been reading and he coaches her through it.

She thinks she can’t do it, it’s all too much, too painful, too terrifying but then there’s a pain worse than anything she could ever imagine, followed by a tiny, strangled cry and Callum is laughing and crying and looking between her and a pink sticky bundle in his arms and she realises, the baby is real, screaming and grasping... and alive.

And a boy.

Tiny and pink and screaming and perfect and real.

She cries too as she holds him, strokes his tiny squished cheek and finally feels herself relax.

He’s here.

He’s real.

He’s alive.

He has Callum’s eyes and her nose and perhaps both of their lungs because he is clearly furious about the bright or the cold or something but Callum swaddles him in a blanket and pushes the hair back from her sweaty brow and he’s crying and she is too, and they have a baby, a real baby, a tiny little son.

Even now, days later, it all seems so surreal. He’s got over his abrupt and sudden entry to this world (as babies do) snuggled against her breast and sleeping soundly. Callum is sleeping too, drooling on her shoulder, his arm lazily lying across both of them.

She smiles at him, still amazed by how much their son looks like him… by how much love and adoration she feels for both of them. How warm and happy and content she feels.

She looks at her beautiful, healthy, amazing son and the man that helped her bring him into this world and feels she can finally relax.

She assumes people would scoff to hear it, new baby and all, but she feels she can finally rest.

[numptypylon]

Epilogue

I added a short epilogue to Reunion and Intersection today, but I also wrote a much longer one, full of fluffy comfort, to get through the angst-writing in the first two chapters. It’s unedited, unfinished and ridiculously self-indulgent, and I don’t think it really goes with the story, so I elected to not post it, but I’m attaching it here, under the cut, for those interested. Keep in mind it’s a reject for a reason though; this is what my writing looks like in the explorative phase where I’m looking for the point, and in this case I didn’t really find it XD

~2K under the readmore

Callum got there early. A lot of people eyed him warily, but a letter from Queen Janai was a good smoother-of-grumpy-elf-tempers.

No-one had seen Rayla, so… she was probably not here yet.

He went to the inn, bought a large room, lit a roaring fire in there, activating the Sunfire rock he used to keep warm at night under the covers of the bed, and calling for the tub to be filled. It had the usual Skywing heating arrangement, only needing a good Fulminis to heat the water.

He resisted flying out to find her. He risked missing her again, and her leaving town before he got back.

It was about… hitting the point of intersection.

So, he waited at the city gates. He didn’t have to wait nearly as long as he expected, considering the distance she would have had to traverse. Maybe she had recovered and had travelled faster than he thought.

It was definitely her though. A small, lone figure on the mountainside.

He intended to wait for her until she got to him, but then she stopped to lean against a tree and he realized that she had not recovered and was up there sick in the snow… and that resolve evaporated like it had never been.

Like he would ever let her struggle alone a moment longer than she needed to.

 **

 It was a measure of her exhaustion that she didn’t notice him until he was basically right in front of her, and even then, her reaction was so much slower than usual.

It still… it was hard to believe it was real. For her too, surely more so.

He numbly pulled his scarf off, packing it around her neck and head. He grazed her cheek and felt it and she felt it and… she felt it, because the tears that had built up in her eyes spilled over at his touch, slipping down her dirty and flushed cheeks.

She looked ready to drop, and felt it too, when he put his arms around her and her disbelief gave way to relief. Whatever ridiculous level of stubbornness had kept her upright for the last day and night of walking through snow and up mountains when she should have been in bed… fell away and she slumped almost completely in his arms.

She sobbed hoarsely for a bit, and he let her.

And she let him, when his hand cupped the back of her head and her hair tickled his fingers and it hit him too that… it was really real, she was here.

They needed to… get to the inn though, so he pulled away and wiped his face. They could… and probably would… have a longer cry and a longer hug later. But she was sick and cold and there was a roaring fire and a filled bathtub two minutes of flight away.

“Let’s go,” he said. “I knew you were coming this way and that you were sick. And I booked a room for… you.” For them both, he hoped, but-

“What?” she blubbered. “But… aren’t… aren’t you mad?”

“I mean, of course I am, but… that’s not really… that can wait.”

“I’m…” she laughed weakly, more tears spilling over. “I’m so happy to see you and there’s… so many things I would like to say and… and I’m such a mess right now and so tired and I’m just… I’m so tired I cried earlier just because a stupid pine branch hit me in the face and knocked me off my sled and it continued down the mountain without me and I’d have to walk instead and-“

“Hey, hey!” He stroked down her flushed, wet cheeks, along fresh scratches where presumably that branch had hit her. Sledding, huh… she always was extremely resourceful and oh so daring. And that explained how she got here so fast. “Rayla, it’s okay. You can rest first. I’ll take care of things… of you. For as long as you want me to, but… definitely for the next few days.”

“How c-can you… are you… here-”

He leant his head against her forehead, relishing in the feeling of contact, even if her skin was clammy and too-hot. “That’s… complicated,” he said. “And also simple. You called me here. I came.”

“Manis. Pluma. Volantis.”

 **

 She staggered, when they set down, steadying herself on his shoulder, and Callum was glad he had elected to land in front of the inn instead of at the city gates.

She definitely wasn’t well yet, her breath rasping in her throat, her forehead beading with sweat, cheeks and ears flushed. The fever had maybe broken, but it hadn’t quite left. And she was exhausted, trembling with the effort of staying upright, her eyes dull and glassy.

People were staring, when they went inside, but the innkeeper came over and recommended the soup of the day, and their house-made herbal tea blend with Sky Yak milk, and assured them it would be brought to their room shortly, with a look of very obvious sympathy at Rayla.

And then the door shut behind them.

“I owe-” she started, but he cut her right off.

“No. You’re owed,” he said tightly.

“Owed what?” She sounded… nervous.

“Soup. Hot tea. A warm bed and a fire someone else made. General fussing. Love. Forgiveness. Kindness. A damn break, for once.”

“L-love?”

“Yeah, love.”

Her clumsy fingers fumbled at the clasps of her armor. They were still ice cold when he touched them, the skin red and no-doubt sore.

But she for once didn’t resist any help he gave, sinking gratefully into the tub he had prepared. A warm bath was possibly not great for her fever, but… it was pros and cons and he needed to warm up her hands and feet.

She was barely conscious when he helped her back out of the tub, so he just put her down on a towel on the bed, drying her hair as best he could. He at least managed to get her awake to pull off her own wet underwear and pull his clean night shirt over her head.

 **

 “Callum?” she asked, because… she wanted things, and she could have them. “Stay with me? Please.”

He pressed against her back, warm and real.

His hands engulfed hers, big and soft and familiar.

Full of real little details that her brain hadn’t accurately recreated.

The callus at the side of his right index finger, from his charcoal pencil. The scar from a clumsy sparring accident at the second knuckle.

His voice when he said her name and when he told her it was okay.

His kinda… snuffling non-snoring sleep-sound.

And new things, that she hadn’t known to add.

His arms, still skinny, but stronger than they had been.

His too-long hair flopping over his ears.

And things she had yet to find out.

 **

 “Morning-“ she muttered, as she woke, feeling warm. And her throat felt a lot better, too and most of that sticky, gross fever feeling was gone, although there was still some sluggish daze, everything just a bit vaguer and floatier than it should have been.

“Afternoon,” Callum corrected lightly, but there was something not so light underneath. “You slept for… 14 hours. I bet you’re hungry.”

“I bet… you were worried.” That was a long time to worry and not wake her to assuage it but just sit in it, watching her sleep.

She reached out to stroke his furrowed brow. Her hands were bandaged though, so she couldn’t touch him properly. She didn’t remember, but did recall something about Callum saying he had called a doctor, and then she must have conked out pretty hard and slept through it.

She clenched and released her hands experimentally. Seemed alright except for being stiff and sore?

“What’s wrong with me?” she asked, staring down at the thick bandages.

“Except for the illness that nearly killed you because you’re such a massive dummy? Lots of things.” He took her hands, starting to unwind the bandages. “For your hands, hopefully only frostnip. I’m supposed to check that, when you woke, take you back to the doctor if there’s signs of deeper frostbite.”

There was some thick ointment, probably the reason for the bandages. Her hands looked reddened, the fingers a bit swollen, but… not so bad. Nothing was white or black or blistered, so really, nothing to worry about, where frostbite was concerned.

Callum wasn’t satisfied with a visual inspection though, cupping her hands in his, methodically checking she could feel all her fingers and make a full fist.

“I think it’s okay,” he said, breathing out, relieved. He did tend to catastrophize- “No… no risk of amputation this time-” His fingers slid across her left wrist, the faint whitened scars from where the binding had dug into her skin and where the sunforge blade had burnt her.

“It’s definitely okay,” she said. “Barely hurts.” She cupped his face, feeling his skin just fine against her fingertips. “It’s not like back then, okay?”

“How do you feel today?”

“Better. Way better. I’m ready to go, if-”

“What?!” He stared at her in disbelief. “Absolutely not. You didn’t hear what the doctor said. But I did, she got here while you were sleeping. And absolutely not.”

“What-“ Was it not just a regular bug?

He breathed, slowly and deliberately. “You’re okay, it’s a regular winter infection going around. But you did a number on your own immune system with the hypothermia and mountain climbing and… she said you were undernourished, dehydrated, stressed and critically exhausted. And that you would do well to take a week or more to fully recover, during which you should eat and rest plenty, stay warm and keep stress down. Does that sound like your regular travel, to you?”

Well… not so much.

“So, I’ll ask again, how do you feel today?”

“Tired,” she sighed. “My hands are stiff and achy. My throat hurts. My legs are wobbly. My head feels full of snot.” She smiled, despite all that. “My heart is happy to see you. It’s okay if you’re- I know… that it’s complicated.”

“It is. We have… some things to talk about. Promise you won’t leave until we do?”

“I promise.”

“Okay. Then, I think we should put the complicated things away for a few days. Until you’re better and it doesn’t hurt your throat to talk. Because… we have a lot of talking to do.”

“You don’t… need to stay. For those few days. If it’s hurting you to-”

He sighed heavily. “It does.” Yeah, he couldn’t say that it didn’t. Being around her with so much… unresolved. She didn’t want that for him. She didn’t… want to have those long and hard conversations right now either, when she was still tired and fevered and liable to burst into tears at the slightest provocation. “But it would hurt me more to leave. Didn’t it hurt you? To leave?”

“Yeah.” So, so much.

He reached out to pack his scarf around her throat more closely, the soft, warm knit a soothing feeling against the raw ache.

“Lie down, okay? Be sick? I’ll read you a story. It has murder and dismemberment in it, I asked the innkeeper specifically.”

[bard-llama]

WiP Wednesday: Upcoming Thronebreaker Fics + Gascon Backstory

Okay, for today’s WiP Wednesday, I wanna share a few fics I have planned for Thronebreaker! Don’t worry, I will definitely continue writing Iorveth/Roche (and also Isengrim/Eldain, though most of those haven’t been published yet. But I have a doc with 8 WiPs for them).

But now that I’ve properly met the Thronebreaker OT3, I am suuuuuuper here for them. I’m still kind of figuring out their dynamic, but to be honest, 90% of my fics will probably take place in the months they travel from Lyria’s capital to Aedirn, ‘cause that journey would take a long time! Even just to the border would be a long walk (and armies move SLOW), but then Vengerberg is fairly central and I assume Black Rayla comes in somewhere near the Moulderwoods, since that’s Eldain’s territory. So like... it would take MONTHS of slowly traveling down the road - and also probably avoiding patrols and maybe even towns, because they’re outlaws now. And considering most towns are BUILT on major roads...

Point is, there’s plenty of time for them to get to know each other while traveling to Aedirn. And I hear that Thronebreaker gets pretty sad and depressing (I don’t know the details, but I also don’t mind spoilers. I know some big ones already, but I’m sure there’s more) so tbh, not sure if I’ll ever finish the game. Which makes the period of Meve, Reynard, and their handful of deserters traveling with Gascon and his Strays of Spalla perfect for fic settings lol.

So far, I have 3 specific fics planned and a few other ideas percolating. The first one is the Taint of the Common Man, which I went into pretty in detail here, so I won’t repeat that (but be warned, link goes to very noncon/dubcon set up stuff).

The second fic is Gascon-focused angst! Well, really ot3 angst, but I’ve only written Gascon’s POV so far, though next is Reynard’s POV and then Meve’s. The premise is that they’re on the road to Aedirn and they’ve been sleeping together the three of them for several months - but Gascon gets a reminder of exactly what he is to them when they mention their 10th anniversary. And he tries to act normal and cheerful and brash, but his heart is breaking because he stupidly fell in love with a queen and her top general and what is he? Nothing.

So he starts to subtly pull away from them, trying to protect his heart. But Reynard notices and worries over it and brings it up with Meve - who is all “nah, he’s fine”, and then watches Gascon and has to rescind her words, because he is absolutely not fine. And Gascon is spending more and more time with his strays (and his right hand gal in particular, which they’re totally not jealous over or anything), so it has to be them that are the problem. Which means they have to talk. 

I’m still thinking about non-sexual ways Meve and Reynard can show Gascon that he’s loved, so if you have any suggestions, feel free to throw them my way! But it’s definitely gonna have a happy ending with them working to show Gascon that he does belong with them.

The third fic is actually about Gascon becoming the Duke of Dogs XD If there’s a canon explanation, then too bad, because I like mine lol. Anyway, remember that right hand gal I mentioned? Well, her name is Medusa and she has purple hair that she braids and styles meticulously to look like snakes around her head. She also happens to be the best cat burglar in Aedirn - but she wasn’t always. So this fic is set way in the past, to when they first meet, because she’s the one that introduces him to the Strays of Spalla and vouches for him at first. Obviously later they both rise through the ranks and once Gascon takes over leadership, he works to make them more of a family (a family of crime lol).

Anyway, before any of that, we have Gascon as an 8yo who just saw his entire family murdered by the king’s guards for the crime of speaking out against the way nobles treat their people and their land. (idk if a reason is given in canon, but that’s my reason because it connects to some of the changes Gascon makes to the Strays. Basically, while they’re still a gang of criminals, I’ve decided to take inspiration from the incredible Black Panthers (who, to be clear, were NOT criminal, but were extensively treated like it by the FBI because they took care of and protected their community (you know, the ones the FBI was actively spying on and introducing highly addictive drugs to). I think I’ve lost the thread a bit and there are a lot of parentheses, so I’ll just conclude this bit by saying that my version of the Strays of Spalla steal from wealthy merchants and even wealthier nobles and use their ill-gotten gains to help the peasants (esp around Spalla, but across Lyria too). Which matters because I think Reynard semi understands that poor people are people (he talks to Meve about being proud to fight alongside the Strays because they’re fighting for freedom and what better cause is there?), but he’s still a nobleman who has spent the majority of his life at the king’s side. And Meve is queen. She has no fucking idea what the actual people of Lyria’s lives are like, because she’s always been concerned with managing her realm - which means managing nobles, who then are responsible for tending to their land aka getting taxes and shit from the peasants. So basically, both of them have a LOT of blindspots about what real actual people’s lives are like in their ‘great realm’. But Gascon? Gascon has lived that life.)

Right, so, the plot. The plot is actually not at all about how Gascon changes the Strays (oops), but about how he first joins them. So, 8yo Gascon. He just saw his family murdered, he was only saved because he was hidden in a closet, stuffing his own fist in his mouth to keep the guards from hearing him cry. But he Knows that they’ll kill him if they find out he survived, so he goes through the house and grabs what he can (what the guards didn’t loot) and tries not to throw up and cry too much. Then he runs.

But lil Gascon Brossard is a nobleman’s son and that’s the only life he’s known until now. And it’s obvious from his fine clothes that he has money - which means he ends up getting beaten and robbed on the streets a lot. Eventually, he learns to not share his name (’cause WOW that’s such a nobleman’s name lmao), but like... he’s 8. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, he’s just trying to survive. (Also, for extra angst, I’m thinking he got his mom’s signet ring from the house before he left, but it got stolen. But when he’s older, he steals it back.)

I’m not sure why he decides to rob the house of a minor noble in the Spalla area, but he does. And he actually plans it pretty carefully - he creates a cigarette bomb for a time-delayed (minor) explosion that busts open the door to the kennel and scares all the dogs, so they go howling and barking and running and create chaos. (A noble’s household would likely have a lot of dogs, most of them working ones.) His plan is to break into the kitchen while everyone is otherwise occupied and steal enough to eat for a good while. 

But before he can do this, while he’s hiding in the bushes and waiting for his bomb to go off, someone else finds him. Specifically, Medusa finds him - because she was casing the place to steal stuff (probably jewels. She really likes shiny things). So she pulls a knife on him and demands to know who he is. And idk if the Brossards owned a duchy or if he was just being cheeky, but he’s all, “I’m a duke!”

“Yeah?” Medusa laughs. “Duke of what?”

At that moment, the bomb goes off with a little pop and then utter chaos descends as dogs start howling and baying and barking. And Gascon just grins his gap-toothed grin (he probably lost some teeth getting beaten tbh) and proclaims, “of dogs!”

Then he invites her to come raid the kitchen with him. And she’s not 8yo, but she’s only a few years older and those pastries do smell good. So the steal the whole lot and then Medusa brings him into the Strays and it starts to get a little bit easier for Gascon to survive. Idk how much he hides his name (’cause Gascon is SUCH a nobleman’s name, but also, he later signs orders to his men with all his amazing made up titles and then -G) but he definitely starts going predominantly by “Duke” and “the Duke of Dogs”.

Anyway shit, I gotta go get ready for an event, so - hope you enjoyed hearing about my upcoming Thronebreaker fics!

[foxie-roxie]

why rayllum is a MASTERPIECE part 3

*RUBS MY CLAWS TOGETHER* IT IS SEASON 3 TIME BITCHES AND H O L Y S H I T I LOVE THIS SEASON SO MUCH

i even rewatched it for this!

this time i’ll try to have SOME order, and go by episode. this will however still include unintelligible screaming

1. DAMN THESE FUCKERS BE PINING MORE THAN A PINE TREE FOREST!

first off, affectionate eye rolling, nose boop, and head bonk is the best thing.

second, IF SOMEONE SAYS THAT DURING WHEN CALLUM WAS HELPING RAYLA PUT ON HIS SCARF AND THEY J STARED AT EACHOTHER FOR A BIT BEFORE RAYLA TURNED AWAY THAT HE WAS N O T LOST IN HER EYES? they’re wrong. this is fact now.

third, their teamwork and decision making is excellent. they agree to try and sneak past sol regem, and when that fails try talking to him and then decide to simply trick his senses with the scarf. and instead of rayla shooting down callum’s “smelltriloquism” idea, she simply adds onto it! LOVE HEALTHY FRIENDSHIPS

“i think it’s good luck!” YES IT IS RAY THAT’S UR BOYFRIENDS SCARF

also, here you go. you’re welcome.

2. STILL PINING. GOD DAMN.

first, CALLUM BEING SO EXCITED BY ALL THE MAGIC IN XADIA IS S O CUTE! MY SON. this might turn into an overrall review of s3. o well

second. FLUSTERED RAYLA AND FLUSTERED CALLUM. Y E S

third, THE ADORABURR FIELD! their smiles were so fond and soft and A. they make me cry of joy. 

an overall look on it, i like how this episode really shows their feelings clearly. no “will they won’t they”, at least for rayla. it’s clear she has feelings.

3. AH FUCK. ANGST.

first i love how when rayla mentions that she’s excited and happy but also terrified, callum tries to comfort her. good boi. best boi.

second, elf callum. i love that scene so much even if the second-hand embarrassment kills me, and rayla is j like “why the fuck do i love you. im gonna kill him.”

third, DANCE! callum not being rude and saying her home is “modest” before rayla explains it’s an illusion, his BLUSH WHEN SHE HELPS HIM, and the softness in general. rayla’s excitement that she’s home and talks abt that she can show callum where she went to school, the best moonberry surprise place, until...

fourth, AH FUCK. A N G S T T I M E. rayla being crest-fallen before callum says that it must’ve been a mistake, and she realizes that ethari would probably understand!

and then CONFIRMED GAYS. YES.

rayla realizing ethari ghosted her too and then callum GOING O F F. he angy and when rayla runs out callum IMMEDIATELY FOLLOWS (like in a later episode) and comforts her again.

when ethari comes down and breaks the spell and says to callum “trees to meet you too” and rayla’s like “don’t encourage him”

also callum trying to get on the shadowpaw and ethari being Concerned is AMAZING. concerned dad content

i’ll talk more about ezran/ruthari/the dark magic trio in a later ted talk

4. H E R E W E G O

first, rayla clearly being sad and callum picking up on that quickly (he even seems to be almost falling on purpose, perhaps to make her smile?) and asking if she’s ok before being shot down by rayla insisting she is fine. GOD DAMN. THAT HURTS.

second, their interaction with nyx is so amazing. rayla being protective of zym and callum being a DORK is awesome, but also their decision making.

after rayla reluctantly decides that they can go see how nyx could get them across the desert so quickly, they see the ambler and then their reasoning is amazing.

“what do you think?”

“the dragon queen is dying.” and then i forget the rest of the exact quote but they give a subtle nod to eachother. they make their decisions TOGETHER. AS A TEAM. AND THAT’S ON HEALTHY FRIENDSHIPS X2!

third, callum continuing to gently press for rayla to express her emotions. he doesn’t pressure her, but seems to simply let her know that if she needs to talk (when she insists she’s fine), he is there. 

four, MORE FLUSTERED RAYLLUM. YES. TY NYX but also fuck u for taking zym but also ur hot- A N Y W A Y

five. OOOOOOH. MY FAVORITE SCENE.

rayla’s crying and callum tries to reassure her. nyx is plotting, while rayla runs away and callum follows. Y E S.

rayla talks about how there’s nobody left that cares about her and she lost everything.. and then the SPEECH. i have this speech memorized i’ve watched this scene so many times

"JUST SHUT UP, YOU'RE TALKING CRAZY. JUST, LISTEN TO ME. YOU'RE TOO GOOD TO FEEL THIS BAD ABOUT YOURSELF. I KNOW THAT, AND YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT. YOU HAVE TRUE COURAGE, AND A BIG HEART! I'VE SEEN YOU GET KNOCKED DOWN SO MANY TIMES AND EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. YOU GET UP AGAIN. THAT'S REAL STRENGTH. AND.. AND YOU'RE TEN TIMES FUNNIER THAN ANY HUMAN I KNOW! chuckle SEE? SEE YOU KNOW YOU'RE AMAZING. YOU'RE SMART AND FAST AND BEAUTIFUL. RAYLA YOU'RE THE MOST AMAZING PERSON I'VE EVER MET."

LOVE THEMMM

and then rayla kisses him and that’s all that happened. callum was not a dumbass. right? RIGHT???

5. MY FAVORITE EPISODE!

first, rayla saving callum from the soulfang serpents and callum helping her get up is AMAZING, LOVE THAT.

second, callum tryna get a good position and rayla j saying to hold onto her and callum GETTING FLUSTERED. BOY IS PINING also he didn’t have to hold her that close.

“I DON’T THINK OF HER THAT WAY” “YOU AND I DON’T HAVE THAT YET” LIAR.

three, THEM JUMPING OFF THE AMBLER AND. THAT WHOLE MOMENT? THE ROMANTIC TENSION IS KILLING ME

four. DAMN CALLUM RLLY DO BE HAVING HEART EYES @ RAYLA WHILE SHE KILLS LIKE 80 SOULFANGS HE IS PINING PART 2

five. THE SPEECH. THE SOFTNESS. THE KISSES. GOD DAMN. FAVORITE SCENE OUT OF THE ENTIRETY OF TDP. LOVE THEM.

also here you go again

what can i say except YOU’RE WELCOME

6. ANGST BUT ALSO FLUFF ALSO REUNION

once again won’t b talking abt ezran specifically but there’s some passing mentions of him from now on

first, rayla and callum reaching the stone thunder and callum asking “is it... a statue?” and rayla sadly saying “no. it’s not a statue” A. I CRI.

1.5 ayla and callum best dragon parents

i’ll get to an actual analysis later

second, THIS MOMENT IS UNDERRATED EVEN THO IT’S ONE OF MY FAVS why has nobody mentioned the lil tender moment where ezran is by phoe-phoe and rayla puts her hand on callum’s shoulder AND CALLUM PUTS HIS HAND ON HERS. SO SWEET.

third, OK I’LL STOP MOST OF MY UNINTELLIGIBLE SHRIEKS AND ACTUALLY ANALYZE THIS.

callum is upset because of thunder and rayla sympathizes immediately. this is similar to how callum lets rayla let out her own emotions, and rayla is doing the same. he explains how he feels angry, upset, confused, sad, and rayla quickly empathizes. he keeps on venting, not knowing whether to feel regretful, or glad, and how he’s confused because that’s sarai’s spear. he feels sorry that all this happened, but rayla reassures him that zym and ezran are going to break the cycle! that’s hope! and then they hold hands and i screech

AND THAT’S SO FUCKING HEALTHY AND I LOVE IT. THEY RLLY BREAK ALL BAD HET RELATIONSHIP STEREOTYPES (coughbutistillheadcanonthembothasbiandcallumistransilldieonthishillcough)

7. angst but not rayllum angst so its ok

first, they begin to go up the storm spire and i really love their banter. “and i’m guessing the dragon queen didn’t make her den at a nice, halfway kinda place?” “nope. tiptop!”

cuties.

second, ASSDHFNF THE FACT THEY M O C K THE IDEA OF A FORBIDDEN RELATIONSHIP. THEY’RE IN LOVE AND THE WORLD CAN DEAL WITH IT. LOVE THAT FOR THEM

third, RAYLA CATCHING CALLUM. IT’S. NOT RLLY BIG I JUST LIKE IT AND THINK IT’S CUTE HOW EVEN THOUGH SHE WAS ALSO OUT OF BREATH SHE RAN UP TO CATCH HIM. 

four, AHSDHGDHFG THEY DEADASS FORGOT EZRAN WAS THERE. more flustered rayllum i love that

8. FUCK IT’S RAYLLUM ANGST NOOOO

one, ibis is j a good boi. back to rayla and callum

two, rayla going in to see the dragon queen and when she runs out callum QUICKLY FOLLOWS to see if she’s ok. asks her if she’s ok, and she OPENS UP!! CHARACTER GROWTH BABY!!! and then they hold hands and i once again shriek

three, AH. HELLO ANGST.

before we go to the actual angst, can i say that THE LAUGH AFTER RAYLA SAID “STORM SNEEZE” IS SO CUTE. CALLUMS IN LOVE. MY SON.

oh no.

*bonks rayla on the head* nO SELF SACRIFICING!!

although their fight is super angsty and i hate it, it does provide some conflict and more plot because it gives callum a reason to want to find out the truth about rayla’s parents. and then he does! people argue that this fight was unnecessary or that callum was a jerk, but this was needed i think. he did let his worry become a bit of anger, and that was not a nice move, but he knows he fucked up and fixes it!

and then we get soft rayllum this is fine

9. AND YOU THOUGHT LAST EPISODE WAS BAD N O *CRYING*

there’s not much rayllum featured in this ep, but the amount we do get is 80 PERCENT ANGST AND I WASN’T OK WITH IT

first, the fluff! callum trying to do the wing spell and rayla teasing “did you pull a muscle in the middle of a jumping jack?” is so cute. i LOVE THEM. also they hold hands and i SH RIEK again. 

also soren how dare you interrupt callum he was abt to confess

second, callum when he’s explaining the battle plan and his ZAP HAND. rayla is j watching him like “yep. that is my dork.”

and CALLUM SEEMS SO FOND WHEN JANAI CALLS RAYLA THE LAST DRAGONGUARD. PERHAPS I SOB

skipping forward in time a bit for the angst oh no

third, callum going up to the storm spire after ez encouraging him to go to rayla. love that soft brotherly relationship. and we think “oh, soft rayllum, right?”

NO. VIREN’S UP THERE.

fourth, THEY DIDN’T NEED ME TO BE ROLLING ON THE FLOOR WTF. the fact that rayla’s blade went right in front of callum and he looks up and sees zym in danger, viren is there, and RAYLA is there, p a n i k.

and then rayla jumps and the entire rayllum fandom SC REAMS after callum’s “no!” before she jumps and “no, no, no, RAYLA!”

fifth, CALLUM NO WHY ARE YOU JUMPING TOO- oh wait its ok he did the wings and im still crying fuck

THAT CONFESSION THO- i cri tears of joy now. they’re in love

sixth, I J WANNA KNOW WHAT THEY WERE TALKING ABOUT BEFORE EZRAN SHOWED UP. like it’s clear that they’re talking or something, but abt what is the question. also yes they hug and raylas fond

seventh, THEY HOLD HANDS!! soft bbs,,,

AAAND IM DONE! this is. quite long so if you read all of this i hope u have a good day and thnx for listening to me ramble with some coherent thoughts

[today-only-happens-once]

Insomnium

Title: Imsomnium

Word Count: 2228

Summary: Callum and Soren have a discussion late one night that neither of them expect. Spoilers for up through the end of Season 3. Follows the final episode of Season 3, taking place a few weeks after. Romantic Rayllum elements. Gen.

Warnings: nightmares involving falling and implied death, vague discussions of trauma from the last episode of Season 3, angst but some comfort/hopeful elements, some exploration of Viren and Soren’s relationship but doesn’t go into much depth on that.

A/N: A fic that has been in my head since finishing season 3 of the Dragon Prince but only now got around to finishing it. First time writing this particular fandom, which is always daunting, so I’d love to hear thoughts! Barely edited, and only by yours truly. All mistakes and typos are mine.

…

Callum wakes up in a cold sweat, with the taste of his screams still in on his tongue. His hands are trembling against the sheets of his bed. Bed? It takes him a second to realize where he is—back in his room in the castle. Home. Moonlight streams in through his windows and casts the space around him in a soft blue glow. It reminds him, perhaps oddly, of Zym. The reminder is brief, and leaves an odd ache in his chest.

He loosely curls his hands into fists. He remembers the dream this time. He doesn’t always. Rayla’s face getting further and further away from him as he repeats manus, pluma, volantus over and over with increasing desperation but the wings never come. He’s falling. Rayla is falling faster, getting farther and he can’t—

Callum’s eyes sting.

He scrubs a hand down his face and swings his legs over the edge of his bed. He takes in a deep breath that trembles a bit in his lungs before he sets his feet on the hardwood floors and stands up.

It isn’t always Rayla. Sometimes it’s Zym. Or Ezran. Or their mother. Their father. Or the countless faces that were below him on the battlefield. The war cries and screams of pain still reverberate in his skull and Callum is too exhausted to contain the wince that follows. He thinks again of his little brother and reminds himself that Ezran saw much of the same things he did. He is glad that Ezran, at the very least, doesn’t have nightmares.

Callum pads his way to the door and peeks it open into the dark corridor. He’s unsurprised by the three guards that stand outside. After all, Aunt Amaya had insisted, especially with Viren’s body still unrecovered. Callum had tried to explain to her that there was no way he could’ve survived that fall; a statement that Amaya had, in no uncertain terms, told him wasn’t good enough. We don’t want to take any chances, she’d told them.

Callum sighs, opens the door further, and steps out.

The three guards snap to attention. “Prince Callum,” the one in the middle says in greeting.

Callum waves a tired hand in his direction. “Hey,” he replies. “I’m… hungry. I’m going to get a bite to eat from the kitchen.”

“We will accompany you.”

Callum holds up his hands. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine.” He can see the conflicted look in the guards’ eyes and Callum draws a glowing sigil in the air in an effort to remind them that he is not without the ability to protect himself. He waves a hand to dispel the sigil without saying the trigger word, and releases a breath of relief at the guards’ reluctant but affirming nod.

Callum pinches the bridge of his nose as he makes his way through the network of corridors to the kitchen. It feels… weird, to be home right now. Last time Callum had been home had been a lifetime ago, in a rush and under attack. Still believing that his father was alive. Being back in this space without his dad is a constant reminder of his absence. Callum remembers, not for the first time, that Ezran had been here somewhere around a week ago by himself. He wonders if it was hard for Ezran too.

The surrounding silence that seems to cling to the stone walls like moss doesn’t help either. Lots of people had survived the battle at the Storm Spire, but not everybody, and much of the army and soldiers that had occupied the castle had fallen under the direction of Viren. The walls echo with the weight of everyone that was lost, and it leaves Callum feeling a little bit lost too.

The kitchen, mercifully, isn’t a far walk. Callum finds himself turning the corner and pressing through the door to find a platter of jelly tarts awaiting him on the counter. Despite himself, he smiles, and reminds himself that he really ought to thank Barius. Callum quietly makes his way over and snatches one, readying himself to turn back to head towards his room when the sound of footsteps making their way towards him perks his ears.

On instinct more than actual fear, Callum ducks behind the counter.

He realizes as soon as he does it that it’s probably silly to be hiding. But he’d gotten so used to running and hiding that a part of him isn’t sure he knows what to do differently now. So he crouches down and even though he knows it can’t possibly be Viren, the thought flickers through his mind anyway. It’s immediately followed by Rayla’s distant face getting further and further away from him. Callum holds his breath at the footsteps get closer.

But then he hears soft humming, and he realizes that he knows that voice. Callum shakes the nightmares clinging to the edges of his thoughts and stands up. “Soren?”

Soren freezes, his hand still out-stretched towards the platter of jelly tarts beside him. “Uh,” he says, “Hey.” He glances at his hand as if it is somehow apart from the rest of himself before he drops it to his side.

Callum steps from around the corner he’d been hiding behind. “You’re up late.”

Soren arches an eyebrow. “So are you.” He’s in plain tunic and trousers—startlingly casual and comfortable, and Callum realizes in the back of his mind that he’s almost never seen Soren in anything but full armor.

Callum ducks his head sheepishly at the comment. “Uh, yeah. Hungry, I guess,.” He brandishes the jelly tart that is still in his hand.

“Right,” Soren says with a quick shake of his head. “No, yeah. Me too.” He quickly snatches one of the pastries off the platter. He makes no move to eat it.

Between them is an awkward silence. The kitchen is cold without a fire in the stove, and the moonlight is barely enough to make out the edges of the counter and the silhouetted shape of Soren in the dark. Callum’s eyes are beginning to adjust to the lighting but he still can’t really see Soren’s expression. It’s just something about the way he’s standing—one hand covering another, face turned away, shoulders curling in—that makes the question tumble past Callum’s lips before he’s even really thought about it.

“You okay?”

Soren’s startled gaze flashes up to meet Callum’s in the dark. “Why are you asking?”

Callum lifts a shoulder. “It just seems like something is bothering you.”

Soren huffs a humorless laugh. “It’s… nothing, your Highness.” He turned towards the door.

“Ezran told me, you know,” Callum says suddenly. Soren freezes again. “About what you did. To protect him.”

Soren doesn’t say anything for a moment. When he does, the words sound stilted and clumsy. “I—I’m a member of the Captain’s Guard. I’m sworn to protect the king.”

“That didn’t make it easy.”

Callum doesn’t miss the way Soren won’t look him in the eyes.

“I was just fulfilling my duy.”

“He was your father—”

“It was an illusion—”

“But you didn’t know that,” Callum insists. “Did you?”

Soren shakes his head quickly. Dismissively. “Callum—”

“Soren, I—” Callum stops, then sighs.

He doesn’t understand why he’s so adamant that it was nothing. Callum had never known Soren that well—he’d describe their relationship was strained even when it was at its best—but he knew enough to know that Soren basically had worshipped the ground Viren walked on. He still remembers vividly the earnestness with which Soren had described his father when they were making a plan in the Storm Spire. He makes you think that as long as you do what he says, you must be doing the right thing.

Ezran had told him what had happened between Soren and Viren with eyes aged more than Callum was prepared to see in his little brother. And Callum hadn’t quite believed it at first.

“Thank you,” Callum says, despite all the other things he wants to say. “I don’t… have much family left. And if I’d lost Ezran too…” Callum swallows hard against the idea. “Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do.”

Soren glances up and meets Callum’s solemn gaze for a fleeting moment. “Gotta protect the family that we have left, huh?”

Callum realizes with a sudden clarity that Soren has none left. “Friends, too.”

Soren stares at him but Callum can’t read his expression in the dark. He gives a singular nod. Callum looks at the jelly tart in his hand, then holds it out towards Soren across from him. “Here,” he says. “Take it. I’m… not actually hungry.”

Soren seems to consider it for a moment before he accepts it. “Thanks.” He makes no move to eat that one either, and after a pause, drops both of them back on the platter. “I’m not that hungry either.”

Callum glances at the abandoned jelly tarts. “Something wrong?” he asks again.

There’s a flicker of something—rare and honest—through his eyes even in the dark. He shrugs. “You know,” he says, as if it’s a real answer.

Callum sighs—again—and nods. “Yeah.”

There’s another beat of silence. Heavy, measured footsteps echo down the corridor outside the kitchen door. Callum tenses—more out of habit than concern—and wonders idly when (or if) he was ever going to unlearn some of the behaviors he’d adopted in taking Zym aback to Xadia. The footsteps pass without pause.

“So,” Soren says, startling Callum out of his thoughts. “You and the elf girl?”

Callum blinks, the mention of Rayla causing his face to warm. He is suddenly grateful for the dark. “Er, yeah?”

Soren holds up a hand as if to signal he means no harm. “What’s that like?”

Callum isn’t sure why Soren is asking, but he sees no reason to not be honest with him. “She’s… great. She’s brave, and smart, and strong—“Callum cuts off as his nightmare crashes into the forefront of his mind again. Her tear-stained face, his name tearing from her throat, Rayla getting further and further away, his wings never forming, him never being able to catch her…

“You okay?” Soren asks, echoing Callum’s question from a moment ago. His brows are scrunched together in something like concern.

Callum scrubs a hand across his eyes. “I don’t know.”

Soren looks taken aback, and Callum wonders if emotional honesty was a completely foreign concept to him. “What’s wrong?” Soren asks.

“I—” Callum suddenly falters. “I haven’t been sleeping well.”

Soren rubs the back of his neck and averts his gaze. “Yeah,” he says, in a more subdued voice. “I’ve been having nightmares too.”

Callum looks up. Perhaps Soren was more intuitive than he’d given him credit for. “Do you want to talk about it?”

The question is met with a conflicted silence before Soren rakes his fingers back through his blonde hair and sighs. “It’s… They’re… usually about dad,” he says, the words coming slowly and carefully as if he’s testing them as the leave his lips.

Callum nods. “That’s gotta be hard,” he says, as gently as he can.

He sees the brief clench of Soren’s fist. “Yeah,” Soren says, his gaze distancing for a moment as if lost in thought—or memories—before he shakes himself. “But they’ll go away eventually, right?” he says, and the dismissive tone is suddenly back as if it’s a shield he can throw up in the middle of some kind of battle he’s fighting on his own.

“I don’t know,” Callum says honestly. “I hope so.”

Soren seems to sag. He looks suddenly so much smaller than Callum can ever remember seeing him. “Me too.”

Callum opens his mouth to say something—anything to reassure him, to let him know that he’s not alone, and that he doesn’t have to make himself small like that—but the footsteps are back and this time the door cracks open. A soldier that Callum recognizes but cannot name pokes his head in. “Soren,” he says. “It’s your turn for rotation on the watch.”

Soren stands up a little straighter, squaring his shoulders. “Thank you, Peter. I’m coming.” The other soldier nods, sees Callum and murmurs apologies for intruding before he backs out the door.

Soren moves to follow him, but Callum reaches a hand out. “Soren?”

Soren stops and looks over. “Hm?”

“If they don’t stop, you can talk about it, you know. With me or with someone else. It’s okay to talk about stuff like that. Good, even. It can help it seem less… scary.”

Soren hesitates, then gives Callum a quick nod before he pushes through the door and Callum listens to his hastened footsteps down the hall. Silence returns to the chill in the kitchen around him but Callum figures this is at least a step in the right direction. Soren had started taking steps to getting better, to talking about things he used to be told he shouldn’t, and that was a good thing.

Rayla’s face—terrified and falling—presses against his mind again and Callum groans, scrubbing at his eyes as if it will erase the image from his mind. Echoing the image is Soren’s voice.

They’ll go away eventually, right?

Callum repeats his answer to the dark, cold kitchen.

“I hope so.”

[angelinarecs]

*Updated* Dragon Prince Recs

So I am jumping into this brand new fandom fairly early (for me at least). As such, please excuse this work in progress reccing space as I update and sort through the fics as they come in. And you better give me more Harrow because damn he only lasted three episodes and I require more.

Organized by pairing (or gen) and then alphabetized by title. Summaries (which have been copied from their respective stories) and descriptions are provided. Notation at the end of the description indicates if a story is completed or a WIP.

Gen

a brother’s burden - This was not the first time Callum had almost died for his little brother. It wouldn’t be the last, either. Family/Angst/Hurt/Comfort. Callum was very ready to give his life for Ezran and this story explores why that might be and how that might have occurred in the past. The writing and dialogue are clunky in places and some of the action doesn’t make sense, but I enjoyed the story nontheless. One-shot.

A Snuffed Out Spell(caster) - “I’m sorry,” the elf whispered. To her credit, she sounded genuinely remorseful before she lifted her arm, blade glinting as it swings forward. And Callum knew no more. OR. If Rayla swung a little faster. Drama. Rayla succeeds at killing Callum. Only the first chapter is up thus far and mostly just reccing to read later when it’s complete. WIP, ongoing.

Cardboard Crowns - Callum, adjusting to becoming the King’s adopted son, and the family he makes there. Fluff. The pre-canon adventures of Callum finding a family with the King and his brother. Very cute and well explored themes. WIP, series of one-shots with no unresolved story arcs.

His Protege - Runaan never meant to train Rayla to be an assassin, but unfortunately, it happened, and of course, it came with feelings too. Fluff. A look at Rayla’s past and how she came under Runaan’s tutelage. Using Runaan’s POV really helped the emotional impact of this story. One-shot.

little, and broken (but still good) - family: a triptych (or family: separate and overlapping. They can’t heal all your wounds, but they can help.). Hurt/Comfort/Fluff. Variations on the theme of family. Mostly concerning Rayla, Callum, and Ezran in their original families but also as a found family of their own. I really enjoyed this as an exploration in backgrounds, characterizations, and motivations. One-shot.

Mission in a Bottle - Again. And again. And again. How many times would Rayla have to do this for? Blood stain after blood stain, failure after failure. Trapped in the same torturous day of death. How can she break free from the eternity that is this one hellish day? It was the bands’ fault, she was certain of that. Ever since she tied them around her wrists with the other assassins, she’d been running around in circles, repeating the day of the mission to kill Prince Ezran. What was she doing wrong? Angst. After killing Callum believing him to be Prince Ezran, Rayla becomes trapped in a time loop. With no direction and stuck living the same day over and over again, Rayla is forced to try different plans to get free. WIP, ongoing.

Harrow being an awesome dad

still i pray (to what i cannot see) - “Don’t go,” he hears a quiet, fervent voice near whisper, and it takes him a moment to realise it came from his own mouth. His cheeks burn with humiliation, and there’s apologies on the tip of his tongue, already on the way of tripping out of his mouth.

“I’m not going anywhere,” says Harrow, cutting off Callum’s awkward stuttering. He looks surprised, eyes wide and eyebrows raised, but there’s a smile playing around the corners of his mouth, and it helps calm some of the embarrassment Callum’s feeling. Fluff/Angst. Harrow visits Callum when he’s sick, worried for his stepson and hoping to help him recover. Callum, for his part, isn’t sure how to react to the King acting so much like a father. One-shot.

though in the dark i say - There are times when he forgets to feel like an outsider in this family. Fluff/Family. Callum takes care of a sick Ezran while questioning his place within their family. Harrow takes care of both of them, because they are both his sons. One-shot.

tripping on your good intentions - When an assassin threatens the peace and sanctity of his father’s birthday, Callum reacts without thought. He is the step-son, the replaceable prince, and so he will do everything he can to save his father’s life. Even if it means sacrificing his own. Hurt/Comfort/Angst. Callum jumps in front of the blade meant for the King. Harrow doesn’t understand why. Ezran just wants him to be okay. And Callum believes himself expendable. Three-shot, ongoing.

Brotherly Callum, Ezran

Morality is Relative - In the time since they had set out on their journey, Callum got used to running from angry mobs with pitchforks and the occasional knight that wanted to kill Rayla and Zym and ‘set the princes free’. But those never end with more than a few choice words, a lot of running and sometimes watching Rayla kick butt. A professional bounty hunter who claims to work for the King and who was sent to kill him and Ezran is new. Especially when he manages to capture one of the brothers and intends to use him to lure the other out. Hurt/Comfort. The brothers are ambushed while Rayla is out hunting and have to do their best to defeat the intruder and stay alive. The fight scene is exciting, easy to follow, and intense. Looking forward to the next update. WIP, ongoing.

Dungeon Bros Gren and Runaan

Cellmates - It is possible to learn from your enemies, provided you are both chained up in different rooms without seeing each other and are only allowed to argue. Friendship/Drama. What happens behind the scenes as two people stuck in captivity together try to cope with each other and their surroundings. I really like the idea of Gren and Runaan at least somewhat coming to a peaceable agreement given that they were stuck in the same dungeon for a while. Complete.

Coins in a Bag - We’re just peas in a pod, aren’t we? You know. Peas in a pod. Stuck in the same boat? Two guys that… got captured.” In which Commander Gren and Runaan learn they have more in common than they thought. Being imprisoned together is just the beginning. Of what, neither is sure. Drama. Gren didn’t get to his position without some tactical sense. And he uses it. Runaan is along for the ride. Some nice flashbacks that help flesh out their backgrounds. WIP, ongoing.

Compassion - Gren knows he should leave the moonshadow elf to rot in prison, but he can’t. So when he’s given the opportunity to escape, he takes the elf with him. Friendship/Romance. A cute one-shot told in snippets as the two cellmates turn friends and then turn lovers. One-shot.

Wife and Kids - Gren tries to make small talk with Runaan. Drabble. A short snippet of a conversation that takes place between the two dungeonmates. Even though they are enemies, they have a home and a family outside of these stone walls. One-shot.  

The Wyrd Siblings Soren and Claudia

one step to the side - Soren and Claudia tell each other everything - and their Dad doesn’t know what’s hit him. Drama. Soren and Claudia mount a rescue mission, a real one. And possibly start an insurrection on the way. I really love the tone of this story, the writing is well done and fits the characters and setting well. WIP, ongoing.