#maybe callum already got laid

[tategaminu]

I keep wondering how Reddit will react at future rayllum children like we know their view on female characters so Rayla having kids will make her even worse but what about Callum? Will they be happy because he got laid or jealous because they will never get laid themselves?

[kadwrites]

office scandal | T.S

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summary ; polly takes you with her to run an errand.

warnings ; arranged marriage trope, bad writing?!! , typos maybe (english isn't my first language)

a/n ; i almost lost my mind writing this. hopefully the accents are better and polly is well portrayed? lmk what you think <3

_

you're still on your bed, your friends are on it too this time. madeline and fiona , are on either side of you, kneeling on your mattress.

"what do ya mean y're gettin' married ?" madeline looks at you with a crooked smile, she thinks you're messing with her.

fiona is just staring at you with her head tilted

"i mean i am to be wed, betrothed, spoken for,"

"okay stop." fiona puts a hand up , "when did ya decide to do that? i thought ya were waitin' to get swept off yer feet"

you sigh, leaning back and letting the back of your head hit the bed frame "it just ... 'appened..."

madeline and fiona look at eachother before looking at you

"what are ya not tellin' us?"

"yeah , what are ya hidin' ?"

you look at them both, you contemplate telling them. you haven't really spoken about this whole ordeal to anyone , not really. and its been a week and a half already

"i um" your eyes drop to your hands "my parents chose 'im for me"

"yer parents?" fiona asks with a raised brow "and how exactly did they convince ya to do that?"

"its a long story" you wave a dismissive hand

"so ya know who he is?" madeline copies fiona, tilting her head too "do we know 'im as well?"

"i think everyone in birmingham knows 'im" you mutter under your breath

"who the fuck are ya marryin'?the king of england?"

you just stare at them, you lick your lips "ya got to keep yer knickers intact."

they both nod,

"its thomas shelby"

"what?" fiona's face drops , her voice does too.

madeline just snorts a laugh and then then goes quiet and just looks at you, "y're jokin' right?"

you take a deep breath "no , i am not jokin' "

"what do ya mean y're marryin' thomas shelby?" madeline gets closer to you "how?"

"i don't know..." just look back at them, your voice soft too.

"do ya want this?" madeline asks again

"it's complicated really..."

"no its not, ya either do or ya don't" fiona's hands grab yours "do ya not want this?"

you lick your lips, you take a moment to think , howare you going to even phrase this "i do,"

"ya do know who he is right?" madeline stares at you with a confused look "he isn't just any man"

"i know who he is..." you sigh

"then how are ya willing to marry 'im?" fiona never spoke so seriously before

"i 'ave my reasons"

"i hope that they're good enough for ya to put yourself through this" madeline chimes in again

you just close your eyes and let yourself plop back against the mattress, fiona and madeline share another look.

" 'ave you seen 'im?" madeline laid next to you

"yeah" you say with a chuckle , your mind flashing images of him on the sofa.

"is he really a dish?"

madeline smacks fiona on her arm and fiona rubs it with a frown "what! ya were thinkin' that too!"

you roll your eyes, but a small smile plays at your lips "he isn't bad lookin' i suppose."

madeline looks at you with a raised brow

"fine, he's a dish, happy?" you mumble , as if it pained you to admit it

"at least one of us will be fuckin' someone attractive"

"i thought ya liked callum" madeline frowns

"i love ya madeline i do, but callum isn't exactly a sight for the sore eyes"

"when's the weddin'?"

you look at madeline "i dont know , we 'ave yet to speak about that"

"i bet it's gonna be grand , ey?" fiona wiggles her brows

"well if i'm marryin' one of the wealthiest man in birmingham i might as well make at an occasion"

"wait , did you 'ave an engagement party already?" madeline asks, with a gasp and a hand on her chest

"if i did, ya would've been there."

"he has a son , ya know" fiona's voice goes back to its soft tone

you hum and nod "he told me about 'im"

"he did?" madeline asks with a smile

"what did he say?"

"that he wants a wife that can take care of 'im,"

"won't be long till you start poppin' out babies too" fiona mumbles

"whats that supposed to mean?" you ask with a chuckle

"with a husband this good lookin'? i give ya three months, and ya'll have a little one in that belly"

"don't speak that into existence!"

"i mean..." madeline says with a smirk "look at celest, she got pregnant with sarah , what? 4 or 5 months after she got married?"

"please don't open this topic of conversation" you beg as you rub your hand over your face "im stressed as it is."

all the of you turn to look at the door when you hear is open and celest's head peaks in "polly gray is here"

madeline and fiona turn to look at eachother then at you

"why?"

"i don't know but she's waitin' for ya" celest shrugs

"i'll be right there" you get off the bed and open the doors to your closet, looking for something to wear

"polly gray ? she's the shelbys aunt isnt she?"

"what does she want with ya?"

you change your clothes in a hurry, mind racing with possibilities "im not sure" you just mumble as you put on your blouse.

they watch you as you fix your hair and then go downstairs.

"mrs gray" you say with a polite smile as you walk into the living room "to what do i owe the pleasure"

she looks at you with a look thats eerily similar to her nephew's,and you try to not turn and walk back up the stairs

"we 'ave some business to attend to"

"we do?" your brows furrow "at this time?" it was 6 in the evening after all.

"yes"

"okay." you try not to snap your own neck at that response.

you get into her car as she drives, you two sitting in awkward silence "where are we goin' ?"

she glances at you before glancing back at the road and you just don't ask again but then you see your destination, shelby company limited and you think you might just not get out of that car but you do. your heels click against the floor when you walk through the dark halls.

there aren't many people there considering the work day has already ended, but you see a woman. she's young, around your age maybe. and she greets polly, completely ignoring you but you chalk it up to maybe the fact that it's polly gray is standing next to you.

"good evenin' , mrs gray" her voice is almost sickly sweet

"do you know who this is?" she asks her, nodding at you.

she looks you up and down and then shakes her head "nah, i can't say i do."

"she's tommy shelby's fiancé."

"i didn't know he was engaged" her lashes flutter and her lips twitch as she tries to maintain her smile.

"ya do now , don't ya?" polly stares that woman down "an' i hope it doesn't escape yer mind"

you just watch as the color drains out of her face as she excuses herself and scurries back to her work.

"what the fuck was that about?" it escapes your mouth before you even think, polly turns to you "that poor girl"

"in a place like this , ya either put yer fucking foot down and let everyone know what yer place is before they decide for themselves." her voice is stern, its firm and it makes you stand straighter "an' that poor girl wants to fuck yer fiancée"

"what?" your voice is squeaky, its high pitched. "how could you possibly know that?"

"anyone with eyes can fuckin' see that."

"i.." your words die when you look at her and you realize, she's helping you. "why are ya doin' this for me?"

"i know ya might not had the control that ya wanted over who yer husband is" her tone doesn't change when she speaks "so i'll give ya one piece of advice, ya can't marry tommy if ya don't 'ave a backbone. it'll be easier for ya to kill yerself than to live with 'im."

you know polly, but not well. she and your father knew eachother as children , your father is part gypsy himself. you remember meeting her a handful of times as a child but you were always too scared to talk to her for very long.

ironically, your mother didn't like the lifestyle her nephews led, she didn't want her children to be involved in it so you didn't get to see polly much throughout your life.

but you do remember one thing vividly and its her telling you to bite your brother back whenever he bothered you "or ya'll just show 'im that he can treat ya like that for the rest of yer life, ya dont want that now do ya?" . and you did do just that when abraham tugged on your braids a mere 10 minutes later, and polly winked at you , as she sipped her tea and you just stood there smiling proudly even though your mother was yelling at you for making your brother cry.

when you hear another pair of steps walking towards you, you both turn to see tommy. he's in his usual getup sans the jacket, a cigarette hanging from his lip and his glasses are on , his hands in his pocket.

"are ya done terrorizin' my secretary?"

polly just looks at him and walks past him "i'll leave ya two to it then."

and you were left there with him, blinking at that interaction.

"terrorizin' ? thats a bit of an exaggeration"

_

@tardisloverz , @optimisticsandwichgladiator

[minimitchell]

this is 100% inspired by this post by @leximitchells and the fact that we didn’t get to see ben and callum’s private moment with lola so i just had to write it myself.

.

“I thought working here would make this easier but it ain’t. I guess it’s different when it’s someone you know.”

They’re both standing at the threshold to the chapel; feet not yet brave enough to carry them over it. The door is wide open and only one step would take them into the little room but neither can bring themself to take it.

The ornate wooden coffin is laid out in the middle of the room; its pristine white and golden interior fabric standing out against the dark woods and hues of the surroundings. It’s beautiful, Callum has to admit, and a little extravagant maybe - a lot like Lola herself - with the delicate carvings and etchings.

And the brightly colored messages all over it.

It seems like quite a few friends and neighbors have paid their respects already and left their last wishes, judging by the array of messages left all over the white wood. There’s a glass with different colored markers to the side, along with a little sign telling the people they’re welcome to leave a message for Lola if they feel like it.

It’s a wonderful idea even if Callum racked his brain this entire weekend trying to decide what to write.

Nothing felt big enough for Lola. Nothing he could write felt worthy enough of the person he got to call his friend these last few years. Nothing can quite encapsulate what she meant, what she still means, to him. How do you break down so much love and adoration into two or three sentences?

Much to his surprise, Ben is the one who breaks the standstill and takes the first steps into the room, even if they’re still timid.

“Never gets easier.”

Ben hasn’t said much about it but Callum knows this is bringing back awful memories for him. He knows perfectly well that the last time Ben said goodbye to a loved one in here it was his brother and before that it was Paul. He knows it’s hard for Ben to do this. It’s hard for all of them.

Callum lets Ben take the first few steps towards the casket alone, only just following him over the threshold and into the room. One of Ben’s hands glides over the smooth wood; fingertips dipping into the indents that make up Lola’s name on the side. His eyes are jumping over the messages that have already been left but he doesn’t seem to pause on them long enough to read them.

He follows Ben’s movements with rapt attention, giving him the space he needs but still making sure he’s there if it gets too much for him. Ever the silent support they all need right now. He watches on as Ben pauses, his gaze locked on Lola’s motionless body and her ashen face. It looks like she’s simply sleeping peacefully, not gone forever, and Callum would probably be more spooked by the view if he hadn’t spent so long working with the dead.

Eventually, Ben lets out a quiet breath and seems to emerge from his thoughts, grabbing two markers and turning to Callum to hold one of them out for him. There’s a sad smile on his face and Callum can’t help but reciprocate it.

It hurts, being in here and saying another goodbye like this, but it hurts a bit less with Ben by his side to share the pain.

“What do we even write?”

“Whatever you want. What you want her to know. What you’re thankful for. What you’ll miss about her. Anything is good.”

Callum takes the marker from Ben, squeezing his shoulder as he walks around him to find a good spot for his own message. He’s still nowhere closer to figuring out what to write but maybe writing from the heart is the way to go. It has always worked for him in the past. 

Ben seems to take another minute to think before he uncaps the pen and starts to write; eyebrows pinched together in a way he always looks when he’s concentrating on something. Callum takes it as his cue to write his own thoughts down, keeping it short but heartfelt. 

He’s not going to read Ben’s message. They promised each other beforehand that their last words would be theirs. There’s no need to share them with each other; they just need to share them with Lola.

“I could thank her for so much I’d cover the entire thing, you know. And then she’d tell me off for it and not leaving enough space for the rest to tell her how great she was.”

“She was good at that, wasn’t she? Telling us off.”

Callum walks back towards the glass holding all the pens, dropping his marker back into the fold of them before facing Ben again. It looks like he adds a little X to the end of his message, looking it over for a moment before he must decide he’s happy with the result. He joins Callum on the other side, falling into his side when Callum opens his arm in silent invitation, both of them regarding Lola in her final resting place.

“You kidding? She was the queen of no nonsense. The amount of times she washed my head after something I did. Or banging our heads together when we were too stubborn for our own good.”

“I reckon we never even would’ve gone on a date if it weren’t for her convincing us to go for it. Always meddling for our benefit.”

He can feel Ben chuckle against his chest, probably remembering all the times she talked one or both of them around after they had a barney. From that first wobble after their first date, to the countless little arguments they had while living with each other at Phil’s all the way to her attempts to get them back together when they were broken up last year. Lola had always been one of their biggest cheerleaders and Callum is endlessly thankful for everything she’d done for them over the years. 

She had embraced him with open arms, had welcomed him into her family and trusted him with her daughter from the off. She’d loved him for him and not just because he became Ben’s partner and Callum is going to miss her terribly.

“She would’ve found a way to get us together. You were her favorite from the moment she met you. She loved you.”

“She loved you too.”

The words are more serious as they tumble out of Callum’s mouth; the playful tone from before replaced by the need to remind him that Lola cared for him as well. That they were a family too. That they had a unique connection with each other; a special bond. No matter how much they bickered or disagreed, they always had each other’s backs.

Ben looks up at him to meet his eyes. There are unshed tears brimming in them, gathering at the bottom of Ben’s icy blue gaze. Callum rests his hand just under them; his thumb catching the tears the second they spill onto Ben’s skin. He presses a gentle kiss to Ben’s forehead and closes his eyes when Be squeezes his side in response, both of them supporting the other without a word spoken.

“Bye, Lo. Rest easy, gorgeous girl.”

“We love you, Lo. Always.”

They spend a long moment just looking at the coffin; over the colorful messages and the face of their friend. Their hands find each other between their bodies, slotting together effortlessly with the ease of well-practiced movements, and squeeze gently before holding on tightly.

It hurts, yeah, and it will hurt for a long while yet. Possibly forever. But it hurts a lot less when they have each other.

[spnae]

Chapter 24 Dance Magic

When they got to the club Callum was chatting with the bouncer at the door, “Oi, Marcus, there’s my Lass and her lot now, want you to meet ‘em,” Callum looked a little surprised when he noticed the tall dark haired vampire with them, “Oi, Angel, didn’t expect you here. Thought Faith said you were more of a quiet night in sort.”

“Just being social. Owed Faith a favor.”

Callum quickly introduced them all to Marcus, a powerfully built man with a dark complexion, nearly as tall as Callum. “Faith love, this is the friend I mentioned. The one who helped Angus hold me back. He’s a good friend.”

“I got one of those too,” she said, hooking a thumb towards Angel who was making a feeble attempt at looking friendly.

Callum pulled her in for a quick kiss, “What do ya say Marcus?”

“Oh go on then, just because you got a lady with a crew,” he winked and waved them through with an easy grin, “Have a good time Ross. Oh, ‘fore I forget; We still on for that thing at your brothers place next weekend?”

“Sure thing,” Callum answered as he pulled Faith in close to him and through into the club. He bent low to her ear, “That sweet little number for me?” he asked as he took in the strappy backless black dress she had worn with Ursula’s boots.

“What do you think?”

“I think I’m going to need you to come back to my flat tonight.”

“Already planning on it. No bra.”

“I like it,” Callum smiled as they made their way to the bar, “Oi, Eddie!” He called to the bartender.

Eddie, as it turned out, was a bombshell with cotton-candy-pink hair that had been pulled back in a curly half ponytail. She wore a shimmering pink contouring dress that matched her hair. A rose vine tattoo ran the length of her right arm and more roses graced her collarbone. Her face split into a sunny smile when she saw him, “Ross! Oh my God Ross! It’s been too long! Blimey, I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“Been busy, Doll-face. Brought someone here I want you to meet. Eddie, this beautiful woman here is Faith. Faith, this is Eddie. Gemma‘s other best friend,” he said with a grin aimed at Eddie.

Eddie put a hand out to Faith, “Hey there, must be pretty special if he’s bringing you in here. Have you met Gemma yet?”

“No, I haven't had a chance to meet her yet. I know her mom. She’s sort of dating my eh- Cousin’s stepdad.”

“Bet that makes for some interesting double dates.”

“Don’t think that’s gonna be a problem,” Callum interjected, “we’re actually out with her people tonight. Brought her cousin and her bloke and Faith’s best-mate,” Callum looked around to see where they had gotten to and saw them only a few feet away. Angel sulking with his hands in his pockets watching as Spike pulled Buffy close. She had her back pressed against him as they rocked half-heartedly to the music thumping through the club.

“There they are, Lass. Can you pull ‘em over; they can meet Eddie. In my experience it’s always good to be friendly with the bartender.”

Eddie winked, “Been a sweet talker since we were in nappies.”

“Oh go on, Eddie. Five beers,” he said as he glanced up at Faith on her way over to the others.

Faith was back in seconds with Buffy pulling Spike along with her with a look of farrell amusement on his face. Angel followed looking like he would rather be anywhere but in a crowd of people.

Faith got close to Buffy so she could talk in her ear, “I’m surprised Tall-dark-and-gloomy even came. What the hell is he doing?”

“Hell if I know. I thought you were going to work on him. Maybe Spike laid into him again or something. I don’t know, it would be the second time in less than two days. I kind of can’t wait until he leaves.”

“Damn, B, where was that attitude before you shoved a knife in my gut?”

Buffy rolled her eyes, “Surprises me too.”

“Callum has a friend he wants you to meet.”

“Bubblegum Barbie?”

“I play nice with your friends.”

“I’m nice. And since when did you have friends you haven’t tried to kill?”

“Ok so maybe I’m socially challenged. Doesn’t mean I can’t try.”

As they reached the bar Faith sidled up next to Callum letting him wrap a hand around her hip. Spike took a seat on a barstool and pulled Buffy onto his lap. Buffy wrapped her arm around his neck making it a mutually possessive gesture.

Angel accepted a beer from Callum looking and feeling like the very definition of a fifth wheel. It took him a moment to realize Callum had been introducing them all to the perky pink haired woman behind the bar.

“I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?” He pointed to his ear as if he couldn’t hear over the noise instead of not paying attention.

It worked because she smiled brightly as she extended her hand to Angel, “I’m Edwina, everyone just calls me ‘Eddie’.”

“Angel.”

“That’s an unusual name.”

“I get that a lot.”

She took her hand back a little reluctantly, “Something wrong with the beer?”

Angel looked at it, “Oh I’m sure it’s fine. Beer’s not really my thing.”

“Pass it here, Peaches,” Spike said loudly over the din, he turned towards Eddie, “Two bourbons on the rocks for me and my mate, love. Cal? Faith? Something stronger?”

“I’ll stick to beer thanks,” Callum replied.

“I’ll take one,” Faith answered, “B? You drinking more than beer?”

“I’m alright. I really just want to dance.”

“Better make mine neat then, Eddie,” Spike said.

Eddie poured the drinks. Spike slapped some money on the counter, “Keep the change, love.” Spike accepted his drink and downed it in one long pull and patted Buffy on the hip indicating she should get off his lap, “The lady wishes to dance, then dance the lady shall.”

Angel watched a moment as Spike led Buffy to the floor and disappeared into the crowd.

“Bloody poet,” Callum snorted good-naturedly, “Makes the rest of us look like Neanderthals.”

“Never cared for poetry myself,” Eddie said, winking at Angel before she left to tend to other customers.

Angel laughed a little bitterly, “I haven't read any of his stuff in years. Didn’t think he advertised that about him.”

“He doesn’t. I guess he started writing again in LA,” Faith paused, taking a sip of her drink, “So what really made you come out tonight?” Faith asked.

“Giles sort of kicked me out for the night. I guess he thought things were going to take longer with the Minch thing and he invited his lady-friend over. I ahh didn’t really know what else to do. It was just weird, he had on Pink Floyd and everyone is always telling me to lighten up… So… I thought I’d give it a try,” he huffed.

Faith raised an eyebrow, “Go, Giles.”

Callum finished his drink and squeezed Faith’s side, “Care to dance, Lass?”

“What do you say Angel? I can take two on one,” she winked.

That actually got a laugh out of Angel, “Yeah, I can give it a try. I’m definitely not much of a dancer.”

“Dude, I figured,” she turned to Callum, “You mind, Babe?”

“Threesomes on the dance floor are fine, I draw the line at the bedroom,” he said as he moved one broad hand to her stomach, pulling her back into him. Then he relaxed his hand back down to her hip.

“Yeah you really don’t have to worry about that.”

“Spike said you had a thing for blondes,” Callum smirked.

“I’m gonna—“ Angel grumbled.

Faith gripped Callum’s hand where it rested on her hip then extended a hand towards Angel pulling them both to the dance floor. She kept herself pressed against Callum grinding against him while simultaneously trying to get Angel to show a little interest in dancing.

“Oh come on Angel, loosen up. Not like we’re asking you to get your happy on, just have some fun,” she said as she pulled him up closer and moved her hips against Callum.

Angel smiled a little at his friend. Seeing her this happy and relaxed gave him a sense of pride for not giving up on her. She had really come a long way since prison. With that thought Angel attempted a little more than just simply swaying to the music. Faith concealed a laugh by turning towards Callum a moment before turning back to face Angel. She caught sight of Buffy and Spike just a few feet away behind Angel. They were pressed together tightly, clearly enjoying each other. Faith knew better than to stare so she grabbed Angel’s hands, placing them on her waist as she turned to face Callum with a sultry look in her eyes. The message was clear; yes she was letting, or making, Angel touch her but she was saving it all just for him. Callum bent down to kiss Faith. His lips and tongue demanded more of her and she could feel him growing hard under his pants. Angel started to draw away, but Faith clutched at his hand holding it in place while she ran her other hand to the nape of Callum’s neck. She was enjoying this.

***********************

The music shifted and Spike scoffed, “Damn wankers can’t come up with anything original. Have to rehash the oldies.”

“What are you talking about?” Buffy felt like she had to practically yell over the music.

Spike tapped his temple with two fingers and Buffy nodded. I knew this would come in handy. Spike grinned.

What were you talking about?

Oh, that. It’s just this song. This mix. It’s layered on top of another song. Used to be real popular at balls and what not.

Like when you were alive?

Exactly.

Wasn’t that all like piano and harpsichord and stuff?

Spike gave her an exasperated look, It’s under all the techno drivel. It’s there. Just listen. Think I can remember the dance that went along with it too. He thought as he pushed her away slightly and repositioned his hands. He took one of her hands in his and placed his other on her back. Just follow my lead.

Spike started moving Buffy along, guiding her in a waltz. They didn’t even notice when people on the dance floor started to part for them. Suddenly Buffy felt herself pulled into their mind-scape. They were in a brightly lit ballroom. Buffy glanced down at herself and noticed she was dressed in an impossibly beautiful green silk gown. It was exactly the same shade as the halter top she had on. She was dancing with Spike. Or rather William. His hair was darker and longer and he was dressed very differently in formal wear. His blue eyes were the same, except they peered out at her from behind a pair of glasses. Despite the changes, she recognised him easily. She knew without having to think about it that this was the man he had been before meeting Drusilla. Buffy felt herself smiling at the man she had fallen in love with.

What are you doing? She asked.

Sharing a memory of sorts, I think. I just sort of cobbled this together. Does it bother you?

Heck no! I sort of love seeing you like this. Is this what you really looked like, before?

A desperate, poncy little dandy, mama’s boy? Yes, Love, it is. In all my pathetic glory.

Don’t do that. That’s so not what I see when I see you like this.

And what exactly do you see?

Sexy, in a bookish kinda way.

Bookish yes, dunno about sexy.

I do. This is definitely hot.

The two of them spun around the dance floor enjoying the subtle erotic push and pull laced through the movements of the dance. After what seemed like a long time, the song within the song ended and the two of them came out of the shared vision and back to the dance floor. They pressed back together, easily moving to the music.

Buffy looked up into Spike’s eyes, still the same cool blue. He was watching her as she twisted this way and that, rubbing against him every chance she got. Spike dipped his head while she pressed her back to him firmly, kissing her neck.

I’m loving this, I should have taken you dancing sooner, he thought.

Didn’t we dance at The Bronze?

Not sure about dancing, definitely snogged a few times. Fought a lot. There was that time on the balcony, I kinda liked that.

Hummm… not so much, that was demeaning.

I know that now. I am sorry about that bit. But it was also pretty sodding exhilarating wasn’t it? If memory serves, you barely objected. Could have objected. Quite strongly in fact. Pretty sure I only had to do a little something like this… In the club Spike’s hands never left her waist. However, in her mind, Buffy could suddenly feel the delicious sensation of his hands working up her thighs under her skirt and over to her hot center. She shuddered involuntarily, making him grin. He shifted his gaze to the floor above them and tapped her on the shoulder. Could give it another go, more expeditionary and less demeaning this time?

Buffy shook her head, Not without the duster. Let’s save that for later. Like home later. I’m having fun.

Spike just shrugged and leaned down to kiss her. Whatever the lady likes. Noticed you didn’t say anything about our little mind game.

Buffy gasped a little as his phantom hands caressed her and slipped inside of her. Pleasuring her. On the dance floor Spike pressed his knee between her thighs, allowing her to grind on him if she wished. She did. Buffy continued to dance, moving her hips and pressing into him. She could feel his erection waiting for her. Then suddenly out of nowhere, any inhibitions they had still been holding on to simply melted away. Like dirt slipping away under a hot shower. Suddenly Buffy couldn’t remember why having sex right there on the dance floor was such a bad idea.

Oh God, William, I think…

I feel you, Pet. You’re so beautiful when you’re all hot for me. I could never get enough of you. Not ever. I need you.

Their lips met, hungry for each other. Their hands suddenly groping feverishly. Just then someone bumped into Buffy pushing her into Spike. They staggered a little and the spell was broken. They both crashed back to reality as they were brought back to their senses and they were on high alert.

Spike ran a hand across the back of his neck in agitation, You feel that, Love?

You mean whatever just made me want to say ‘screw it’ and do the horizontal tango right here in a crowd of people not caring that you don’t even have your long coat on to hide it?

That’d be it. I could have done it too. That was intense. Thought it was just us. This connection thing getting the better of us, you know, but look around. It’s definitely not just us.

He was right, everywhere they looked people had started groping and feeling, grinding and rubbing. Way more than usual in a place like this. Buffy looked to see who had bumped into them but only saw another couple that looked totally engrossed in each other.

Give it a little longer and it’ll all turn into one big orgy.

Oh God, Angel!

Angelus…

They looked around for their friends, they were only a few feet away and Faith looked like she was having the time of her life pressed between Callum and Angel. She was facing Callum and had one leg wrapped firmly around him. Angel pressed in close behind Faith holding her in place with one hand on her stomach, grinding against her backside, she had no idea where his other hand was. Buffy suddenly realized that Callum’s hands mirrored Angel’s and she couldn’t see his other hand either. However, Faith for her part, was desperately trying to free him from the confines of his pants.

Humm yeah, Babe, I definitely don’t want to watch that.

No pet names just now alright?

Ehhh… Why? Are you seriously complaining?

No, trying to keep it in my pants.

I’m more worried about Callum and Angel right now.

Right, you are. Alright, I got this. Spike smirked as he took two long strides towards the trio and punched Angel in the side of the jaw. Angel staggered back from Faith shaking his head with a hand to his jaw.

“What the hell was that, Spike?”

Spike raised his eyebrows and looked around the club exasperated, “You’re welcome, you bloody wanker. She’s your friend, you great lumbering pillock!”

Angel’s eyes flickered and his gaze fell on Faith where she was still fairly engrossed in Callum. The punch had interrupted them enough that she had stopped trying to open his pants. But they were still kissing with both sets of hands now thankfully visible. Angel shot an arm out pulling Faith back towards him forcefully. He vamped and held her in front of him until she snapped out of it and punched him in the face.

Angel let his face melt back into place and felt his jaw on the other side. “What did you do that for, you ass!” She yelled at him over the music.

“There’s some kind of a spell or something going on here.”

“Oh hell,” she grumbled and looked over at Callum who was still staring at Angel. “First vamp face,” she explained.

“Seriously? What about Spike?”

“Don’t think they took that step in their relationship,” Faith scoffed. “Cal! Snap out of it!”

“What just— what was that?“

“Told you he was a vampire, that’s what they look like when they’re not all human-y.”

“Humm… yeah… ok…”

“Looks like we got another mystery, gang,” Buffy said in a falsely upbeat tone.

“My money is on the bloody DJ.”

Angel turned to Spike, “What makes you say that?”

“That last song or bit of the mix or whatever the bloody hell this rot is. It was built on top of an old ditty.”

“How old?”

“A bit older than my corpse.”

“We danced to it,” Buffy interjected, “There was an old dance that went along with it. Spike and I danced to it.”

Angel narrowed his eyes looking at Spike, “How do you remember this stuff?”

Spike shrugged, “I don’t know. You got that whole photographic memory thing; I got this recall thing for music and such. I don’t tend to question it much.”

“Drusilla always loved to dance.”

“That she did,” Spike agreed.

“You were always the better dancer.”

“What happened to you? You used to be able to at least move your feet. I know Darla took you out enough times.”

“Ballroom is different than this— whatever this is…”

Buffy rolled her eyes between the two of them “Okay, come on guys can we get back on track? You two can reminisce about the good all days some other time. Look at these people. We don’t get something figured out pretty soon, it’s going to get super awkward in here. And after Paris I am so not interested in seeing a whole club full of that.”

“What the hell happened in Paris?” Angel asked, confused.

“Interrupted that demon while he was getting his rocks off. It sort of left a mark.”

“Glad I missed that one.”

“I’d take that over the biggest orgy in history,” Faith said, raising an eyebrow.

“Not the biggest, might be in the top ten,” Angel said absently looking around.

“You know Angel, this sort of reminds me of that time in—“ Spike stopped abruptly at the looks Angel and Buffy gave him, “What? We were evil; not like that sort of thing didn’t— Oh fine, how do we stop it?”

“Spike, you take out the DJ. Shut down the music. Faith, and I are going rabbit hunting. Angel, you go with Callum, see if Eddie or the bouncer guy know anything that could help. Get people cleared out as best as you can.”

Spike didn’t wait. He let out a growl and hurled himself up towards the DJ, ripping out cords with a flourish. The lights on the podium died first. Spike pulled out a few more cords and the music stopped.

The DJ, a thin man with a pinched face and shoulder length greasy black hair, snapped his head up to look at Spike, “What’s your problem, you nutter!” he yelled.

Spike grabbed the DJ by the front of his shirt and looked out over the dance floor. He could see Buffy and Faith moving on the outer edge of the bewildered crowd. Buffy caught his eye and he shook his head. He hadn’t seen anyone trying to bolt.

Spike held onto the DJ, “It was the song wasn’t it?”

“I— I—“ he sputtered.

“The one with the Victorian Era ditty worked in. Am I right?”

“I— humm, I— yeah! Yeah it was. Don’t hurt me man!”

Spike snarled as he threw him down into a chair just as Buffy and Faith joined them. Now it was Buffy’s turn, “Alright Mr. DJ, sing. What did you do to these people?”

“I— nothing. Nothing, they didn’t really want to do. I just wanted to get the party really pumping and guarantee I’d get a steady gig at the club.”

“You did this for a gig?” Faith asked.

“I’m more interested in the how. That song packed a punch,” Buffy pointed out towards the crowd of still bewildered people, some had started to leave while others went up to the bar. Several couples didn’t seem to realize the music had stopped. More likely they just didn’t care. “Look at these people! This wasn’t just some gig.”

“I’m thinking, some sort of a lust spell. You don’t strike me as the mojo sort. Where’d you get it? And what does that song have to do with it?”

“I got it from some chick. I was at the bar and—“

“If you say you made a wish, so help me—“

“How did you know?”

Buffy groaned and turned to Spike, “The only two I knew are gone now. I guess we got a new player.”

“Vengeance demons are a dime-a-dozen and they’re not the only ones that deal in wishes, Love.”

Buffy turned back to the DJ, “What was the wish?”

“I wished I had something to work into the beat that would really let people lose themselves in the music and have a good time. I wanted something to help me book gigs.”

“And what you got was something that made everyone forget about their sexual inhibitions… you magically roofied everyone in the club!” Spike snarled, his eyes turning yellow with anger.

Buffy laid a hand gently on Spike’s chest, “I got this, Honey”, she felt a low rumble tear through his chest, “Spike, Babe, I got this.”

Spike took a deep breath, making a show of calming down, “Right, Love, you’re right.”

“Doesn’t sound super vengeance-y does it?” Buffy asked Spike.

“Depends.”

She turned back to the DJ, “Were you angry at someone? Maybe an old employer?”

“I’d just lost my last steady gig. They told me my set lacked passion.”

“And there it is!” Buffy said.

“I’d like to see someone say my art lacks passion now,” he grinned.

“Oh I can! Easy. That little tune you got buried in there isn’t anything new. A bit cheeky, by Victorian standards, which don’t say much. It was the spell worked into it that did all this,” he gestured around the room.

“I don’t see what the big deal is, they’re all adults they knew what they were doing.”

Faith scoffed, “Oh damn Buff, if you don’t punch him I will.”

Buffy shrugged a shoulder in response and Faith punched him in the mouth, “Pig! That thing made my best friend stick his hand up my dress, you ass!”

“Oww! Look, this lady just gave me the song. I laid it in. I told you everything I know.”

Buffy’s eyebrows raised but she didn’t say anything to Faith. Instead she addressed the sniveling man in front of her, “Where’d you meet this lady?”

“Eh… about two weeks ago when I was down in London. I just came up here to look for work and found this gig.”

“So this is the first time you’ve used it?”

“Yeah, honest.”

Buffy nodded, “Faith go see what Callum and Angel turned up. If no one got hurt, and no lasting damage, I think we can let this creep go. There’s not much we can do about the demon now if she was in London that long ago,” Buffy huffed.

Faith nodded and headed towards the bar. Buffy turned to Spike, “Can you get this guy to give up the song and make sure it won’t be used again, Babe?”

Spike gave her a slow grin, “Be my pleasure, Pet. What are you going to do?”

“Take a look around, kick people out. The usual.”

“Have fun. Let me know when I can cut this idiot loose.”

The DJ leered at Buffy as she walked away and then looked up at Spike, “You always take orders from the little woman?”

Spike slid into his game face and growled, “I do when she’s right.”

Spike slammed a hand onto the guy’s chair. The DJ looked up nervously at Spike, “I ahh, I— it’s on there,” he pointed to the jump drive sticking out of a laptop with a shaking hand.

“This the only copy?”

He nodded, “H-how’d you pick that out any- anyway?”

“Exceptionally good hearing mate, been around a while and I’m a music lover,” he said, taking the jump drive and crushing it under his boot. The DJ squealed in dismay and sat back crestfallen.

Spike let his demon face melt back into his human form and considered the sniveling wimp in front of him, “Word of advice? Find a muse and create your own sodding stuff. Skip all this tweaking crap. And don’t make wishes around people you just met!”

“Ehh, sure… I’ll just, I’ll do that…” he frowned.

Spike waited until Buffy came back from making rounds, “What’s the damage, Pet?”

“Doesn’t look like anything too serious. Fortunately it looks like our Mix-master here was right about one thing. It was a little more than giving everyone a drink or two but less than drugging them. Even the couple I had to separate upstairs turned out to be newlyweds… that was seriously awkward.”

“You monster you,” Spike chuckled.

“I couldn’t even blame them for being pissed at me.”

“What about Bubblegum-Barbie?”

“Ahhh yeah, Callum found her behind the bar with Marcus… he said it was probably better if we just left them,” Buffy’s cheeks went pink.

“And that would be why exactly?”

“Turns out those two have been trying to get pregnant for a while now… I guess she just started fertility treatments.”

“What?”

“According to Callum they’ve been having trouble conceiving… he ah he thought it might be better to just let them go…”

“They’re married?”

“Ehh, I guess,” she shrugged.

“Would not have called that one… course I can barely make you out in all this mess.”

“Freaking vampires,” she grumbled, rolling her eyes.

***************************

A/N: I had an idea to do a “choose your adventure” kind of thing. Please vote for your choice(s) in the comments. I can post one or all of them but I’d love to hear your thoughts!

Four choices: Two options are smut heavy fun, one smut-lite and one is just a fun little smut-free option.

1. Giles and Zara

2. Angel— A Night Out

3. Spike and Buffy

4. Faith and Callum

[laurenkmyers]

smash therapy

a coda for this evenings ep (25/02/2021)

prompt: callum gets ben to let his aggression out, smashing something at the arches or something.. maybe he gets just a little turned on by it...

for @minimitchell I hope this is what you wanted!

“Ben, will you just calm down, yeah?”

“Calm down? Calm down?!” Ben spits, absolutely raging as he paces back and forth in the Arches, running his hands through his already messy hair. He eventually stops, pointing back towards The Vic with a strong finger. “Because of that box dye blonde and her wannabe gangster boy toy we’ve just lost a shit tonne of money, Cal. I just wanna go back in there and smash his smug fucking face in.” Ben’s red face puffs out in anger, continuing to pace around the small space. He spots a solitary hammer laid out on the table and his fingers twitch to pick it up and storm back over there.

But luckily Callum knows exactly how he gets when he’s in a mood like this. He picks up the weapon himself before Ben can get to it and eyes it studiously.

“You’re mad, right?” Callum says randomly, and Ben scoffs at him, as if the past ten minutes haven’t happened.

“No shit, Sherlock.”

Callum rolls his eyes at the sarcasm. “Right, well, I’ve got a bit of a mad idea- if you’re up for it?” He says, tapping the hammer against the palm of his hand like some schmuck with a plan. It quietens the buzz in Ben’s ear slightly. His fiancés adorable idiocy will do that to a man.

Ben crosses his arms over his chest and nods for Callum to continue, his interest definitely piqued.

“Well, seeing as you can’t just go smashin’ people’s heads in without being arrested again, why don’t I take you somewhere you can get your anger out without hurting anyone?” He swings the hammer above his head, like some sort of ridiculous imitation of the hot blonde god man from that movie Callum forced him to watch the other night. Ben smiles despite himself, though the anger stills simmers in the pit of his stomach. He sighs loudly, hiding his face in both hands.

“I can’t just go swannin’ off right now, I’ve got to fix this mess and-”

“The deal is over, Ben!” Callum says, with a strict tone of authority in his voice that rumbles through his chest. It stirs something hot (definitely not anger this time) between Ben’s thighs, but before Ben can comment on it Callum continues talking, “You’re just gonna have to accept it and move on to the next dodgy deal. There’s always something else on the horizon. You’re a Mitchell, after all.”

Ben hears what Callum’s saying, but it still doesn’t help his current mood.

“You’ll be a Mitchell yourself soon enough.”

Callum smiles shyly, like the reminder of their upcoming nuptials is making him hot under the collar. Ben likes the different sides of Callum. He’s always so reserved in public, playing into the nice guy act that’s been laid at his feet. But Ben knows there’s a switch inside his man that when flipped, can turn from kind and sweet, to forceful and authoritative. He doesn’t see that side often, prefers his goofy sop too much, but every now and again Ben loves it when Callum takes control. He needs that Callum now, so he indulges whatever plan Callum has in store for them.

“Come on then, lover boy. What’s this mad idea of yours then?”

 ***                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  

They drive for about thirty minutes, give or take, out of town. Ben can’t tell where exactly Callum drives, but his man seems to know exactly where he’s going so he doesn’t question it.

Eventually they arrive, as the sun starts its descent for the evening making a pretty picture of gold and red in the sky. It distracts Ben enough that he doesn’t notice Callum has parked them up on the side of the road.

When they step out of the car Ben is still just as confused as ever before. He can’t see anything other than an old abandoned railway carriage and some scrap metal. There’s literally no one around for miles and barely even a streetlight in sight. He turns to look for Callum with a furrowed brow.

“Is this it?” He says, to which his man pops his head out from behind the boot of the car with a smirk and a double eyed wink and chucks him some safety goggles he must have nicked from the Arches. Ben is still none-the-wiser as he examines the goggles, like they’re about to sprout wings and take off.                      

Callum chuckles at him, and once he’s secured his own goggles onto his face he outstretches his hand for Ben to take. Ben follows suit with his own goggles and grips Callum’s hand in his.

“Come on.” Callum says pulling him along, still smiling his megawatt smile, which continually thaws away at the cracks in Ben’s ever diminishing anger.

Eventually they make it to the other side of the tracks where Ben spots a line of abandoned cars; some smashed to bits and others still intact, but mostly it’s all just junk that not even a mechanic as good as he is could salvage.

“Babe, are you gonna tell me why you’ve dragged me half an hour out of town to some abandoned railway track with cars you know full well ain’t worth anything?”

He watches Callum bend over (sneaking an eyeful of arse while he can) to see that he’s picked up what looks like a rusty crowbar, which he passes to Ben. He then takes out the hammer he’d stashed in his pocket from earlier, his weapon of choice apparently.

“Stuart and I used to come ‘ere when we was kids. Whenever things got rough at home he’d bring me here and we’d take our anger out on the cars instead. There’s loads more now, though. Not been in years.” Callum looks wistfully over at the cars for a minute, caught in a memory, before turning his full attentions to Ben. “If you want to smash something, take that,” He eyes the weapon now in Ben’s hand, “And smash some windows. It’s pretty therapeutic.”

It’s not the worst idea in the world, Ben thinks, but it’s not something he’d have chosen for himself. He’s willing to give it a go, though it does help when Kheerat’s smug voice rings through his ears, ‘oh, sorry- is this where I’m meant to be scared?’

Ben doesn’t know what comes over him after that, as the red mist descends. He can’t hold it in any more as he takes a deep swing at the nearest car. He screams into the force of it, taking pleasure in the way the window makes an almighty crack before shattering under the weight of the metal.

Ben takes a few more swings, getting more and more into it as he goes, not even realising that Callum is just standing by and watching his display of outrage.

After a few more swings, and some satisfying shatters he pulls back to catch his breath, glad for the quick reprieve. But as he does he senses Callum’s presence behind him, when suddenly he’s being spun, shoved and full body slammed into the framework of the car and Callum’s rough lips are crashing into his before he can even get a word in.

The adrenaline zapping through Ben’s veins forces him to push back into Callum’s body as he dexterously twists them so that Callum’s spine is now backed up into the car, crowbar long forgotten, as he paws at his fiancés clothes and attacks his neck with razor sharp teeth, latching on and creating a whopping great bruise just shy of his collar line, one Callum will be shyly explaining away for the next few days.

“Jesus, Cal-” Ben pants as he pulls back with a deep groan. “What’s gotten into you?”

Callum sinks further into the car and runs a shaky hand through his now floppy hair, panting against Ben as he persistently grinds against Ben’s thigh.

“You just looked so hot when you really got into it. I needed to get my hands on you.” He breathes out bashfully, a hint of pink lining his cheekbones and the tips of his ears.

“The bad boy thing really gets you all hot and bothered, dunnit?” Ben chokes out a dark chuckle, absolutely delighted, and not entirely surprised at the turn of events. “So this here, tonight, wasn’t really about me, was it? You just wanted to watch me unleash the beast, huh?”

Callum lets out a hot breath of laughter at the phrase, but he’s shaking his head in response.

“Bet you feel better now though, don’t ya?” Callum says, daring him to oppose.

And Ben lets that sink in. He really does feel better. The anger from earlier is completely wiped from his system. All he wants now is to take his horny fiancé home and show him how bad he can really be.

“Thanks, babe,” He says gratefully, “you always know what I need.” Ben kisses him softly before sneakily urging his thigh a little higher up Callum’s leg to emphasise the endgame in sight. He pulls back, “Now it’s my turn to give you what you need.”

They race each other back to the car and into the back seat.

All that can be seen in the lingering darkness of the evening, with not a streetlight in sight, is the silhouette of a bobbing head, and the not at all subtle rocking motion of a car.

A successful evening all round.

[dawniebb]

The Ones Left

So...as you might know, @healing-winston-pratt and I have this canon divergence where Winston and Callum live, but Genissa doesn’t (because we hate her), and Nova then starts living with Leroy and Winston in a house. A couple of days ago, I wrote a thing about it. It takes place after Leroy is released from prison and...yeah, there’s nothing more to it, my brain was just like “Bro, don’t you sometimes feel like...Leroy has f e e l i n g s?”

Idk if anyone’s going to read this lmao, but if somebody does: Hi! <3 I hope you like it <3 <3 <3

“Could you… take your shoes off? I just… mopped around here because the floor was so dirty. Of course, if you don’t want to there’s no need to… I kind of… made the place a little cozier for you to be comfortable so… “

This wasn’t his Winston, although Leroy had no idea why he thought he would be.

Winston hadn’t been his Winston even before all of this happened. When he saw him at the arena, he was already a different person.

He was… normal.

Healthy.

Sane.

He hadn’t mentioned a thing about it on their way home, but he didn’t have his makeup anymore. Again. Which meant the small dose of Agent N had worked.

Thank the odds.

“Leroy? “

His voice brought him back to reality, and Leroy shook his head, taking his shoes off and paying little attention to Winston’s little “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, like I said”.

But, despite his body language shoving the opposite, he did want to.

It seemed important.

Nova and Winston weren’t the cleanest people Leroy had met, but the place was neat. They had made it neat, because they knew Leroy would be released from prison today.

“Nova is… covering her shift. They called in for a last minute, emergency meeting and she got really mad but… she’ll try to be here earlier. It’s not like Adrian will stop her, you know? “

He knew. He just didn’t feel like speaking.

For being a house provided by the government, it was very nice.

Some questionable wallpapers here and there, but it was extremely nice, and big enough for all of them to live there.

Putting his hands on his pockets, Leroy started walking, barely getting close to the stairs, while Winston walked behind him, and just…staring.

“Uhm…The bedrooms are upstairs, and we already got yours sorted out, but you can change anything you don’t like… Also I have one shelf that I don’t use in mine, so you can have it if you like. I mean, I know you always have your… experiments around so… yeah. You may have it. If you want to.”

At this point, Leroy was already in the kitchen, where there was a pot with boiling water; there was also a salad, halfway finished, by the space next to the stove.

Winston, who seemed strangely nervous, took the pot out of the stove and then turned it off.

“This was Nova’s.” he cleared his throat. “It’s not Pasta Friday, but it’s… I guess… Leroy Wednesday, I don’t know. “

“Pasta Friday.”

“You see, we’re both busy sometimes. So we usually don’t cook… I mean, we do cook but sometimes it’s easier to just order pizza. So we decided to always cook on Fridays. She makes the pasta and I’m in charge of the dessert, which is usually mug brownies or cookies but anyway…”

Leroy felt something, but he wasn’t able to put his finger on what that something was.

He had never been apart from Nova for so long, if we didn’t count that time when Tala and David left the cathedral.

After that, somehow, she had always been there, and although she did have a close relationship with Winston for some time, she never acknowledged they were that close, and neither did him (But, back then, nobody ever knew what Winston was really thinking about anyway. Not even himself).

Nova had always been pretty secretive and quiet, mostly because they had raised her that way. Yet, it was usually clear which wagons she enjoyed the most.

Needless to say, she spent a lot of time in Leroy’s. She used to spend a lot of time in Winston’s too, when she was little.

But right now, they had been living together, just the two of them, for a year, while Leroy was in prison and, for what he could see, they had taken on their relationship where they had left it that many years ago, and that seemed to be working well for them, with their Pasta Friday… thing and their bad habit to spend too much money on pizza. Though, Leroy supposed, he wasn’t in the position to judge that. At least, not yet.

“Like I said, the bedrooms are upstairs and we have a bathroom at the back of this floor. The upper one, however, it’s smaller but it’s only Nova’s.”

“Nova has a bathroom.”

“She does.” For some reason, Winston seemed pretty excited about that, as he took out a dish casserole from the fridge and started putting it on the stove. “It was a sort of pantry, I guess… or just a random extra room, so I suggested we should turn it into a bathroom for her. She’s never have privacy in her life, you know? I figured she has the right to.”

Once again, he was right.

Back in the tunnels, everyone tried to respect each other’s space, but that didn’t mean they had some sort of privacy. The reason why that seemed to bug Winston so much had always been a mystery to Leroy, but now a lot of things made sense.

Not that he were willing to talk about it yet. It still felt like crossing a line. Maybe Winston and him were not that close.

Maybe he was just pretending to like him because Nova liked him. And maybe Nova was pretending to like him just because he had tried his best to be like the father who had been torn from her.

But sometimes one’s trying was not enough, and Nova didn’t owe him anything at all. Not that Leroy considered.

Even if she did, he wouldn’t have wanted her to pay him back anyway.

Having such a nosey lab partner, who wanted to know everything about anything had been fun.

Before her, nobody ever wanted to know.

Well…

Except Honey, when she was still in her 20s, which reminded him of something.

“Where’s…?”

And, fortunately, Leroy managed to stop himself in the middle of his sentence, coming to the realization.

Winston didn’t get the message immediately, which Leroy understood, because they were talking about the house. A question starting with “Where’s” could’ve basically meant anything.

“Where’s what, Leroy?”

Where’s what.

What.

Leroy remembered how those people would address her.

She was a Godforsaken woman after all, whose family didn’t want to have anything to do with her. And, back then, Nova was a minor.

A very angry and brokenhearted minor.

After 30 years of coming home to a place she was in, Leroy felt it was the right thing to do. Even as Hugh Everhart drove him there, Leroy still felt he was doing the right thing, like… the whatever thing he was. Like a friend. Like that…wide, yet dull everything that was left in the end.

She had laid in that morgue for a couple of days, and those men…even the women, called her Jane Doe, despite knowing who she was, and addressed her as an It, because she was a monster and monsters were not people; monsters were things.

Leroy remembered how those people would look at her, so full of resentment and, at the same time, mockery.

He remembered how carelessly they had handled the blanket covering her body, because she didn’t matter.

And he remembered Hugh Everhart asking them to show some respect, as he covered her again and apologized to him.

He remembered how those people stared at him, processing there was someone here, reclaiming this loveless woman, who had a heartbeat for many years, even after she became heartless.

Leroy remembered how they would treat her, as if she were the coldest and most hideous being to have ever existed; as if she were even more ruthless than Ace Anarchy himself, and he remembered saying:

“Yes, that’s her.”

And he remembered Hugh Everhart taking over the issue with his own hands, saying, in a voice that didn’t sound like his’:

“We know, mister Flinn. But we still need you to sign.”

And he remembered signing.

What he didn’t remember, however, was forgetting all of that.

“Nothing… just…”

Winston had small hands, but when he patted his shoulder, it felt like he was being patted by Captain Chromium.

He had understood, and it was embarrassing.

“If you’re not hungry… I can take you to your room so you can get some rest… And… when you’re ready to talk about it, we’ll try to be ready too. Okay dokay? Just so you know… we understand it’s tough and that… adapting to this will be tough. But take all the time you need.”

Take all the time you need was such a hopeless phrase that Leroy couldn’t find the words to describe how much he despised it, but hearing it was better than listening to his brain.

Then, sleeping was better than any of those things, because Leroy didn’t even like the room.

Something was leaking, and his pillow was getting wet.

He wished somebody could fix that.

-.-

There was barely any sun left when the shadow Leroy recognized as Nova came into the room; with a groan, she laid on her stomach, next to him.

Her Renegade uniform looked the tiniest bit loose on her, but she didn’t smell like humidity anymore.

She smelled like this house, and even as Leroy stared at her through the nightstand light, he was able to almost see her blue eyes, despite them being closed.

He just saw her there, with her eyes closed but not asleep, tired as she looked.

One year.

Yet, all Leroy managed to do was stroke her hair awkwardly, which caught her attention, but didn’t make her pull away.

Her eyes had a spark in them. One that was foreign to Leroy.

After all this time, she was finally safe. And she knew it.

And she was so used to it, that she just rubbed her eyes, before closing them again.

“You’re not going anywhere this time, are you?” she asked in a hoarse voice.

Leroy wondered why would he leave.

“I’m staying right here.”

“Good.”

Then, she fell asleep for many, many hours.

And at least she didn’t go anywhere. Neither did him.

Nobody in that house went anywhere.

[saeyoungs-sunflower]

A Piece of You: Chapter 5

Pairing: Zen x MC

Synopsis: After the death of his sister, Zen is entrusted with raising her daughter. Six years later and MC has settled into RFA, but she just wants to be back on the roof with the love of her life like she was two years before. But dealing with teenage years, dragged out engagements and a lot of unsaid feelings, you start to lose a piece of you. Or, perhaps, find a piece you had that had been missing the whole time.

Warnings: References to alcohol/drinking.

Songs (a few today, it felt appropriate haha, also I figured out how to link to Spotify so there’s that):

Beautiful Mistake - Hudson Taylor

Even If It’s a Lie - Matt Maltease

Dancing On My Own - Callum Scott

⇦ Previous Chapter

***

It was only two years later when MC and Chul got engaged.

It was a beautiful proposal, they said. Filled with tears of joy, promises of devotion, a dazzling ring to solidify their commitment.

Everyone was expecting it, Zen was expecting it. He knew after the first six months that it would end up this way.

But it still hit him like an elbow to the gut.

Zen had had a lot of time to think over those two years. Gi had been discovered by a well-respected skating coach, and was spending most of her free time at the rink, leaving Zen at home with only his thoughts for company. He learnt a few things about himself.

Most prominently, he discovered that he was not, in fact, as naive as he convinced himself he was. It was, quite frankly, inappropriate how long he had revelled in his feelings but refused to even acknowledge their roots. It would become complicated, he told himself, if he dug a little deeper and fought a little harder. But now, things were more complicated than they ever have been, and then they ever would have been.

However, Zen didn’t remember exactly when he came to this realisation. Maybe it was after she surprised Gi during training when she knew she was having a hard week, or the hug she gave him on opening night, or when she called him and sobbed down the phone as she told him the ‘good news’…

Though, it didn’t matter when it happened, to be honest. All that mattered now was that he was sat alone at the bar, the sharp hiss of whiskey on his tongue as others sipped champagne behind him, cheering and congratulating the newly-engaged couple. He wanted, with every fibre of his being, to celebrate with them and to look her in the eye and say ‘I wish you the best, and I know he’ll make you happy’, but this was the most challenging role he had ever had to play, and he was too exhausted to rise to it. Zen didn’t want to play a side character in her life, he wanted to be her co-star, but he had missed the audition.

He took one more swig and was about to leave the bar when he heard a low, smooth voice from behind him.

“Leaving already?”

Zen had to bite his tongue to prevent him from shouting all kinds of profanities in the heir’s face. He swivelled in his chair to face the man who had just taken the seat next to him and was already ordering two more whiskeys. Zen wasn’t in the mood to argue, “Jumin, seriously, not right now. Lecture me tomorrow if you need to, whatever. But right now, leave me alone.”

“I’m not going to lecture you,” Jumin said easily, “I want to talk.”

“Oh yeah? What about.”

“About how your best friend is celebrating one of the best moments of her life, and you’re over here sulking.”

Zen was taken aback, but tried his best not to show it, “You don’t get it.”

“Yes, actually, I do.”

The older man turned in his chair slightly so he was fully facing Zen, but looking just behind him. Zen peered over his shoulder curiously, only to find MC, eyes sparkling and skin glowing as she chatted away to the rest of the group. He felt a pang of guilt, “What do you mean you do?”

Jumin sipped his whiskey and cleared his throat, “I’m not also half in love with her, if that’s what you’re worried about. But she is special to me, to all of us. The engagement also made us feel a sense of loss-”

“Grief, more like.”

“How can you be grieving when she’s never looked more alive?”

When Zen stayed quiet, Jumin continued, “I said I wouldn’t lecture you, and I won’t, but I want to offer my advice and help. No, let me finish. You are not the same man that joined the RFA all those years ago. You have a child, a career, and a whole lot of unresolved emotions and grief from family-”

“Are you really talking to me about unresolved emotions?!” Zen snapped.

“Not that that’s important, but you’re not the only one who’s been guided by MC,” Jumin said steadily, “But anyway, what I am saying is that I don’t blame you for not realising your feelings towards MC sooner, for not acknowledging that you are in lo-“

“Stop.”

Jumin sighed, “I don’t care what you have against me, but you are in the RFA and therefore you are a part of this family. I care about my family,” he placed his drink on the bar, “therefore I also care about MC. I don’t want you to make any rash decisions and confuse her.”

“So that’s what you wanted to talk to me about? I’m not gonna tell her how I feel, if that’s why you’re so concerned. Funnily enough, I also care about her. I’m not gonna do anything to jeopardise her happiness. You should know that.”

“I do know, and that’s not the only thing I wanted to tell you,” he paused, looking Zen directly in the eye, “V and I have been talking, and we’re worried about you. Both of us. You have a lot on your plate, Zen, and I want to help in whatever way I can. Whether Gi needs help funding her coaching, or you find yourself needing someone to confide in, you can call me and I’ll be there, no questions asked.”

Zen was silent for a moment, almost too stunned to form words, “Dude, where the hell did that come from?”

Jumin chuckled, “I have no idea. Maybe the atmosphere of the evening has made me sentimental. Or perhaps Yoosung’s lack of sobriety has kicked in some paternal instincts I didn’t know I had.”

Both the men laughed and swigged their drinks, before settling into a companionable silence. Zen looked over his shoulder once more, to find MC and Chul on the dance floor, holding each other close, joy evident and smiles in abundance.

Would she have chosen him? If he had acted sooner, stopped being an idiot sooner, would he have been the man to dance with her, rather than the man sat watching alone at the bar? The thought ate away at him, and it became too much, “I appreciate it, Jumin, and I know I’m being selfish but…but I still don’t think I can do this right now.”

Jumin nodded and set down his now empty glass, “I understand. I’ll tell MC you had an emergency call and Gi needed you home.”

“Thank you,” he paused, “I mean it.”

“You’re welcome. Again, if you need me, call. If I for some reason don’t pick up, call V. We’ll help you, no matter what.”

Zen nodded in recognition and made his way towards the exit. He’d need to move past the dance floor through a group of people, but the RFA group seemed fairly occupied with their own conversations, so Zen should be able to just slip-

“Hey! There you are!”

Zen was swivelled around by his shoulder and met with a pair of bright eyes, sparkling from the buzz but drooping slightly from the alcohol. She was still the most gorgeous thing he had ever laid eyes on.

“Where are you going? Are you feeling okay?”

And she had the most kind heart he had ever encountered. He wanted to scream. “I’m okay, MC, thank you. I just got a call from the babysitter, she said Gi needs me so I gotta run.”

“Oh, okay. Tell Gi I said hello, and I hope she’s alright…”

“I will, thank you. And…” he stared at her. He couldn’t do anything but look straight into her eyes as they watched him expectantly. Her hair fell so smoothly behind her bare shoulders, curling softly at the ends. She was ethereal, practically glowing from her joy. Her soul was always on display, yet she never wore her heart on her sleeve. She held everything that Zen had ever wanted and hid away everything he craved to discover, but he was too damn slow.

She cocked an eyebrow, curiosity and concern starting to flood her features, “Zen?”

Maybe he could ask for one dance, one last moment with just the two them, to have her in his arms one last time, like old times. Perhaps then she would see how he truly felt towards her, and perhaps she would decide that she wants him too. He would hold her, cherishing every breath she took and showing her the love she deserved. He could do that, it didn’t need to be Chul. He could be the one she wanted. He could be the one she chooses. Zen wasn’t ready to let go, and he might not have to.

But he looked back at her now, at the woman who already gave him the world. The one who stayed by him, who supported him, who wiped his tears and who treated Gi as if she were her own, giving her memories that she’ll cherish for the rest of her life. MC, the woman who appeared out of thin air and made him feel worth something more than he believed.

He was too young, too stupid, to see what was right in front of him before. And now, he was the one who went unseen. Where he saw colour, she now saw grey, and where he felt magic, she now felt nothing at all.

He wanted one last moment with her, but she was in love with someone else, and love looked too good on her.

I’m not gonna do anything to jeopardise her happiness.

He looked beyond MC and saw Chul, who was laughing along with Saeyoung and Yoosung, fitting in so well with the group that Zen spent the night avoiding. He also caught Jumin and V’s watchful eyes on him. He made his choice.

He looked her in the eye once again, “Congratulations, MC. I am so happy for you, truly. If anyone deserves this, it’s you. You look absolutely gorgeous tonight, Chul is a very lucky man. I wish you the best, and I know he’ll make you happy,” he leant down, placing a soft, chaste kiss on her cheeks, rosy from the champagne, now even rosier, “Goodbye, MC.”

Zen walked out the door, not giving himself the option of looking back. He wanted to miss seeing her bound back to her fiance, and miss seeing his hands placed on her waist and her lips on his. He wanted to miss seeing the one that got away being with the one who got her.

However, in his attempt to protect himself, he missed one very crucial detail, one specific pair of eyes, and the anger burning within them, the thoughts being formed behind them.

I see. Well, that just won’t do.

***

Gi was already in bed by the time Zen returned home. He excused the babysitter, paying her the promised amount despite his early return, and dragged himself to the couch. He sat down with a defeated sigh, staring up at the ceiling as his mind filled with noise. Nothing could be done. It wasn’t meant to be, and that was that. Tomorrow would be better. He prayed tomorrow would be better.

Just as his eyelids fell shut, he felt a dip in the couch next to him. Gi silently climbed onto his lap and curled up into his chest, and Zen instinctively wrapped his arms tightly around her small form, “Hey you, you should be in bed,” he whispered.

“Why are you sad?”

He brushed the wispy hairs away from her face, “What makes you think I’m sad?”

“You have your sad smell.”

Zen chuckled, his amusement genuine for the first time that evening, “Are you saying I smell bad? How rude. You’re the smelly one here.” When she didn’t smile, Zen felt his heart sink, “What do you mean by my ‘sad smell’?”

Gi pointed to his mouth, her eyebrows furrowed, “Your breath. When you go out at night and come back with that smell, it’s because you’re sad,” she paused, “I don’t like that smell.”

The whiskey. She was smelling the whiskey on his breath. Zen wanted to cry. In fact, he would have if he hadn’t blinked away the tears that threatened to surface, “I’m sorry, sweetie, I’m okay. I’m not sad.”

Gi didn’t look convinced, “Are you sure?”

“I have you, don’t I? What do I have to be sad about?”

Zen didn’t ever want to lie to Gi, but he gave himself the excuse that he was only half lying. Because yes, he was actually sad, but he knew he wouldn’t be forever. Gi was the single best thing in his life, and the only thing he needed. He was sad now, but tomorrow would be better. Any tomorrow with Gi in it was a tomorrow worth waiting for. For her, he needed to do better. He needed to make sure that ‘sad smell’ or anything of the like would never exist again.

When she fell heavy in his embrace, Zen carefully carried her up to her room. Placing her gently onto the mattress and bringing the blanket up to her chin, he kissed the top of her head and flicked off the light, waiting in the doorway for an extra moment.

This was all he needed. It was him and her now, father and daughter. His heart was full as long as she was there. As long as she stayed by his side.

As long as she didn’t stray from him.

As long as she didn’t become like him.

But no matter how much he denied it, there was a piece of her that grew stronger everyday. A piece of her that was, in fact, a piece of him. It was evident by the letters from teachers that sat on the kitchen table, the text messages he received from her coach when she didn’t turn up to practise, even when he had dropped her off; by the phone call from the police station when they caught her stealing an ice cream from the shop down the street, as a group of kids quietly ate theirs in the alley next to it.

As long as she didn’t become like him.

Though she was her father’s daughter, after all.

***

Masterlist || Next Chapter

[iwillhaveamoonbase]

The Long Game ch. 4

Rayla watched on as Ezran and Callum argued.  “I’m telling you; I can talk to animals!”

Callum folded his arms. “It’s the raccoons all over again.”

“Callum!”

“No.  This is why you don’t have friends!”  Rayla’s eyes went wide at that.

“Callum!  Stop it!”  She wasn’t even sure how they had gotten in on this bizarre argument.  One minute they were enjoying their free time between lessons and the next Ezran was talking about how the horses were complaining about kissing in their stalls.  Callum hadn’t taken kindly to it, calling Ezran a liar and now, apparently, Ezran could talk to animals.  Rayla felt a headache coming on, but she also knew Ezran didn’t lie.  “Just hear him out.”  Rayla bent down to look Ezran in the eyes.  “Ez, can you prove it?”

Ezran nodded.  “The mice saw you two having conversations on your balconies.  Every night, you two talk.”

Callum shook his head. “You could have easily overheard that. My room is right next to your’s and you have a balcony, too.”

Ezran groaned.  “I’m sorry about the raccoons, OK?!  I didn’t know they were all liars, but I’m not lying!”

Rayla put her hand on Ezran’s shoulder.  “I know you believe this, Ez.”  She looked at Bait in his arms.  Ezran had always seemed hyperaware of Bait’s feelings….She took Bait and walked over to the stacks, ignoring Ezran and Callum asking what she was doing.  “OK, frog.  I’m going to tell you something nobody in this castle knows.”  Bait looked up at her with his grumpy face, but croaked in acceptance, at least, she supposed he did.  When she looked behind her and saw that the boys were still far behind them, she picked Bait up and whispered close to where she assumed his ear hole was. “My parents names were Tiadrin and Lain. My adoptive fathers called each other ‘My Heart.’”

Rayla turned back to Callum and Ezran, walking back with Bait.  She had no idea what Bait was capable of communicating, but she figured, if Ezran could understand any of this, it would convince her.  Rayla handed Bait to Ezran, and gestured for the glow toad to talk.

“What’d she do, buddy?” Ezran sighed.  Callum raised a brow, clearly wanting to know himself.  Ezran looked up and smiled.  “That’s adorable.”

“What is?” Rayla asked.

“Your dads calling each other ‘My Heart.’  That’s so romantic!”  Rayla’s eyes went wide.  Callum looked at her, waiting for her to speak, she was sure.

“He can talk to animals,” Rayla said.  Before Callum could ask, she walked away.  She was going to have to be even more careful.  If Ezran could hear the mice…she couldn’t say anything out loud. Nowhere was safe.  Rayla’s eyes went wide as her breath came out in harsh pants.  Had she slipped at any point?  Would Ezran be able to understand her mumbles to herself?  Rayla but her hand to her chest as she felt her heart beating loudly. “Oh, no…oh, no.”

“Rayla!  How you-you OK?”  Rayla looked up to see Soren, staring down at her.  “You look like Callum when he’s having an anxiety attack.”

Was that what was happening? Blood was rushing in her ears. She had already failed and now…what if they figured if out and locked her up?  They would kill her.  Callum….Callum would hate her….Why did that hurt more than anything else?  Rayla felt tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. “I’m fine,” she whispered.  She couldn’t let anyone see her be weak.  She was not weak.  She was strong and brave and she would not fail in her duty.

“You don’t look fine. Do you want me to take you to your room?”  Soren wrapped an arm around her shoulder, lifting her up.  When had she sunk to her knees on the floor?

“I said I’m fine!”  She pushed him away, putting her hand on the wall to steady herself.  “I’m fine. Thank you, Soren.”  Soren backed up, nodding at her.

“Do you want to, maybe, talk about it?  I can be an ear for you if you want.”

“No.  I’ve got it.  Just learned something that shocked me.”  Rayla walked away from Soren, ignoring his disappointed face.  She didn’t have time for his flirting, even when he was trying to be kind.  When she made it to her room, she settled on her bed and laid against the bed.  She tried counting backwards, tried working through it.  She tried a Big Feelings Time in her head, but nothing was working.  

The tears of frustration came hard and they came fast.  She was going to fail, just like her parents.  She was a failure.  This is why the guild had sent her.  They had sent her to fail, get rid of her and end her miserable bloodline.  She could feel herself spiral down deep into corners that couldn’t possible be true, but certainly felt true in the moment.  Or was it true?  Did they think she was doomed to fail?

She heard knocking on her door, but ignored it.  She didn’t want to see anyone.  “Rayla?” She turned her head to see Callum, his soft eyes staring right at her.  Rayla turned away.  She didn’t want him to see her like this.  “Soren said you were upset.”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“Leave me alone,” she whispered in her pillow.  “You wouldn’t get it.”

Instead of him leaving, he sat on the bed next to her.  “You’re right, I probably wouldn’t.”  She turned to look at him.  He smiled down at her.  Softly, hesitantly, he stroked her cheek and ran a hand through her hair.  Rayla’s breath caught in her throat.  “When my anxiety gets to be too much, I imagine my mom. It’s been so long since I’ve seen here, but she’s this calming force in my life.  I miss her, all the time.  I don’t remember my father, at all.  I just know I have his eyes and talent for art.”  Callum removed his hand, moving to the art journal he kept at his side at all times.  “Do you want to see something?”

Rayla nodded, sitting up. She rested her head on his shoulder, taking in his scent of rosemary and balsam.  He flipped through the pages until he finally landed on a picture of Sarai, Harrow, him, and Ezran.  “It’s beautiful.”

“I draw this picture every year.  I want to remember us from back then.  My mom can’t grow old anymore, but I want us to have a family portrait every year anyways.”

“You look so much like her.”

“Thanks.  It’s always a compliment when people say that.”  He was quiet as he slowly flipped the pages for her to look through.  “You missed the Jerkface Dance.”

“I did?” she whispered.

“I did the trick you did, with Bait.  Ez now knows something really embarrassing.”

“What?”

“NOPE!  It’s bad enough he knows.”  Rayla didn’t push it.  

After a few moments, she sighed.  “I felt trapped by the fact that Ezran understands the mice.  If he does, does that mean we don’t have secrets here?”

“I felt really upset about that too.  Ez said he ignores the mice and has asked them to be quiet when they know he’s there. At least, about the things they hear around the castle.  It’s too much of an invasion of privacy.”

“He’s a good kid.”

“He is.  I felt really bad for saying that’s why he doesn’t have friends.  Ez has always been a weird kid.  But, that’s not fair, is it?  He’s the future king.  No matter what he does, people are going to look at him differently.”

Rayla raised her head, turning Callum’s head to look at her.  “You’re both just doing your best.  It’s too much burden for one so young.  It’s not just him; everyone looks at you differently, too.  I heard Viren offered magic lessons.”

“Claudia did.  Primal magic since she has a primal stone.  I’m gonna learn sky magic.”

Rayla smiled.  “Do you promise, no dark magic?”

“I promise.  It’s a shortcut and all it leads to is disaster. My mother…maybe she would still be alive if dark magic hadn’t been an option in the first place.”

“Maybe.  Maybe it was her time.  Who’s to say?”

Callum stared in her eyes. “It gets worse when I look in your eyes.”

“What does?”

“That tingling something’s off.”  Rayla turned her head away, letting him go.  “I’m sorry!  That was rude!”

“No, it’s fine,” Rayla wrapped her arms around herself.  For a second, she had forgotten the spell was there.   He had looked at her like she was everything…stop, Rayla.  Just stop.  She couldn’t have him.  She turned back around, Callum still looking at her.  “Thank you.  I feel better after you told me that Ezran doesn’t heed the mice.”

“I thought that was it. But Soren wasn’t sure.  And, since he watches you so much…”

“He needs to stop.  I’m not interested.  Not my type.”

“What is your type?” It was so quiet she wasn’t sure she had heard right.

Rayla looked at him for a few moments.  “Smart, willing to admit when they’re wrong, loving, kind.”  She gulped.  “A massive dork.  Come on, we have lessons still.”  She couldn’t give him time to think about what she had just said.  If they did, what if he felt the same?  Would she throw everything away to be with Callum? Rayla turned her head to look back at Callum, hand still holding her’s.  Yes, she would give it all up if he loved her back as much as she loved him.  She could never give him a chance to.

-------------------------------------

Callum huffed as he did his fifth fulminis.  “Claudia, isn’t there any other spells?”

“You’re not ready, Callum,” she muttered.  She was watching him with a critical eye.  “You’re very quick with a primal stone, honestly.  It took me weeks to get to this level.  Dark magic was always easier.”

“Maybe I’m destined to be a sky mage?” Callum asked.  The possibilities would be endless.  

Claudia shook her head. “We were born with nothing.  That’s why we need dark magic and primal stones. Come on, try dark magic.  I’m sure you’d take to it right away.”

“No thanks,” Callum stood firm.  Claudia was always trying to tempt him with dark magic and dates these days.  He didn’t get it.  The dark magic, he could.  Claudia didn’t see just how dangerous it was yet.  But the dates, that made no sense.

“OK.  You wanna go get some jelly tarts?”  And there was the date.

“No thanks.”  Claudia nodded, not looking too torn up.  “Is Viren asking you to ask me out?”

Claudia’s back straightened, turning away from him.  “No?” It came out as a question.  “I just think you and I would be good together.”

“Yeah, while I’m in love with Rayla and you’re not even attracted to me.”  Claudia was quiet for too long.  “You know I’m in love with Rayla, right?”

“So is Soren.  Soren would be a good choice for her.  He’s always trying to impress her and his sword fighting skills are pretty good.”

Callum looked down at his feet.  That was all true.  Rayla was too cool and pretty for him.  She was his teacher and his friend, nothing more.  There’s no way he could convince someone like her that he was even an option.  “I know.  I just don’t want us both to be miserable with each other.”  Callum walked out of the room, heading towards the grounds. It was almost time for his lesson with Rayla.  He saw her facing off against Soren.  As always, it was clear as day that Rayla was the superior one with a weapon.  She dodged and flowed like it was a dance, sweeping the leg effortlessly when she got bored of the match.  

Callum saw that the crown guards around them were nursing injuries of their own.  Rayla had probably gone through the lot of them.  She finally swatted Soren’s sword out of his hand, putting the tip to his chin.  “I win.” Her voice was crisp and clear, turning to look at the lot of the other guards.  “He lasted longer than all of you.  Do not forget that he is the head of the crown guard for a reason.  You all need to stop making jokes about how a tiny girl keeps beating him.  I think I remember Queen Sarai being the former general and incredibly skilled with a spear.  Also, isn’t General Amaya a woman?”    

One of the guards looked disgruntled.  “You’re a slip of a thing and you’re so good.”

“I’ve got a lot of toned muscle.  I prioritize speed over bulk.  It’s not that complicated.”  Rayla looked over at him, as if she had known he was there the whole time.  Had she?  “I’m doing the same with Callum.  Making a move faster is just as important as might.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Doesn’t everyone?”  Rayla walked away, handing the sword to a random guard and grabbing two spears.  “Good, you’re here.  Let’s get this session underway.  They were a good warm-up.”  Callum followed before her, in awe of just how cool she sounded.  They went to their more secluded grounds and went through the warm-ups of stretches and following basic spear-holding positions.  “Eventually, we’ll get you doing swordplay again.  Just to please everyone.  How was your lesson with Claudia?”

“She suggested dark magic again.”

“And you said ‘no’?”

Why did she always sound so concerned when she asked that?  “Of course. I have no interest in it.”

“Good.”  Rayla turned away for a moment.  She quickly spun the spear in her hand and turned to face him, moving to strike.  He blocked her, trying to hold her ground as she added power behind her moves.  She moved around him, trying to teach him how to keep grounded on his feet.  “Better! Stand firm.  No matter what, you cannot lose your balance.  It’ll all be over if you do.”  Callum nodded, bending his knees a bit.  “Bad choice,” Rayla whispered.  Callum couldn’t stop her from using her spear to sweep his legs out from under him, knocking him flat on his back.  “You reacted to what I said in an obvious way.  If you had waited, maybe I wouldn’t have noticed.”

“You’d have noticed. Don’t act like you wouldn’t have.”

“True.”  Rayla stared down at him before offering her hand to help him up.  “You are getting much better, though.  I’m proud of you.”

Callum flushed at her words. It had been a little more than a year since she had arrived, crashing into their lives and disrupting his heart in every way.  She now had to look up at him as his growth spurt had started.  He watched as she spun the spear in her hand again, moving like it was a dance partner.  Everything she did was like a dance.  Perhaps, in another life, she was a dancer for a theater troupe.  “Thanks.”

She smiled back at him. “Dinner will be soon, Your Highness. Go wash up.”

“What about you?”

“I want to stay here a bit longer.  The peace and quiet does me good.”  He nodded, leaving her behind.  When he turned back for a last look, he saw her looking back at him, a soft look on her face.  What did that mean?  It reminded him of how his mom had looked at Harrow back when she had been alive.  But, he couldn’t hope for that from Rayla. Someone like her was made for far better than him.

[bad-boy-spanker]

Austere Academy-Chapter Four

Callum was unmoved by Green's threat.

“Suffice to say you’re getting caned”

Callum smirked as his fate was announced, Green had caned him dozens of times, it was nothing new.

“I’ve been told there was two of you, who were you with, it’s only fair he is caned as well”

Callum scoffed, like fuck he was grass on Chris.

“Let’s just get this over with”

Green pulled a size thirteen slipper out of his drawer, it was well worn but had only ever been used across the bare bottoms of unruly young men.

“We can do this the easy way, or the hard way”

Callum grinned at Green, he loved the whole cat & mouse game, winding Green up, pushing his luck.

“Callum, leaving academy grounds is serious, normally I would spank you & be done with it, but this isn’t like your normal teenage antics”

Green wasn’t taking the bait, Callum upped his cocky attitude.

“Teenage antics, I’m thirty-two, I’m an adult for fuck sake”

Green could see there was no point arguing with Callum, he didn’t want to listen.

“Bend over”

Finally, Callum thought, he wasn’t going to make this easy for Green, Callum didn’t move, effectively challenging Green, not a wise idea, Green grabbed Callum’s ear & bent him over the desk, Callum’s shorts tightened around his round bottom, Green gave each of Callum’s cheeks a pat & a squeeze.

“The hard way it is”

Green lifted the slipper & brought it down fiercely, Callum felt the familiar sting burn its way across the left side of his arse, followed by an identical sting on the right as Green slapped down another blow, Callum peered over his shoulder at Green, smiling smugly, earning him after another five stingers, Callum huffed across the desk, five more slaps followed, across the center of his arse this time, he shifted his feet, Green paused & stood beside Callum, Callum was confused, was that it, Green must be off his game.

“That all you got”

Green pointed the slipper at Callum.

“I mean it, Callum, stop pissing me about, tell me who it was”

Callum made eye contact with Green & shook his head.

“Get up”

Green lowered Callum’s shirts to just below his thick grey socks, Callum’s tight boxers left little to the imagination, Green couldn’t help but notice Callum’s sizeable bulge, he knew that Callum had an affinity for being spanked, that’s what made him so tough to break, but Green wouldn’t be beaten, Callum always caved in the end.

“Back down”

Callum stayed in place, Green grabbed his shirt collar & forced him back down into his bent-over position, he lifted Callum’s shirttail, & raised the slipper, Callum grunted as the slipper connected with his left cheek, a second slap landed twice as hard, on his right, the third in the centre, four, five & six repeated the same pattern, causing Callum to wince, his cock throbbed in his boxers, Green was rather enjoying this, he, like Callum, appreciated the cat & mouse game.

“Come on, Callum, just tell me”

Callum still wasn’t talking, Green slapped the slipper down six more times, alternating cheeks, Callum began inwardly groaning, that was more like it, Green was starting to get in the swing of it.

“I already know who it is”

Callum was only slightly starting to feel uncomfortable, but he wasn’t quite ready to break, his cock throbbed as it began dripping precum.

“If you know who it is, why the fuck am I here”

Green knew he would have to up the stakes, as much as he appreciated the game they played, this was beginning to get disrespectful.

“I want you to tell me, you need to learn I am in charge here Callum, & you will not disrespect me, stand-up”

Callum stood again, his hands caressed his sore arse, they were quickly slapped out of the way by Green, who slowly pulled down Callum’s boxers, exposing his bare red bottom & throbbing erection, he bent Callum back over the desk, & stood behind him eying up his target, Callum was peeved, he did respect Green, & resented the insinuation that he didn’t, he treasured the unspoken understanding between them, why would Green say that, even in his vulnerable he couldn’t help but take a jab at Green, out of hurt & anger.

“Still not telling you”

Green rewarded his petulance immediately, ten blows quickly landed on Callum’s sit spot, Callum yelled, but he wasn’t going to let Green win, the slipper landed another ten times, Callum felt a tear prick the corner of his eye, his erection began to fade, Green really wasn’t playing anymore, Callum’s arse was throbbing, it had now become a real battle of wills & Callum was adamant on winning, Green put his hand on the small of Callum’s back & crashed the slipper down another ten times.

“Gaaahhh”

Callum wriggled over the desk, his arse bounced as he gyrated, he had tears running down his face, Green determined to break Callum, brought the slipper down twenty times on the lads sore red bottom, Callum cried loudly, as the burning in his stinging arse brought him closer to caving in.

“I admire your loyalty, Callum, even though it’s misplaced”

That hit home with Callum, was his upset really worth it, all for the sake of an off-grounds pint with Chris, he wanted to give Chris up, but his pride wouldn’t let him, if he could just get through this, maybe Green would let him off, he’d let him off with somethings before, just get through it, he thought to himself, Green laid on five slaps within seconds, Callum was suffering, but he remained tight-lipped, the worst part of all this was, Green was really mad at him, & that hurt nearly as much as his arse did, another five, still nothing, Green was getting tired, there was no need for this, even after another ten Callum said nothing.

“Give me his name”

Callum was ready to break, his arse throbbed, Green flicked the size thirteen slipper down hard on the sore red bottom before him.

“Give”

“Ah”

“Me”

“Ah-ha”

“His”

“Ah-ha-ha”

“Name”

“Ah-ha-ha-ha”

Callum wailed, Green had had enough, he repeatedly slapped the slipper into Callum’s burning arse as hard as he could, in a wild flurry, striking every inch of the sore arse he could, over & over, hard, fast, & relentless.

“Chris Griffiths”

Callum shouted as he broke.

“Finally”

Green let the slipper fall onto his desk, Callum just cried, his bottom was so sore & he had upset Green, all for the sake of a pint, Green allowed Callum a few minutes to cry it out, softly rubbing his back as he pulled himself together, Callum appreciated the caring touch, he could tell Green didn’t enjoy punishing him like that.

“Come on, get yourself dressed, & wipe your face”

Callum slowly lifted himself from the desk & gave his sore bottom a rub, he pulled up his boxers & shorts, wincing as they tightened around his raw bottom, he made eye contact with Green, taking the tissue Green handed him, Green sat down as Callum dried his eyes.

“Why do you have to be so stubborn, Callum, I haven’t had to punish you like that since you first arrived”

Callum said nothing, just sniffled, staring at the floor.

“Normally, I’d be giving you another spanking tonight”

Panic flashed across Callum’s face.

“But, in light of the thrashing I’ve just given you, I’ll let you off”

The panic on Callum’s face was quickly replaced with relief.

“Thank you, sir”

Green smiled, Callum was a good lad, he just let his attitude rule his head.

“Don’t thank me just yet, you & Chris are still getting caned for your pub visit, & you’re still on punishment parade”

Callum’s shoulders dropped, any hope he had of escaping a caning had dissipated.

“But we’ll delay your caning until Thursday, give you a day or two to recover”

Callum smiled.

“Thank you, sir”

Green was relieved, Callum had found his manners again, he realised Callum didn’t mean any real disrespect, but sometimes he pushed it a bit too far, they were back on good terms now, but Green issued Callum a warning, so there could be no confusion going forward.

“But if you ever disrespect me like that again, I won’t hesitate to drag you back in & give you a repeat performance”

Callum shuffled uncomfortably at the prospect, he didn’t want another spanking like that, his bottom was incredibly tender, he wouldn’t be sitting comfortably for a while, but he knew he deserved it, not just for the pub visit, but for disrespecting his friend.

“I’m I disrespected you Gaz, I just wasn’t thinking, I know you sometimes let me get away with things you probably shouldn’t, & I appreciate it, & you”

Green walked over & gave Callum a hug, Callum hugged the younger man tightly, there was an unspoken camaraderie between them, although they butted heads, they had respect for each other, Green released Callum from the hug & patted him on the back.

“I appreciate you too when you’re behaving, & you get away with so much, cause you’re a nice guy, you’re a good senior, you keep the buggers in line when they need it, not to mention the amount of wresting cup & football trophy’s you won for Austere, it’s just you’ve got a shit attitude sometimes, luckily, I have a remedy for that”

Green patted Callum’s arse playfully.

“Now get yourself to class, & for fuck sake behave”

Callum let out a small laugh & turned to leave, rubbing his sore bottom as he left, causing Green to chuckle, he stood up & put away his cane, he left his slipper out to deal with Chris, he’d be caned with Callum on Thursday, but it was only fair he faced the same consequences Callum did, but unlike Callum, Chris would be going over his knee before bed.

[wildroseofarran]

Facing Demons || Brett, Guildias, MJ, & Pete || April, 2020

Brett: It had been several weeks since Brett had received that letter from California. During that time the letter had sat untouched in his locked desk drawer at the station, coming out only once when it had been shown to his domitor.

The rest of the time had been spent keenly aware of its presence while contemplating burning it or trying and failing to work up the courage to get it out again. Brett could think of good reasons to do the former and only one to do the latter, yet somehow, he hadn't ever been able to bring himself to get rid of it. He hadn't been able to work up the courage either.

Truth be told, he had no idea what finally made him do it; just that while having his lunch one afternoon, he found himself unlocking that drawer and looking at that number scrawled on the bottom.

"God help me," he sighed.

{Text to MJ} Hi

{Text} Does the offer still stand?

MJ: MJ felt for his phone on the bedside table. Blackened out room. Still no night vision; still no desire to live in daylight.

The brightness of the screen burned his retinas, hissing like a cat. The phone bounced between hands in an exhausting rescue attempt.

{Text} Whoooo yes. Hi. {Text} If this is the sheriff absolutely

Brett: Right, new number. MJ wouldn't remember Brett's phone number, he should've self-identified. Silly mistake brought on by buckets of anxiety.

{Text} Yeah, sorry about that

{Text} It's Brett Parker

MJ: {Text} Sup man

{Text} Where ya want? When?

{Text} Please don't say right now my eyeballs are roasting

Brett: Brett stared down at his phone, worrying his lip between his teeth. He hadn’t thought he’d make it this far and didn’t have a plan.

{Text to Guildias} Hey

{Text to Guildias} I finally got up the courage to contact MJ

Guildias: {Text from Guildias} Are you alright?

Brett: {Text to Guildias} Kind of. Feeling anxious and like I shouldn’t be eating lunch because I’m afraid I might see it again

{Text to Guildias} He’s asking where and when I want to meet

Guildias: The next text takes a minute.

{Text} You wish for me to accompany you?

Brett: {Text} I would, if you’re still willing

Guildias: {Text} Where would you feel most comfortable?

Brett: {Text} Your place, if we’re being completely honest

Guildias: {Text} Set up the meeting, then.

Brett: {Text} What time works best?

Guildias: {Text} Eight o'clock. {Text} Have to yield to our schedule tonight.

Brett: Brett had figured as much. At least he had a few hours to calm himself down and work up even more courage to actually go through with it.

{Text} I thought as much

{Text} Is it okay if I come a little early?

Guildias: {Text} It'll just be me. I would prefer you first.

Brett: Brett took a deep breath. That much was a relief. Getting there first was just a small little thing but he knew from other experiences that it would help a lot.

{Text} Okay, thank you

{Text} Is it all right if I get there around 7:30?

Guildias: {Text} That's fine. Wait at the door for me and do try not to be alarmed by my appearance.

Brett: He frowned at his phone. Alarmed? Why would he be alarmed?

{Text} I promise I'll try my best

{Text} See you tonight

Guildias: Guildias felt under-dressing, shirtless as he had been for days, would distract from the occasion. A black loose-fitted V-neck sweater was slipped into and tucked. The left sleeve hung, empty from down the elbow.

A text was sent Callum, warning of the impending chapter about to unfold.

Brett: Now that there was a plan in place, Brett turned his attention back to his other conversation with a bit less anxiety.

{Text to MJ} No, don't worry. I'm working right now

{Text to MJ} Are you free tonight at 8? We can meet at Guildias' house

MJ: MJ stared for a moment. He shouldn't have been surprised. Something in the suggestion of Guildias insulted him.

{Text} Yeah. I'll see ya then

Brett: {Text} See you then

{Text} Also, just out of curiosity, why are your eyeballs roasting?

MJ: {Text} Daylight sheriff

{Text} I have this skin condition see

{Text} Where everything hurts and I'm dying because daytime

Brett: {Text} Right, forgot it's the middle of the day only for me

{Text} Sorry about that

{Text} I'll see you tonight

MJ: {Text} Get some vitamin D for me

Brett: {Text} Will do

Now to attempt to finish his lunch and the rest of his shift despite the queasy feeling in his stomach. He also had to tell Bo that he would be home late.

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” he sighed to his sandwich.

Guildias: Guildias unlocked the one and only entrance at 7:15 pm. Walked around the house once and stepped outside with a pair of brown octagonal sunglasses. The moon was warm and far too bright to ignore tonight. Its image a reminder of Peter Graham. Made him curious enough to message the gentle beast as he took a seat on the edge of the porch.

Brett/Pete: Brett was still busy working up courage in his car somewhere, but Pete not nearly as much. The pub was quiet tonight, giving him a chance to check his phone.

{Text} Fancy hearing from you

{Text} What are you up to?

Guildias: {Text} Growing things. Relaxing by moonlight and thinking of you.

{Text} But truly, playing the role of mediator.

Pete: {Text} Awww, that’s sweet. Growing things is certainly one way to put it

{Text} Who or what are you mediating?

Guildias: {Text} A lost relationship.

{Text} I strive to squash avoidable headaches.

Pete: {Text} Nothing breaks the ice like food and booze

{Text} Could help avoid those headaches

Guildias: {Text} If it were only so simple.

Pete: {Text} There’s gotta be something that’ll help

Guildias: {Text} Time and proof and willingness.

Pete: {Text} Sounds like you’ve got at least one of those if you’re being asked to mediate

Guildias: {Text} We shall see if that is the case.

{Text} You take care now.

Brett/Pete: {Text} You too, man

{Text} Sending you luck and good energy

Two things Brett was in sore need of as he pulled up to Guildias’ house. It was just shy of 7:30 but he hadn’t been able to drive around in idle circles any longer.

He just hoped Guildias wouldn’t mind.

Guildias: Guildias watched, raised his hand in wave, cigarette pinched between two fingers. He seemed to be favoring his right shoulder, elbow leaned against the porch. The sleeve of his left arm was mostly empty, laid flat over his abdomen.

Brett: Brett didn't notice at first. He waved back and cut the engine, got out just as he always did. It didn't hit him that something looked...not quite right until he was walking towards the house, and even then, it took him getting even closer to see that Guildias' left hand wasn't poking out of its sleeve.

And actually...that left sleeve looked empty, didn't it? Almost like....

"Wait, wh--where's your arm?! Sorry, hi, I just--hell, I broke my promise already."

Guildias: "It's alright." Less panic than expected of the timid sheriff. Another tally in his progression. More concern than fear.

"It was by design. You'll find me in proper form next week. For now, I would appreciate your tying the end."

Brett: There was definitely more concern, along with an avalanche of questions that he planned to keep to himself for the time being. "Yeah, yeah, of course. Just tell me how."

Guildias: "Just a simple knot. Not too tight. The dangle is rather annoying."

Brett: "You got it."  Brett tied off the sleeve as neatly as possible, careful not to stretch the material too much. If Guildias really would get that arm back, that sleeve needed to look decent.

"There you go. That better?"

Guildias: Where it seemed the elbow was shook back and forth to test. Acceptable.

"Thank you. Now, would you rather we go inside?"

Brett: Brett took a seat beside Guildias. "I'm okay to stay out here a bit while you finish your cigarette."

Guildias: "Kind as always." He knew the answer, but still offered the cigarette anyway.

Brett: He shook his head. “Someday maybe, but not today. Thanks though.”

Guildias: "How prepared are you for what's about to happen?"

Brett: “Not nearly enough.”

Guildias: "What is it you want to hear?"

Brett: “I don’t know. Part of me still thinks this is all a trick somehow.”

Guildias: "I've been in contact with him for some time. I would not lead you astray for cheap entertainment."

Brett: He nodded. “I know. I guess I just don’t trust him.”

Guildias: "Why would you? You haven't seen him."

Brett: “What if I’m still not able to after I do see him?”

Guildias: "Then you don't have to see him again. But you will have faced him."

Brett: Brett nodded again, taking a deep breath for good measure. "Conquer your demons and all that, right?"

Guildias: "Or leave them as tar on your body."

Brett: "I've got enough tar already. Don't want anymore."

Guildias: "Good man." The last of his cigarette depleted, Guildias forced himself to his feet.

"Shall we?"

Brett: He could feel the knots begin to form in his stomach as he stood. Every part of him wanted to get back in his car and race back home so he could hide under the covers, but his feet would carry him inside after his domitor.

MJ/Guildias: There was no concealing the sound of MJ's Harley. Its classic intention could be heard a quarter mile through the muffling trees. A sound which did nothing to spur Guildias from his languid arrangement on the stiff couch. Only in the silence of the engine did the Setite rise to his feet.

"Remain comfortable," was his only command as he approached the door.

Brett: It was like flipping a switch; or it would be, if Brett hadn't already been so nervous. First sign of that bike coming toward the house and the stress sweat started, the knots in his stomach tightened to the point of discomfort, fight or flight activated in every possible way.

If he spoke one of them would win out, so he just nodded. Never mind that comfortable was the farthest thing from what he was feeling right now. He just wanted it to be over. He wanted to have faced it without having to face it.

MJ/Guildias: Guildias greeted MJ at the door. He needn't explain. For this to be their meeting ground, MJ knew there were unspoken rules. Don't approach; be gentle with the ghoul. The look in the Setite's eyes told him to behave, and without prompt he nodded.

MJ's first thought upon laying eyes on the sheriff was that of a porcelain doll. Without smoothness and impossible complexion. Brett Parker was a delicate creature. His arms and chest had since filled and firmed. Everything else was distinctly the same. It was as though Guildias had done nothing but indulge the ghoul in vitae. His initial feeling was that of anger, but then like a slap remembered the deed which brought them here.

He decided upon a simple greeting, uttered softly, apologetic in inflection.

"Hey."

Brett: Brett didn't make eye-contact or get to his feet. Instead he picked a spot somewhere in the region of MJ's middle and gave a jerky nod in greeting and something that could reasonably pass for a smile.

"Hi." His voice had lost its ease in an effort to keep it from trembling. It was stiff, just like all the rest of him.

MJ/Guildias: MJ exchanged a glance with Guildias, looked to the emptiness of his sleeve and scoffed. The logical path to take was that of avoidance. For at least five minutes.

"Ya hear how that happened?"

Brett: He shook his head. "I didn't ask, I just tied."

MJ/Guildias: "Oh ya did that?"

"Is that a story you wish to hear?" Guildias asked.

Brett: He really, really doubted that a story that ended with Guildias losing an arm was something he wanted to hear, not even on a good day. But it was probably best to keep the conversation going, otherwise it would stall and the space would fill with tense silence and that was worse.

"Sure."

MJ/Guildias: MJ held his hands up in submission, then down slowly at his sides before taking a seat directly across. Guildias took to the arm of the couch by Parker's side. The Ravnos began to explain his visit, his friend Abel Harrington, and the idea to rescue a child they had suspicions had somehow fallen into through the Gauntlet into another realm. He then held both hands to Guildias.

"I couldn't go in. Had t'play security guard. But if ya ever saw Poltergeist ya got an idea of the goo they were covered in when they got out."

"The child is safe and healthy, according to news," said Guildias.

Brett: Brett had to fight to keep from leaning against Guildias for safety and comfort, but he appreciated his domitor’s nearness nonetheless. It was exactly the sort of thing Guildias would do.

At least the story provided plenty of distraction. There were parts of it—most of it— he could scarcely believe, things that sounded too fantastical to ever be real. He probably wouldn’t if he had any other job and didn’t watch TV.

“I remember hearing about that kid when he first went missing. Every law enforcement agency in the state got an alert. Glad he’s okay.”

MJ: "All in a night's work. Should give Guildias a superhero name. Somehow I've been dubbed Aquaman." He remembered giving Xavier his name, but couldn't for the unlife of him remember how he'd been worthy of his moniker. Something to ask when this was over; something to take his mind off of the meek look in the sheriff's eyes.

"M'sorry," he finally said.

Brett: After having braved enough to look at MJ’s chest, Brett seemed to lose his nerve and looked down at his hands instead. He had them clasped in his lap, knuckles white with the effort to keep them from shaking.

At a loss for a response, he remained silent.

MJ: "Ya don't have t'say anything. I know I fucked up. Ya looked at me like I was some... dangerous stranger. Thought if I could make ya laugh." He imitated a heartbeat. "N'then I had no thoughts. I know more shit happened, but I don't have it."

Brett: For a moment he swore he could smell lavender again. More than once a passing whiff of it had sent him into a panic, made him horribly ill. It was forever linked with that night in his mind. But apparently only in his.

“You don’t remember,” he said to the floor.

MJ: "I was two people. One that wanted t'love ya, the other wanted to... have ya."

Brett: “Which one is here?”

MJ: "Both."

Brett: “How?”

MJ: "Threat of death can do a hell of a lot. I became we became I." His hands came out then fell to his knees. "I keep tellin' people I'm not Victoria. I'm not MJ."

Brett: That didn't really answer his question, but he wasn't sure he really wanted an explanation. Some questions you just didn't want the answers to.

"Who are you?"

MJ: "I'm in this body, so you can still call me MJ, or Mayhew, or asshole. Whatever works."

Brett: "So you're still named MJ. Who are you. Why'd you send me that letter in the first place if you didn't even remember what you did?"

MJ: "Ya didn't deserve what happened. I know that much. Isn't that enough?"

Brett: "Would it be for you?"

MJ: "If it meant anything t'ya."

Brett: "And what is it that you want from me?"

MJ: "T'know you're okay."

Brett: "You sent me the letter weeks ago and I'm just now here with you. What does that tell you?"

MJ: "M'not askin' for forgiveness."

Brett: "It would be meaningless if you were."

MJ: "It'd be a child askin' forgiveness for the sins of the mother."

Brett: "It would be meaningless because you wouldn't know what you were asking forgiveness for."

MJ: He placed both fists together. Exactly.

Brett: Brett’s gaze fell to the floor.

So. This was it. This was as close to closure as he was ever going to get. He got to feel unclean for the rest of his life and have nightmares and panic attacks while the person who made him this way got...nothing. MJ got to be a whole new person, free of the burden of that night while Brett was left to shoulder it alone.

He didn’t know what he’d been expecting or if he was really expecting anything. It wasn’t like he had any reason to. That night had broken him in a thousand different ways but he was fully aware that from a vampire’s perspective, the whole thing had been his fault. For refusing. For being difficult. For believing, just for a moment, that he was a person who had the luxury of saying no. Life had already taught him that that wasn’t a word he could say anymore. He was a ghoul.

And ghouls didn’t get to say no.

Brett sighed. “I don’t know what else to say.”

MJ: "Ya ain't - Ya don't have t'say anything else. I'm... I'm glad ya let this happen. Us," he motioned between them, "but this wasn't for me. If someone did what - I want ya t'feel... safe again? I had a whole speech planned out, but I can't. That shit feels empty."

Brett: He shook his head. “I don’t. Feel safe. Not anymore, not for months.” Despite his progress, he still had bad days. When those bad days were really bad, they led to bad weeks.

The scent of lavender or pumpkin, a stranger touching him in public, a nightmare, a shadow on the kitchen tile out of the corner of his eye, the sight of blood; it felt like anything was liable to set it off.

MJ: "What d'ya want me t'do, Brett?"

Brett: That was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it? What could MJ do that would change anything?

Brett sighed. “Unless you’ve got a time machine...nothing. This is for me to deal with.”

MJ: "I ain't got one of them. Don't think it'd do ya good." Without thinking, he rubbed the back of his head. A tingle there akin to an itch.

Brett: “Sure as hell wouldn’t hurt.”

MJ: "How long's it been? What ya do since then? Ya'd lose all that."

Brett: “That’s easy to say for someone with no memory,” Brett said to the floor.

MJ: "Yeah, but I still got people."

Brett: Good for you, he thought, sounding sarcastic even in his mind. Why was he still here? There was nothing more to say, and they'd established there was nothing more to do.

He'd done it, he'd faced his demons, and all he'd gotten was the knowledge that his demons had gotten off scot-free. It was, as he'd said, for him to deal with.

Away from here.

"I'd like to go home now," Brett said, turning his head toward Guildias but not looking at him. He felt...defeated. Sounded it, too.

MJ/Guildias: "No one here will stop you," Guildias said. This was all for Brett Parker's peace of mind. Face the fear, as he'd encouraged for months. This chapter had finally reached its end.

MJ nodded, felt the safest route was stillness. Let Brett command the room and leave at his own accord.

"If ya wanna talk, or need me t'do somethin', ya got my number."

Brett: Brett acknowledged both of them with a nod and got to his feet. He couldn’t conceive of a situation where he’d want to turn to MJ for a favor or sympathetic ear, not now. Perhaps not even in the near future. But he supposed the offer counted for something in some cosmic sense.

That was about as much graciousness as he could muster at the moment.

He gave a sedate farewell to his domitor, gave MJ a vague grunt of acknowledgement, and let himself out, giving the couch where MJ sat as wide a berth as he could without clinging to the wall.

He wasn’t up for company, didn’t want to bring this mood and this...this home to Bo. So he’d drive around until he could find someplace quiet to be with his thoughts where no one would talk to him.

[minimitchell]

callumhighwayweek day 4 - “you’re not jealous, are you?” (ao3 link)

.

Callum likes working at ‘Roasted’. It’s a nice enough job, the pay is better than with most student jobs around here and he meets lots of interesting people. Granted, a lot of them are kind of snobby and definitely a lot more of the hipster variety than what he’s used to, coming from the East End and all, but it is a fun job.

And it’s not like he’s going to be here forever.

He started working at the coffee shop in his second year of Uni, having seen their job listing for a barista on Instagram of all places. It’s pretty on par for the shop though. The owners, an older, alternative couple he’s only met a handful of times, are living in Bali for the better part of the year and the coffee shop is mostly being managed by their daughter. She’s laid back and funny and a really great boss.

And Callum has learned a lot in the last year and a half he’s been working here. He’d only done bar work in the past, pulling pints and washing dirty glasses, but he genuinely likes being a barista. He feels good whenever he remembers an order from someone who comes in regularly, he likes seeing their faces when they discover some new latte art he practiced and he doesn’t even mind serving teen girls for the sole purpose of them taking a picture with their names on their cups afterwards.

He likes it because he likes making people feel good, even if it’s just with a coffee, and he likes putting a little smile on their faces - and it also doesn’t hurt that he gets free drinks and free cake samples all day long.

“And a wonderful day to my favorite colleague as well.”

Oh yeah, there’s also Ben.

Ben had started two months before Callum even got the job here but by the time Callum had completed his training, Ben was already working like a seasoned pro.

He’s also in his last year at Uni, but he’s in a completely different department than Callum is. He’s a business major, spending most of his time across campus from Callum, who’s studying social work. On paper, they shouldn’t really get along considering their wildly different interests and plans for their future jobs, but they immediately clicked.

At one point during a quiet shift they got talking about their aspirations and Ben had told him he’s planning to take over his dad’s businesses when he’s done with Uni and maybe even expand them further. Callum thinks Ben can easily do that; he’s dead smart.

He’s also devastatingly handsome, as Callum noticed the very first time they met. Ben has these captivating blue eyes and an easy, welcoming smirk on his face at all times. He’s definitely a people person, able to make easy chit chat with just about anyone that comes in. He has this aura of confidence and assurance around him but it doesn’t make him come across as arrogant, not at all.

They spend most of their shifts together talking or teasing one another when they aren’t swamped with work. Ben likes to try almost every cake they’re offering that day, feeding little bites to Callum when he deems it ‘worthy enough for him’ and Callum likes to use Ben as a guinea pig for his latte art, trying out new designs or perfecting his existing one’s.

And when business is slow or when they’re about ready to close up in the evening, they get to talk with one another. What started with them talking about their degrees and course work quickly moved onto deeper and more substantial topics. 

Callum talks about being the first person in his family to go to Uni and the pressure he feels on himself because of that. He tells Ben about his desire to make a difference in the world, to help children who come from the same rough parts as himself. Ben on the other hand talks about his family a lot, about the need to prove himself in a big family you otherwise get lost in, about the feeling that he needs to compensate for his dad’s disapproval.

Disapproval stemming from the fact that he’s gay.

Yeah, he told Callum about that as well. It was a small revelation to him and Callum couldn’t help but tell him it’s the same for him. It feels like a new, deeper, level to their friendship.

It’s also the full source of Callum’s misery.

Because before this revelation, Callum could accept that the little infatuation he’s developed for Ben was entirely for nought. He was under no impression that this crush was ever going to be reciprocated because, to be completely honest, Callum had just assumed that Ben’s straight.

But since he knows that this isn’t the case at all, it almost feels like his crush has doubled or tripled in size; like maybe it has grown even more because there’s now this tiny, traitorous voice whispering that there might be a chance for them. Assuming he’d ever actually have the courage to ask Ben out.

He hasn’t so far; every time he even thinks about asking Ben to go out with him he chickens out in the end, afraid that Ben will laugh at him. Or even worse, that he’ll never want to work with him ever again. Because while he does like working here, he likes it even better when he’s working alongside Ben.

“How did your exam go?”

Ben joins him behind the counter, going to wash his hands before he starts taking over for Callum behind the till. He’s wearing a black polo underneath his burgundy apron and his hair is nicely tousled; Callum is itching to run his hands through it.

“Aced it. Hopefully.”

He pulls a face, trying to play it cool even though they both know Ben understands Advanced Marketing better than most people in his course. Callum didn’t expect anything less than an ace from Ben.

“‘Course you did.”

Ben sends him a wink, strolling over to the display counter and observing what they have on offer today. There’s a fresh carrot cake there Callum’s dying to share with Ben later. He steps next to Callum behind the till, logging in with his cashier number once Callum signs off and the way he rests his hand on Callum’s lower back while doing so, makes his heart throb in his chest, hammering all the way up into his throat.

Maybe today is the day he finally has the guts to ask Ben out on a date.

The shop gets busy shortly after Ben gets here and they don’t even really have time to get a breath in-between all the coffee and cake orders they have to prepare. It’s a fairly small shop and only two people are always scheduled to work on weekdays so they’re busy until the midday and after-work rushes are over.

Callum saves the last piece of carrot cake for Ben - even though their manager always yells at them for not giving everything to the paying customers - and Callum is just about to get it from the stock room to surprise Ben with it when this guy leans on the counter in front of the till.

He’s seen him before a couple times - tall caramel latte, Callum thinks. He doesn’t look much older than him and Ben, probably a fellow student, and Callum doesn’t like him for the sole reason that he always flirts with Ben when he comes in, trying to make him laugh or smile bashfully at the ground.

Callum hates even more that it works most of the time.

It’s no different this time. The guy says something that makes Ben laugh, making a show of dropping a five pound note into their tip jar after he’s paid just so Ben can see him do it and leers after him when Ben goes to make the drink for him.

He leaves with a wink in Ben’s direction afterwards and Callum eats the whole piece of carrot cake by himself in the stock room as some weird form of silent protest.

.

They don’t always work together.

Ben has a lot of afternoon classes and works late or mornings, whereas Callum is almost exclusively at Uni in the mornings and comes into work afterwards. So yeah, sometimes their shifts don’t line up. And then some other times, it’s just bad luck.

Callum tries not to sulk when he hears that Ben called in sick today. He knows it’s probably nothing too bad but they’re advised to stay home at any possible sign of illness regardless, for hygienic reasons and all that.

He likes working with Keegan, who came in for Ben today, as well but he was really looking forward to seeing Ben.

It sounds dramatic but the day drags on and on without Ben here, cracking jokes and making Callum weird drink combinations to try. Callum thinks it can’t get any worse but at close to five a very familiar face walks through the door.

It’s the guy who always flirts with Ben and Callum watches from behind the counter as he scans the area, looking around to see if he can spot Ben presumably. Callum almost feels bad for the devilish glee coursing through him at the knowledge that he won’t be successful today.

“Hi, what can I get you?”

Callum is trying hard to stay composed and give at least the impression that he’s being friendly. The guy gives him a barely-there smile, obviously not very interested in making a good impression on anyone other than Ben.

“I was wondering if Ben is working today?”

“Sorry, I can’t give out that kind of information.”

He tries not to revel in the eye roll the guy gives him but it’s hard not to. Yes, it’s incredibly petty but Callum can’t help it, he’d rather work the morning shift every day for a whole month than see Ben go out with this cocky prick.

The guy heaves a sigh and gives his order - one tall caramel latte just like Callum thought it was - and Callum punches it in for Keegan to prepare. Callum tells the guy his total and waits until he presses his card against the reader, nodding when the transaction goes through.

Callum thinks he’s about to put money in the tip jar but instead, the guy fishes a white business card out of his trouser pocket and slides it across the counter towards Callum.

“Can you give this to Ben? My number is on the back.”

He doesn’t wait for Callum to take it or even agree, moving along the counter to get his drink from Keegan. Callum tries not to openly show his annoyance at the bloke, grabbing the card and stuffing it into the pocket of his apron.

Over the next few hours he forgets all about the little piece of paper still hiding in the fabric of his apron. He’s cleaning the appliances, waiting for Keegan to be done with mopping the floor so they can close up for the day, when he realizes the business card is still in his possession.

He pulls it out of his pocket, looking at the bland text written across it in bold letters. Which student even carries a business card around with them? Even his name is obnoxious - Tristan, ugh. He doesn’t even feel bad when he, completely accidentally of course, lets the card fall, watching it sink to the bottom of the trash bag and getting covered by the old coffee grounds a moment later.

Oops.

.

Callum forgets all about Tristan and his stupid little business card, mostly because his next two shifts are spend with Ben again. To be completely honest, Callum could probably forget anything else around him exists whenever he’s in a room with Ben; it’s gotten that bad for him.

He’s completely determined to ask Ben out today, spurred on by the all of a sudden very real chance that someone else might get there before he can, and he doesn’t want to risk that. He’s been in love with the guy for close to a year now, he won’t waste another day.

Callum is in the back room, restocking the cups and lids before the evening rush begins when he hears Ben laughing at something behind the counter. He pokes his head through the door to see what’s so funny, but he doesn’t feel like laughing at all when he sees bloody Tristan standing there, arrogantly smiling at Ben.

He’s too busy seething at the fact he probably missed his chance with Ben now, can already see Ben accepting the number and going on dates and probably falling head over heels for this stupid guy, to remember he chucked the guy’s number in the bin. The one, he’s apparently asking about judging by Ben’s confused face and slight head tilt.

The distance between the stock room and the till is too great to make out any coherent words so he doesn’t know what Ben is saying in return, but it’s pretty clear this Tristan guy will throw him under the bus any moment now. God, how is he going to explain this to Ben when he inevitably asks why Callum didn’t forward the guy’s number? This is so not how he wanted this to go today; he could cry at the thought alone.

Ben turns his head to look in his direction and Callum has to duck back into the room in a flash, praying that Ben didn’t see him spying on his conversation just now.

He isn’t exactly proud of hiding in here afterwards, waiting for Tristan to leave and just staring at the different sized lids and brown paper cups with their logo emblazoned on the side. It’s definitely the most cowardly thing to do but Callum honestly feels like crying right now. He can’t bear to hear the guy he’s so stupidly in love with talk about going out with someone else; he just can’t do it.

It hurts knowing he’s never going to get the chance to make Ben see how perfect they could be for each other. Because he just knows he could make him so, so happy; Callum’s sure of that. He feels it deep in his chest, right where his heart is slowly twisting and turning.

“So, uh, you got something you wanna give me?”

The sudden shock at hearing Ben’s voice right behind him makes Callum flail his arms around, knocking over a whole stack of lids and sending them cluttering to the ground right in front of Ben’s shoes. He doesn’t really know what to say, whether he should admit he’s thrown the number away in a fit of pure jealousy or not, and the conflict must show on his face because Ben immediately takes pity on him.

“I told him we hadn’t seen each other since then so you didn’t have the chance to give it to me.”

“Thanks.”

The ground seems much more interesting to him than Ben’s expectant face right now and he’s scuffing his shoe along one of the many stains littering the light grey linoleum. Ben tries to catch his eyes, leaning down to enter Callum’s eyesight.

“Are you gonna tell me why you didn’t?”

Callum remains silent, only giving Ben a slight shrug in response to his question. Ben waits him out though, leaning against the doorframe until Callum finally sighs and meets Ben’s eyes. Time to get it out, he reckons.

He’s about to confess, to lay his feelings bare, when Ben preempts him.

“You’re not jealous, are you?”

His voice is light and joking but there’s an undertone to it. Something that sounds almost daring and hopeful; like the prospect of Callum being jealous of someone wanting to ask him out doesn’t annoy Ben but that he’s actually maybe hoping it’s true.

The thought makes Callum pause, taking in the slight smile on Ben’s face and the bright sparkle in his eyes. It makes him brave enough to finally admit his feelings, to finally take that plunge into the unknown, uncertain.

“I was working up the courage to ask you out for weeks now, months even.”

Ben’s smile stretches out across his face, transforming his face into something even more beautiful than normal. He takes a step towards Callum, tangling his hands around the straps of Callum’s apron, pulling him further into his own body.

“So ask me.”

Ben is smiling up at him, his fingers running up and down the skin underneath the straps and he feels the touch burn through his shirt. He looks loved up for lack of a better term and Callum has the brief thought that they could’ve spent so much time being with each other already, but it doesn’t really matter now. They got there anyway.

“Will you go on a date with me?”

“Yeah. Definitely.”

Ben pulls him down against him, sealing their lips together in a careful kiss. It’s the most perfect thing Callum’s ever tasted, ever felt in his entire life. His hands settle on both sides of Ben’s face, guiding him back onto his lips again and again and again. Until their lips are red and puffy and customers are yelling to be served.

They get fired two weeks later for spending a little too much time in the stock room. 

It’s worth it.

[blutopaz15]

How about "You're a softie", or rather "Ye're a softie" ?

Ackk!! This took me SO long to get to, I’m sorry!! It ~did~ turn into practically a whole oneshot though, so woooo! hope you enjoy ;)

also oops I lost the initial prompt post so I forget which number this is lol

#??: “You're a softie.”

Callum wasn’t exactly sure what he’d been expecting when Rayla had banished him from their room, saying that she had a “surprise” for him, but it certainly hadn’t been this.

She’d beaten him back there by a longshot. The “super short” evening audience that one of Ezran’s advisors had requested was not super or short by any means, and by the time Callum had traipsed back to their room, feet dragging and head foggy, she was already ready for bed. When the heavy door creaked open, though, rather than remaining comfortably and impatiently cross-legged on the edge of his matress, ready to curl up with him for a little bit before bedtime as usual, she’d popped up off his bed, shoved his pajamas into his arms, and quickly ushered him towards the washroom.

“Uh, okay,” he’d responded, curiosity over what she was up to clearing the fog from his mind. He deliberately leaned his weight into hers, stalling as she pushed him towards the door so he could ask: “What’s all this about?”  

“I have a surprise for you!” Her voice had his favorite teasing cadence to it, and Callum felt a little flutter of anticipation, warm and pleasant, in his chest. 

Satisfied and eager from the answer, Callum stopped resisting just as she shifted her hands from his shoulders to his waist and pressed her weight more insistently against him. This successfully sent him stumbling through the open washroom door. She gave him one more direction, accompanied first by a smile that was softer than he would’ve expected and then her lips on his cheek, before she sharply shut him away back there. 

“Ten minutes,” she said.

The typical draw of their evenings spent together was amplified by the promise of whatever surprise she was assembling out there, and Callum realized that he might’ve been a little too eager when he called out to her through the door for the first time—his face already washed, his teeth already brushed, his limbs already pajama-clad—and got an exasperated sigh in response. He tried once more, twice more, then thrice more before—at long last—she finally confirmed that he could enter.

The washroom door swung open wide, and there, at the center of the room, was Rayla on the floor, surrounded by what seemed to be every spare pillow and blanket in the castle, beaming at him, eyes shining and bright.

Callum grinned back at her, his head cocked to the side as his shoulder hit the doorframe. “What’s all this?” he asked, nodding at the piles of pillows she was nestled between.

Rayla’s nose wrinkled up as she lobbed the blue cushion laying across her lap at him, and he was pretty sure—as he held up his hands to knock it away from his face—that he’d never seen her smile so wide.

“Sleepover!” Rayla flung her arms open, gesturing towards the multi-color mountains all around her. “Last night you were saying how you wished I didn’t have to go back to my bed, and this isn’t technically sleeping in the same bed so…”

He bent to pick up the blue pillow and tossed it back to her—gently. That was a pillow-fight he would—absolutely, without a doubt, for sure—lose. She caught it—of course—and laid it back over her legs.

“I’m pretty sure this is still against the rules,” he said, shrugging at her, still in the doorway...trying to decide if he cared enough about those rules to deny her. 

Opeli’s ‘no sleeping in the same bed’ rule probably translated to ‘don’t sleep next to each other’ too, Callum thought. Though...he was pretty sure it also translated to ‘don’t lie in the same bed’...a rule which they’d been breaking daily...

But, attendants never came in to check on them in the evenings when they were bending those rules. The mornings were a different story, though: someone was always bustling in first thing, earlier than they could ever have a hope of waking up to separate themselves first, and Callum had to wonder if that was Opeli’s specific bidding.

Still though...like Rayla had said...technically…

“...and we care why, exactly?” Rayla asked, an eyebrow raised, arms crossed, outwardly annoyed. Callum could see, though, that his hesitation—which wasn’t really his anyway—had hurt her.

Pre-bedtime pillow fort cuddles—no beds or sleeping involved—probably wouldn’t break any rules, Callum figured, even if their luck changed and they got caught.

Though, maybe, he considered, the strictest translation of Opeli’s rule might be that they just weren’t supposed to lie down with each other at all…

Rayla was frowning now.

He took a few steps closer before turning his back, spreading his arms, and collapsing back onto the stacks of pillows next to her. When he peeked an eye open, Rayla chuckled softly, reaching for the hand that’d fallen across her knees.

“Dummy.”

She looked over her shoulder and down at him, appearing not quite as deflated. Callum leaned on his elbow to offer up an explanation. 

“I’m just saying, Rayla, I really don’t want to have to explain it to Ezran if Opeli separates us.” He’d meant that to be lighthearted...but it was also very true. He winced theatrically, and Rayla smiled back, rolling her eyes and squeezing at his fingers. When she stopped shaking her head at him, what she wanted was still lingering in the way she looked at him. She eased herself down by his side, matching his pose.

“Callum...please? Just for tonight?” The sincerity in the way her brow furrowed tugged at him...and she knew it. That teasing rhythm was back in her voice when she went on, her stare so very sweet. “Come on, you know you want to! It’ll be fun! The ‘it’s not a bed’ excuse will definitely work at least once.”

That was probably true, Callum admitted to himself. It was possible—likely, actually—that Opeli wouldn’t be happy about their rule-bending, but...feigning innocence was a possibility…

Plus...it’d be so nice to wake up at Rayla’s side. Her arms heavy with sleep and draped over him...her warm breath on his cheek...her lips parted and perfectly within kissing range…

Like she could see his resolve weakening, a mischievous smile crawled across Rayla’s lips. 

“How can I convince you? We can snuggle all night! I’ll let you be little spoon?” She rocked closer, still up on her elbow like he was, and pressed a kiss, brief and enthusiastic, to his lips. When she pulled away and her eyes opened...she didn’t even need to tag on the last incentive. “Mmm, I don’t know, what else do you want? Anything!” 

It wasn’t quite heat in her eyes...more like...a spark. An offer of heat. 

A similar heat very quickly filled in underneath his collar, across his cheeks.

“Yeah, the answer to that question is definitely against the rules,” he laughed, eyes wandering to the ceiling before he smiled at her. “But...fine. Sleepover. If we get caught, though, you’re going to be the one who explains to Ez what Opeli is so worried about.” 

Rayla’s hand wrapped around his almost as soon as Callum started poking a finger at her to go with the dramatized sternness of his stare, and, before he knew it, she’d used that leverage to knock him flat on his back. Rayla’s arms looped around his neck, her chest pressing him into the floor, and she was still for a moment, just holding him near. Her lips landed in his hair.

She stayed close to whisper, giggling in his ear. “You’re such a softie, Callum.”

“Maybe so,” Callum conceded, turning to press a clumsy kiss to her jaw before nuzzling closer, his lips drifting down to place tonight’s first of what he intended to be many kisses against her neck. “I was promised anything I want, though.”

The sigh she made wasn’t all that loud when he kissed her again—this time just under her ear, the skin there exceptionally warm and smooth—but Callum could feel it vibrate in her chest, and he was sure that she could feel the way he shuddered, too, as her fingertips ran along his spine.

“I thought you didn’t want to break any rules?”

[chloe-clegane]

Rayla seeing Callum around children then going “ oh shit “ then later saying to him naked “ let’s make a fucking baby bitch”

hahaha guessing this is a prompt request? Sure why not, I pretty much never turn down a chance to write smut, tralalalala 

This specific prompt is a little different than my personal headcanon but I love this prompt sooooooo. 

-------------------------

They spent the entire day welcoming guests in the receiving line. The summit was turning out to be larger than expected. It was amazing to see so many humans and elves together, sharing ideas and embracing a positive future. Ezran had had the idea of encouraging the ambassadors and guests to bring their families. The idea was that children are the future so there was no better way to support a unified future than bringing it together. Somehow during the overwhelming line of people, Callum ended up wandering away. All the formal interaction was exhausting, it was his specialty, not hers. So by the end of it, she was feeling frustrated and maybe a little resentful.

She went looking for him and had to stop when she saw what he was doing. He’d apparently been pulled away somehow by children. It looked like he was instructing them on some human game, it involved yelling goose and then running around in a circle. She’d never heard of it. Most of the elf children seemed to be catching on quickly and there was a lot of giggling and happy screaming.

Rayla stood and watched from afar, it was surprisingly captivating. He was so good with them, giving them his attention, speaking kindly. Then suddenly he ran, panicked when a little sunfire girl fell. She began to cry, but when Callum knelt beside her and looked at the skinned knee he managed to soothed her quickly. His face was so sweet and calm when he spoke to the little girl. He was so gentle. 

The parents had apparently heard their daughter and rushed over but by the time they got there he’d already encouraged her and she run back into the game with a smile on her face. 

When he stood he turned and spoke to the parents it was another kind interaction. They seemed impressed and grateful. The couple also had a baby, the woman held him up for Callum to see and he cooed and made faces and the baby giggled. It was heartwarming to see and it was more evidence that Callum would be an amazing father. It wasn’t the first time she’d thought that. Over the years there’d been similar moments like this one. And they’d talked about having children before they were married. But hey had never decided when.

But in that moment something changed in her, her heartstrings pulled and a longing warmed her chest. What happened next was impulsive. She gracefully maneuvered through the crowded courtyard and placed her hand on his back to get his attention. He turned, smiled, and kissed her but before he could say anything she leaned forward and whispered.

“Can we get away fer a we bit, that was exhaustin’ and I want tae rest before the feast,” the truth was she didn’t want to rest. Recharge herself maybe, but not rest.

“yeah ok,” he agreed with a smile. He made a quick look around for their exit and waved goodbye to the group children.

Keep reading for shameless Rayllum Smut! 

When they made it into the room they both shed their circlets with a sigh of relief. Callum slipped out of his jacket and spoke with his back turned to her. 

“I think today went really great. Ez’s idea of having the families is working out so well!” He spoke with excitement and unlaced his boots. She had already kicked off her shoes and was already working the buttons on her dress. He continued to talk as he looked out the window down at the still bustling courtyard. She had finished stripping and stood completely naked. 

“Callum, I want a family,” she said confidently. He turned to look at her with a confused face that quickly turned into a surprised grin. 

“Heeeey I thought you wanted to take a nap,” he chuckled and smiled flirty. It seemed that her nudity and bedroom eyes caused him to forget what she just said.

“Nope, I want somethin’ else,” she replied, trying to suppress the giddiness in her voice. She wanted to come off cool and seductive. 

“Yeah, I kind of gathered that from the beautifully naked surprise part but isn’t it a little close to the full moo-” Before he could finish she interrupted.

“I want a baby,” she aimed for confidence again. He was taken aback and was clearly trying to gather is thoughts. But she went on with surprising conviction. “I want tae make a baby right now,” she emphasized by pointing at the ground. His eyes were wide and he still didn’t speak, she could feel nerves creeping into the silence. “Callum?”. She realized she was holding her breath when finally he nodded a few times and then smiled. 

“Yes, yeah, ok” he said eagerly but still surprised and wide eyed.

Then Rayla rushed to him and jumped into his arms, he caught her and she wrapped her legs around his waist and started kissing him hungrily. He walked them over to the bed and they tumbled down Together. 

In a joined effort they quickly stripped him. Once he was naked on top of her they rolled and kissed, occasionally nipping at each other's necks and groping. Rayla reached down between them and stroked his hard cock, he groaned. Callum was propping himself up with one arm and kneading her breast with the other. They were both moaned softly. Rayla could feel the warm pulsing need between her legs and the slide of precum on the palm of her hand which only added to her desire. 

He shifted his hand between her legs and she arched her back to meet it. She was slick and ready, and his finger slipped inside her effortlessly. It made her spine tingle and she moaned. Usually she would savor his foreplay but that’s not what she wanted this time. “Callum, please,” her voice was breathy

She let go of his hard erection and reached up to grab his face instead. Rayla pulled him down for a purposeful tender kiss that he stopped and returned. The kiss was sweet and loving, just like him. She pulled away and looked into his beautiful green eyes, she loved those eyes. Callum was it for her, the love of her life, her husband and now, maybe something more. Maybe the father of her children. Nerves and excitement were fluttering in her chest. “Callum,” she couldn’t help the smile on her face. “Do it, put a baby in me” 

He laughed, happy and incredibly cute, he kissed her again and it left her with a feeling of joy that left her light as air. 

“I love you Rayla, so much,” and with that he back in action and lined himself up and slid slowly and purposefully inside her. Rayla couldn’t stop the humming moan. He kissed her neck and muttered into her ear “let’s make a baby then,” she could feel his smile against her skin and she had one to match. 

Callum started pumping into her, focused and steady he was keeping a rhythm  for her and she was incredibly appreciative. The consistent sensation of his strokes where like a set of stairs and each step brought her slowly higher. Rayla held him close and grazed her nails up and down his back while a hum flowed from her lips. He was letting out low moans. The way their bodies made contact sent pings of pleasure through her middle. 

He pulled himself up and lifted her right leg over his shoulder. Rayla felt the change in depth immediately, he was deeper and she moaned her approval, she moaned his name. His steady pumps started to become more erratic and forceful. Her steps had become leaps and tumbles up the slope, the pleasure still rising. 

“Oh Rayla,” he said her name in supplication. Callum lifted her other leg to rest on his other shoulder and when he pumped he buried himself in her and she gasped loudly. Rayla could feel the pressing of his very hard, very satisfying member. He was pressing something deep inside her, and the steps became bursts. Each thrust of his cock brushing against her cervix and pushed gasping oh’s from her lungs. It was a different pleasure than the warm building orgasm he could rub from her clitoris. This was electricity surging from her center into every corner of her body. 

He had become steady again, careful not to push to hard. Her toes were curling and her head was thrown back, she couldn’t focus her eyes as each pump sent shock waves. He was moaning loudly and Rayla knew she wasn’t very quiet either. She could feel her body tightening and Callum reacted to it with hitched breath, and gasped his words. 

“I’m going. to give you. what you want. Rayla. I want to. give you. everything.”

That pushed her over, his love and his thrusts, it all exploded inside her and she felt herself shake from head to toe. A loud cry burst from her lips. Waves of pleasure rippled. He thrust and groaned four more times before crying out and releasing deep inside her. 

She had barely recovered, barely landed back into reality when he went slack. She slid her legs down and pulled him close onto her and kissed him. They both caught their breath and she rolled her sweet, exhausted, adorable human onto his back and curled in under his arm. For a few moments she laid in his arms and listened to his heart as it relaxed into a resting rhythm. 

“Rayla?” he said her name warmly

“Hmm?” she turned to look at his soft affectionate smile. 

“I think I need big feelings time,” he reached and brushed hair away from her eyes.

“Oh really? Is it because I blew yer mind by bein’ so overwhelmin’ly sexy?” she teased and he laughed.

“Well yes, always. But I... I don’t know if I’ve ever been this excited and nervous at the same time about anything before, or maybe I have but this is in a weird new way. And uh, I was not expecting this and didn’t emotionally prepare myself at all.” his face was hard to read and she immediately worried he was regretting this. That she shouldn’t have sprung such an important decision on him so impulsively. 

All she said was “oh”. He picked up her concern instantly. 

“Rayla no not like that, not at all, I-I,” he pulled her in and kissed her. “I’m exctatic, I think I’m just... kind of in shock that we’re doing this. It’s happening and it’s not a drill,” he said excitedly. 

All her anxieties evaporated and she grinned “wellllllI we don’t know it’s happenin' now, we’ve still got three days till the full moon,” she nuzzled closer into him, loving the feel of his warm skin on hers as she still enjoys the phantom sensation of her full body orgasm.

“That’s fine, I see no problem with that, it just means I need to fill you up” he wiggled his eyebrows playfully “several more times in the next few day, many more times over the next week, just to be safe,” he rolled on top of her again and peppered kisses all over face. “You should know by now, If nothing else I am persistent.”

“this is true, mage” she hummed happily as she caressed his cheek, “I love ye Callum”

“I love you too Rayla, more than anything,” he

After that they kissed and talked and eventually nodded off until Callum rolled over and saw the sun setting outside the window. Frantically they dress and rushed to the feast which had likely already started. 

They scrambled and as the feast hall doors push open she stopped to make sure her stupid circlet was straight. That’s when she realized half of her up-do had come loose. Her eyes shot up to Callum, they were both disheveled and... there was a rather large hicky blooming on his neck. She was missing one of her stockings....

Ezran stood and called out excitedly to them from the opposite side of the room, all the guest turned.

“Shit,” Rayla and Callum both muttered through forced smiles. There was no hiding what they’d been doing.

----

Hope everyone enjoyed that. ;)

If you’ve never had a Cervical Orgasm I highly recommencement it, assuming you have a cervix. If you don’t have the necessarily equipment yourself then give one as a gift to someone who does. BUT do so carefully, always talk to your partner first and read some helpful information like this.                                                                 

[arcadialedger]

Your Soul is My Treasure — a Rayllum One- Shot

Set in my vision of season 4, Callum discovers a spell to get Runaan and Rayla’s parents out of the coins. However, Callum doesn’t get the warm parental welcome he was hoping.

“Callum-- are you sure this is going to work?” 

Rayla’s words lodged a dagger in his heart, because he wasn’t. From the moment that he and Ibis had found the fallen bag of coins on the floor of the Storm Spire, Callum had tried tirelessly to find a spell to reverse Viren’s horrific incantation.

But he didn’t want to get his hopes up, and he could tell that Rayla had been hesitant to herself. Still, he owed it to her to try. Callum knew all too well what it was to lose a parent. 

“I don’t know, Rayla,” he admitted, unable to look her in the eye, “The spell was cast with dark magic, and it might require dark magic to reverse it.”

Rayla gave his hand a squeeze, and gently turned his face to look at her own. Her light, lilac eyes were filled with both hope and sympathy. 

“Listen to me, Callum,” she said sternly, “I will not be angry if the spell doesn’t work. You understand? And we will not even consider the alternative. I do not want you risking your life with dark magic for me again.”

Callum smiled, and laced his fingers through hers. He had only a few months training. He was just a boy. Something about Rayla’s presence, however, always managed to make him feel as though he could do anything. 

“Ready to try?” Rayla asked.

Callum nodded, and Rayla released her hand. With a deep breath, Callum stepped forward and outstretched his hand, and from his fingertip drew an intricate rune of delicate swirls. Rayla let out a light gasp, entranced by the beauty of the rune. She had never understood how Callum could so effortlessly draw something so graceful, so elaborate. 

Callum closed his eyes— as he always did when he tried to connect to the arcanum— and incanted.

“Your soul is my treasure. Absolvisti te ipsum.” A gentle wind blew into the corridor, and Callum repeated the words.

“Your soul is my treasure. Absolvisti te ipsum,” he shouted, his tone more forceful and determined this time.

The wind began to increase- now swirling in a giant spiral around the perimeter of the corridor. With his arm outstretched, and his scarf blowing behind him, Rayla couldn’t helped but be awed by how powerful Callum looked. In only months time, he had come so far.

“Come on— work!” Callum cried out in frustration, “Absolvisti te ipsum. Absolvisti te ipsum!”

Rayla watched as all of the color drained from Callum’s face, and suddenly all of the hope in her heart turned to worry. 

He was pushing himself too far. 

“Callum— stop!” she yelled, but Callum could not seem to hear her. Instinctively, she went to run towards him. She made it not a step before a gust of wind caught her and blew her backwards onto the cold, stone floor. 

“NO!” she screamed, her eyes now wet with the sting of tears. She got up to her knees, as Callum shouted the spell one last time.

“ABSOLVISTI TE ISPSUM!”

The coins on the ground before Callum began to glow, and the entire corridor burst with a blinding light. 

_____

Rayla awoke to three shadows standing over her.

Her vision focused slowly— the outline of three tall figures turning to color, and then clarity, and then…

By the moon…

“Mum? Dad? Runaan?” she choked, as she slowly pulled herself back up to her feet.

“Rayla,” Tiadrin cried, and only then was Rayla able to believe it was real. Unable to hold back her sobs, Rayla engulfed her parents in a hug.

“He did it,” she remarked in disbelief, “He actually—“ 

With a jolt, of realization, Rayla pulled herself out of her parents embrace.

Callum. Where was Callum? 

Ignoring her parents, and Runaan’s inquisitive looks, Rayla raced past them.

A few feet in front of the coins— which now lay dull and empty on the stone— Callum laid crumpled on the floor.

“No, no, no, CALLUM!” Rayla cried. Unconcerned about her parents watching, she ran and dropped to her knees beside him.  When she grasped his hand, it was cold, and clammy.

Tears began to roll down her cheeks, and she clasped his hand tighter, “You have to stay with me, Callum.”

Rayla rubbed her hands together, and placed them tenderly against his forehead. He was so cold…

“You know I couldn’t bear losing you, you big dummy,” she whispered, “You have to stay with me.”

Slowly, Rayla bent down to give him a kiss on his forehead. 

Then his green eyes shot open, and he sat upward with a start. 

“Rayla?” he croaked, his mouth curl into a stupid grin which she wanted to kiss a million times over, “Did it work?”

Rayla let out a sob of elatement, and tackled him in a big hug.

“You always wake up at the worst time,” she laugh, her tears dripping down onto his jacket shoulder, “Don’t scare me like that.”

Callum laughed, and hugged her tightly back, before kissing her gently on the forehead, “I’m sorry I scared you. I’m okay now.”

“Rayla,” a called said from behind her—  Lain— “What is going on? Why are you with this… human?”

Callum looked at Rayla, eyes wide.

“It worked,” she says quietly, a smile spreading across her lips, “You did it.”

Callum’s eyed widened to a beam— his happiness for her happiness so pure and clear. 

With one quick squeeze of Rayla’s hand, Callum stood up to look at Tiadrin, Lain, and Runaan. 

“Hello,” Callum announced, as he raised his hand to a dorkish wave, “I’m Callum, the, er, human. Nice to meet y—“

Before Callum could finish his sentence, Runaan lunged forward in a blur of motion. Callum found himself pressed up against the stone wall, his lifted up so he was eye to eye with Runaan. The cold steel of Runaan’s blade pressed his throat. 

“Runaan, don’t!” Rayla yelped, “Don’t hurt him!”

“He’s the crown prince!” Runaan snarled, “Why shouldn’t I?”

“Because he’s my friend,” Rayla explained, thinking back to her conversation with Sol Regem, “Runaan, he and King Ezran helped return Zym to his mother. They’re good! Runaan, Callum risked everything to save you and my parents. For me.”

Runaan’s eyes dawned with realization. Slowly, his grip of Callum loosened as he let him gently back onto the floor. 

“He did dark magic,” Tiadrin remarked, her eyes narrowed with skepticism, “To release us. He’s a human!”

“I practice primal magic,” Callum clarified, his voice raspy from Runaan’s hold on his throat, “the sky primal, specifically, although Rayla has been teaching me some moon magic as well.”

“That’s… impossible,” Tiadrin gasped, “A human can’t learn a primal!”

“It’s not impossible. Callum’s just the first” Rayla explained.

“You look just how I remember from when I casted historia viventum,” Callum remarked, as he looked at Tiadrin and Lain, “You look so much like your mother, Rayla!”

“Rayla,” I will not ask again, sneered Lain, his eyes cast at Callum in disgust, “We are gone for years, and we wake to find you with a filthy, disgusting human. They hate us, Rayla!”

Rayla’s brows furrow in anger, 

“How dare you, dad? How dare you insult Callum after he saved you. Everything we knew about humans is wrong, father. Yes, some are bad, but no more than us. Callum and the people of Katolis put aside the prejudices they learned about us when he met me— can you please do the same? Callum is not a filthy human, dad. He’s smart, brave, talented, funny, caring, and meeting him has been the best thing that ever happened to me. So please, give him a chance because I love him and I know you can grow to love him too.”

Out of breathe by the end of her passionate speech, Rayla gasped, as the full reality of everything she just said truly processed. Lain and Tiadrin stared at her in shocked silence.

“It’s true,” Callum added, “Elves and humans— we don’t have to hate each other. Things are changing.”

Tiadrin and Lain slowly turned to each other. After a moment of silence conversation and a nod, they stepped forward to their daughter.

“My Rayla,” remarked Tiadrin, “You have grown a lot. Haven’t you?”

Rayla’s heart sobbed with relief, and she nodded. 

“Yes, I have,” she agreed.

“And you were never one to follow convention,” Lain adds, “You couldn’t have just found a nice Moonshadow boy and joined the Dragonguard together, could you?”

“I was banished,” Rayla stated flatly, to which Runaan lowered his head in shame, “This is my home now. Callum, Ezran, and Zym— they’re my home now.”

Callum, who had quietly walked up to stand beside Rayla, put a comforting hand on her shoulder. 

“We visited Ethari,” he mentioned. Runaan’s downcast eyes moved upward to meet Callum’s at the sound of his husband’s name, “He misses you, Runaan. He… he thinks you’re dead.”

“My flower,” realized Runaan, “When Viren cast his spell, it…”

Rayla nodded, “It sank. Mine was the only one left.”

Callum could see the glimmer of tears in Runaan’s eyes. Stoic as ever, however, the elf held them back.

“Runaan, he’s going to be so happy to see you again,” Callum insisted, and “And I’m so happy to meet you, Tiadrin and Lain. Your daughter is the most incredible person I’ve ever met. I can already see how much you she has in her.”

Lain gulped, and turned to speak to Rayla.

“You understand, Rayla, that this is going to take some… getting used to,” he stated. 

“I understand,” Rayla assured, “It’s just… I have my old family back, and Callum has lost all of his parents— his father, his mother, and his step father.”

Runaan flinched, yet Rayla continued, “But we’re all here now, and I was hoping we could form a new one. Together.”

Tiadrin smiled, and took Lain’s hand in her own. 

“We should all get some rest, and talk more in the morning. We’ve much to discuss.”

“You may rest,” declared Runaan, “I am leaving for the Silvergrove. My husband has waited long enough for me.”

“And you,” said Rayla, as she turned to Callum. Sensing that Rayla wanted to address him privately, Tiadrin and Lain walked off to find a place to sleep. “Should also get some rest. You’re still cold, and pale.”

“Maybe I could do mage wings?” Callum thought out loud, “The feathers could help.”

“No. No more magic for you today,” Rayla decided, “I’ll make you a fire. And here— take my cloak.”

Rayla unclasped the long, green cloak she had taken to wearing at the Storm Spire due to the cold temperatures, and draped it over Callum’s shoulders. 

“You shouldn’t have done that,” she said softly, “I almost lost you again.”

Callum gazed downward, “I know. I just— I could feel that I was so close. And my parents are gone for good, so I thought, if I could do this for you, this one thing, it would be worth it. And…”

Rayla’s brow arched quizzically, “And what.”

“Did you really mean everything you said back there?” Callum asked, “I mean, what you said to your parents. About me.”

Rayla rolled her eyes in amusement, and slung her arm over Callum’s shoulder.

“Of course I did, you dummy. Don’t you know that your soul is my treasure?”

[chilling-seavey]

Anything But Mine (d.s.) - Chapter Six

A/N in celebration of my one year as a Limelight, here’s another chapter :) (and yes I edited this picture to make him brunette again lol)

Friday, September 13th, 2019

The next week was keeping Florence busy. Grayson was preoccupied with work, and Daniel and their friends were trying to keep up with their increasing course load. Clementine had a doctor’s appointment early in the week, which she passed her check up with flying colours. Nights were getting restless for the eight month old, however, as she was quick realizing someone was never around anymore. Matt was rarely home during the day but he always had a bit of time in the mornings to sit with the baby while watching the news. The only thing that would put Clementine to sleep was his black flannel tucked into bed next to her. Every night, after Clementine was gone to bed, Florence sat alone on the balcony overlooking the city with a cup of tea and her thoughts. She often thought about what her life would have been if she stayed in LA with her family. She would be financially stable and have her brother with her - if her parents would have even kept her around after finding out about the pregnancy. There was no other option for Florence.

Friday night came around and Grayson had invited Florence over for dinner with him and Ethan. This meant she needed a babysitter for Clementine. That’s where Michael and Like came in again. Michael and Luke Clifford had been there for her (and her brother) since they first moved to Toronto and were extra supportive when Florence moved back alone, letting her stay at their house until the baby was born and she was on her feet. The men loved Clementine; never complaining about having to take care of her because after raising two boys it was nice to have a bit of a break with a little girl.

Once Grayson texted her that he had arrived, Florence had been dressed and ready for almost 45 minutes; Clementine long gone to the Clifford’s at that point.

Grayson, as usual, was stood against his car when she got to the parking garage. She had to control herself to not literally run to him. Even still, she threw her arms around his shoulders and kissed him. His pink and white striped T-shirt was soft to her touch and the quirky colours made her smile more.

“Hi.” he chuckled, opening the car door for her again.

Grayson and Ethan’s house was out of the downtown core. It was farther west of where the DiCaprio’s lived but just as north. Real estate in Toronto was not cheap and Florence was impressed by the just the fact that two nineteen-year-old’s could afford a single house there. When Grayson turned onto the private street, Florence was even more in awe by the tree lined driveway and the large, single story black painted house and matching car park. A white Jeep with black and red accents as well as a teal old style Bronco and two motorcycles sat under the car park. The sun was setting behind it, golden light spreading over the roof of the house and the paved entryway. Florence was raised in a more luxurious lifestyle than what she was looking at, but growing up on her own meant she had an appreciation for how hard money was to come by.

The double doors let into a small foyer, a hallway to the left and the living room through an open space off to the right. The natural wood tones made the place warm and comforting and had a sense of luxury to it that was far different from the DiCaprio’s.

“E!” Grayson shouted across the house. Florence startled a little bit but played it off.

Ethan came out from the hallway, dressed in a black t-shirt with a white graphic printed on it and white pants. The white designer sneakers were expected.

“It’s you again!” Ethan smiled at Florence, going right in for a hug.

Taken by surprise, Florence hesitantly hugged him back, “Nice to see you again.” she laughed.

Although identical, Ethan’s warm embrace didn’t come close to what she felt like in Grayson’s arms. She wondered how much they told each other. Did Ethan know about how she kissed his brother the same day they met? Did he know about the stories she shared? Did he know that she invited Grayson home on their first date? She told Callum everything so there was no doubt Grayson and Ethan were the same.

Embarrassment bubbling inside her at the idea of it, Florence tried to push it away, following the twins to the living room. The open ceilings revealed the peaked roof and a stone fireplace reached to the top. Two grey couches lined the room with a modern coffee table and area rug in the centre. A record player sat on an antique stereo table in the back corner. The floor to ceiling sliding glass doors at the far end of the room opened onto a tree lined backyard and glistening swimming pool that was a few steps down from a large stone porch. Florence couldn’t help but smile. She felt more at home than she had in almost a year.

The three sat around the living room, Grayson pulling her close next to him. The simple action made Florence eye Ethan shyly, not being used to such displays of affection in front of others. The older twin didn’t think much of it as he asked Florence about Clementine. Florence’s favourite topic of discussion.

Their conversations were filled with laughter and smiles, Florence feeling as light as air with the twins. Usually, in her childhood, conversations were held over glasses of wine and brandy but Florence learned that neither boy had ever had a sip of alcohol in their lives. Thinking back to her father’s short temper under a few drinks, Florence was relaxed by that fact.

It wasn’t long before they started discussing what to eat for dinner. Ethan coming in determined with a, “I was feeling pizza.”

“Sounds good to me.” Florence nodded, looking to Grayson who sat on her left.

“Sure. I can order it.” he agreed.

“Dairy free cheese though.” Ethan pipped up.

“Yes, I know.” Grayson rolled his eyes as he took out his phone to order it.

“Dairy free?” Florence crinkled her nose in Ethan’ direction.

“Yeah I’ve been dairy free for a year. It just doesn’t sit well with my skin or my stomach-“

“Yeah.” Grayson cut him off lightheartedly. “So I have to suffer too.”

“Hey!” Ethan frowned. “I have to suffer with anchovy pizza half the time so you can shut up.”

“Ew. I’d take dairy free pizza over anchovies any day.” Florence shuttered. “I just don’t understand how someone can eat them when they still look like fishies.”

“Fishies!” Ethan laughed.

Grayson chuckled, pulling the blushing girl into his side, kissing the top of her head. It only made the pink on her cheeks turn to red.

When the pizza finally arrived, they moved to the kitchen. Florence felt so comfortable with the two, feeling like she had known them for years already. Dinner finished quickly, the three of them working on the dishes together. Grayson and Ethan ended up chasing each other with wet dishcloths, seeing who could leave the biggest bruise on the other. The evening came to an end, Florence and Grayson finding themselves in his bed, watching a movie on his projector screen. He explained that he and Ethan remolded each other’s rooms and the projector was his brother’s touch. It was ultimately impressive. The movie ended but neither reached to turn it off, letting the credits roll down the wall across from the bed. Grayson had his arms around her, the white sheets tucked up to their waists.

“What’s your goal in life?” Florence whispered through the dimly lit room.

“We’re getting to the deep questions now, huh?” Grayson smirked. “Well...I want to keep working with Ethan in film and media. Maybe produce a couple movies? I want to have a family eventually. Kids for sure. Nice house but not too big. Who needs a big house anyway? Takes money away from traveling.”

Florence smiled up at him, “I love traveling.”

“Have you been to Europe?”

“Italy, England, and France. Father’s work trips.”

“Italy is my favourite.” Grayson admitted. “But I’ve always wanted to go to Norway.”

“Scandinavia looks beautiful.” Florence sighed.

They let the silence rise, their minds set across the ocean.

“Probably will never go, though.” Florence shrugged.

“Whys that?” Grayson asked.

“I would need to start saving right away and I have no job.” Florence laughed lightly like it was obvious.

“Do you want a job?”

“I mean, yeah. But I have no university degree so I won’t get far. Not Norway far.”

“I could get you something at CTV? Nothing big, probably a paid internship but it’s something?”

Florence sat up when she heard this, turning to him in shock, “You can do that for me?”

“Sure I can.” Grayson smiled gently, pressed his palm to her cheek. She leaned into him habitually. “Just to get you started.”

“That would mean so much. Thank you.” Florence whispered.

“You’re welcome.” Grayson chuckled, pulling her in to kiss her softly. “I’ll keep you posted on that.”

Florence nodded, a wide smile taking up her face.

“You have a beautiful smile.” Grayson whispered, tucking her hair behind her ear. The girl looked to her lap, not quite sure how to respond. Her fingers danced over his forearms, soaking in each beautifully chiseled curve of his skin. The trail came to an end where his neck met his jaw, light stubble reaching the surface under the soft touch of her fingertips. His dark hazel eyes watched her carefully, a beautiful honey as sweet and enticing as he was. Grayson watched her silently as her wide eyes soaked in his features, his hands holding her loosely by her waist. She forced herself not to get attached; they had only known each other barely a few weeks. But when his lips were on hers again, every thought in her mind melted away.

Grayson was gentle with her; incredibly gentle to the point that he held her like she was made of glass. He laid her back against the fluffy white bedsheets and down filled pillows, her heartbeat loud in her ears. Long minutes passed before his hand fell between their bodies. Florence grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

Breaking their kiss, she spoke, “You don’t want to do that.”

Grayson leaned back from her, “Why not?”

“I had a baby eight months ago...it is not the same down there. Matt’s told me plenty of times.” she laughed humourlessly. “Believe me, you don’t want to see it.”

“Well, no offence, but I couldn’t give two shits about what that jerk thinks.” Grayson’s kind yet obvious bluntness stunned her. “You know what I think?”

“What?” Florence ask timidly.

“I think that you grew a human in here and brought a new life into this world all on your own. That’s pretty damn incredible. Your body did that, you know? And there’s nothing that is more beautiful than that. Absolutely nothing.”

Florence didn’t know what to say except to kiss him. He knew just how to make her feel more loved than she had in her entire life.

~~

Saturday, September 14th

It was a morning like in the fairy tales; and Florence guessed that if it was possible, birds would be flit fluttering and singing beautiful music outside the large paned window. The sound was definitely not beautiful birds, however, as she awoke to a sharp buzzing. Blinking her eyes open to take in her surroundings, she merely smiled at the sight of Grayson asleep beside her. He, too, shifted at the noise, starting to wake, so Florence hurried to grab her phone from the night table. Daniel’s name flashed across the screen.

“Hey.” she answered quickly, her voice rough.

“Where are you?” Daniel’s normally gentle tone was filled with an edge and it took Florence back with surprise.

“What’s wrong?” she asked quickly, her mind instantly going to Clementine.

“Nothings wrong unless you count me sitting here in this restaurant alone like an idiot waiting for you to show up.” Daniel grumbled.

Florence pulled her phone from her ear to look at the time. 10:48 meant she was way too late to their brunch date.

“Shit, Dani, I’m so sorry.” Florence sighed, rubbing a hand over her face.

“Where are you?” Daniel asked again. “I’ve been texting and calling for 45 minutes!”

“At Grayson’s.”

The silence from the other side of the line made her stomach turn.

“So I’ll just go home then.” Daniel finally spoke, his voice suddenly quiet.

“No!” Florence sat up. “No, I’m sorry. Don’t go home. I’ll be there. 15 minutes. Please.”

“Fine.” Daniel mumbled.

“I’m sorry, Dani.” Florence sighed, closing her eyes.

“Yeah.”

The line went dead without so much as a goodbye. Florence slowly lowered her phone and started at it for a few long seconds.

“Everything okay?” Grayson asked from beside her, wrapping an arm around her waist that was covered by the blankets.

“I’m a terrible friend, is all.” Florence groaned. “Totally just stood up Daniel.”

A low chuckle fell from Grayson’s lips, “That’s rough. Are you going to go still?”

“Yeah. If he’s going to wait for me. Do you want to come?” Florence laid back down, pushing her fingers through his dark hair.

“I would love to.” Grayson smiled, pulling her close to kiss her.

“No more of this!” Florence giggled, pushing him away, before leaning down over the side of the bed to grab her clothes. “We have to go!”

Grayson drove them through the city, as fast as he could legally go. Ethan was still asleep by the time they left which Florence was silently grateful for; she liked Ethan but she wasn’t sure if she was strong enough to be at the end of brotherly teasing after staying over. Florence kept checking her phone in the passenger seat, finding no texts from Daniel their entire way there. The small cafe was just on the way into downtown, a little place near the boys’ house. Grayson parked on the street and paid the meter before they headed inside. Daniel was sat at the corner table, his green Adidas jacket zipped up to his neck and he stared down at his mug of coffee, stirring a spoon around haphazardly. Florence couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her best friend and she pulled Grayson by the hand towards him.

“Dani!” Florence called.

The boy looked up at her and what was supposed to be a smile faded into almost a straight line at the sight of the two in front of him.

“This is Grayson.” Florence introduced happily.

“Nice to meet you finally.” Grayson smiled a warm grin and held out his hand across the table. Daniel hesitated before letting the silver spoon clink against the saucer and he shook his hand.

“You too.” Daniel mumbled. Grayson and Florence sat across from him and picked up their menus. Daniel watched them silently, going back to stirring his now cold coffee. The waitress came by and took their orders and poured them coffee before leaving again. Daniel didn’t take notice, instead, his eyes fell to the collar of Florence’s t-shirt, noticing the small pink bruise that was peaking out the top. There was a matching one under her jawline which she probably hadn’t noticed in her rush to leave that morning. Daniel noticed, though. He noticed Grayson’s hand on her thigh and how he leaned in close to whisper things into her ear that made her giggle. Daniel kept stirring. The clink of the silver against the porcelain cup was consistent and comforting.

“Dani.” Florence called. When he didn’t respond she frowned for a moment but tried again. “Dan.”

She finally resorted to reaching over the table and taking the spoon out of his hand.

“I think your coffee is plenty mixed, dear.”

Snapping back to reality, Daniel met her concerned gaze.

“What’s up with you?” Florence frowned.

“Sorry. I’m just tired.” Daniel waved his hand to brush it off, slouching back against the bench.

“Been working hard?” Florence asked.

“Yeah.” Daniel nodded.

“What are you in school for?” Grayson asked.

“Music Production.” Daniel replied.

“Oh! That’s cool. I’m doing video production at CTV right now.” Grayson smiled.

“Oh my gosh, imagine if you could work together in the future!” Florence laughed.

“We might have a place for you.” Grayson sent a small grin to the boy across the table.

“I’m fine, thanks.” Daniel answered dryly. His response made Florence frown and look to Grayson who shrugged lightly.

“Dani, I’m really sorry for being late.” Florence whispered, leaning in closer. “I don’t know why you’re being so upset with me this morning.”

“I’ve been waiting here for an hour.” Daniel snapped.

Florence sat back with wide eyes at his out-of-character outburst.

“I woke up early to meet you and you completely stand me up and I’m left to eat alone.”

“I said I’m sorry. Time got away from me.” Florence frowned.

“I can tell.” Daniel eyed the hickeys on her neck.

“Daniel!” Florence whispered sharply.

He placed his napkin strongly back on the table and started to slide out from the bench. He then turned to Grayson, “It was nice to meet you. You seem like a really great guy and normally I’m not such an asshole so I’m sorry for that. But I’m late for rehearsal.”

“Daniel!” Florence gaped, watching as he stood up from the table and started for the door. “Daniel Seavey!” she called again. The door of the cafe closed behind him with a jingle from the bell above. Silence filled the space between Grayson and Florence who were now sitting alone.

 ~~

Once breakfast was finished, Grayson dropped Florence back off at home. They took their time saying goodbye but eventually Florence went up to her empty apartment. She called Daniel right away, being sent to voicemail after the second ring.

“Hey. I’m still sorry, you know.” she spoke into the phone. “Call me please. I love you.”

He didn’t return her call. 

[ahtohallan-calling]

chapter 3 of promises to keep is here!

[kristanna / 5 part 18th c scotland au / love and angst and kiltstoff in equal measure / rated t / 3.3k words this chapter / big cw for violence and death this chapter] 

masterpost

“Are you still angry with me?”

“Terribly.”

“What’ll I have to do to earn my place in your good graces again?”

She leaned back and raised her hands to cup his jaw, running her thumbs gently over the stubble there. “Come home to me safe and whole, and then swear to never leave my side again.”

chapter 3: a plea for forgiveness

She hadn’t meant to fall asleep out here.

Well, really, she hadn’t meant to be out here long enough to. In her mind, by now they would be halfway to Glenfinnan, maybe further if he’d managed to get hold of a horse, and then they’d keep going until they were out of Scotland entirely, and then maybe they could built a little cottage or find a port city and cross to Ireland or further even to the colonies, and there’d be no war nor uncle nor anything else to keep them apart.

But he hadn’t come, and now the sun had already risen, and fear swallowed the anger in her heart when she looked down from the top of the hill into the village and saw the crowd that had already gathered in the square.

Anna ran as fast as she could, the breath tearing from her lungs as she raced over the moor. The toe of her boot caught on her skirt, and she fell with a cry, skidding halfway down the hill and making a bloody, dirty mess of her shins. The second she came to a halt she was on her feet again, panting for air and praying let me make it, Jesus and Mary and God and anyone else who’s listening, let me get there in time.

She skidded to a halt next to the tailor’s shop, scanning wildly for him.It seemed the whole village was there crowding the streets, mothers straightening their son’s collars for the last time and wives clinging to their husband’s necks and little siblings enviously eyeing their brothers’ gleaming weapons. At last she laid eyes upon him where he hung back from the rest of them, his eyes cast downward as he fiddled with something in his hand, as if he wasn’t expecting a single soul to come and bid him farewell.

 “Kristoff!” she gasped, already reaching for him as she started to run once more, and immediately he looked up, eyes filling with hope as he closed the gap between them.

He caught her around the waist, lifting her slightly off her feet as she flung her arms around him. “I didn’t think you were going to come,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

“Of course I came. I love you,” she choked out, her fingers knotting in the back of his shirt.

“It’s alright, my Anna,” he said softly, cradling the back of her head as she wept against his shoulder. “Don’t cry.”

“I thought– I thought you would come last night. I waited for you.”

He pressed a kiss into her tangled hair. “I knew you would. And I knew that if I came that I’d go with you and spend the rest of my life feeling guilty for it.”

She took a deep, shuddering breath and closed her eyes, memorizing the warmth of his skin and the feel of his arms around her. “I know. But I…I was still hopeful, anyway.”

“Are you still angry with me?”

“Terribly.”

“What’ll I have to do to earn my place in your good graces again?”

She leaned back and raised her hands to cup his jaw, running her thumbs gently over the stubble there. “Come home to me safe and whole, and then swear to never leave my side again.”

“I will, I promise,” he said, and let go of her for a moment to fumble in his pocket. “And I– here, I wanted you to have this, so you can look at it, and…well.” His cheeks reddened. “I’m not good with words, but I guess you know why I want you to have it.”

He opened his palm to show her an iron ring. “Not gold yet, like I promised,” he said sheepishly, “but I made it myself, if that makes up for it.”

Anna set her fingers lightly on his palm. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered, and he smiled and slid it carefully onto the ring finger of her left hand. “How did you get it just the right size?”

“I learned how your hand fit against mine long ago, and so I…well. Wasn’t hard, really,” he said, sounding almost shy, and she couldn’t help but kiss him then, twining her arms around his neck as she rose up onto the tips of her toes.

From somewhere at the other end of the square, the pipes started playing, a marching song, and panic began to rise in her chest. She pulled back to meet his eyes and found them sadder than she had seen them since the first day they had met, when he had been a lost little boy and she was his only anchor, and she realized that somewhere along the way they had changed places.

“Don’t go,” she pleaded, feeling like a child. “Please, don’t leave me.”

“I have to, my love,” he said, leaning down to press his forehead against hers. “But I’ll come home to you, I swear it. You won’t even have time to miss me.”

“I already do,” she whispered, and he kissed her one last time and pulled regretfully away, catching her hand and giving it a squeeze before letting go.

She fell back into the crowd, tears streaming down her face, as he joined the rest of the men. They were a ragged bunch, farmers and bakers and smiths, not a soldier among them, but she knew they’d be meeting up with the rest of the MacLeod clansmen as soon as they got to Lochailort, and somehow from there they’d find the rest of the army and march south to face the English head-on. 

How many are there like me, she wondered, watching them go and wondering which of them will come home again?

Her uncle glanced back then, his eyes meeting hers. She lifted her chin defiantly, expecting a scowl, but instead, he bowed his head, sorrow flooding his face, and it occurred to her for the first time that perhaps he, too, had never wanted it to come to this. Beside him, Callum looked just as grim, though he had eyes only for his wife, cradling his son. I’ll look after them for you, Anna thought, wishing she’d thought to tell him as much aloud. You take care of what’s mine, and I’ll take care of yours.

He glanced at her then, and she gave him a firm nod. A grin broke across his face, and he saluted her before turning away again to face the road that led them all away from her.

—

Every day there was a new kind of ache in him. He was used to hard work, to be sure, perhaps more used to it than many of the other men he marched with. But the endless miles of walking, the hours of drilling, the way he caught himself tensing his jaw near-constantly, all of it meant that at night he laid awake aching for hours on his bedroll, trying not to think of how he could have been home in a bed with a wife next to him if only he’d given less of a damn about honor.

He wasn’t the only one. Many of the men had joined the army for glory and pride and love of country, while others– the ones who seemed never to stop smiling– joined for the satisfaction of sinking a blade into its target and the pleasure of warm blood running through their fingers.

But the rest of them– most of them, actually, he was coming to realize– had come because their lairds demanded it of them, or because they had mouths to feed back home, or some combination of the two, all of them burdened a sense of duty that outweighed anything else, no matter how dear it was to their hearts. At night they would sit somehow alone and together all at once, and he would see Callum running his fingers over a little portrait of his wife, and there would be Thomas who’d come all the way from Peterhead reading a faded letter for the thousandth time, and gray-haired Duncan who never stopped fiddling with his wedding band, and Kristoff would wish desperately that he’d thought to take something, anything, that he could hold onto and think of Anna, some little piece of her that reminded him why he was sitting here in the drizzling rain with a rifle beside him that still felt strange in his hands.

They had, by sheer geographic coincidence, joined up straightaway with the Bonnie Prince himself and his army. Sometimes he caught sight of him talking with the officers or joking around with his private guard or making the rounds to meet the men who were ready to die to give him back a crown. Kristoff always avoided him when he came his way; all he could think when he saw the man’s bright smile was what is it, then, that you’ve had to leave behind?

—

The forge was empty now; smith and apprentice alike had marched off together. And the miller’s wife did the best she could to keep them all fed, and the carpenter’s boy used all of his fourteen year old fury at being left behind to give him stamina though he lacked much skill, and there was no one to replace the butcher so they made do with what was left in the larder and what they could manage to pull from the river.

Aunt Nellie shut herself up the same day the men left, and Elsa was better suited to helping keep books and sorting out the mind-numbing tasks of governance, and so it fell upon Anna to go from house to house each day, doing whatever little she could to raise their occupants’ spirits.

News came so rarely that most days they just rehashed the same conversations over and over, I remember when he was knee high to a lamb and I hope his blanket’s holding up and have I ever told you how we met? And she would say yes, and now he’s the size of a bear! and I’m sure it is, yours are always of the strongest weave and no, but I’d love to hear, and it was enough, at least, to fill the silence. She felt sometimes like a rag shoved into the cracks around a door, doing whatever she could to fill the gap and stop the cold from getting too far in.

And the softer hearts among them would ask after Kristoff, too; they had all seen her say goodbye to him, and before that had seen the years they spent side by side, and she would show them the ring he’d made and tell how he’d known just how to make it without even taking the measure of her hand, and they would smile and sigh and say you hold on to that one when he comes home.

I will, she would promise, and then before long she would have to take her leave and go out somewhere that none of them could see her and catch her breath before she went on to the next house and did it all again.

And then one day real news did come, that they’d taken Edinburgh and a town next to it, and she practically ran from door to door bringing word of it. “Maybe they really will be home by Christmas,” she said breathlessly to Callum’s wife, and then suddenly they were both laughing and weeping and holding on tightly to one another for dear life.

—

It had been six hours, and his hands were still shaking.

“You’re alright, lad,” Anna’s uncle was saying, grasping his shoulder to try and ground him, but it wasn’t enough; all he could hear was the man’s gasp when the musket ball had hit him and the solid thwack of the body hitting the earth and the cry that had escaped his own lips when he’d realized what he had done.

“You saved my son’s life,” the older man said then, his voice becoming strained, “and I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”

“He was someone’s son, too,” Kristoff said, feeling faraway from it all somehow, like he was still on the battlefield, watching as tiny drifting snowflakes fell and melted when they landed on a slack face that was still warm.

“Aye, he was,” Lachlan said softly, “and that’s why we’ve got to keep fighting as best we can, so this madness can end before there’s none of us left to go home.”

Kristoff closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. “I told Anna I’d be home before the first snow fell.”

“It can’t be helped now, lad. But I’ll do all that’s in my power to get you back to her as soon as I can.”

He nodded, grateful, knowing it was as close to a blessing as he was likely to get. He half expected the other man to get up and leave, go back to his officer’s tent, but instead he stretched out his legs and leaned back on his hands, staring up in silence at the vast expanse of sky, and still he was there when at last the trembling stopped and, overcome with exhaustion, Kristoff fell into an uneasy sleep and dreams of Anna clinging to him with tears streaming down her cheeks and whispering it’s alright, all of it, so long as you come home.

—

The winter was long and dark, devoid of any news except word that a battle had been half-won in January, that a siege had been attempted but both sides had instead retreated partway through. “Why?” Anna asked the man who brought the message, but the only answer was a shrug as the man mounted his horse and turned towards the next village.

There was no news of who yet lived or died, and with the animals kept indoors and no crops to harvest and the moors too frigid to wander, there was little to do but sit at home and wait.

The days were bad enough, sitting by firesides and rehashing the same memories and thoughts and questions over and over for the thousandth time, but the nights were what hollowed her, left her staring up at the ceiling drowning in a tide of dread. This was supposed to have been a fast war, an easy victory for the mighty highlanders and the rightful king against the bastardly interlopers, harking back to the days of Bannockburn and wicked King Edward and the heroes of the Scotsmen charging into battle just as ferociously as they still did today.

She couldn’t help but wonder now what it had been like for the ones left behind back then, if they, too, had paced from room to room and trembled for fear and joy alike over every scrap of news, if they traded the same stories a thousand times over and told each other “this will be it, they’ll be home before you know it and the English will let us alone at last”.

One evening in February as she made her way home after spending an hour smiling and clapping at Callum’s little boy as he made his first hesitant steps across the floor, she found herself walking by the blacksmith’s shop and peering through the window out of habit, as if by some miracle she might catch a glimpse of Kristoff there, the light of the forge gilding him around the edges as he swung his hammer high, all warmth and strength and life.

She blinked and realized she had somehow drawn close enough to flatten her palm against the window, her nose pressing against the glass as she peered in through the gloom at the dust-ensconced anvil and bare table, and suddenly a wild thing overtook her, a desperate need to see some kind of light in the hearth, and before she knew it she was through the backdoor that had been left mercifully unlocked and kneeling before the fireplace.

It took a few tries, but she had seen Kristoff do it enough times that before long she had a fire going, and she sat back on her heels willing the warmth of it to melt the slick, icy dread in her heart that was turning her blood to sludge in her veins.

Anna closed her eyes as tight as she could, twisting the ring around her finger out of habit as she remembered the way his arms had circled around her, the way he’d pressed his lips to her cheek and promised such pretty things to her, the way the sunlight had glinted on his hair as he disappeared from view. If that was the last she saw of him, if that had been goodbye– 

She screwed up her face, willing herself not to cry, but the tears came anyway, burning as they rolled down her cold cheeks. She had told him she was angry with him, that she wouldn’t forgive him until he came home, but her fury had faded away the second she had lost sight of him, and now she was the one who wanted to beg for mercy, to tell him over and over again how sorry she was for spending the night on the moor waiting for him to betray himself when she could have spent hours in his arms, holding him and telling him how she loved him until the dawn.

If you come home to me, she thought then, as if it were a prayer, I’ll spend the rest of my life doing just that to make it up to you.

—

It wasn’t supposed to be happening like this. There were thousands of them, highlanders and lowlanders alike, drilled in rushing forward with a battle cry and startling the enemy into a retreat, the same way they had that had carried them through the fall, but somehow this time it had failed, and now half the army was back at Inverness, and the rest of them were here fighting as best they could through the mud and melting snow as the struggle quickly turned into a slaughter.

He was half out of bullets already, trying not to choke on smoke as he charged towards where Callum was trapped beneath a fallen horse, ignoring the pitched battle all around him as he sprinted forward, thinking only of the woman with curly hair and the blue-eyed babe in her arms standing straight-backed beside Anna and refusing to give in to tears, and then there was a scream and a sword and a burst of red and he was too late.

He stumbled back in horror, a cry bubbling out of his throat as he raised his gun to his shoulder, taking aim, but suddenly there was a shout behind him. On instinct, he turned, the musket ball firing uselessly into the air, and came face to face with a snarling man on horseback, his sword extended, and then there was a blinding pain tearing from his hip to his knee. 

He blinked, too stunned to cry out, and suddenly he was lying in the mud, his vision already going gray around the edges. He clenched his eyes shut, willing himself to stay conscious, to stand again and keep fighting, to avenge Callum and the rest of his clansmen and fight his way through the entire army if he had to, if that was what it took to keep his promise.

He opened his eyes with a gasp of pain, and somehow there she was leaning over him, as solid and real as the earth beneath his back, grace in her eyes as she smiled at him, the ring on her hand glinting as she reached down to caress his cheek.

“Forgive me,” he said hoarsely, and she opened her mouth to reply, and then he blinked and she was gone, and in her place there was a soldier in a red coat with his rifle raised high, and he swung it down hard as if it were a hammer, and Kristoff saw no more.

—

a/n: thank you @kristoffbjorg and @ronnieiswriting for the idea of how he would know how to make her ring the right size