#rayllum's bad vibes rodeo

[blutopaz15]

rayllum week 2023

prompt: flowers

rated t, 2k

He probably doesn’t remember, and honestly…it’s okay.

She doesn’t blame him.

She’d decided that this morning, after the toppled pile of books and the rushed apology she’d woken up to.

“Sorry, Rayla! And, uh…morning!”

Callum’s steps had stuttered towards her, and even with sleep crusties and too much sunlight in her eyes, she’d still gotten a little swoony over that dorky-cute smile flashed in her direction, the bedhead he hadn’t even sorted out yet, that over-eager enthusiasm all over his everything…but then he’d turned away instead of coming closer. He’d jumped right back into sorting the books that he and Kazi had clearly been pulling off the shelves for at least an hour or two already, and she couldn’t deny she’d been a little disappointed—

“This pile’s for Aaravos, that one’s for the coins, and…let’s start a Sky magic stack, just because.”

—but she really couldn’t begrudge him that.

There were plenty of more important things to worry about besides her birthday, after all.

Anyway, she’d only mentioned it…what? Once? When they’d been sleep-deprived on the back of that ambler, pretending like they were listening to each other’s answers to five-, then twenty-questions, rather than just staring at each other’s lips, hardly keeping from kissing again?

But then, he’d mentioned it once too, on the road back to the Nexus, wondering aloud if—

If they’d be back to Katolis in time for their birthdays.

Even if he does remember…nothing is just about what she deserves anyway, as far as birthdays with Callum go, Rayla resolves when the morning passes without a word about it.

She spends the day stewing like that—excusing herself when Callum’s dumb, adorable face makes the regret too much to handle, trying to distract herself with patrolling and target practice, avoiding the reproachful looks from Amaya she’s been getting since they’d gotten here yesterday that she knows she deserves but really, really doesn’t need.

It’s dusk when she heads back inside, but research stretches on until nightfall, and she spends the difference talking herself out of the downward spiral that’d convinced her Callum was too hurt still to even bring up birthdays, let alone have any interest in acknowledging hers. Her head stops spinning—finally—once she and Stella retreat to their little corner of the abandoned Bookery, though.

Judging by the height of the pile that Callum had stacked there beside his bedroll—Sky magic books, she guesses—he’s been busy…and that’s all the reassurance she needs.

He just…doesn’t realize it’s her birthday, she tells herself again, like she had this morning. Clearly, he just has—they just have—a lot going on.

With the moon new, it’s dark enough that even she strains and squints to read the spines of the books, wondering to herself as she looks at the stack if she should tell him or not.…until familiar footsteps bring some firelight to their little not-quite camp.

“You have quite a collection going here, mage,” she chuckles, kneeling by his books, the light letting her confirm that, yes, this whole pile was Callum’s personal Sky magic stack. “Think you might need to send a few of these home to—oh.”

…and she doesn’t need to tell him, apparently, if the fistful of flowers and the smile on his face mean what she thinks they mean.

“It’s your birthday,” Callum starts, setting down the lantern to free a hand to hold out…and she exhales.

She thinks she hides the tingling wave of calm that comes with Callum reaching for her and knows she hides the relieved tears that prickle—just a bit—in her eyes, easily blinking them away before she even puts her hand in his.

“It is,” she says, just a hint of a snicker in her answer. Rayla smiles as she leans into his warm steady hand to stand…and that’s almost familiar again—the brief shows of support, the fleeting moments of comfort, the gentle reminders that he’s there for her. She almost leaves her hand there, covered completely by his, her thumb drifting to his wrist…but lingering like that was uncertain territory still since she’d been back. She remembers how surprised he’d been at her head on his shoulder and how stiff he’d been the whole time on her shadowpaw…so she pulls away and points to the flowers in his other hand instead, each bloom the same vibrant red. “What are these?”

“Uh…orchids, I think?” He examines them himself, peering down at the little bouquet held between them then tilting them to her, holding them out til the soft petals brush her hand. “I guess Sunfire elves do a lot of flowers, so when I told Kazi I needed a gift for you…”

“You told them?” she asks, fingertips brushing his as she takes the flowers by the stems, knowing no one else would’ve had a reason to know about her birthday if Callum didn’t mention it, wondering if anyone else had known all day.

“Just them. I asked them to keep it to themself.” Callum explains, haste in his voice, and Rayla looks up from fiddling with a leaf, realizing that her doubt might have read as displeasure. “You were…quiet this morning, so I thought maybe that was best?”

“We’re busy,” she nods. That’d been the right move, she thinks, even if she’d spent the day assuming the worst, and she squashes the urge to touch him as extra assurance that he’d done the right thing. A big deal about her birthday after what she’d done to him on his, would’ve been…not great. Her eyes fall back to the flowers, and she shuffles her weight to her other foot. “Plus, everyone’s kind of very not happy with me so—”

Rayla stops when his hand slips into hers, lifting her head and finding Callum staring at her sweet and sincere as ever—

“I’m happy with you,” he says, eyes half-lidded, smile sideways.

He’s leaning in, she thinks, paralyzed in place, knowing her mouth is hanging open, knowing she’s looking at his lips…but then the sideways smile there breaks to a wide grin and he repeats himself, squeezing her hand tight enough to snap her out of it.

“And it’s your birthday!” Callum exclaims, and then—

He starts singing, with his own special…Callum-ness that she’s sure isn’t actually a part of the Katolis birthday song.

Right out the gate, she has to bite her lip to stifle her laughter down to a giggle at the silly, dumb dance moves he’s clearly just making up to make her smile, and she almost loses it at the dramatic flourish he adds to the third birthday. Too quickly, the song is over, though, and she’s about to teasingly clap for him—

—but then his lips are on her cheek.

It takes longer than she cares to admit for her to grasp that it’d just been the wishes and kisses and laughter and love he’d just sung about that’d made him kiss her, and she covers the spot where his lips had been in the meantime, not quite knowing what else to do. There was no point in hiding her wide eyes or flushed cheeks, obviously, she realizes, especially seeing how satisfied Callum seemed with her response to his little performance.

“That…that was the—”

“Katolis birthday song,” Callum nods, grinning, and takes the flowers from her hands, leaving them on a table before cheerily pulling her to a spot without books underfoot, “and there’s a dance I’m supposed to learn, right?”

…and her pounding heart falls.

“Callum—” she starts, the words in her letter as fresh as the night she’d written them—for the both of them, apparently—and she swallows thickly, reminded again of all it had—how she had—ruined between them.

Callum shakes his head before she can say more, though, eyes soft and reassuring, and—

—it’s…okay, apparently.

“We’re not missing any more birthdays, alright?” he says, more unbothered than she can understand, easily putting a stop to the spiral she’d spent the day on with a final squeeze before he drops her hands and gestures to the open space around them.

It just takes a blink and a breath, and she follows suit, moving forward.

“Okay, well,” she starts, looking around, considering where to begin. “It works better with more people, but—”

“I can go get the others if you want?” Callum asks with a shrug, a thumb pointed over his shoulder…and she shakes her head in immediate answer, uninterested in spending her birthday with anyone but him.

“No, no, just—uh…just us is fine.” Showing him is obviously the answer, so Rayla presses on his shoulders to switch their spots. “The birthday elf—uhh, person—is supposed to be in the middle, and you kind of dance around them, so…belated birthday dance to demonstrate?”

Her proposition comes with an apologetic smile—she’d meant to make it back to the castle in time for his 17th—and he nods, everything about his answer soft, silent forgiveness.

She spends her first round humming music she hasn’t heard in ages, the second naming the steps as she goes, the third telling him the counts.

By her fourth, she hardly even blushes when the chain of turns at the end of the dance brings them nose-to-nose, close enough to kiss, which was kind of the point when your lover was a part of the dance, but…

She shouldn’t…so she doesn’t.

“Okay,” he says as she comes in close again. “I think I’ve got it.”

“Yeah?” She grins at the head-rush of his breath on her cheek before smoothly spinning away…except that she can’t, because Callum’s caught her hands again and uses her momentum to take her place.

“Eh…mostly?” he shrugs, before drawing a dramatic breath and setting himself up like she had at the start, his leg outstretched at something like the angle she’d shown him. She counts while he copies her, his memory accurate…even if the execution is a little off.

Really, though, considering the swaying in place that Katolis called dancing she’d seen those couple of weeks in the castle…he does pretty great, she thinks, tickled at him so attentive to learning something so familiar to her.

He starts that last series of turns that she knows will bring him in close, and she knows she shouldn’t kiss him kiss him…but he’d gotten her cheek earlier, hadn’t he?

“You’ve got it,” she nods after her lips leave his soft face, stomach fluttering at finding him almost as surprised and flushed as she’d been, then moves on just as quickly as he had. “Then usually you do it again—it’s supposed to be eighteen times for an eighteenth birthday—but kind of…rotate around? If there’s more than one dancer, that is.”

“Eighteen Moonshadow Birthday Dances, coming right up!” Callum says, determinedly setting up for another round. The steps flow, one into the next, a little better this second time, and she tells him so as he starts spinning in towards her again…but he pouts in answer instead of giving her another melty smile like the first time. “What…no kiss this time?”

And no way was she going to pass up that invitation.

Of course, she appeases him before grinning and sending him on his way, singing the tune now—on to a third, and fourth, and fifth repetition—each finished with her lips pressed to his cheek.

By his eighteenth time through, he has the pattern down pat. He hums along with her, even, and, of course, finishes the turns with his beaming face tilted to the side, welcoming her kiss like she’d worried he never would again.

…and she wonders about that last wish she’d had for Callum’s fifteenth birthday.

He’s done dancing now, and still just as close, still reaching for her.

“Happy birthday,” he says, leaning in again…and she’s just as still and speechless as before.

Her eyes flutter, her tongue wets her lips, her breath falls on his cheek, and he crashes into her, his arms locked around her waist, his heartbeat against her chest—

…his hug warm and tight and close.

…and that’s okay too.

[zuppizup]

First Kiss (again)

Previous ficlet - Swords

The first thing Callum feels when the world comes back is pain.

Blinding pain.

His body quivers and jerks, and he cries out as every muscle constricts in agonising cramp.

“Shush, Callum...”

Soft hands across his brow, soothing his tight, painful muscles with a gentle caress.

“Rayla?” His voice quivers and shakes as he forces his eyes open. Or rather, eye open. One of them seems swollen shut.

The world beyond her face is dark and blurry, but he figures out she’s sitting cross-legged, his head cradled in her lap.

“Hi.” She smiles shakily at him, her hands still gentle on his face. She’s pale and tired looking, eyes red and glassy.

“What happened?” He croaks, trying to look around, but his vision swims... confusing shafts of light against deep shadow. The continuing pitch and roll of the ship. A persistent smell of mould and damp.

“I don’t know.” She swallows, her voice tight. “I woke up in here with you.”

“Where are we?” He closes his eyes against the rising nausea.

“The brig.” She sighs, and it is only then he becomes aware of the heavy biting shackles on his wrists and ankles.

“They hurt you.” He opens his eyes again, blurry vision just able to make out the trail of dried blood snaking it’s way around her neck and down her throat.

“I’m fine, Callum.” Her fingers smooth his brow as she smiles softly at him. “You’re the one who was struck by lightning.”

Frowning, he reaches for her, wanting somehow to wipe away the blood, but the shackles pull at his wrist, and he doesn’t have the strength to fight against them.

“Rest, Callum.” She takes his hand in hers, squeezing his fingers as she lays them both gently on his chest.

“We have to get out of here.” He pushes himself up, but his muscles won’t obey him, and he crashes into her, gasping in pain.

“Callum!” Rayla grabs him by the shoulders, their chains echoing loudly.

“So, he’s alive then?”  

Rayla turns to face Nyx, shielding Callum with her body. “What do you want?”

“Not as scary as usual, love bug number one.” Nyx smirks at them through the bars. “Maybe if you both didn’t look like you were about to puke.”

“You double crossed us.” Callum tries to glare at her, but he can barely remain upright, which Rayla clearly spots. Attention no longer on Nyx, she encourages him to lean into her, any other position too awkward around their shackled wrists.

“As much as I like you guys, I’m not exactly willing to get myself killed for you.” She frowns at them, then glances over her shoulder. “You need to rest. You’ll need to be in better shape than this if you want to make a run for it.” Her voice is lowered, barely audible over the creaking ship.

“What are you talking about?” Rayla still sounds annoyed at Nyx, but Callum can detect the faint hint of hope in her voice.

“Just be ready.” She steps away from the bars once again. “Or as ready as you can be.”

They hear a door open and close, and then they’re alone again.

“Think we can trust her?” Rayla sighs, shifting a little so she can look at him.

“I’m not sure we have a choice.” His eyes fall to the dried blood on her neck, and he reaches out to touch the back of her head, wishing he could do something about the cut that caused it.

Despite their dire circumstances, Rayla blushes a little, leaning forward to rest her head against his. “You should rest.”

Her breath tickles his cheek, and he wants to protest, but he’s so tired, even from this small exertion. Rayla looks like she’s about to fall over too though. “We both should.”

“I’ll keep watch.” She encourages him to lay down, leaning back against the wall as she does so.

“Rest, Rayla.” He reclines in her lap again, fingers seeking hers. “What else can they do to us?”

“I’m watching you, dummy.” She smiles softly, squeezing his fingers with one hand while the other begins to brush the hair back from his forehead. “Just struck by lightning? Remember?”

“No.” He attempts to smirk at her, and from the genuine smile on her face, it seems he makes a passable attempt.

“Well, thanks for proving my point.” She raises an eyebrow, ruffling his hair a fraction.

Callum smiles at her, raising their joined hands and pressing his lips to her fingers. She takes a shaky breath, biting her lip as she tries to blink back tears.

Unsuccessfully.

One lands on his cheek, warm and wet.

The illusion of cool, controlled Rayla is cracking. Breaking.

Bending over, Rayla kisses the spot where it lands. He lifts his other hand and wraps it around her shoulder as much as the awkward position allows.

It’s hardly comfortable for either of them. The brig is cold and wet and smells foul. They’re both hurt, tired, and hungry. He wants to kiss her properly, but she seems to be crying more now, and so he holds her instead.

She might be watching over him, but he’s going to watch over her, too.

Next prompt - End of the world

[jedidragonwarriorqueen]

fandom: The Dragon Prince/Rayllum

summary: Before embarking on yet another cross-continental trip, this time just the two of them, Rayla and Callum need to let some Big Feelings air.

tags: angst, emotional hurt/comfort, Big Feelings Time

word count: 2,388

He doesn’t specify which cabinet before his top half vanishes back into the open chest, so Rayla rolls her eyes and starts opening doors. The first two contain all manners of art supplies but are lacking in both socks and underwear. When she goes to open the third, the paper pinned to the door catches her eye. The handwriting is hers. Her mouth goes dry. The paper is slightly yellowed, curling at the edges. There’s more tear stains than she remembers leaving, and it’s clearly been crumpled and smoothed out again. But there’s no mistaking it. ���That’s the wrong cabinet.” Rayla startles. Callum, right side up again, simply looks at her, brow creased.

for the Rayllum Bad Vibes Rodeo 2023 event, prompt three, "reconciliation"

read on AO3!

Thanks as always to my fantastic beta, @arnieb95 💙

[raayllum]

for day 1 of rayllum’s bad vibes rodeo, flowers

He finds the flowers near the rim of the Sea of the Cast Out, growing almost like weeds - stubborn but bright like Moon arcanum flowers, out of whatever outskirts of ruins they’ve stumbled across. He was meant to be gathering firewood, but the flowers catch his eye, and well... They’re pretty, just like Rayla, and he’s been bad at expressing himself since coming back, but he knows she’s homesick and worried about her parents, and maybe something Moon arcanum-y will lift her spirits? Maybe the flowers can do the talking for him?

Callum gathers a small bouquet, the scent soothing, and then tucks them carefully into the seam of his tunic where he keeps her letter over his heart. Maybe, if he gets up the nerve to give her the flowers, they can finally talk about all of it. Why it hurt when she left, what he still doesn’t understand, and what he wants.

That he wants her.

He comes back to the campfire, Ezran playing with Stella, Rayla watching with a sweet smile while Bait grumbles in the corner. Callum adds the firewood to their pile and plops down, decidedly more beside her in a way that would’ve been normal, before, but feels tentative and heart-racing to rebuild now.

“You were gone for a while,” she notes, still smiling, but he can see the faint worry in her eyes. “Almost sent Bait out to look for you.”

Callum scoots a bit closer as a silent apology, his knee bumping into hers. “Ah, excellent tracker, is he?” He’s less surprised this time when Rayla hum and rests her head on his shoulder, her smile growing and worry fading.

“Oh, the best.”

Callum snorts, and they stay like that until the fire dies down and Ez and Stella grow quiet, Stella bounding over to curl up on Rayla’s other shoulder, and Zym coils his tail around a sleeping Ezran.

It takes even longer for Callum to find his voice, the arm that’s not wrapped around her waist half reaching for the flowers in his pocket. They’re beautiful, just like her, and she deserves to know... what? That he loves her? That he loves her.

“Rayla?” he begins, but there’s not even a sleepy hum in response, and he looks over to find her dozing, her cheek softly smushed against his shoulder.

Everything in him eases and twists with disappointment all at once. Okay, so not tonight. He leans forward and gives her forehead a little kiss, mindful of her horns. But tomorrow, for sure.

He wakes up alone, her sleeping bag cold when he reaches for her. His fingers don’t brush any of her weapons either, not her father’s bow or her familiar butterfly blades, and it hits him like a gut punch, the idea of being at Umber Tor and not having anything of her left, because she leaves, just like she always does, and—

Callum sits up, a bitter twinge in his heart. “Where’s—”

“She went out scouting,” Ez answers, petting Zym’s head by the newly lit fire.

“And you didn’t think to wake me?” he grouses irritably. They could’ve gone together. She would’ve let him come this time, wouldn’t she? She’d wanted him to come in the Drakewood, and he’d been too angry and proud to—

“We figured a prince needs his beauty sleep,” she drawls, strolling back into camp with berries and a bright smile. Ezran accepts the present eagerly, Rayla frowning when Callum doesn’t lighten. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he says, composing himself. He isn’t going to be mad anymore. He doesn’t want to be mad. He just wants—He reaches for the flowers, his fingers finding only strange ash. What the—?

Can emotion kill the good things too, as some kind of cruel magic?

“Just... still a bit tired,” he lies, and she softens.

“Eat,” she coaxes. “You’ll feel better.”

He gets his answer later though, when their path takes them by the same bend of ruins he’d traipsed through the previous night. The field had been full of beautiful blooms, but now they’re nothing more than crumbled piles of ash. Zym sniffs at one with a displeased snort.

“What are these about, Rayla?” Ezran asks.

“Flowers of Elarion,” she says. “They’re beautiful, but only at night. They regrow in the evening but don’t make it past sunrise.”

“Like a phoenix cycle?”

She reaches down and ruffles Ezran’s hair. “A bit, yeah.”

“That’s sort of sad,” he reflects.

“Sort of,” she agrees. “But they’re flowers. They can’t change their nature.”

Callum presses his lips together. They’re beautiful and soothing, just like her, and nothing good nor bad ever lasts forever, but fuck, his heart hurts now. There’s a strange quality in his voice, as he says, “So they’re always gone by morning?”

Rayla catches his eye, and there must be something in his gaze, too, because she ducks her head, unable to entirely hold it—just like he can’t entirely hold her, no matter how badly he wants to. “Yes,” she answers. She swallows. “They are.”

[ac0531]

Water

They had failed…

It was the only thing that kept replaying within Callum. The only thing he could process. Everything they had done up until that point… had all been for nothing. 

Claudia had succeeded, the prison was opened- and Aaravos… Aaravos was finally freed and allowed to do anything he wanted. 

Amidst the chaos, everyone had been separated- thrown about now that the Startouch was walking free. The last thing Callum had remembered, he was flying.

Flying away…

Trying to escape, but remembering if Rayla had also escaped.

Rayla…

And now the next thing he knew, he had crash landed into a tiny alcove. He didn’t know how far he was from the disarray, but that was the least of his worries right now. 

Ezran, Soren, Zym, Rayla…

They were still back there most likely- back there with Claudia and the others…

How could this have happened? Despite their best efforts… they failed…

Callum’s body throbbed, his muscles feeling limp. He’d exerted himself too much trying to stop Claudia, and then trying to get away- the pain was almost unbearable. 

Maybe a quick rest… no, no he had to go back. 

The people he cared about, he couldn’t just assume they’d gotten away.

What if they were still in trouble? 

Fear consumed him, and Callum tried to stand- only to collapse onto his knees, more pain shooting through him. He hissed, a hand holding onto his side- it was no use… he didn’t even have enough energy to stand back up. 

He was stuck… trapped with feelings of regret that he couldn’t do it.

Feelings of anger at himself. 

And feelings of fear for his loved ones. 

Rayla… sources he’d hoped she was all right. 

Grunting, Callum tried to move again, only getting a little bit further until having to stop, nearly falling onto the ground. The only sounds he could hear were from the water splashing against the rocks- but each sound he heard gave him bitter reminders of where he’d been in the first place. 

He shook his head, not wanting to give up- mustering up more energy to move. 

But he only got a few more inches forward before almost collapsing. No matter how much he fought it, he couldn’t do it. 

“R-Rayla…” Callum’s voice was shaken, broken- cracking across the space, eyes looking down at the water flowing past him. 

All he saw looking back at him was his broken reflection- face littered with cuts and bruises, eyes glassy, and the look of despondence. The more he stared at himself, the more he began to remember. It came back to him in shattered fragments, but each one was of one distinct person. 

Rayla…

He remembered the time when he and she had shared a close moment with making flower crowns while they were trekking through Xadia to bring Zym back. 

Or the times she’d been there to help him fight back against the fears of being taken control of by Aaravos- her light guiding him out of the path of darkness

Or even the time before they were about to confront Claudia- when she had kissed him… telling him it was for luck, to remind him that she was right next time him- that she wasn’t going anywhere. 

That… she would keep him safe. 

The water rippled, and Callum realized it was his tears causing it. 

He swallowed the lump in his throat, teeth gritting. 

Despite his best efforts to assure himself that Rayla would be ok, he couldn’t…

Because he did this…

He failed…

[numptypylon]

Flowers prompt for Rayllum’s Bad Vibes Rodeo fandom event, because these new clips have such screenshot editing potential 🥰

[zuppizup]

Flowers

Taking a deep breath, Callum watched Rayla, the item in his hands cradled tenderly. She was talking to one of the Tidebounds, helping them load the little boat that will take them to the much larger ship anchored in the bay. Boat apparently full, the Tidebound seemed to ask Rayla a question, gesturing to the small vessel but she waved him off, stepping back further up the beach.

Nodding, the elf launched the small boat and began rowing out into the bay.

Rayla sighed, wiping her brow as she watched him go. From the high set to her shoulders, Callum could tell she was nervous. Tense.

She hadn’t complained when they collectively decided they needed to make their way to the Tidebound archipelago in search of information on Aaravos, but she’d been a little quieter since.

She’d waved off his and Ezran’s questions about the journey, acting nonchalant and relaxed.

He knew her though. He’d always been able to tell when something was bothering her, even if he didn’t know what that something was.

But this? Well, he was pretty sure he knew why she was apprehensive now.

He glanced at the blooms clutched in his hand, checking she was alone one last time, then decided to approach her.

“Hi.” He grimaced at how forced and weird he sounded. When had speaking to Rayla got so awkward?

She turned quickly to look at him, a blush spreading quickly across her cheeks. “Hey Callum.” Her eyes darted to the flowers in his hand and somehow she blushed even pinker.

“Em, these are for you.” He thrust the flowers at her, feeling himself blush too.

Her face lit up with a bright, dazzling smile, making his heart race in his chest.

“Thank you, Callum.” She lifted the flowers, inhaling deeply, then turned to smile at him again, looking pretty and shy and nervous. “They’re beautiful. I’ve, eh, never been given flowers before. They-”

“They’re not.” He blurted out awkwardly, realising how it looked now and realising he needed to explain. “I mean, yeah, they’re flowers obviously, but I’m not giving them to you. Or, em, I’m not giving you flowers.”

Her face fell at his awkward mumbling, and she lowered the flowers in her hands, offering them back to him. “Oh.” She responded, sounding lost and confused.

“No!” He held up his own hands, refusing to take them back, which clearly confused her more. “They are for you but, em, you make tea with them.” He explained. “It’s supposed to help with sea sickness.” He nodded at the ship. “I asked the first mate if he knew anything that would help and he said this plant is used for nausea.”

A number of emotions quickly passed across Rayla’s face, but she eventually clutched the flowers a little closer, smiling softly. “Thanks.”

He found himself missing the delighted smile of moments ago.

He... wanted to see it again.

“Eh, that’s okay.” Swallowing past his own nerves, he offered her a smile of his own. “Em, maybe I’ll be able to find some not sea sick flowers for you another time?”

Like he hoped, she did smile at him upon hearing this.

It wasn’t the big, bright smile he was hoping for, but it was sweet and pretty and made his heart race all the same.

[zuppizup]

Swords

Previous - Reconciliation

“Stop it!”

He grits his teeth as he hears Rayla cry out again, doing everything in his power to avoid looking at her. It’s taking all his concentration to channel the storm away from them and if she looks as distressed as she sounds, he knows he’ll break.

“You’re hurting him! Stop!”

She screams again and he can make out movement to his left. She’s fighting them, struggling against her bonds and trying to make her way to him.

Callum groans loudly as some of the lightning he is redirecting escapes his control, crackling across his shoulder and causing the muscles to jerk and constrict. In his peripheral vision he can see the circle of pirates expand around him, some of their eyes darting skyward, and to the ominous ring of clouds circling overhead.

He tries desperately to force Rayla’s struggles from his mind. He just needs to channel this power for them, these traitorous pirates, help them contain it. He doesn’t care what they want it for. All he cares about is keeping the others safe from the knives at their throats.

Once he’s done this, they’ll set them free.

They promised.

A sudden powerful discharge hits him in the chest, the force almost enough to knock him off his feet.

“Callum!” Rayla is free somehow, or rather her legs are.

She runs towards him, her arms still tightly bound behind her back. But she’s not paying attention, and one of the pirates trips her, sending her crashing onto the rough deck. She’s stumbling to her feet again though, crying out in frustration.

“Stay down!” The first mate grabs her roughly by the hair, then raises the butt of his sword and clocks her hard in the back of the head.

Immediately she goes limp and he tosses her lifeless body onto the deck, her hair now loose of its bun and fanning out around her head.

Mingling with the rain and the salt water and... blood.

Callum gasps, eyes and attention no longer on the crackling thunder hovering over the deck.

He tries to take a step towards her, wants to reach out and cradle her prone form, but before he realises what’s happening a bright light flashes over head and his entire body is encompassed by pain.

Continued - First Kiss (again)

[zuppizup]

End of the world

Previous - First Kiss (again)

Rayla feels the blade bite into her neck and gasps despite herself. The vines around her wrists and ankles hold her securely, though not cruelly.

Callum lurches forward, gripping his staff that bit tighter.

“Uh uh.” Claudia uses Rayla’s horn to wrench her neck even further back, pressing the blade tighter still. “Not one more step.”

“Let her go, Claudia!” Callum’s eyes dart between hers and Claudia’s.

“Gladly, Callum.” She nods at the bag slung over his back. “Pass me the Cube and you can both walk away from here.”

“No, Callum!” Rayla yells out. She has no idea what Claudia wants with the Cube, but she knows if the Dark Mage wants it, the last thing Callum can do is hand it over to her. A second later there’s a flash of light, then a searing pain across her cheek and she realises Claudia has cut her.

“No!” Callum cries out, rushing towards them.

“One more step.” Claudia hisses, her blade once again at Rayla’s neck. “One more… You wouldn’t believe what I can do with just this.”

Rayla can’t see, but she assumes Claudia is referring to the blood trickling down her cheek.

Callum stops, lowering his staff in defeat.

“Drop it.” Claudia nods at the staff. “Kick it over here.”

Callum’s eyes find Rayla’s again and she sees him nod just a fraction, like he’s trying to reassure her. She inhales to object but Claudia’s blade presses against her throat.

Callum swallows, eyes on the knife as he crouches down and places his staff on the forest floor. Getting to his feet, he does as Claudia insists and kicks it clumsily across the rough ground. Terry bends down and picks it up.

“Getting quite the collection, eh babe?” Claudia smirks, but keeps her eyes on Callum.

Terry doesn’t respond, eyes darting around the clearing.

“Excellent,” Claudia nods at Callum’s shoulder. “Now, the Cube.”

Swallowing, Callum hesitates, clearly struggling to follow through. “What are you going to do with it?”

“That’s none of your concern.” Claudia grips Rayla’s horn tighter. “Hand it over.”

“Claudia, you don’t understand. Aaravos-”

“Aaravos cares about humans. He’s going to help us even the odds.” Claudia sneers at him, and Rayla can’t help but inhale as the blade presses tighter, her skin stinging.

“Stop!” Callum reaches for her, his brow furrowed. “Claudia, please!”

“Enough!” She stands firm, sounding a little more composed. “The Cube. Now.”

“Callum, you can’t-” Rayla pleads, trying to ignore Claudia’s scoff of annoyance.

“Can you keep it down?” She rolls her eyes, reaching into her bag and pulling out some sort of petrified claw. “Htaerb eht laets!”

Rayla’s stomach turns as red light streaks towards her, worms it’s way down her throat before retreating with something.

Immediately she gasps, wanting to clutch at her neck. It’s like she can’t breathe, like the air is catching in her throat as she struggles against her bonds.

“No! ”Callum rushes forward before Claudia grips her by the horn, the blade once again on her throat.

Rayla can barely concentrate on anything now as she gasps and sputters.

“No more games.” Claudia’s voice has lost the mocking tone. “I have no idea how long she can survive like this, but we can test it...”

Callum takes a deep breath as he pulls the bag from his back and retrieves the nondescript looking cube.

“Terry?” Claudia glances at him, nodding at the Cube in Callum’s hand.

He steps forward slowly, seeming to hesitate before he takes it from Callum’s outstretched hand.

Smirking, Claudia let’s go of Rayla’s horn, sheathing her dagger. “Always nice seeing you guys.” She strides over to Terry, giving him a peck on the cheek.

Terry’s eyes glow as he waves his arms and the vines holding Rayla upright begin to retreat. She collapses onto the cave floor, fingers clutching her throat.

Callum rushes to her, pulling at her remaining bonds, eyes frantic as she continues to struggle for air. “Claudia, you promised!”

“Claudia.” Terry holds the Cube back just a fraction when the Dark Mage reaches for it.

Sighing, Claudia rolls her eyes, turning back to Callum and Rayla. “I suppose I did.” Shrugging, she raises the paw again, the light returning to Rayla’s throat.

Rayla takes a deep, desperate breath, hands gripping Callum as he holds her and speaks soothing words.

But they don’t have time for that. Claudia and Terry are already rushing away, escaping, and it’s all her fault. She let herself get captured. Claudia and Viren have the final piece of the puzzle and she practically handed it to them.

She tries to crawl forward, to chase after Claudia and Terry and the Cube as Callum pleads with her to stop, to rest, to recover and...then the clearing goes black.

Next - End of the World

[zuppizup]

Water

Previous - End of the world

“Do not ask how the ocean’s blue, or why the tides their time do keep. To love is to simply know this: The tides are true as the ocean is deep”

Rayla begins to come to as the sun is setting, the moon hanging on the horizon. She looks around the clearing, as she pushes herself up on her elbows and Callum hurries over to her. He’s been unsuccessfully trying to light the fire, but their tinder is still damp.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he helps her sit up. The colour has return to her cheeks somewhat and her breathing finally sounds normal.

“Where are we?” she asks, looking around her.

“Not far from where we ran into Claudia,” he offers her his water skin, but she doesn’t even seem to notice it as she begins to gather her things.

“How far have you tracked them?” Her hands move to her back and he can see a little of the tension leave her shoulders when she finds her blades securely holstered.

“Tracked them?” he tries to urge her to relax. It’s almost night and she’s been unconscious for hours. They’ve no idea what the spell Claudia performed on her did and the last thing she needs to do is to go stumbling through a dark forest.

“How much of a head start do they have?” Pushing herself to her feet, she stumbles a little and he rushes to catch her.

“Too much.” He tries to urge her to sit, but she ignores him. “Rayla, you need to rest. You were out for hours.”

“We don’t have time!” She grits her teeth, eyes glistening. “The Cube-”

“Yeah, they have it now, and we have no chance of getting it back with you like this!” He takes a deep breath, attempting to keep his temper under control.

“Oh, so it’s my fault?!” She attempts to glare at him, the look undercut by the tears on her cheeks.

He huffs, balling his fists. “That’s not what I’m saying and you know it.”

Turning away from him, she begins walking to the edge of the clearing.

“Rayla, stop!” He hurries after her, grabbing her wrist. “We need a plan. We can’t just go blindly chasing after them!”

She pulls her hand back, turning to glare at him. “Callum, we know what they’re going to do with it!” Tears well up in her eyes again. “How could you?”

“How could I?” He scoffs. “What other options did I have?!”

“They’re going to restore Aaravos and we gave them the last piece of the puzzle!” Her tears are angry now. “What were you thinking?!”

“I obviously wasn’t thinking!” He spits, and it seems to momentarily shock her into silence. “Of course I gave up the Cube to save your life! I love you!"

Taking a breath, he shakes his head, some of the fire leaving him. It’s the first time he’s said it since she’s come back...

She wipes her eyes, her shoulders slumped now. “Callum, you can’t-”

“What, you just expected me to watch? To stand idly by while Claudia suffocated you or slit your throat or... or...?” He blinks his own tears from his eyes now. “Do you think I could do that?”

This seems to get through to her somewhat and she falls silent again.

“If it came down to it, could you do it? If Aaravos possessed me again, could you kill me?” He takes her hand. “Even though it might have stopped this.”

Her breath catches and she closes her eyes, reaching for him. He takes her in his arms, holding her close.

“Callum, what if we’ve doomed the world?” She whispers into his neck, her voice barely above a whisper.

He doesn’t reply. Not because he doesn’t have an answer but because he knows she won’t like it. That it would weigh heavy on her, be another burden that’s not hers to carry but that she would all the same.

Because he doesn’t care.

He knows if presented with the choice again, he’d choose her. That he would always choose her. That there would never be an eventuality where he’d be able to hold onto the Cube and let her die.

[zuppizup]

Reconciliation

The soft pink of sunrise makes Rayla realise they’ve continued riding through the night. The insistent, hurried gallop of the Shadowpaw slowly gave way to a gentle trot what must have been hours ago and now he’s seems to be just managing to put one paw in front of the other.

Callum’s leaning back into her, or maybe she’s slumped forward against him?

It’s hard to tell.

It’s not like she needs to hold him to stay on the Shadowpaw. Not when it was running all out, darting and diving in a desperate effort to avoid the demon banther’s jaws, and certainly not at this lazy, tired pace, but she finds herself holding him tight all the same.

“We should make camp.” Her voice sounds strangely strained.

Callum turns a little, weary eyes catching hers. He sighs, his brow furrowed in concern. “Probably.”

Her hands at his waist slip that bit higher, grip a little tighter and one of his leaves the reigns to drape across her fingers, squeezing them ever so slightly.

He sighs shakily, turning his head a little more and pressing his cheek against her temple for a sweet moment.

She smiles weakly at him, hoping it rallies his spirits. Brave face and that.

Instead his face falls just a fraction, his eyes searching her face. “That was... I can’t believe what you did back there.” His fingers intertwine with hers. “That... You’re amazing, Rayla.”

Her heart constricts at the soft look in his eyes and she finds her throat too tight to speak. She’d reacted on instinct. Doing everything in her power to keep him safe, free from the jaws of that demon banther.

“You saved our lives.” He blinks rapidly against glassy eyes, voice strangled.

She shakes her head, pressing her forehead against his. “We did.” She insists, her breath catching. “I couldn’t have stopped it without you, Callum.”

And as much as it terrifies her, she knows it’s also true. The only reason they’re both here, now, is because they looked out for each other.

He smiles softly at her, fingers caressing hers where they continue to hold him by the waist. He looks like he’s about to raise issue with what she said and so she continues.

“We did it together.” Her throat is tight again. The realisation hits her suddenly. “We’re stronger together.”

Continued - Swords

[blutopaz15]

rayllum week 2023

prompt: swords/coins

2k, rated t

Callum loves her.

He hasn’t said it yet, but…Rayla knows.

She doesn’t need him to say it, she’d decided yesterday. Once he’d pulled her from that pile of rubble and finally—finally—held her again, she’d known. She’d known what that urgent, unchecked rush towards her had been about, what the crack in his voice meant, what his nose buried against her neck was…and it’d only gotten more obvious from there. He’d hardly let her out of his sight back at the Spire, insisting on fussing over new bumps and bruises, on filling her water, on finding her food…and she’d known.

It’d been clear when she’d shown them all the coins too. He’d been right there beside her the whole time, his hand heavy and constant on her back while she wept…and knowing Callum loved her had made it all a little easier, at least.

Not that she’d ever stopped knowing, really.

No way could she have gone on without him as long as she did if she hadn’t been sure he’d love her still. She couldn’t have let herself believe any different—not when she’d been sobbing all over that letter she’d left him, not when hunting for answers alone had turned hopeless, not when she’d been all edge-frazzled on the outskirts of the city a week ago. Even when he wouldn’t talk to her that first night, even with how cold and snippy he’d been the whole way to the mountain, even when they’d yelled at each other in the woods…she’d known that underneath all the hurt was love.

She’d always had faith in that—that nothing she’d done could make him stop, that he’d understand no matter how hurt he was, that he’d care enough to forgive her, that his love was just as true and deep as hers—

…and he’s done nothing but prove her right since Umber Tor.

Even if he still hasn’t said it.

It’d been the same today, back in Katolis. Since they’d landed, he’d been there, constantly near…even if any affection was a little stilted still. He’d kept close in their hurried little council meeting, held her hand while Soren pried open the sealed door to the dungeon…

…given her his shoulder when pulling Runaan’s bow out from the dust had been just…too much.

And all of that is more than enough for her to be sure.

He loves her.

So, she’s trying not to dwell on the quiver now strapped to her back or the gold pieces tucked in her pocket. She’s trying not to think about the home she can’t ever go back to, or her torn-apart family, or the mission they barely know where to start with…and to focus on Callum instead.

He makes it easy, of course, Rayla thinks, letting his rambling about supplies soften the pit in her stomach as she watches him a pace ahead of her, halfway down the castle corridor connected to his own.

His footsteps still keep the pace of their day, never mind that they’d reached the end of their castle errands before setting out early tomorrow, but…his quick steps don’t fall all over themselves like they might’ve before. He rambles like he used to, listing off things they’ll need, still to be collected in the morning…but his voice is deeper, controlled, steady. Best of all, of course, is how he looks back at her, eyes warm and attentive and so very sweet…even if they’re a little less bright than before.

If his attention alone hadn’t made it clear enough how much he still cared, their errands all over the castle certainly had. Even when she was gone, he’d loved her, it seemed, judging by the drawings of her all over his office, his well-practiced tending to her shadowpaw in the stables, her favorites still on hand in the kitchens where they’d left Ez with Bait and Stella, this bedroom he’s leading her to that’s—apparently—specifically hers…

…that no one but Callum could’ve put together.

Rayla’s a little stunned, honestly, once Callum’s done fiddling with the lock. He steps aside, holding the door for her…and all she can do is just blink at all of it at first.

He definitely loves her.

…and she absolutely loves him, but…

He won’t say it, so what can she say?

Slowly, she steps in from the doorway, feeling Callum hovering in the entrance behind her, and turns to him, still not sure what’s going to come out of her mouth…but he beats her to it.

“I…kind of had a phase last summer?” he explains, the new steady timbre of his voice raised with nervous laughter. “I think I thought you’d come for my birthday. I wasn’t sure how we’d feel about sharing anymore, and I wanted you to have somewhere comfortable, so…”

Callum trails off with a shrug, one hand gesturing to the room he’d clearly spent so much care and effort on, the other at the back of his neck, which she’s sure burns just as red as his face…and Rayla swivels back around, setting down her weapons, still beaming and still not quite knowing where to start.

Maybe with the pictures posted up on the walls? Some of them she’d seen before—her and Callum, Ez, Bait, even that picture of her parents from up at the top of the Spire—but most of the assortment are new—things they’d done those weeks here in the castle, things they hadn’t in Xadia.

Maybe with the table in the corner? He’s set out more than he’d bought her from that shop in town they’d gone to, plus things she’d confided about longing for from home—a horn buff, those little magically stretchy hair ties that apparently aren’t a thing in Katolis…even the moonberry balm she’d thought was Silvergrove-exclusive.

Or maybe with the ridiculous monstrosity of a bed? She tries not to roll her eyes—the sheets are the same shade that Callum had called her eyes that afternoon they’d gone to the castle seamster, the open canopy dark enough to block out the sun like he’d joked she’d needed every time she’d slept late, the pillows fancy and soft and huge, and—

“Are these—” Rayla starts, unable to help the upward pitch of her giggling, pointing to the fluffy-looking rainbow row of button-eyed puff-balls arranged against the pillows.

“Giant adoraburr pillows? Yep,” Callum shrugs, flushed bright still, and, oh, it’s an effort to stifle the squeeze that all this sweetness deserves.

She can see it now: hopeful-if-still-hurt Callum channeling all that consideration and care he’d had for her here at the castle into this little sanctuary, spending weeks and weeks drawing and shopping, searching high and low for everything little thing, all for her…only to realize maybe a week out from his birthday what was obviously missing. He’d been adorable, she’s sure, all lit up with inspiration, scribbling out a rushed and messy sketch, tripping over himself to find whoever in Katolis could sew them…and fast.

Rayla picks up a yellow burr, cheeks aching from keeping her smile low and fond instead of tackling him the way she wants to.

“Like I said,” Callum goes on explaining himself, “I got a little, uh…obsessed. I wanted it to be perfect so you’d…”

He doesn’t finish the thought, but it sobers all the lovesickness anyway.

“Stay?”

Their eyes lock, level and steady, for a long second before he answers, eyelids barely fluttering over a layer of not-quite tears.

“Yeah.”

He looks away.

But…he loves her, Rayla reminds herself, finding the familiar-looking pile of folded clothes opposite the adoraburrs. He’d wanted her here, obviously—he still wants her here—and she’d only been alone because she’d left, not because he didn’t care, not because she couldn’t be here, not because he’d been taken from her.

Rayla can’t look at him either.

She skims over the smooth, stitched, red towers she’d worn instead, embroidered over the heart of his borrowed pajamas.

“Those might be a little small now,” Callum adds, his voice lowered again, less likely to crack like before.

“They were a little big then,” she shrugs, knowing that if she turns back to him like this, there’ll be tension she can’t take.

So…she flops down on the bed instead.

“Uh…you alright?” Callum asks, his footsteps shuffling farther into the room as she unburies her face from the adoraburr pile.

“Just getting reacquainted with freeloading off my favorite fancy-pants royal family,” she smiles, hoping that maybe rehashing a joke from back then will melt the icy mood.

He doesn’t tease her back though…he just gives her the look that that bit had always ended with. Callum tilts his head, brow lifted, looking at her through his lashes, and he doesn’t have to say any of it—that she’s their guest, that this is her home if she wants it to be, that she belongs here.

She knows.

He loves her.

Rayla pushes up to her elbows.

“Thanks for all this.” Rayla looks all over again, smiling softly; Callum thaws even more. There’s even a little swell of satisfaction glimmering in his eyes…and Rayla’s heart squeezes in her chest.

“No big deal,” he shrugs, and it’s not tension anymore—not that kind of tension, at least—in the silence that follows, she thinks, seeing how he blushes and fidgets in the quiet, shifting his weight, not quite looking at her.

He breathes in a sharp breath, like he has more to say, and…it’d fit, she thinks, to say it now—

“What is it?” she asks, letting herself ask but not quite letting herself hope.

“I just wasn’t sure if maybe you wanted to…talk?”

…and Rayla deflates.

But only just a little: this was its own Callum kind of love confession, anyway.

“The past few days have been kind of a lot, and—” Callum pauses. He knows—of course he does—the reason for her kidding around, obviously. He knows what she’s avoiding. “It doesn’t have to be big feelings time for us, Rayla. Just…for you. If you want.”

She’s never answered as automatically as this: they’re big big feelings, but…he’s right that she should and she’s missed even what she used to chafe at.

He loves her, and…she hasn’t had this.

“That’d be…nice,” she nods.

“Really?” he cracks again, and she expects the way his eyebrows bolt upwards, expects the renewed flush that settles across his cheeks when she rolls to her back, expects how his steps stutter closer when she pats the spot beside her…and, clearly, he realizes the reason she’s given in so quickly to big feelings time like this too. “I mean—good.”

Callum settles at her side, their elbows alone touching, and all of that melted tension from before is a flood now—wetness flowing down her cheeks, confusion and hurt and doubt coming in waves. All that she can manage to keep welled up is how much loving him has to do with it all—having him and him alone to rely on, having risked that—and she trembles long after she’s through talking.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly when she’s done, voice small—not that customary I hear your feelings that hardly ever seemed to actually be his answer.

“Thanks.” Her voice shaking, she stares at the purple silk above their heads, hand over the pouch in her pocket…until Callum shifts beside her, rocking up to an elbow.

“No, I mean. I’m sorry.” His brow is furrowed, the light sheen of not-quite tears over green again, and Rayla matches him, confusion mirroring his apologies. “I didn’t believe you back then and I kept pushing you to move on, and…maybe things could’ve been different.”

She’s shaking her head and sitting up before he’s even finished speaking, and then he’s upright too.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Callum. I just…didn’t want to lose anyone else.” She twitches to touch him, but…stops. She…shouldn’t, so she bunches her knees up instead, busying her hands with holding them in, to her chest. “I had to keep you safe. You especially.”

“...I know.”

Callum breathes, and she can’t bear to look at him, sure she’ll find the space between them just as strained as before…but then—

“Rayla? Can I…? If it’s not too weird?”

His hand lands on her shoulder, his other arm open too, and—

“Oof.”

Rayla whispers an apology but nuzzles in against the crook of his neck anyway, and he sighs, wrapping her up tighter as she loosens—only a little—the loop her arms make around his waist.

He loves her.

“We’re going to figure out how to fix this—all of this—okay?”

He doesn’t have to say it.

Rayla knows.

[zuppizup]

Possession

He tries to scream, to cry out, but it’s like he’s nothing. No-one. Just a passive wanderer in his own body.

Rayla grunts in pain as she is thrown into another tree.

Thrown by him.

It’s a whole new sort of terror, this disembodied helplessness. He doesn’t have eyes to cry or teeth to grit… no hands to ball in anger.

All he is is a ghost. A passenger along for the ride as Aaravos does with his body as he sees fit.

Aaravos laughs at him too. Callum can feel the Startouch’s amusement at his predicament. He can feel his delight as Callum’s body hurt’s Rayla over and over and over and over…

At least Soren got Ezran away. The wide-eyed horror as this body advanced on him is something Callum thinks he will never forget.

But his brother is safe from him.

For now.

Rayla assured that, at the cost of her own safety. Her own life.

So very Rayla.

He already knows Aaravos’ intentions. The connection flows back and forth more this time.

He knows Aaravos plans on toying with her for a while. Drawing it out as long as possible and then killing her slowly, painfully. While Callum can do nothing but watch. Sit passively by as she is rent asunder by his own hands.

Part of him thinks she knows how futile this struggle is. How hopeless.

She’s still pulling her punches though, still trying to incapacitate them.

Holding back is only hurting her more and all he wants to do is beg her to at the very least run.

Give up on him and save herself.

She doesn’t though, she continues to have faith in him. Getting up every time she’s knocked down. Trying to reach him, pull him free. “I know you’re still in there, Callum!” She spits blood onto the forest floor, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, her eyes fixed on his. “I know you’re stronger than him!”

How he wishes he could tell her he hears every word, he’s just to weak to resist the control.

He can see she’s faltering now, weak and injured. She has little left to give.

Aaravos knows it too, and Callum’s heart constricts when he realises Aaravos knows if he doesn’t finish her soon, she’ll loose consciousness.

Or worse.

And he wants very much to play with her.

Rayla rushes them, the remaining half of Runaan’s bow blade in her left arm. Not her good arm, but that hangs useless by her side.

She raises the knife, preparing to strike but even Callum can see her resolve crumble. Before she reaches them, she sobs, stumbling and dropping to her knees.

The blade skids across the forest floor, stopping when Aaravos lazily lifts Callum’s foot to intercept it.

Callum tries to scream, to cry out, push back… anything.

He already knows what Aaravos has planned, the images of Rayla’s ruined body flashing through their joined minds.

They bend down and pick up the knife, casually strolling over to where Rayla kneels panting on the rough ground. Grabbing her by the horn, they roughly pull her head back, chuckling at her tears.

“Any final words?” Aaravos snickers as he teases the blade along her neck. “He can hear you, you know? One last declaration of love? A plea for your life?”

Rayla swallows, looking defiantly into his eyes. “It’s not your fault, Callum.” She whispers, a tear rolling down her cheek as she smiles sadly. “Don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault…”

Aaravos laughs, pushing the blade lower, pressing it against Rayla’s stomach. “We’ll see if you still think that once this is all over.”

He pulls back, preparing to gut her, the slow beginning of this torturous end…

Rayla closes her eyes, breathing out slowly. She looks resigned.

This cannot be happening. He can’t, he can’t, he can’t do this to Rayla. He can’t bare it. It’s too much.

Aaravos chuckles as he prepares to rip the knife through flesh and then there’s a blinding pain, burning like fire through his ribs.

They both gasp, falling on hands and knees as the breath is knocked from them.

“Idiot boy.” Aaravos sneers as he retreats into darkness, leaving Callum alone in his own mind.

“Callum!” Rayla crawls forward, arms reaching for him. “Oh Sources, Callum, what did you do?!”

“It doesn’t matter.” He coughs, only a little surprised to see the splatter of blood on the ground. He pays it no mind as he turns to look at Rayla, smiling softly. “He’s gone. You’re safe now.”

[blutopaz15]

rayllum week 2023

prompt: possession

rated t

tw: blood, stab wound

No.

Callum surges back into himself all at once. The bawling, ragged scream trapped in his head rips through his throat, his limbs tear from the puppet strings—

—and they’re alone again.

Alone together, though, and Callum wills away the black spots at the corners of his vision, wills his swaying legs upright, wills the sickened churning in his stomach down.

He knows what he’s done—what he’s done—and…

Rayla needs him.

She’s all he feels: her hand over his, not just warm but…hot.

Hot because—

“It’s—it’s okay,” she grunts through the whimpering edge of her own choked, gasping sob. “It wasn’t—” Rayla steadies herself against him, her other hand fisted over his shoulder. “—you.”

No.

Callum lets his chin fall, every other joint stubbornly stuck in place, and all he can do is repeat the same strangled word, nearly whispering.

No.

Her blade in her belly, his fingers wrapped around it, her bloody hand over top of his—

No.

He’s frozen, every muscle tensed with the effort of wresting control, his grip still and steady, holding the rest of her blade at bay…and he stares between them, hollowed out with doubt that he’d taken control at all, suddenly sure it’d be given back instead. The wound was too precisely calculated—just deep enough to stop them both in their tracks, just shallow enough that he was sure Aaravos wasn’t done with either of them, the cut slipping perfectly through a seam in her armor that he couldn’t have known about.

Callum flinches at the lingering feeling of Aaravos rifling through him like that, sifting through every little private remembrance—

“Don’t—” Rayla hisses, her hands clenched hard. “Don’t move.”

—all to hurt her.

“You have to get us out of here, Callum.”

No, is still all he can say.

“We can’t stay here.”

No.

“Callum, I can’t protect you like this.”

No.

“Claudia’s not far behind us, and it’s only a matter of time before—”

No.

“Callum, yes.” Rayla winces, clasping his cheeks in her hands harsh enough to jostle the blade, still fixed in his grip. “Callum! Listen to me.”

He does, watching tears dance in her eyes, her lips tremble, her blood smear across her palm, against his face.

“I love you.”

His knuckles ache, and it feels wrong to answer.

But he does.

She smiles at him, and that feels wrong too.

“Together or not at all, right?” she says, each word weaker than the last. “Like you said?”

Callum nods, swallowing thickly.

Rayla needs him.

“So, we have to get out of here.” Her bloody hand leaves his face and she shudders again as she touches her wound. “It’s—it’s not that deep. We…have to take it out.”

He questions her, mouth dry, eyes like magnets back to her blade.

“We can’t get out like this,” she answers, glassy eyes following his, her breath forced through the barest hint of the weakest semblance of a laugh. Before he can say anything more, Rayla braces herself against him, pushing away to spare him, he thinks, from having to hurt her any more than he already has, but—

She cries out, and Callum can’t—

“I can’t,” she gasps, seizing his shoulder tight, cheeks wan with the effort and streaked with tears. “You…have to do it.”

He can’t—

“Callum, please,” Rayla begs, like he’d never ever make her do for anything else. “Listen to me. You have to do this. I…I think I’m gonna go down, and that means you have to do this. You have to take it out, you have to stop the bleeding, and you have to make sure we get back to Ez and Soren.”

Rayla’s hand lays over his again, squeezing his white-knuckled grip beneath.

“You have to.”

Rayla needs him.

Callum can’t—

—but he does.

—and Rayla falls, crashing into him, knees in the dirt, blood seeping from her belly,

“T-told you,” she whispers weakly, her eyes fluttering shut—

—and he’s alone again.

[raayllum]

So as we all know, with the exception of last year, the Rayllum corner has a habit of having a Rayllum month in July, on account of both our kiddos’ birthdays falling within two weeks of each other (the 15th and 31st respectively). However, with S5 Ocean also dropping sometime in July, I thought it’d be prudent to schedule something more tentative. 

The technical dates I’m considering are June 17th to July 1st, featuring two weeks of Rayllum angst -- I mean goodness! However, I could see merit in pushing it back further if we get a later month release date. Like previous Rayllum month events, it’s two days for each prompt, giving you more of a chance to enjoy all the lovely fanworks as well as prepare your own! Fanart, fanfiction, headcanon lists, analysis, prediction posts, rewatches, playlists, and anything and everything else is more than welcome! I did my best to tailor the prompts to the specific post-S4, pre-S5 hype, but as always these are suggestions! Anything that fits the “s5 speculation” Rayllum vibe is 100% encouraged.

Sunday June 17th: Flowers 

Tuesday June 19th: Possession

Thursday June 21st: Reconciliation

Saturday June 23rd: Swords / Coins

Monday June 25th: First Kiss (Again)

Wednesday June 27th: End of the World

Friday June 29th: Water

NSFW and more explicit/violent content is definitely welcome so long as it is tagged accordingly. While there are lots of possible angst factors to explore in the upcoming season - TTM fallout, angsting over Runaan, dark magic, and possession - fluff is also very very welcome! Tags for the event will be #Rayllum week 2023 (with spaces) and #Rayllum’s bad vibes rodeo (with spaces).

If you have any questions my ask box is open and I hope we all have a lovely time creating, planning, and enjoying this final S5 hurrah!

[blutopaz15]

rayllum week 2023: first kiss (again)

rated t

1k

continued from part 1: flowers

He probably doesn’t want to kiss her, and honestly…it’s okay.

She doesn’t blame him.

Spending her birthday like this—giggling together over each of their silly little traditions, feeling Callum’s lips on her cheek and his breath on her neck, being here in his arms at all—is more than she should hope for anyway, Rayla thinks.

She swallows down the obnoxiously ungrateful prickling wetness stinging her eyes. She should be glad, she tells herself, that he’s holding her like this, long past the limits of any normal hug. She should be satisfied swaying in place with him, like they’d done at that party back at the castle such a long time ago.

She should be happy that he wants her here at all.

She’d left him, she’d hurt him, and he was still here, all wrapped up around her… and that should be enough, she thinks. She should be thankful, not standing here in the world’s longest hug, still wishing for more.

She is thankful…and he should know.

She scarcely more than whispers the words, reluctant to end the silence in case it ends his embrace too.

Callum just shrugs, though, with a nonchalant, hushed answer—like it’s two years ago and holding on to her so tightly is still the most normal, most natural thing in the world—and she can’t help how she sinks just a little further into him, shifting her weight into his shoulders…and, yeah.

This is enough.

Or…at least it ought to be.

She sighs happily anyway, though, breathing in deep against his collar, wanting to be sure he gets every last layer to her gratitude: “I wasn’t sure if you even remembered.”

“Wait, what?” he says, hands at her elbows, and her heart drops for just a second as he pushes her away…before she sees the mixed-up look on his face. He’s…confused, and maybe amused?, she thinks, and the furrow to his brow reads as pity, too. “You thought I’d forgotten your birthday?”

That’s definite and distinct disbelief, she’s sure, and Callum steps away completely then, finding his sketchbook on one of the tables behind them and immediately flipping through. Rayla follows him, and watches as he opens up to a page she hasn’t seen in a long while…that’s even more full-up than she recalls. It’d been just the one sketch of their knit-together hands that she remembers him drawing that night on the ambler…but the same page is covered in more of the same now. He points, though, to the words scrawled all over the spaces between the pictures, which is what she’s meant to see, she realizes, recognizing the answers to all those questions that’d barely kept their lips apart that night in the desert.

purple

Moonberry Surprise (???)

Just me and Ez…

July 31st (16th birthday soon!!!)

“Even if I did forget—”

She follows his tapping fingertip to the end of the list he must have jotted down between the desert and the Spire, heart twisting and thumping in her chest.

“I wouldn’t, though,” he adds, keeping the same smile he’d had looking at these old pages when he blinks over to her. “I wouldn’t forget.”

Rayla bites her lip, hoping there’s not offense she hadn’t meant beneath his reassurances. Telling herself that—that he’d forgotten—had been a bandage, really, for doubts way deeper than any scatterbrained distraction could be, and knowing now that none of her worrying had been warranted anyway…

“Right,” she agrees, looking back down at all their interwoven fingers in his book before admitting the rest. “I guess…thinking you forgot—or that you were too busy to remember—was better than the alternative. I thought maybe…you might be too mad about your birthday to want anything to do with mine.”

Callum’s smile has fallen away when she looks back at him, the candlelight dancing in his eyes now a gentle, low glow instead…and he reaches for her elbow again.

“Oh, Rayla, no, I—” he starts, withdrawing as he amends his answer…but before she can shrink back to match, he’s found his way to her hands again. “I mean, yes, I’m upset still, but…I’m not mad, not like I was, I promise. That’d just make everything worse. I care about you, Rayla—”

His fingers slip lightly around hers, and then they’re face-to-face again, eye-to-eye, practically nose-to-nose, and it’d be so nice if they could just…

“—and I don’t want to hurt you.”

But this is enough, Rayla reminds herself.

She left him. She hurt him.

“I never wanted to hurt you either, Callum,” she starts, those annoying tears burning in her eyes again. “I—”

—but before she can go on, over the same things that she can’t seem to say enough, Callum’s hand squeezes tight around hers.

“I know,” he says, voice as strong as his grip, then slipping to a lower soothing sound. “I know. Look, Rayla…I want to fix—”

Callum pulls their linked hands up between them…and again, she has to stop wishing for more—his lips on her knuckles, his fingers on her face—

“—this. Our…thing. Whatever it is.”

Somehow his lips are closer when he lowers their hands again, and he’s smiling, and—

—and she wants that too.

So badly.

“It’s…whatever you want it to be, Callum,” she answers, speedily, certain of every word. “Whatever you want, I’ll be here, okay? If you need more time, even if you never get there again…I just missed you, Callum. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I couldn’t—”

There’s no time for her eyes to flutter shut or her tongue to wet her lips or her breath to fall against his cheek before he crashes into her just like before—his arms locked around her waist, his heartbeat against her chest—

…his lips soft and gentle and sweet.

“If you’re here…” Callum breathes between them, eyes asking as much as his mouth.

She nods, breathless, fingertips flexing in his scarf.

“I’m here.”

“Then, I’m there.”

…and that’s enough.