#and Callum cherishes him very much

[huntress-of-stories-and-dreams]

Headcanon #80

As time passes, Bait spends more and more time with Callum since Ezran focuses on his mind bond with Zym.

#tdp #tdp headcanons #the dragon prince #tdp callum #tdp ezran #tdp bait #tdp zym #tdp azymondias #justice for bait #post season 3 #bait is an amazing companion #and Callum cherishes him very much #you can see it in season 2 #but not only #Ezran bashing

[hozierandco]

Callum Turner x Reader - The match-maker (Pt. 1)

AN: A few months ago (oopsie), someone requested that I write about Y/N meeting Callum Turner through Austin Butler, a common friend. TW: none except maybe drama regarding past relationships. No smut.

I've changed the set from L.A that was originally requested to New York but it's only to squeeze in gowns and a red (pinkish?) carpet. Part 2 will be up very soon.

If you have any requests, do send a message, I love receiving them. I take requests on Hozier, Callum Turner and Robert Pattinson mostly but feel free to contact me for whoever :)

_________________________________________________

Y/N could count on Austin to get her through ups and downs. Ever since they had met in primary school back in Anaheim, they had grown a strong relationship. They had been through so much together and considered each other to be like brother and sister. When Y/N was not at Austin’s, then it was Austin being at Y/N’s house. 

If at some point, they had thought of getting together as they knew each other so well and had grown out to be beautiful young people besides being beautiful souls, they had abandoned the idea as they cherished their friendship too much for any of the drama. That being said, they LOVED talking about their more or less chaotic experiences when it came to the subject of relationships. Austin had far more luck on that one than her as, after being with Vanessa Hudgens for so long, he had found his significant other responding by the name of Kaia Gerber. 

Kaia was great to her best friend and Y/N sensed that she was ready to commit to such a relationship as she noticed the two blooming. For years, Y/N had nourished disastrous relationships with men, between those who cheated on her, those who needed a nurse rather than a lover and those who just ghosted her. Austin had always been there to support her through break ups and was ready for her to meet someone new that she could trust. It pained him to see her feeling less and less self-confident because of the attitude of some jerks.

*** On the set of Masters of the Airs. Newland Park, February, the 14th of 2022 ***

Austin had begun working on an upcoming TV show in which he was fulfilling one of his boyhood’s dreams of becoming a pilot. It was one of many perks of becoming an actor and he had the chance to fulfill that dream with his colleagues that he had learnt to call his friends. Among them, he mostly loved working with Callum Turner.

He had seen him in productions such as War and Peace and Emma but never had the opportunity to work with him, nor to meet him. Since the beginning of the show’s filming, the two of them had become good friends, sharing most of their time on and off set together.

They found themselves to have many shared interests but what Austin liked the most about his colleague and friend was his integrity. He had not met a humble actor like him in a while and it was a fresh view for him who had gotten used to obnoxious people in the industry. 

Austin did not think of Callum to be a great match for Y/N from the beginning, nor in fact did he think of taking the role of a match-maker at all. But it struck him on a strange day, in February of 2022. Well, to put some context there, it was Valentine’s Day and Austin hated not having the opportunity to spend it with Kaia. He grunted all day about this missed chance to which Callum, always so light-hearted, made him aware that he could be happy to have a Valentine to wish it to.

Callum was not the sort of man to talk about his personal life to anyone but he had known Austin for the past seven months. He felt as though he was ready to share more information about him, such as his traumatic past when it came to dating. And of course, that resonated with what Austin was hearing from Y/N. 

By 2 pm London time (6 am L.A time), Austin was trying to comfort Callum about the fact he had no Valentine to celebrate while by 9 pm London time (1 pm L.A time), Austin was receiving a text from Y/N complaining about not having a boyfriend to go on a date with. It did not take much thinking for Austin to come up with a plan.

In the next few weeks, he tried to convey some hints towards Callum, letting him know that his best friend was the greatest person he had ever met while simultaneously texting Y/N about how excited he was to be playing with no less than Callum Turner.

Mind you, Y/N had already heard of that name somewhere. It rang a bell but she did not know much about his filmography and quite frankly, did not bother looking any further than that. She was just happy that her best friend could play with someone that he apparently was fanboying over.

And Callum… What is there to say? He was completely oblivious about those hints that Austin made more and more obvious. It was as though he did not think to be worthy of her if she was as great as Austin described her to be.

Austin was convinced that the two should give it a go as Callum expressed interests for things Y/N was crazy about or that time when he mentioned that he had a dog that was looking just like Y/N’s childhood dog. And yeah, lots of people have a dog growing up and like music and photography but Austin was a sucker for a good love story. Screw that, he would be a match-maker, he decided as the Met Gala was near. He had to do something about it.

*** Met Gala. New York, May, the 2nd of 2022 ***

Finally, Austin had gotten back from the set of Masters of the Airs for a stay in New York. He was determined to enjoy his night at the Met Gala along with his girlfriend and had insisted that Callum join him, letting him know that it would do him good to go on a trip and forget about yet another date gone wrong.

It did not take much convincing as Callum was tired of staying in England for so long and had not seen New York in years because of Covid. Though he was not invited to the Met Gala, he was more than happy to attend it vicariously through his friend and his friend’s girlfriend. 

It was somewhat more difficult to convince Y/N to come to New York as she was a girl from the West who only came to the East in case of an emergency. The Met Gala surely was no emergency from her but Austin could not let go of his plan that easily. 

If there was something Y/N cared truly about, it was Austin of course but also her career as a photographer. And though she personally had no intention of following the Met Gala, Austin had made calls here and there to squeeze a spot as one of the official photographers of the event.

Y/N had repeatedly asked Austin not to go full-on nepotism with her as she saw him getting famous. She wanted her career to be defined only by her work and not by the people she counted as friends so when Austin told her the opportunity he had ahead of her, she first scolded him for that but it also was clear that she had no job offer as huge as this one. 

She made him promise that it would be last time he interceded in her career while thanking him for the occasion. She packed her suitcase and left to the airport.

#callum turner x reader #callum turner #fluff #fanfic #met gala 2022 #austin butler as side character

[major-mads]

Chapter 3: Listen to Your Heart

John "Bucky" Egan x Ruth Morgan (OFC)

Series Masterlist

A/N: I'm so glad y'all are enjoying the series!! Thank you so much for reading!! Us Callum girlies sure got some...cough cough...quality content in episode four, that's for sure! Let me know what you think, and go read the other half of the story using the link below!!! this wonderful gif is by @zsuo!

Collab: On a Wing and a Prayer by @footprintsinthesxnd

Word Count: 4.7k

August 3rd, 1943

Ruthie, Since Saturday night, you have rarely left my mind. I replay the dance in my head, trying to commit every detail to memory. I love being around you, Ruth. I couldn’t imagine the night going any better than it did, and I’m so glad that you stepped outside of your comfort zone to come with me. Curt’s been giving me a hard time about embarrassing you when I sang, but I told him you loved it, even if I sound like a “dying animal” in Buck’s words.  Speaking of Buck, I’ve decided to never let him live down Saturday’s condom incident with Hope. Hugh sure isn’t letting it go, so I can’t help but join in on the fun. Despite that, I think he had a great time with her, even though he’s a total stick in the mud. I can’t believe they didn’t dance, Ruthie! Our dance was my favorite part of the night, besides how we said goodnight, of course.

I would really like to see you again soon, Ruth. It’s no secret that I’m taken with you, and I think you feel the same. We’re spending the next few weeks replacing crews and forts, so we won’t be too busy. If you’re able, please stop by and pay me a visit. At the sight of your sweet, kind smile, and the feeling of your hand in mine, my worries seem to disappear. The only worry left in my mind is that my efforts to convert you to a Yankees fan won’t be successful. I hold onto the hope that you’ll see that the Braves are terrible and that the Yankees are the better team. The Braves went 11 and 18 this past month, and my amazing team went 21 and 11. You can’t argue against stats, slugger. I hope this won’t affect your feelings toward me because then we might have a problem. I can’t wait to see you again soon. Please stay safe up there for me.  Your Hotshot, Johnny Egan

August 6th, 1943

Dear John, I am happy to hear that you and the boys are finally getting a break. When we were at the dance, I knew y’all were exhausted, but you sure didn’t show it, Major. You danced and sang like there was no tomorrow, and I had more fun than I had in a long while in your arms. Don’t worry about what Curt or Buck said. I loved your singing, even if it was slightly off-key and very loud. You might have embarrassed me, but seeing you in your element was worth it.  Every time I think back to that night, my heart begins to race and I can’t help but smile at the thought of you. I’m so very grateful that you decided to bring me along. Somehow you manage to turn me into a giddy, blushing teenager every time you cross my mind. Our kiss is a cherished memory of mine, and forgive me for being forward, but I hope that we can make more of such memories in the future.  Hope had an amazing time with Gale at the dance, and apparently, he wasn’t as much of a “stick in the mud” as you think. I’m sworn to secrecy, but know that they are very fond of each other already. When we got back to Grove the day after the dance, we told Frank what happened with…the incident, and he thought it was hilarious! He even said that he “did his job well,” whatever that means.  I would love nothing more than to come see you, but sadly, I don’t know when I’ll be able. Casualties from Italy are getting worse with the invasion of Sicily underway, and we’ve been on runs almost every day since we got back from the dance. Regardless of this, the first chance we get, Hope and I will make our way up to Thorpe Abbotts.  I can’t wait to see you again, Johnny, but the blatant slander against the Braves might damage your chances of getting another kiss. We’ll just have to agree to disagree on this because I promise you I am not going to be converted. After all, a little friendly rivalry never hurt anyone, right? Don’t hurt yourself falling off your bike during your break. Yours,  Ruth Morgan P.S. I would like to meet Meatball the next time I visit the base!

Sunday, August 8th, 1943: Thorpe Abbotts AAF Base, Norwich

The mess hall buzzed with energy as Buck and Johnny sat at breakfast with Curt, who slowly moved his powdered eggs around on his plate with his fork. 

“I can’t eat this shit anymore,” he groaned, pushing the plate away from him.

John took a slow sip of his “coffee,” raising an eyebrow at the man. “Then don’t eat it.”

“Oh wow,” Biddick quipped. “What a great idea, Bucky. I’d never thought of that.”

The major smirked behind his mug and shot his friend a wink. Buck watched on in amusement, used to the two going back and forth as he and John did.

Leaning his elbows on the table, Curt leaned over the table toward John with a teasing glare. “Have you heard anything from Ruthie? Has she mentioned me? I thought I made a good first impression the other night.”

“Hmm,” Johnny hummed, pursing his lips for a moment before pointing at Biddick. “That’s Nurse Morgan to you, you dodo. I’m surprised you even remember anything from the dance with how drunk you were.”

“Oh I couldn’t forget a face like that,” he chuckled.

John’s eyes narrowed playfully as he clasped his hands together and leaned on the table. “Well it’s a good thing for me that she could forget yours, then,” he clapped back. “And you’re not the one she kissed goodnight.”

Buck rolled his eyes and continued to eat his breakfast as Egan’s loud, wide-mouthed cackle echoed through the mostly quiet mess hall. Curt then turned to Gale with a raised brow. “How about Hope-”

“Nope,” Buck interrupted calmly, raising his cup and taking a sip of his steaming coffee.

The other two men watched him as a tiny grin formed on the Major’s lips. Although he didn’t talk about it much, they could tell Buck had already developed deep feelings for the woman. 

Raising his eyebrows at Curt, John grinned. “Oh boy.”

“You’ve got it bad, Buck,” Biddick laughed, his hand landing on Gale’s shoulder roughly. “You gotten a reply to your letter yet?”

Thinking of the perfectly folded letter from Ruth he’d picked up that morning sitting in his breast pocket, John smiled down at his food, warmth spreading through him at the thought of the blonde. Buck, however, pursed his lips and shook his head at the question.

“I actually haven’t written her yet,” he sighed, running a hand down his face. “I want-”

“What!?” Johnny all but yelled, his eyes widening as coffee almost spewed from his mouth. “Why the hell not, Buck? I already sent one to Ruth and got a response.”

Gale groaned and put down his fork with a clink. “Because of Hugh.”

“Why are you so worried about Charlie?” Curtis asked, wearing a confused expression.

“Because he’s in my squadron. And he’s her brother.”

John pointed and leaned over the table at him. “Hope’s a big girl, Buck. She can make her own decisions. Screw what Hugh says.”

“But-” Gale started but was once again cut off by Bucky.

“He’s gonna hate you even more if he thinks you're leading her on. You not sending Hope a letter isn’t making anything better,” he said, a smirk beginning to tug at his lips as he continued. “On top of the condom situation.” 

John and Curt busted out into chuckles as Buck just groaned, closing his eyes tightly. “Oh, please don’t remind me.”

The ideal chatter was disturbed by the door to the mess hall swinging back on its hinges with a crash, followed by heavy footfall as Hugh all but stormed through the building like a tornado. He snatched a mug off a table and poured himself a steaming cup of black coffee before marching past the trio, staring daggers at Gale who looked up worriedly from his breakfast. 

Curt’s eyes followed the man as he walked in, muttering under his breath, “Speak of the devil.”

"Good morning to you, too, Sparky," John called out with a small wave as he walked by, only to be met with deafening silence from the other pilot. 

Hugh's harsh glare was burning a hole in the back of Gale’s skull and he thought any second now he’d come into his brain and it would be lights out. 

“You’ve really pissed him off this time, Buck, and you didn’t even get his sister into bed,” John laughed heartily, taking a long swig from his whiskey and coffee, it was most likely more whiskey than coffee but Gale humored him. 

“Will you give it a rest? I’m already getting it from Hugh without your added input,” Gale stabbed aggressively at his scrambled eggs, willing the eyes of the room to stop looking at him. 

Curt snorted beside him, waving his fork around. “Well, I’m telling you boys, if I’d have had Hope in my arms and she’d bought condoms with her, let’s just say she wouldn’t have been going back home with them.” 

That was the final straw. 

Gale slammed his fist down on the table, ignoring the way Johnny jumped in his seat, spilling his coffee over the table, and the way several chunks of his scrambled egg disappeared onto the floor.

“You say anymore slander about my girl, Biddick and I swear…”

“Your girl, Buck?” John raised his right eyebrow, an amused smirk on his lips as his mustache twitched. “She’s your girl and you haven’t even written her yet?”

Sometimes Gale wished he could rip that stupid mustache off John’s face, but he kept his cool. 

It would seem that Hugh had heard the whole commotion. His chair screeching back from the table, he stomped up between the tables once more, his glare never leaving Gale until the door slammed shut behind him. 

Buck groaned, unsure if it was in relief or at the impending doom that he was likely to suffer if this debacle continued. Without a second thought, he excused himself from the table, ignoring the calls of protest from John and Curt, and hurried after Hugh. 

“Hugh! Hugh, wait up. Please, I want to talk to you,” Gale jogged after the tall brunette whose face turned sour the instant he noticed him.

The door quickly closed behind him, and Curt looked at the major across from him with a guilty expression. “I was just joking, Bucky. I would never-”

“Ahh don’t worry about it,” John said as he sipped on his coffee. “He knows that. Like you said, Buck’s got it bad and this thing with Hugh has been eating at him since Saturday.” 

Biddick nodded to himself, his eyes lingering on the door. “Do you think Hugh’ll let it go?”

“For Buck’s sake, I do…I think he will. Doesn’t mean I won’t still rag Buck about it, though.” 

“Yeah,” Curt mumbled, staring down at his plate.

Neither man spoke for a few moments, each lost in their thoughts until Bucky wiped his mouth with his napkin and stood up. “I’ve got a letter to write. See you later, Curt.”

“I never thought I’d live to see the day,” Biddick replied. “Bucky Egan writing a love letter. Looks like Buck isn’t the only one who’s got it bad.”

John tugged his white-fleece jacket back into place and chuckled at his friend. “Don’t go all soft on me.”

“I think it suits you, John. Really,” he urged, a soft smile on his lips. “You seem happier.”

Staring at him for a moment, Bucky didn’t quite know how to respond. He felt happier. He had something to look forward to other than getting drunk at the bar or the adrenaline rush he got when the sound of .50 cal brownings echoed through his fort. John placed his cap back on his head, and with a curt nod, turned toward the door.

His tie suddenly became too tight around his throat as he pushed through the doors into the cool English air, and he quickly loosened it, letting it hang limply as he took a deep breath. In that moment, John Egan had a profound realization.

Since he came over to England in May, he had been simply going through the motions, replaying the same days over and over: Wake up…Fly forts…Bomb targets…Get drunk…Show a woman a good time…then start the cycle again the next day. For someone with such a passionate personality, he lacked the feeling that he so deeply desired. Curt could vouch for this, being the one to knock some feeling back into him a few months back on the wing of Mugwump.

But since that day in July when the nurses landed on their small base in East Anglia, feeling had slowly been creeping back into his life. He first felt it when Ruth caught him staring, and was soon captivated by her dimpled smile and capable personality. The numbness that had become so familiar to him faded into the background when she was near, her laughter shaking free his heart a little more each time it left her lips. 

He was alive with Ruth. More alive than he felt when ME-109s whizzed past him or when flack shook his fort. More alive than when he unbuttoned a woman’s dress and laid her down. More alive than the burning sensation that traveled down his throat when he downed another shot at the bar.

Over the past few weeks, the blonde nurse had somehow burrowed into his jaded exterior and broken down the walls he didn’t even know existed. 

John’s mind reeled as he silently mounted his bike and rode to the base HQ. The ride passed in a blur, and before he knew it, he was sitting at his desk, staring down at the blank sheet of paper before him. He hadn’t had a problem writing her before, so why was this any different?

How was he supposed to convey such profound feelings in a letter?

He started simply, letting his mind imagine her there beside him.

“Dear Ruth.”

Thursday, August 12, 1943: Termini Imerese, Sicily, Italy

“You ready girls!” Frank called over his shoulder, glancing as Hope and Ruth took the stretcher from the medics below them and loaded the last wounded soldier onto the rack. Hope pulled out her flight manifest and checked off the final patient to board. The young boy reached out, grasping her hand. 

“Nurse,” his voice cracking as he tried to grab her attention. He was so young, barely eighteen years old. His bright blue eyes, glossy and hazy, gazed up at her. 

“Yes, My Love,” Hope crouched down, clasping the boy's hand in one of hers while her other brushed away his brunette locks from his face. She tried to stop her eyes from drifting down his body to where only stumps of his legs remained, the burnt flesh wrapped neatly in crisp bandages. 

“You’re an angel,” he whispered and Hope smiled sweetly at him, squeezing his hand. “When I write home, I’m gonna tell my Momma ‘bout you.” 

A single tear trickled down her cheek and she leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead and watching until he drifted off to sleep. His delicate, young features were no longer etched with worry, and the hard lines across his forehead softened as the morphine began to take effect. 

Hope turned, watching as Ruth comforted one of the other young men further down the plane who had managed to remove some of his bandages. 

“Hey, don’t do that, you need those,” Ruth tutted quietly, helping the Private sit up a little so she could secure fresh, white bandages around his bloody arm. The poor boy grumbled under his breath as Ruth tucked in the end. “Now leave ‘em be, okay?”

The young boy nodded, shifting uncomfortably in his cot. They weren’t the most comfortable racks, just cool metal bars lining the hammock-like beds that swayed as the C-47 rocked through the sky. 

Hope took her seat beside Ruth, who had finished trying to redress the soldier's wounds, smiling briefly at her friend, who wore the same exhausted expression she did.

“I can’t wait to get back to the Grove. I need a warm bath and my bed,” Ruth mumbled, stretching out her aching muscles that screamed against the tension in her body. 

“Oh don’t say that, Rue. We’ve still got to drop these poor boys off at the hospital in Mateur.” Ruth just groaned in response. 

The dance with the boys had been their last outing in a while. It was the last time Hope hadn’t felt completely exhausted. She’d been relaxed, able to let go, and safe in Gale’s arms. 

This trip had been hard. The plane was at full capacity and when they arrived on the airfield at Termini Imerese, Sicily, they were instantly thrown into action. The girls disappeared into the makeshift hospitals that lined the airfield, the white tents flapping in the harsh wind that did little to cool the heat from the scorching midday sun. 

Hope and Ruth conferred with the surgeons, assessing and stabilizing patients that were safe to fly, meaning that many of the young men with head injuries or who had suffered significant blood loss would be unable to fly due to the unpressurized aircraft cabins. Many of the men didn’t have emergency medical tags, so the girls had to make their own assessments for many of the patients. 

The thrumming roar of the C-47’s engine erupting to life always brought a great sense of comfort to Hope, along with an impending sense of fear in unison. This job, while rejuvenating her youth through the exhilarating flights and the lives they saved, aged her with each passing moment spent in the air, because after every successful landing she was left with the feeling that although they had saved lives, they couldn’t save them all. This weighed heavily on both of the women.

Frank and his fellow pilot chatted hastily in the cockpit, their muffled voices cracking through over the radio. As soon as the plane leveled out Hope and Ruth stood, each taking a side of the plane and beginning the checkups on their patients, recording their temperature, pulse, and respiration as well as checking there was no strike through of blood from their dressings. The girls worked quickly, only conferring on their patients' conditions. 

It always amazed Hope how quickly their work changed them, on the flight over Ruth had been once again telling her about the letter she’d received from John. Hope feared she could probably quote Ruth’s letter herself by now, but she never complained, pleased that Ruth was finally coming out of herself. 

Hope had her own letter from Gale tucked into her top overall pocket, over her heart. His words burned into her flesh and she felt as though he was right there beside her all along. 

Having dropped off the soldiers at the large US hospital in Mateur, Tunisia, the C-47 headed home. The mood was somber as the large metal bird rattled its way across Europe towards England. 

Ruth’s eyes had closed about half an hour before, and Hope didn’t have the heart to wake her up. She looked so peaceful, the wrinkles that normally appeared when she smiled were smoothed away, and her blonde locks fell softly from where she had so lovingly pinned them that very morning. 

Hope took Gale’s letter out of her pocket, smoothing out the creases that had poked around the edge of the page. Words of affirmation sprung out at her and a smile was instantly cemented to her lips as she relieved the last moments with him. 

The flight home always seemed quicker, and soon ‘The Angel of Death’ was touching down on the runway. Hope helped a rather sleepy Ruth off the plane and waved goodnight to Frank, who chuckled in amusement at the blonde’s incoherent murmurs, some of them sounding an awful lot like the name of her beloved major.

 “Goodnight Ladies.” 

“Come on, Rue. Let’s get you home,” Hope wrapped her arm around her sleepy friend, leading the way to the Nissan huts they were billeted in. 

Some of the other nurses were still stationed in Africa and so they currently had the hut to themselves. Hope lay Ruth down on the bed, smiling as she snuggled closer into the pillow.

So much for a warm bath…

Hope would rag her about it later, but she couldn’t deny that the stress of the day was getting to her too, but something restless kept her from falling into her own bed. Instead, Hope sat at the small desk in the corner, pulling out a piece of paper and a pen. She pulled Gale’s crumpled letter from her pocket, smoothed it flat onto the desk, and began writing her reply.

The following day, the girls finally had a day off, and as much as they wanted to make the trip up to Thorpe Abbotts, the nurses were so exhausted that they barely got out of bed. 

“What time is it?” Ruth groaned, turning onto her side to hide from the bright sun peeking through the curtains. 

Getting no response, she cracked her eyes open, and a smile tugged at her lips at the sight before her. In the corner of the room, Hope’s cheek lay smushed against the desktop, her messy black hair splayed around her as she slept soundly. The corner of a paper could just barely be seen under her hair, and Ruth immediately knew what she’d fallen asleep doing.

Sighing softly, she pulled back her covers and padded over to Hope, wincing at the sting of her feet against the cold floors. “Hope,” Ruth whispered, rubbing the woman’s shoulder gently. “Come on, let’s get you into bed.”

She awoke slowly, allowing the blonde to sit her up off the desk. “Five more minutes,” Hope mumbled.

Ruth chuckled, the sound echoing through the silent hut. Luckily, Hope’s bed was directly beside the desk, so the smaller woman didn’t have to maneuver her around too much to get her onto the mattress. 

Gently laying her extra blanket over her best friend, Ruth smiled down at her. “There you go. Snug as a bug.”

She then walked over to her bed and snuggled under the covers again, but not before closing their blackout curtains, causing darkness to envelop the room once again. The warmth drew her back into her peaceful slumber, her eyes fluttering closed as her mind repeated Johnny’s latest letter:

Sunday, August 8th, 1943

Dear Ruth, I can’t wait to see you again. I know I said that in my last letter, but I’ve recently discovered that absence actually does make the heart grow fonder. I find myself waiting in anticipation for your letters the moment I send off my own, and I long to see you…to have you here next to me. Hopefully, your missions will ease soon and you’ll finally get a break, too. I understand how tiring it can be to fly day after day, and that’s without even having to take care of patients. Please take care of yourself, alright? As much as I would love to see you, please rest if you get the chance. Don’t worry about me. We’ll see each other soon enough. Today Buck finally wrote Hope back. I tried to tell him how stupid it was to wait, but he was adamant about getting Hugh’s approval. He’s a bigger man than I am, Ruth. Regardless of this, we can never let him live the incident down…ever. In response to your threat to withhold your affection from me, I say bring it on. Like I said before, you can’t argue with facts. The Yankees are the better team, and I’m going to convince you of that, so I cannot agree to disagree. I’m too stubborn to let you win, and if I’m being honest, I don’t know if you’ll be able to resist my charming personality…or the mustache. I know you love the mustache, Ruth. If you decide to follow through on your threat, I’ll shave it off. Just for you. Don’t stand between a man and kisses from his girl. It doesn’t end well for anyone. But it’s like you said, a little friendly rivalry never hurt anyone, right? Please be safe, Ruthie, and know I am thinking of you. Yours, John Egan

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Hope! Ruth! You alive in there?” a voice hollered through the hut’s door, rousing Ruth for the second time that morning. She opened her mouth to reply, but Hope beat her to it. 

“Go away, Frank!” she groaned, covering her ears with her pillow.

“It’s almost noon,” the man chuckled. “I know you’re tired but you both need to get up. We’ve got stuff to do.”

Sitting up abruptly, Ruth grabbed her watch off her small side table, her eyes widening when she read 11:43 am. She looked over to Hope who was also staring at her watch in utter disbelief.

“I haven’t slept in this much since I was a teenager,” Hope muttered under her breath before turning to Ruth, almost breaking into a fit of laughter at the blonde’s wonky curls from the day before. “We look terrible.”

Frank pounded his fist against the door, yelling, “Get up!”

“WE ARE!!” They both hollered back, unable to keep the frustration from lacing their voices.

Throwing off her covers, Hope stood to her feet and marched over to the door, swinging it open. Ruth clamored quickly out of bed to follow her, stopping right behind her shoulder as they glared at Frank. His eyes scanned the women before him, and a grimace appeared on his face at their ragged appearances. 

“Okay,” he started, raising his hands in surrender. “Go back to sleep. You look like shit, and I’d rather do things on the plane by myself than deal with your grumpy attitudes.”

They narrowed their eyes at him. “Nope. We’re awake now,” Hope retorted, smiling sweetly at him.

Sighing, Frank stepped back from the door with a barely concealed smirk. “Meet me at the hardstand.”

As Hope shut the door, Ruth flopped back on her bed, her eyes following Hope’s figure walking across the room to the desk in the corner. “How’s Gale?” she asked, propping her head up with her hand.

Hope began to neatly fold up the letter, smiling softly as she talked over her shoulder. “He’s good. Said he didn’t write because of Hugh causing problems, but he’s got his blessing now.” She turned toward Ruth with dusty pink cheeks, giggling to herself. “He even signed his last letter with ‘your Gale.’”

“Hope!” Ruth squealed, sitting up and covering her mouth with her hands. “I’m so happy for you. You deserve someone like Gale, and I’m sure Hugh sees how much he adores you.”

Hope looked down at the letter in her hands, her heart swelling at the thought of the man. “He’s amazing,” she whispered as her eyes traced over his name on the paper. After a few moments, she shook her head, seemingly clearing her thoughts, and raised an eyebrow at Ruth. “How’s John?”

It was now Ruth’s turn to blush, the tips of her ears heating up at the mention of the major. “Great…amazing…wonderful. I feel like I’ve known him so much longer than a few weeks, Hope. You know how I can get sometimes, but when I’m with him, I don’t feel nearly as anxious. And when he kissed me…I wished it could’ve lasted forever. I can’t wait to see him again.”

Sighing softly, Hope plopped down onto her bed. “Look at us, Rue. We’re like a bunch of lovesick teenagers.”

“Yeah, we are,” Ruth giggled, her mind replaying her and John’s laughter, soft touches, and tender looks from the dance. The way he held her face so delicately, how his lips-

“Come on,” Hope called, her mattress squeaking as she got up, breaking Ruth from her thoughts. “Let’s get ready so we can go annoy Frank.”

Tag List: @xxluckystrike @precious-little-scoundrel @bcofl0ve @violetdaze25 @docroesmorphine @kmc1989 @gfofsadie @artlover8992 @karashaw99 @dustyjumpwjngs @camicanos-blog @storysimp @b00ks1ut @sunny747 @leopard-skin-pillbox-hat-ok @yoongiscxr @blueberry-ovaries @sidneysidney123

message or comment if you want to be added to the tag list! <3

#masters of the air #hbo war #john egan #callum turner #gale cleven #austin butler #major buck cleven #gale buck cleven #major john egan #major john egan x oc #johnny egan #john egan x oc #major john bucky egan x oc #major john bucky egan #bucky egan #bucky egan x oc #buck cleven #johnny egan x oc #masters of the air fanfic #masters of the air fanfiction #mota fic #mota fanfic #john egan fanfiction #buck cleven x oc #hope armstrong #ruth morgan #the skytrain girls #hurt/comfort #hbowar x oc #hbowar fic

[randompoetemogirl]

Seasons 6-7 thought

I will be very disappointed if Aaravos dies. Not just because of his voice and his sparkly abs, but because TDP could do so much better than that. For as much as he’s done, Aaravos fits more into the category of anti-hero, not straight out villain. Aaravos was the one who pitied the humans, Aaravos still thinks of the apple a human gave him and cherishes that memory. If not for Aaravos, humans would have either died out or continued fighting over what little they had. We still aren’t sure why Aaravos was imprisoned, but we can guess that his sympathy of the humans was a part of the reason.

I don’t think Aaravos was 100% innocent, but I still believe his punishment was somewhat unjustified. I also don’t believe Aaravos is the main reason for conflict between elves and humans. Even though he did introduce dark magic, it was a human girl, The Orphan Queen, who exposed him. You’re telling me that even after that, the elves wanted humans banned from Xadia, or at the very least they never held some respect towards Katolis? Obviously, the seasons aren’t out yet, but I hope they cover this.

When you think about it, Claudia has really been our only true villain. Everyone else, even Viren, has been coerced, forced, or was trying to do a good thing when they did something bad. Claudia nearly killed a dragon and would have kept Rayla’s parents and paternal figure had Terry not talked to her. Think about it, Claudia lost her mother, was close to losing her dad, and was still willing to make Rayla feel the pain she felt. That is damn near sadistic. You can explain Claudia’s issues to an extent, but having mommy and daddy issues isn’t an excuse for running rampant the way Claudia has

I also find it weird that everyone is flipping out over what Ezran and Callum will do when Runaan is freed from the coun when The Dragon King killed their mother and they’re friends with his son, and The Dragon Queen literally ordered Harrow and Ezran’s deaths and they’re BFFs with her.

#Tangent #TDP #The Dragon Prince season 6 #Aaravos #Viren #Viravos #Claudia #Terry #Runaan

[mandaloriandragontrainer]

The woods were quiet, the only sounds that of the mounts’ gentle breathing and the crackles of the dying fire, its embers now too dim to rival the light of the stars. Rayla’s eyes sought them out, settling on Leola’s Last Wish. She blinked sleepily, thoroughly exhausted by the day’s journey. But she wanted to stay awake just a wee bit longer, to cling to this moment for as long as she could.

Maybe there was some wishing power in the stars after all. Because merely a week or so before, she’d been camped out on a nice patch of hard-packed dirt, with only wee Stella to keep her warm. And now she was back with him.

Callum.

She’d been wondering from the moment she saw him again how it would feel to rest her head on his wonderfully broad shoulders, and it was… oh, it was more lovely than she could’ve dreamed. He’d set his sketchbook aside and slipped his arm under the small of her back before falling asleep, his head still leaning against hers. He was heavy, and warm, and sweaty, and quite possibly drooling into her hair.

And Rayla couldn’t have been more overcome with joy.

How she loved him. How her feelings had grown only more intense, in new and almost frightening ways, in their time apart. And he’d grown. Taller, sharper, angrier. More handsome. But he was still her Callum. Tonight more than ever she knew that much to be true, in the way his green eyes sparkled and his voice quipped as he joked with her. She felt so small, and so very, completely safe in his embrace. Feeling rather bold, she brought her hand to his chest, resting it against his heart.

She knew she’d hurt him. She’s wounded him so deeply. And she would spend the rest of her life making it up to him if she had to, cherishing his dear heart the way he deserved. Because she never wished to leave his side again.

Rayla’s eyes found the star again. Yes, that would be her wish. To be here forever with Callum, where all was right with the world. Where even those three awful coins tucked away in her pocket didn’t seem so far gone. Where she was filled only with love and hope.

No, nothing could take her away from him. Not again.

#jumping on the drabble train #the dragon prince #the dragon prince: mystery of aaravos #callum #rayla #rayllum #tdp fanfic #mando writes

[kaseyskat]

does anyone remember when i was tdp on main years ago... probably not... well with s4 around the corner i got an idea to write something that will most certainly not age well and be disproven in a week, please enjoy <3

~

The mission had to be secretive. 

Despite all of Ezran's bids for peace and a new friendship with the Dragon Queen, the human nations - and Katolis especially - were still... wary, of the idea of hosting elves. It was hard enough to lobby for the friendlier Earthblood and Skywing elves to come and trade goods, but the thought of hosting Moonshadow elves after the assassinations? 

Yeah, it wasn't happening anytime in the foreseeable future. 

But this mission was different, personal. It had come only a few months after Callum's birthday, when he had desperately sent off a letter, "d chatted with Soren and with Gren for the rest of the details, had been stupidly hopeful. Despite his naive hope, he hadn't actually expected anything to come out of it; he knows her too well for that, knows her sense of pride would have her avoid everything until it stands directly in front of her, but he had still hoped... 

...well, the fruits of his labor now stands in front of him, clearly uncomfortable in the stone of the palace. 

"I appreciate your cooperation in this," Callum says as he leads the way to his own chambers. "Most of the people of Katolis are still... hesitant around Moonshadow elves." 

"I cannot say I blame them," Ethari says, and his hood drops now that he's indoors. "I must admit, I feel the same, knowing tragedy has befallen us all in this very place." 

At the very least, he's... considerate. Callum admittedly hadn't gotten the greatest impression of Rayla's pseudo-father figure in the short time they had met, except that Ethari had humored his bad jokes and had, at the very least, seemed to love Rayla very much- that had to be enough for now. 

Even now though, he droops with the heavy weight of grief, and not for the first time, Callum is reminded of all he and Ezran have fought for since the day their lives changed. 

"You got my letter, so you know why I've invited you here," he says instead, choosing to ignore the heavier nature of their conversation. "Two of the finest people I know have both testified that the leader of the assassins was kept alive before our previous high mage vanished him, and though I can't tell you exactly what happened to him..." 

"...I understand," Ethari promises, and there's a visible slump to his shoulders as they finally reach Callum's room, where he's prepared what he has found. A bow, shining with elven magic, found in Viren's own lab along with the mirror that Callum has hidden away. It could only belong to one; in fact, Callum had seen its owner wielding it only moments before it had been used to fatally end his stepfather's life. 

Some part of him, bitter and vindictive, had wanted to destroy the bow in vengeance. Instead, he had polished it and kept it as a reminder that even his enemies have families and lives of their own. 

"I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you," he says as Ethari grasps at the bow, holds it like a long-lost friend, close and tight to his own heart. It reminds him of the way King Harrow had cherished everything of his mother's after she died; everything including Callum himself, though he only realizes this in the bittersweet ache of hindsight. 

And yet, as he remembers what he had seen in the lair of the Dragon Queen, remembers the fate that he just needs evidence to prove, he keeps quiet. No need for false hope, not yet, not when he doesn't even know if there's a cure. 

"What you have done is more than enough, I know what he took from you as well," Ethari says remorsefully, and he finally looks up at Callum once again. "But I know you did not draw me all the way from Xadia just to gift me Runaan's bow. What troubles you?" 

Callum hesitates, and then commits. "It's Rayla," he confesses. “She’s been gone for months now, and I… worry. She hasn’t talked to you?” 

He doesn’t know what he’s expecting. Somehow, he had hoped that maybe, just maybe, Rayla’s first stop after disappearing had been to drop by the Silvergrove. He doesn’t even know if she’s still Ghosted, and the way Ethari’s face falls seems to confirm what he had been fearing.  

“Rayla is… free-spirited,” Ethari says, and his lips curl in the barest form of a smile. “She loves hard, but she also has a sense of… righteousness and duty, the kind of person who’d risk everything on a whim for what she believes is right. She’s done this time and time again, and it seems this time, you were the casualty and not the cause. It’s hard being the one left behind, isn’t it?” 

Callum sighs, and his heart aches in his chest as he stares forlorn at the ground. “I just wish I had been enough for her to stay,” he admits, and it comes out wretched, hollow. It’s nothing he hasn’t thought before, but he’s kept them buried, not wanting to put the pressure of his own problems on Ezran or Soren, not this time. 

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Ethari steps forwards, gently placing a hand on Callum’s shoulder. It draws Callum out of his self-inflicted stupor, and he can’t help but relax at the way Ethari looks at him; it feels strangely comforting. “One day, she will come right back to you as though nothing has changed and preaching about her goals and what she’s accomplished, just as you two did to me. When that day comes, make sure to stop by the Silvergrove again, will you? I’ll ensure that you two receive a safe welcome.” 

The implications - that maybe, Ethari will be able to remove Rayla’s ghost status in her town, has Callum breathing a sigh of relief. “Will do,” he grins, and a thought occurs to him. “You know, in some weird way, you’re probably the closest thing I have to a father figure left, too.” 

“Ah, is that so?” Ethari chuckles, and he slings the bow across his back, still holding it with gentle hands. “Ah, to be a single father at my age… might as well break my back now.” 

Callum laughs, and despite the circumstances, he’s finally feeling… not better, but maybe okay with the situation. 

Besides, he thinks as he sees Ethari off again, it probably won’t be too long before I see Rayla again. 

Right? 

#kasey writes stuff #the dragon prince #the dragon prince spoilers #ttm spoilers #callum #ethari #the rayllum and ruthari are both heavily implied but not technically enough to tag #i just needed them to have a conversation i apologize #this is the first thing ive written that WASNT amphibia in so long now it feels unnatural

[jedijourneys]

Korrin’s Journal; Entry Three

What an inspiring day. An exhausting, thrilling, and curious day. The water of the stream is cold, and yet I have found peace in its current, soothing the ankles even as it freezes the toes. There is a homesickness that rears at me, the head of an ocean leviathan peering at me with bittersweet eyes. Home. But I blink it away, and tell myself sternly, the sea is the home of my body, but the Jedi are the home of my heart. There is a glee in everything I see, a pleasure and affection for every small stone, every flake of snow, every fish in the stream, every thranta in the sky. I would have thought the temple grounds would be old by now. The sights would become bland. The crisp air would start to taste no different than any other world I've explored. But no. There is an awakening in my spirit, my very soul, it beats in my veins, a warmth like fire.

In my eyes, I see with nothing but appreciation. I cherish every blade of grass, every wave on the water, every droplet of dew, every wisp of frost upon the cold wind. There is such a beauty in all things in this galaxy, a beauty I never could have noticed before, and yet there it is, so powerful that I can nearly feel it just as easily as a stone in my palm. Once, I was blind. Now, I can finally see. The force has granted me a life that brings meaning and wisdom. A chance of redemption. I shall return this gift with unequivocal reverence. I will study, learn, and grow. The Jedi have my loyalty and dedication. And should they ever have need, I shall ensure that they will also have my blade.

The morning passed with mediation on the ice. The frigid fingers of mountain air against my skin. When my limbs became numb and stinging, I crossed into the sunlit afternoon, and made my way to the Archives. It is quiet there, peaceful. The room is warmly lit and cozy. The shelves whisper my name. I looked for anything solid that could be found on force ghosts, but it was a futile affair. I suppose I'll just have to reach out to those who claim to have seen one, though I only know of one so far. Zenteal. And even so, she seemed uncertain of her own experience when she admitted to it during that class. It can wait. I should be focusing on other things at the moment. When I am a Knight, I will look into this matter again. I did learn of this wonderful recipe, or at least, I think it might be wonderful. I've yet to try making it for myself. Cooking has always been an interest of mine, but not one that I've ever had much time to pursue. Even so, I've stored away this 'Sweetmelon cinnamon pie' recipe for a later date. I am determined to attempt baking it eventually. And I'd might as well look into other recipes as well, when I have the free time.

Class late this afternoon was called 'Path of Study', and it documented the many paths that Jedi could take within their respective schools. For Consulars, such as myself, we were expected to find a place within Healing, Diplomacy, or Lorekeeping. I think everyone already knows which of these I will pursue. Of course, Rangers were mentioned as well, but that doesn't seem quite like something I'd be interested in when Lorekeeping is right there. There was a new student in the class, a shy fellow. His name was Callum, and he was submissive and uncertain. I certainly hope he grows to be confident one day soon. He'll need to be. I did notice him staring at me during class, though. I wonder if he's ever seen or met a nautolan before? Perhaps not. Or maybe he's simply curious about my people. I offered to answer his questions, but that just seemed to spook him. I won't push the matter. If he ever wants to talk, I'd be happy to oblige him.

Guardians seem to be the figureheads of the order. When anyone thinks of a heroic Jedi with a gleaming blue lightsaber, valiantly protecting the innocent from harm, Guardians are often what they picture. At least in my experience. They are the frontline fighters. Sentinels are technologically gifted, and capable of learning a special technique called Mechu-Deru. I have since looked into this, though I was aware of how late it was getting. Curiously, Mechu-Deru was an ability created by the Sith, and it imbued the user with a great knowledge of technology on a level that was enhanced with the force. It has since been adapted to the light, of course, though even so, few Sentinels practice it. Still, it is fascinating to read about.

Mystics are very mysterious, and don't share their secrets with those outside of their school. As you can imagine, my curiosity is burning, but I do understand the need for confidentiality in important matters. I will respect their secrecy.

In any case, Tam'a'ryth was a very patient teacher. She told me that some Consular classes were being revamped, and some lesser taught ones would be making a resurgence. I am greatly looking forward to these.

After class, I returned to the stream to feel the current of the water. Freezing, as always, but still soothing. A small group gathered, and chatted for a bit, before another Initiate, Lyceus, invited me to a spar. I have had little combat training beyond hitting a few dummies, and knowing how to adjust the power on my practice saber, of course. But this was an opportunity to learn something new, so of course, I agreed. Under the watchful gaze of Tam'a'ryth, Kethry, Tengirr, and a few others, Lyceus and I had a bit of a friendly fist fight in one of the dueling arena on temple grounds. The spar didn't last long. It was clear that I knew nothing about brawling with my fists. I prefer to use those for reading and writing, after all. But it was still a learning experience, and my bruises shouldn't be too bad. He wasn't trying to beat me into the ground, after all. Lyceus seems like a dedicated young Jedi. I think he worries he will not be able to find a Master, as he seemed to suggest. And he isn't very patient. But he will make an excellent Knight one day, I am sure of it. Probably a better one than I could ever be.

After that, we all hung around for additional duels, this time with our training sabers. Lyceus sparred with a student named Rafael, first. This was a guy I knew was of the more introverted sort. He often appears nervous during classes. I once tried to reach out to him, but he was very obviously not interested. Since then, I've been keeping my distance from Rafael, though I am still concerned. During the duel, he seemed to know his way around the training saber pretty well, but it was Lyceus with the discipline behind his strokes, or rather, his force push. Where had he learned that? Soon, Rafael was hit in the leg, and went down quick after that. Luckily, he is fine. Training sabers don't exactly do much damage. Nothing long term, anyways. Small bruises are not much to worry about.

Though Lyceus was probably tired by that point, he was willing to spar with me again. I do not find much enjoyment in dueling, if I must be honest, but as a Jedi, I know that I will one day be called upon to fight. This is something I must learn, and so I will.

The spar started out as you would expect. Lyceus blocked my initial attack, and managed to hit me with his training saber. It stung a bit, but nothing to be concerned about. I watched as he did some sort of step routine, observed the way he moved his body when he parried and attacked. In doing so, I quickly picked up on his abilities, and managed to deflect his final blow with a bit of difficulty, before striking him in the leg with my own training saber. He fell, but he was alright, thankfully. I might have surprised him. Or maybe not. It doesn't really matter, does it? I'm just glad I was able to learn something. I am thankful for his help.

We all chatted for a bit after that. Knight Kethry showed us her personalized lightsaber form. It appears graceful and deadly. I doubt I'll ever be able to move like that, but the display was inspiring nonetheless. Lyceus agreed to sparring with me on a regular basis, which I was quite pleased with. One day, I will be a competent duelist! But likely not for quite some time. Luckily, I am as patient as the snowy mountains around the Alderaan temple. Or at least, I like to think I am.

You can probably guess what I did after that. Did I take a hot bath and sit down to relax? Perhaps meditate before bed? No, of course not. I returned to the Archives and began looking into the various new things I had learned. But it was getting late, so I only stayed for an hour or so. And now, here I am, rambling about my day before bed. I suppose it helps me unwind. I am excited to see what tomorrow brings. And the many days after that, of course. Come morning, I think I'll continue my meditation routine. What if I climbed those boulders outside the Archives? After a bit of morning exercise, I'll sit on top and meditate for a time. Maybe I'll strike the practice dummies for a bit, too. Just for good measure. I can try to teach myself that step routine that Lyceus was doing during our duel. After that, it's back to my typical library nonsense. I want to look into a lightsaber form that Tam'a'ryth mentioned to me earlier this evening. Niman was the name. I am pleased that my memory only rarely lets me down.

But, that's all stuff for tomorrow. A new day. For now, I really should get some rest. I am tired. And a little sore. At least I am certain that my sleep will be deep and pleasant tonight.

#korrin

[beautifulterriblequeen]

Everybody Hates Marcos

I recently noticed people liking some of my older posts on Moonshadow assassins (thanks guys, glad you enjoyed), and rereading a couple of them back to back in light of the little peek we've gotten at BH only seems to bolster the notion that Runaan does as much of the assassining as he can.

For the Moonshadow assassins' reputation according to Viren post, it would be ironically funny if Viren didn't know that all of the assassins he was describing to Harrow as an unstoppable threat were really the same prolifically stabby elf. Alternately, it would be very deeply interesting if Viren did know about Runaan and his endless stabbiness, and pretended he didn't.

Then there's Rayla getting fooled by Callum pretending to be Ezran. The implication is that Runaan never intended for Rayla to stab the young prince, so he never gave her any information that would allow her to track down Ezran without him. The idea that Runaan always intended to take Ezran himself so Rayla didn't have to isn't a new one to me, but the reinforcement from the other side of things is really helping it land: Runaan always intends to take everyone himself.

So I have two new thoughts, from these older thoughts:

1. Marcos and Viren just roll with there being multiple assassins after Harrow, as if more than one is normal.

First, we all thought Runaan always led a team of six assassins. Over time, headcanons formed for fewer than six, and also for solo missions. I've had a fresh one since I started writing this, so I'll add it: the elves seem to defend Xadia's border in pairs, so what if, when Runaan goes on missions to the human lands, he takes one other elf with him?

This might normally have been an assassin's SO, like Lain and Tiadrin going on missions together in the black ops version of the Sacred Band of Thebes (heyo it's my "assassins are all queer and their love must be partly tactical" love letter to the Sacred Band headcanon again). But Runaan went and fell for a soft elf who does not stab, and so he may need other partners to watch his back and make sure that they both get home to their family.

Maybe every elf that Runaan took on his mission to Katolis, except for Rayla, was someone he'd taken on previous missions. Maybe that's his standard training method: train them in the Silvergrove until they're ready for a proper mission, and then go with them and make sure they get it done right because their life back home hangs in the balance.

And then there's what Rayla said in "Ghost":

"When assassins are sent on a dangerous mission, Ethari enchants one of these flowers for each of them." "Mission" is singular, but "one... for each" indicates a plural. The grammar in this sentence tells me that a single mission with multiple elves is standard for Ethari's Dangerous Mission Enchantment Protocol. It doesn't say how many "each" is supposed to represent, so it could vary with circumstance. But in a culture so packed with angst, it's probably mostly a good thing that the Moonshadow assassins don't go taking dangerous missions alone.

And I kinda like the soft angst of Runaan shepherding younger assassins through their early missions and then trusting them to watch his back when things get really dangerous. But even then, he has a hard line where he won't let another risk themself for him when he'd rather go alone and pay the price himself. I wonder if, when he was younger, he tried to do everything himself and didn't help others train and learn as much as he does when he's older. If he's matured to some angsty "as good as it gets" mindset where he'd rather risk or ruin one or a handful of lives belonging to people he loves than risk utter failure on his own and all-out war and disaster. To slowly taint those you cherish in order to protect others you also cherish from an even worse fate... ahaha god, that's so angsty. Whose souls do you chose to darken? Only those with the brightest spark.

2. Runaan may not have intended for Rayla to take Ezran, but he sure sent her after Marcos quickly, to keep their mission on track. Runaan was basically ordering Rayla to kill someone to protect the team so the team could protect their loved ones and all of Xadia, and she couldn't do it.

What he was asking of her was a kind of halfway point between what Runaan's duty demands of him and what Rayla ended up choosing to do on top of the Storm Spire. Runaan's duty is focused way out at the tip of his sword, but his train of thinking ties that directly to the people he loves and protects with his stabbing.

Rayla's choice was her own, though, atop the Spire. Neither Runaan nor anyone else told her to do it. She chose for herself, because she knew in her heart what was right, in that moment, and she followed it.

Why didn't Runaan kill Marcos himself, then? As the only member of the squad who hadn't taken before, I think Rayla needed to come home blooded. It was her first mission, and maybe on your first mission you must take a life, whether you're solo coughEljaalcough or in a duo with the assassin leader as he helps you get your first kill or in a squad of six. Rite of passage kind of thing, in the way where failure might get you ghosted, or worse.

Maybe the way that Runaan pointed Rayla after her target is how he interacts with other young assassins when he's on their first missions with them. Silent, focused, but still guiding from the shadows. Halfway there, halfway not, an unobtrusive guide, a living reminder of all his own teachings, who stays out of your way except in the most dire of need.

So Runaan's combining Rayla's first training mission with possibly the most dangerous mission of his life. Neeeat. And once he got everyone into the castle, then things were going to get extremely dangerous, so he didn't want anyone on his team worrying about who/when/where/how Rayla was going to take a target after that point. Best to get it out of the way outside the castle, so everyone can relax and focus on their own thing.

So maybe Runaan did rustle that bush really loudly and alert Marcos to their presence, after all. And maybe it was on purpose. If he knew Rayla had to take a life on this mission - for honor or cultural or magical balance reasons - and if the rest of the team knew it too, then he could've been on the lookout for a way to force an early resolution to everyone's concerns about Rayla's capability: give her a convenient human target and get it over with.

Maybe he was so furious with Rayla when she let Marcos live because he'd deliberately selected Marcos to die.

Which is very ironic, because that's what I think Viren did, too, by sending him out into the forest with the full moon approaching. If any of the patrols just didn't report in the next morning, Viren would know Xadia had sent its regards, and they'd be arriving on the full moon. Viren knows what he did at the Storm Spire. If he's got any sense at all, he's been expecting reprisals. Marcos was Viren's canary in the coal mine, and he was also Runaan's injured mouse for his kitten to cut her teeth on.

Bahaha. Viren and Runaan literally can't stop paralleling each other, can they. But this makes Marcos's promotion to recurring character and one of the heroes of S3 all the more amazing! If two of the show's major early plot drivers wanted Marcos dead, and he survived them both thanks to Rayla, then everything he does is possible because of her choice, and that comes back around to save her and her allies at the end of S3, when Marcos rallies with Opeli, Barius, Corvus, and Queen Aanya and her army to defeat Viren's forces.

Rayla saved Runaan from doing exactly what Viren expected him to do, and ended up saving herself, along with Marcos and countless others, too.

#tdp #tdp speculation #tdp headcanons #tdp meta #bh spoilers #ToX spoilers #tdp spoilers #rayla #runaan #moonshadow assassins #moonshadow elves #viren #marcos #tdp parallels

[biqherosix]

hiiiiiiiiii do u write for the drgaon prince ??????????????????????? it’s totally not el spamming you again bc you deserve your ezran/callum x sister reader even if i’ll give it to you too

the secret life of katolis royalty - headcanons

prompt(s): the royal family uphold a proper, good reputation. but with you and your siblings, there are always bound to be a few secrets whether they're silly or not

pairing(s): familial! callum x fem! reader x ezran

fandom(s): the dragon prince

genre(s): fluff

warning(s): none (if there are, please feel free to point them out!)

other notes: hi el 🙄 anyway yes i write for dragon prince now because there is a lack of content in this fandom, especially for the royal siblings ! i want platonic goodness, and i'm getting it even if i have to make it myself. enjoy :) also reader may possibly be bi?? can be interpreted as whatever you'd like though !

- so you're three years older than callum, making you at least seven when ezran is born

- you're so protective, no doubt about it

- and callum doesn't mind because you're not overbearing (if anything callum is more protective of you and ezran than you are of your brothers)

- which is why callum never finds out about your little things with both soren and claudia (more like a kiss with claudia, dating soren, and then breaking up with soren to try shit out with claudia; spoiler alert you kinda miss soren as much as you love your magical perky girl)

- another reason is that cal has such a major crush on claudia before meeting rayla and you don't want him to feel bad upon finding out

- but let's be honest ezran finds out because he walked in on you making out with soren after exiting a secret tunnel

- ezran gossips with you more than you both like to admit because of this huge secret only the two of you now know

- but it brought you two closer and he's really happy about that because now he gets to cuddle into your side while he asks questions and spills the beans while you play with his hair lmao

- yk sometimes you even shit talk callum and his sword fighting and that definitely stays between the two of you (he always wonders why you two are giggling under the tree whenever he plays around with soren)

- but you love your brothers and they love you so !! freaking !! much !!

- y'all are attached to the hip, you can't be seen without one or the other

- most of the time it's your brothers doing your thing and brushing up your knowledge on royal etiquette because a part of you is anxious whenever your father talks about his royal wrongdoings

- he doesn't mean to worry you, he just wants you to be prepared (you were in fact, worried and unprepared when he died and you now had three mf children and a dragon egg to take care of)

- don't worry though because callum and ezran are here to save the day and will tell you how amazing you are for hours, it honestly passes the time very well

- okay but i gotta get this outta the way before i forget but callum is the epitome of the "you're doing amazing sweetie!" meme okay?? he is

- where he succeeds (magic, art, being awkward) you on the other hand lack and vice versa (you are badass okay? you can fight and spar properly thanks to your mother's extensive knowledge and even without a weapon you can pack a punch)

- rayla doesn't really understand how callum can be so happy and perky even when you suck at what you're doing

- but he's your baby brother and he loves hyping you up

- callum is your biggest hypeman and always has been it's a second nature to him, trust me if someone were to mention your name he'd never shut up !!

- like this one time you drew rayla and callum on a spare piece of paper callum gave you and it didn't really turn out the best but he still fake cried and attacked you in a hug

- he keeps it in his sketchbook and he's never letting that go, so rayla jokingly judges him for it and your boy ezran backs you up with callum

- "i don't see why you keep it, i mean it doesn't even look like us! we're like lil' stick figures" "art is contemporary, rayla. it can be anything you want it to be! isn't that right zym?" "ez is right, plus it doesn't look that bad! it's cute. look, she even drew me doing magic! her markings are so accurate" "callum, i don't even know what spell you're doing" "it's clearly aspiro! look at the wind" "they're lines!" "that's what art is all about!"

- baby gets so nervous when he and rayla kiss bc he obviously has to tell you and your opinion matters most to him; he's just scared bc rayla always teases you and you may not approve

- so he kept it a secret for a fat minute after telling ezran, ez is so annoyed bc he has to keep your soren secret and callum's??? at least bait and zym are there to listen (man relationships are hard)

- you just laugh because you saw it coming and the moment is just so wholesome !! you tackle rayla into a hug, welcoming her into the family with "bad drawings and all" bc she never lets you live it down fr fr

- but later that night callum can't sleep and he lets out everything because he never really told you about his crush in the first place like he feels really guilty because you're always so open with him and sometimes he has some walls up, like how he was with king harrow even if you're his biological sibling

- also you bet on your life that you would do anything to make sure callum was content with his life and so after his lil rant and your assurance he asks if you've ever felt that way before

- and you had to do it to em, so you tell him about soren and claudia

- "why didn't you tell me anything before?" "you liked claudia! i didn't want to be the reason for your heartache" "but you're my sister, you deserve to be happy. maybe you and soren can work out" "eh, we'll see. not gonna lie i was ready to go back for him after he almost killed that dragon. he looked pretty hurt but you looked way worse honestly" "hey! you're making my heart hurt here y/n." "that doesn't count because it was playful!"

- you end up going to sleep that night leaning on each other because that's what you've been doing all your life — leaning on each other and you don't want him to forget that !!!

- you also wake up the next morning with ezran in between you sleeping soundly, and rayla comes back to the three of you making funny faces and laughing like there was no tomorrow

- she didn't get it but the three of you did, it was a simple moment that you would all cherish even after ezran becomes king — perhaps it even makes you better as royals

- and from then on, there were no secrets, just a family trying to piece themselves together again after so much tragedy

#dragon prince #dragon prince imagine #tdp x reader #tdp imagine #the dragon prince #dragon prince x reader #prince callum #prince ezran #human rayla #tpd rayla #tdp callum #tdp ezran #tdp soren #tdp claudia #tdp harrow #soren x reader #callum x reader #daniza's fave characters are paying rent

[hiccstrxd]

Oh, honey (i love you)

I wrote this in like a day for the birthday prompt. I hope some of the things in here were at least somewhat well described lol. It's rated t, and you can also find it on ao3.

Summary: He took a deep breath before fully emerging into the world, a feeling of restiveness engulfing him as he did so. And the first thing that greeted him was a sight so familiar yet so intimate that it never failed to make warmth blossom in his chest, for his heart to burst with adoration; the purest kind of love filled his entire body, making him feel even more weightless than when he first awakened.

Callum stirred as the first rays of sunshine came through his bedroom window, his eyes slowly blinking open in order to adjust to the light filtering in the room as his mind took its time to rise in time with the sun — the first traces of consciousness lighting up the whole body in a state of awareness. It’s quiet, serene, there’s a tranquility he has come to cherish over time.

He took a deep breath before fully emerging into the world, a feeling of restiveness engulfing him as he did so.

A pair of gentle, violet eyes were the first thing that greeted him paired with the loveliest of smiles. A sight so familiar yet so intimate that it never failed to make warmth blossom in his chest, for his heart to burst with adoration; the purest kind of love filled his entire body, making him feel even more weightless than when he first awakened.

“Good morning,” she said above a whisper, careful as to not break the comforting silence they have found themselves into, and a twinkle in her eye that made her face alight with something akin to contentment.

“Good morning, love.”

He hummed in delight as her hand came to rest on his cheek, her thumb rubbing soothing small circles for a while before trailing further to tangle in his hair. Callum smiled.

Throughout their impromptu journey to Xadia, he recalls being greeted first thing in the morning by skies lit with warm hues and soft breezes that carried air to his lungs — a skyline tinted with the scorching light of daybreak which was hidden behind a thin veil of hazy, whitish clouds. It was beautiful, he remembers thinking so. But perhaps, he was too soon to precipitate in the thought as this could very much put it to shame.

He sighed contentedly, bringing one hand upwards to lace their fingers together and giving it an affectionate squeeze. “How long have you been up?” He brought the hand he was holding in between his to his lips, kissing the underside with soft, brief pecks. She smiled at him in amusement, “Not so long ago.”

“Hmm, I’m having a hard time believing that.” He shifted in the bed and — upon deciding she was way too far away —snaked a single arm around her waist, pulling her to him with a gentle tug. Rayla let out a soft laugh as she snuggled in closer into his chest, resting her head on his shoulder while her arms wrapped fondly around his torso. “Why so?” She looked up at him with a teasing smirk on her lips and eyes glimmering in the same nature.

“Because I know you,” He said matter of factly, “and you always wake up a few hours before the sun.”

Her sly grin only deepened.

“Well,” She said whilst she slowly removed her arms from around him — there was mischief in her tone and something else that he cannot exactly put into words. Her face giving away all kinds of emotions, a little bit of everything all at once. “If you must know,” She moved in such way that with one deft movement she ended half on top of him within a second, a lone elbow was placed next to one side of his head as a way to support some of her weight. “Today is a very important day.”

“Oh, really?” His hands came to rest on her hips, a slight stroke in anticipation.

She hummed unable to keep another smile from breaking out.

Callum is very well aware of the day, how could he not. Once upon a time, his birthday brought nothing but hollowness and a feeling of utter betrayal that ran deeper than any scar, figuratively or literally speaking for that matter. It was a stab to the heart, a rip to the soul — and finally, a reluctance to withdraw oneself to the equation after turning empty-handed once, twice, thrice. The acceptance of an aching lover. He couldn’t bear the emotions that came with it, the outcome too saddening to handle and therefore he tries to not dwell on it a second too long for the reminiscence of the moment brings it back to life. And it becomes real... again.

It seemed that the memory alone was enough to cast a shadow across his face, his eyes becoming distant briefly — it didn’t go unnoticed by a certain Moonshadow elf and her smile faltered a bit upon seeing what was on his mind.

He wore his heart on his sleeve, always have.

“Hey,” She leaned forward to rub her nose against his in a heartening show of affection and encouragement. “It's okay, we’re here.” The corners of his mouth lifted up a little at that, it brought comfort, a sense of purpose.

“I know.”

Rayla offered him a faint smile and he gave her one in return. They can’t magically delete the past, but they can try to move forward. Which is always the goal.

She bent down to place a chaste kiss on his lips and he reached out to cup the back of her head, working his fingers in some of her white tresses. Their lips glided against one another; the taste of her love on her mouth, the tenderness on her fingertips. It was blissful, it has always been.

The warmth of her breath tingled the skin below his nose, his hands traveling through every curve and crevice of her body, the raw emotion in each fervent pull was enough to make his heartbeat erratically pound in his chest and — with every intake of breath — Rayla was all his senses knew about, overpowering anything else, silencing every thought.

Her kisses soon enough took a detour from his lips and with tantalizing feather-light strokes of her nose against his cheek and jaw, her mouth began to gently nibble the shell of his ear, and when the tip of her tongue poked out to faintly trace the lobe, he just about lost it. He let out a throaty moan, which earned him a small smile against his throat.

“You know, if this is my birthday present, I’m not complaining.” She chuckled as she breathed kisses down his neck, the sound making his heart soar, feeling dazed and tingly all at once. “Seriously.”

“Then, I’m sorry to disappoint you,” Rayla said with clearly faux sorrow, “but since this is your first birthday that we spend as a married couple, I wanted to make it special.” Her voice dripping with excitement for whatever she had planned and so contagious that he couldn’t help grinning back at her.

“There's actually a surprise for you in the kitchens made by yours truly.” She absentmindedly curled her fingers around his, eyes solemnly staring at him and despite her confident tone, there was faint a trace of apprehension in her words.

He leaned to plant one firm kiss on her cheek.

“I love you.”

#rayllum #rayllum fic #my writing #rayllum month 2021 #I didn't know what to write and somehow this came out #it's a little late i know #but it´s better now than never #lmao #rayla tdp #callum tdp #they're married #but it's not that important to the story lol #rayllummonth2021

[henryspearl]

Number 13 “You can’t keep pretending it didn’t happen, cause guess what? It did!”

“You can’t keep pretending it didn’t happen, cause guess what? It did!”

Ben never wanted to come. He didn’t want to face it. He didn’t want to see him. More specifically, he didn’t want to see him with her.

He had gripped the tumbler glass so hard that he was surprised that it didn’t shatter in the palm of his hand when he announced the news in front of the whole pub. Ben had to hide the hurt behind his eyes, sealing it under a thick duvet as he swallowed a lump and looked bluntly across the other side of the bar, noting how his arm was wrapped firmly around his new fiancée’s shoulders. A smile was plastered on his face, the fiancée showing off her plastic ring. Ben could see behind that smile, convincing everyone that he was happy, that he actually wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

Because Ben knew different. He knew what his lips whispered the night before, echoing into the stars in the dark blue sky above. He was lonely, so lonely. Ben always knew there was something about Mr Callum Highway, something that intrigued him, right from the moment their hands shook in first meeting over the same bar where Ben downed his whiskey. And he did not fail to notice his heart skipping a beat and his breath hitching in his throat when he knew.

What made it even worse was how he was now sitting across from Callum and Whitney in the same pub. Jay had pretty much dragged him, insisting how him and Ruby wanted to celebrate their engagement. Because when love comes around, you have to cherish and celebrate it with your whole heart. Ben could relate to that, long long ago.

Long ago, where he found true love for the very first time, with Paul. And his heart shattered as much at the end as much as it burst with happiness at the beginning.

“You alright, Ben?” Callum drags Ben away from his malicious thinking, thinking of how he should be the one to have his hand on Callum’s thigh and Callum’s arm around his shoulders, tucking him close to his side.

Ben looks at Callum, removing the pint glass from his lips. He swallowed the cloudy liquid down and felt the tingle as it ran down his throat.

“How is things at the car lot?” He asks.

Ben doesn’t want to talk to Callum. Because he is scared of what he will do or what will happen. He feels the crackles in his heart now, feeling like ice slowly breaking on a freezing ice rink.

So he did what he did as the arrogant and stubborn Ben Mitchell.

“Who wants another one?” He gestures to everyone’s drinks. He did not wait for a response. He quickly got up from his seat, the chair legs scraped aggressively against the floor and shot over to the bar, leaning up against it, facing away from everyone.

As small breaths escaped his lips as he tried to compose himself. He swallowed when he heard that same chirpy tone that made his heart rattle in delight but sends it throbbing all the same. “I’ll go and give him a hand.” He heard Callum say.

Ben could feel his presence as he stood beside him. His tight black suit that fitted perfectly in all the right areas lightly grazing up against the side of his body.

“Is everything okay?” Callum asks, in a friendly comforting tone. Asking like he’s trying to be a friend. Acting like what happened didn’t happen merely a week ago and was just a dirty secret embedded in the stars that sparkled that night. That stars did sparkle that night, Ben noticed. They sparkled in the reflection of Callum’s crystal blue eyes.

“Is everything okay?” Ben scoffs, in a hushed tone that sounds bitter, like venom. He lets out a heavy angry sigh before hissing, “You can’t keep pretending it didn’t happen, because guess what? It did!”

Callum looks down, the soggy beer mats stuck on the bar suddenly looking very fascinating. He swallows a lump in his throat, shallow breaths parting between his lips.

“I told you,” Ben continues, in a more relaxed hush tone. “You can hide it all you want, you can fight it, but it won’t work. It never works.”

Nothing was said after that. Tracy the barmaid came over to take their orders and they just stood there silently as Tracy delivered drink by drink it front of them. You could pierce a pin through the stone silence that awakened between Ben and Callum.

When Tracy had given Ben his change, Callum spoke in a quiet and sheepish voice, “I just want to be happy, that’s all I want.”

With that, he grabs his and Whitney’s drinks and brings them over to the table. He watches as they exchange ever so loving smiles before Callum resumes his position beside her, like he’s glued to her, like he needs her as his bodyguard, his property.

You won’t be happy. Ben’s subconscious growls in frustration.

Ben walks back over to the table, carrying his, Jay and Ruby’s drinks. They all gather in deep conversation, telling stories and exchanging jokes.

But the atmosphere was different. Because this time, Ben and Callum are sneaking glances at each other, their eyes burning and drowning together, like fire and ice.

#taking you back to 2019👀 #jay and ruby seem ancient now😂 #ballum fic #my writing #fic prompt #ballum #ben x callum

[no-whump-on-main]

Untitled (for now) Vampire Whump

Soooo I binge read @whumping-every-day ‘s Ash and Callum series this morning (It’s INCREDIBLE, by the way, go read it now) and got mega inspired to write some vamp whump of my own, though with very different dynamics than in the Ash and Callum series. Also partially inspired by @whumped-cream ‘s prompt about a similar scenario :) (sorry for the tags y’all I just wanna properly credit)

ANYWAYS HERE WE GO PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK IT MAKES MY HEART SING

TW/CWs: some mild imagined gore/body horror, pet whump, long term captivity, dehumanization, vampire whumper/human whumpee, possible minor whump? Whumpee is described as young but her actual age is not known.

     There is a girl in the basement of the old wooden mansion down Buist street.

     The residence teeters on the outskirts of the miniscule town it was built in many decades ago, resting so far away from the rest of town that it is visited by no one but impish teenagers who dare each other to get close enough to pound their aching fists on the heavy black door, then turn and sprint back, completely unknowing of the horrors inside.

     Younger children make up songs about the foul creature rumored to own the estate, singing hymns in high-pitched voices to each other about the great evil. Rumor had it that the evil man inside lurked among them, perfectly blended into their society. He worked with them, prayed with them, lodged with them, and was, in every way, a part of them.

     The adults of the village grew out of believing the rumors about a monster who lurked among them as they aged. They moved on, found occupations, married, and had children of their own, who became the next generation to preach the tale of the vampire down Buist street, of the vile creature who cruelly drained human bodies for his own pleasure, then flew off into the night and locked himself in his lavish home until the desire to feed struck him again.

     That was where all the generations of townspeople had gotten him wrong. No, he did not feed off of strangers in the nighttime only to flee and leave his victims dead and drained.

     He preferred living, breathing sources of fresh blood. The basement of his wooded home contained a cell, dedicated to the upkeep of his servants. That was what he called them; the captives he took were but servants to him, warm, beings to feed him whenever he so desired. He never kept more than one at a time, and had never had a servant last much longer than one or two cycles of the full moon before their weak, fleshy bodies gave in to exsanguination. Oh, what pitiful things. The man who kept the servants (if one could even call him a man anymore, given that he’d sacrificed his humanity as he became nothing but a sadistic bringer of suffering so very long ago) almost pitied them. Not for the pain that he inflicted, but for the fact that they had to exist in such useless vessels. The only true purpose of a human body was to serve something stronger. It was an honor for a being so useless to find purpose by becoming a servant to someone greater.

     The vampire did not often make exceptions to his standards of keeping his servants. He had standards for a reason, after all. This meant that what he had now was a rare, beautiful thing.

     He had kept the girl in the basement through the passing of nearly two winters. With proper yet minimal care and caution to never feed too much in one sitting, he had managed to preserve her frail body and keep her blood pure, warm, and plentiful for nearly two years. Now, why he’d done this was still a mystery to himself. He could’ve gone through more than twenty servants by now, tasted the different unique notes of their blood, watched them all submit in front of his eyes, and yet, even with the knowledge of what he could’ve had, he was still more than content with his little pet. He had never found himself so infatuated with a useless human being before that fateful day nearly two years ago when he had spied the traveling merchant girl with nothing but a pack, a rack of spices, a pouch for coins, and a mare tied to a post in the grass nearby. There was something about the girl’s natural, unspoken charm that instantly drew him into obsession with her that day.

     He’d struck up a conversation with the girl and bought out nearly half of her wares, despite having no use for the human pleasure of assorted foreign spices. After a long exchange, it was all too easy to lure her back to his estate with the promise of a meal and a bed for the night; after all, she was a weary young thing who did not yet know the danger of following a strange man home, no matter how kind his appearance was. He doubted she’d been travelling along dirt roads any longer than a week.

     The girl had put up a strong fight at first. She was fiery, and the vampire admired that. Her fighting spirit proved to him just what a perfect human she was. She was not so weak like the others. For weeks, every time he came to feed on her blood she fought like a wild animal, biting and scratching and keening up until the very moment his fangs slid into her neck, forcing her into being still and silent as to avoid tearing her carotid artery.

     That initial fight, the aching rage deep in her very soul made her so much more gorgeous to see battered, muzzled, and completely submissive in the bounds of a metal cage built with the intention of containing a feral dog, not a broken human girl. 

     It took months, but the vampire had made her the perfect servant. The perfect little toy. And after so much work, he was never going to let her perish in the chilled waste of his basement underground.

     He called her Annalise. She did not know why. That wasn’t her name. But that foreign name, the one that did not belong to her, became so much easier to accept as her own as she was slowly beaten into perfect submission over many months, so fiercely that she could no longer recall what her name had been before. Or who her family had been, or what she had done to support them. She did not recall her favorite things, or what she liked to eat.

     She knew only her cell and Master. She knew that she was Annalise and she was perfectly behaved for Master. Every waking moment of her life was dedicated to him. Serving him. She belonged to him. Startlingly, she did not remember a time before the basement. There was only Master. He was all she knew.

     The cell she was kept in was cold and dark. She had not once felt the warm mercy of sunlight on her skin in a longer span of time than she could remember. She had not even been granted the gentle light and warmth of a fire. There were no windows in the basement; the only light she ever saw came from an oil lamp Master brought with him when he came to eat, then took away when he returned to his unknown abyss of a home upstairs. The commodity of warmth was similarly limited. Master brought her a thin linen blanket as a reward when he was pleased with her, but she could never quite decipher what exactly pleased him. His kindness, to her, seemed to come in random bursts of his own volition, but they were never underappreciated. Annalise was always so very grateful for the shreds of mercy he showed her, cowering at his feet like she was praying to her god every time he showed her even the simplest kindness. 

     Sometimes it would be a hot, filling meal, in stark contrast to the bowl of cold porridge and glass of water she was normally brought every morning. Other times it was warmth; the blanket, her favorite source, but also sometimes fresh changes of clothes, nightgowns that were made of thicker material than the usual thin cotton, and even jackets to layer over her usual clothing. Rewards did not come often, and never lasted long, but they were always blissful. She cherished what she was given until the very moment Master instructed her to give it back.

     Despite this, her favorite reward of all was not a physical item. Her favorite reward came  when she heard master’s footsteps tap tap tap down the concrete basement stairs, in the particularly heavy, tired-sounding manner that she knew meant he was going to feed. It came when he opened the creaking metal door to her cell, swiftly allowed himself in, but did not instruct her to crawl to him, kneel, and bare her pretty neck. 

     It was when he would hold her as he ate. It was a rare occurrence, but Annalise lived for it. He would scoop her into his long arms and cradle her like a child, sometimes whispering to her sweetly before gently brushing her matted hair over her shoulder, then tilting her neck and piercing her carotid. Feeling his fangs sliding into the pale, tender skin of her neck hurt every time, but when she was being held so gently, it was almost possible to forget the pain. To just focus on Master, and on him and his kindness only. The pain was so much more bearable when she was cradled in loving arms rather than kneeling on the stone floor, her knees in agony as emaciation had left the bones so very close to the surface of her skin, meaning they were constantly grinding into the ground. 

     His feeding never took long, only a few minutes. And typically, he would immediately leave, but when he held her, he’d always linger after finishing, tenderly wiping the excess blood away from the new puncture wound in her neck that would soon begin to scar before beginning to rock her, singing sweetly in a language she did not recognize until she fell asleep. That’s how she knew that he loved her. He would not be so kind if he didn’t.

     Most of her days simply consisted of sleep, as there was very little else to do but rest, and she was often too exhausted to do anything else. Constant shivering took a very heavy toll on her muscles, and even when she was granted warmth from Master, her shaking never really did stop. Her body had just simply never gotten used to the biting cold of the basement. At least Master never seemed to mind. He had never instructed her to stop shaking, nor had he ever seemed bothered by the cold himself when he came downstairs.

     The month now was January. For the girl, this meant spring would come soon, and the basement would be just ever so slightly warmer, something she was infinitely grateful for. She craved warmth more than anything. For the vampire, though, January meant something much more special.

     It meant that it was nearly the second anniversary of the day he had brought his special servant home. And because this girl was so very special to him, she deserved a very special celebration.

     The vampire thought it was high time his Annalise was introduced to his friends. He had a bustling social life, and yet, not one of his peers had ever met the girl. It wasn’t  terribly unusual for vampires not to meet each others’ servants, given their typically short lifetimes, and the fact that vampires did not meddle with anyone else’s pet unless they were invited to, in which case, they could easily become a pack of cruel, wild hyenas. The vampire knew of this cruelty, which was part of the reason he had never told a soul about the girl, but now, after so much time, and with how perfectly behaved she was, he was sure a few select friends could never spoil a thing about his beloved servant. He was overjoyed, ecstatic, even, to finally be showing her off. Not only would he be able to show her around the upstairs, he could use the opportunity to test her obedience, see just how far her devotion went.

     In a pattern now familiar to Annalise, he padded down the stairs to announce to her his spectacular plans. He had decided not to inform her until the day of, not wanting to get the pet riled up, but now, it was time. In mere hours, his friends would arrive to see the girl he had promised them all to be so breathtaking.

     And he had to get her ready.

#whump #whumper #creepy whumper #whumpee #vampire #vampire whump #vampire whumper #whump fic #hurt no comf #uhhh chicken nugget #whump writing #my writing

[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

#mystic messenger #mysme #zen ryu #hyun ryu #zen x mc #zen x reader #mysme zen #mm zen #mystic messenger fanfiction #zen x you #my writing

[raayllum]

i think one of the things we don’t appreciate enough, especially in light of rayllum actually being in a romantic relationship and what that means for callum, is how much rayla makes callum feel safe, too.

there are some truly wonderful posts out there talking about how callum makes rayla feel safe — and it is very true, he does, and one of my favourite things about them. for rayla, someone who does her best to not be vulnerable, slowly learning that she can be around him, and callum working in equal measure to prove that to her is so, so beautiful. her letting herself fall in love with someone and then feeling free enough to express that in all the ways she does? is another beautiful sign of growth.

but callum, of course, almost always wears his heart on his sleeve. and we know this largely because of how open callum is with rayla, and all the heartfelt speeches he feels safe enough to display. whether it’s about his insecurities in 1x04 or 2x04, his worries like in 2x07, or his twisted up feelings of grief and remorse in 2x03 and 3x06. even when callum is unsure (“[a mage] who me? no, i’m not really anything”) or self deprecating (“princes are supposed to be good at things... but i’ve always been bad at well, everything”) she doesn’t use either of those moments to demean him, even in the first instance when he quickly starts annoying her: “nobody likes a loud mage.” “hey sad prince. let’s go get your cube.”

rayla never judges him for anything. not seriously, not vehemently, and not without reconciliation. when callum breaks down about harrow, he does so in rayla’s arms. when he feels completely dejected and rejected by magic, rayla is there to remind him it isn’t worth more than his life. to convince him to go back to sleep. to stay by his side when he’s sick. to vouch for him and to save his life from sol regem. 

she makes it clear that he matters to her. he’s her best friend and she treats him like it and he knows it. and callum thinks so, so highly of her, so it means the world to him to know just how highly she thinks of him too. how much she treasures and values him.

but callum has also been burned romantically before. claudia stabbed him in the back, in his eyes, in more ways than just one. she broke his trust, threatened his friends and brother, and used his feelings. she basically took his heart and their relationship and threw it in the trash. she threw him away like it - like he was nothing, and he knows that, too. 

so the fact that he’s so comfortable being affectionate with rayla, that he wants to tell her he loves her, that she returns all his affection and fondness and support just as much, that she loves him just as much? that rayla can help him heal? that he feels safe enough to be affectionate and loving with her, particularly romantically, anyway?

and that rayla absolutely cherishes him? never fails to make me emotional. 

#rayllum #tdp meta #sort of?? #mini meta #analysis series #analysis #callum #callum x claudia #mine #s2 #s3 #this is barely a meta but it fits the tag ok

[theredhairedmonkey]

in your last meta you mentioned how much rayla has influenced callum, and i was wondering how callum also influenced rayla in these 3 seasons?

Ooh, I do have thoughts about this! In fact, I’ve had thoughts on this question before here.

Before I begin, I should point out that the reason that Rayla had such a strong impact on Callum is because she is, in many ways, his mentor. She instructs him on magic, explaining to him the Primal Sources, the Primal Stone, and just the basics of spellcasting. But more importantly, as befitting a mentor for our hero, she guides Callum’s moral compass and leads him to develop from a sheltered child into a powerful mage.

In fact, as I was writing this, I found that Adrian Petriw (Gren’s, and by extension Amaya’s, voice actor) on @kuno-chan​‘s Hot Brown Morning Potion semi-suggested not only that Rayla is indeed a mentor to Callum, but that this relationship will continue in the future (speaking on behalf of Amaya, of course):

“Then I realized [Rayla’s] heart is in the right place, and actually Callum could learn quite a lot from her, in fact he badly needs to.”

(As a side note, I wonder if Rayla will get to say to Runaan something to the effect of “See, now I have a protégé too!”)

So, it makes sense that she has a stronger impact on him than the other way around. But a mentor relationship doesn’t have to be one way; often a mentor will end up learning something new from the person they’re mentoring. And in Rayla’s case, while she helps teach Callum to believe in himself, he teaches Rayla to believe in others.

To understand why this is so important, we have to understand what is the Lie that Rayla Believes. As I’ve written before, a “Lie” is some falsehood that the character believes about themselves, the world, or both, and which the character will spend their entire arc trying to overcome.

While Rayla’s Lie is never stated as clearly as Callum’s, we get a sense as to what it is just from her actions and relationships to her people. She has to face her first attempted assassination entirely by herself. No one watches to help her if she falters, or consoles her when the job is done.

She has to face this task alone. And when she fails, she has to face the consequences by herself. Rayla is thrown off the mission (and in the book, she’s damn near executed!), and the Silvergrove banishes her without so much as a modicum of an investigation into what happened.

These facts help explain why Rayla acts the way she does—why she has a hard time being vulnerable, seeking help, or showing fear. Why most tasks she insists on shouldering by herself.

Rayla’s Lie is that her self-worth is measured by whether she can get the job done herself. If she can’t, then she’s not good enough, or a failure, or weak.

“The solider took his chance and crawled backward in the mud. Then he ran. Rayla dropped her arms to her sides and hung her head, her will melted in the storm. Why was she so weak?”

Chapter 1: Echoes of Thunder

Rayla tries to handle most things by herself. Early on in the story, if there’s something that needs to be done, she will be the one who does it. She’ll sneak into the Banther Lodge, even if she’s the most at risk. She’ll go and examine something dangerous on the Cursed Caldera. She’ll be the one to peel off and handle things while Callum and Ezran remain behind with Zym.

And in the meantime, Rayla will bristle against any possibility that there’s something that’s more than she can handle. She agrees to travel by boat…basically just because there’s some rumor floating around that she’s afraid of water. She refuses to let Callum see her cry, because doing so would admit she can’t shoulder her feelings alone anymore.

But eventually, this guy, and his way of looking at things, rub off on her.

Callum may have very little confidence in himself, but he absolutely has confidence in the people around him. At the foot of the Caldera, Callum quickly organizes a plan of attack based on everyone’s mutual strengths. No one is left out because, in his mind, everyone can contribute.

Callum celebrates other people’s strength, he cherishes their value. It’s not that Rayla doesn’t see or appreciate how other people are strong--she absolutely does-- but she can’t see that working in tandem with others makes her stronger.

Until Callum, that is. She relies on him more than she ever has with anyone. Rayla knows it’s safe to be vulnerable around him, that he’ll prevent harm from coming to her. Through him, she eventually realizes that she never has to face anything alone again.

Because of that, she goes from this:

To this:

Because of that, she begins to see things differently, and value the contributions of others the same way Callum does. And rather than jump into the middle of the battle in 3x09 like Callum and Ezran do, she decides to stay with Zym—a reversal of the role she typically plays.

And she’s rewarded for it by being named “The Last Dragonguard.” Not because of her value as a solitary fighter, but by her willingness to do the important task of watching over the Dragon Prince.

This Rayla knows how to rely on others. That doing so makes her stronger, more capable to carry the task that feels right to her.

Because the people she trusts the most will never let her down.

#rayla #rayllum #ezran #callum #amaya #gren #zym #runaan #moonshadow elves #silvergrove #dragon guard #tdp #the dragon prince

[ballumsecretvalentine]

Magical time of the year           

Happy Valentines Day @slytherin-shakespeare 💖

It was summer. Lexi was turning eight. She was very excited about her birthday. She kept telling him about all of her favourite princesses. Ben had the perfect thing planned for her birthday. Ben was snuggled up with Callum watching a movie.

“You think shell like it.”

“She’ll love it. Lexi is lucky to have a dad like you.”

Ben was lucky to have Callum. He kissed his cheek to show his appreciation and snuggled in closer to him.

“Daddy Daddy, wake up. It’s my birthday.” Lexi said loudly as she entered her dad’s room.

Ben was cuddled up to Callum in bed. Lexi took her dad’s phone and took a picture of them snuggled up together. She was so happy that her dad was happy. That was what she wanted for him. She also really liked Callum. She thinks he is a good boyfriend to her dad. She loved their little family.

“Oy cheeky,” Ben said when he noticed Lexi taking pictures of Callum and him. “Come here princess, give daddy a birthday kiss.”

Lexi ran up to him and hugged Ben and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Ben was happy. He had his beautiful boyfriend who he loved more than anything on one side of him. On his other side was his daughter, she was the most perfect child in the world. Ben did not know how he was so lucky to have both of them in his life. He knew that he would cherish every moment that he had with them.

Lexi came downstairs and saw that her gran Kathy had made some breakfast. Bobby was there as well. Her mum and Jay came down as well. Lexi had gone into her room to say good morning to them as well. Lexi was most excited about her gifts. She was excited to see what she got.

Lexi was excited she was opening her gift. It looked like there were only a couple small things on the table. She opened the first one and it was a book, it said Cinderella on it. Wow, that’s it a book and a small other thing. Maybe there was more. She opened the rapper and she saw that it was Cinderella.

“Go on open it, princess.”

Lexi opened the doll and saw that Cinderella had a note on her back that said see you in Paris. Lexi looked up and her parents curiously.

“We are going to Disneyland,” Lola said.

“Yay. I get to see all the princesses. Thanks, mummy. Thank you, daddy.”

“You only turn 8 once princess, we leave later today. We are staying in Paris tonight so that we can be at Disneyland first thing in the morning. Gran is going to help you pack.”

Lexi went upstairs with Kathy. Ben sat on Callum’s lap and ate his breakfast. He was all packed. He was going to enjoy his holiday with all the people he loved most in the world.

“I love you,” Ben said and kissed Callum on the lips.

“I love you too,” Callum said back. Ben being a good dad was one of the biggest turn-ons for Callum.

A few hours later they were at the hotel. They were staying in a three-bedroom apartment with two adult bedrooms and one child bedroom, exactly what they needed. The place they were staying was a short bus ride to the park. So they could enjoy most of the day when the park is open.

Ben went into the bedroom, Callum was already on the bed. Ben showered and put on his pajamas. He got into bed next to Callum.

“You excited for tomorrow.”

“Yes going on all those rides. Spending time with my favourite people. Being here in Paris. It is a great summer. This past year has been really good. Meeting you changed my life.”

“Callum, you are the best thing that happened to me after Lexi. I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

Ben snuggled up close to Callum. Ben loved being the little spoon. He loved that Callum was able to hold him close. Ben felt safe, loved and Cherished when he was in Callum’s arms. Ben fell asleep with a big smile on his face.

Ben woke up to the Parisian sun in his face. He was held closely to Callum. He turned his face into Callum’s chest and snuggled deeper. He could hear his daughter’s laugh of delight from outside, he knew he would need to get up soon. He just wanted a few more minutes here with Callum.

“Morning,” Callum said, he nudged his nose against Ben’s. Ben turned his face up and looked at Callum. Ben nudged his nose against Callum and he spent a few seconds doing that. Ben took Callum’s hand and lead him into the bathroom, so they could shower and get ready for the day. It was quicker if they did it together.

When they were dressed and ready, they entered the living room. Lexi was dressed in her cinderella dress, tiara, and shoes. She also had a magic wand in her hand. She was all ready to go and was buzzing to get there.

“Daddy, Daddy. Look I’m cinderella, and I get to see CInderella today.”

“Yes, you do princess. You are daddy’s little princess.” Ben said and kissed Lexi’s cheek. Ben and Callum quickly ate breakfast so that they could leave.

They arrive at the park at 9:45, perfect they will be in line and in the park very close to opening. It gives them the full day there. When they get in they decide to go to the royal invitation to see the Disney princesses live. Lexi was so excited to go and do that. She held Ben’s hand tightly as they walked to where they were supposed to be.

When they got to the palace there were lots of Disney princesses there. Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Pocahontas, Jasmine and many more. The room was set as a tea party. This allowed the guests to have tea and treats with the princesses. Guests were also able to have a meet and greet with each princess, and a photo opportunity. Lexi was so excited. She was wearing the same dress as Cinderella. She would have tea with her and a picture of them in their matching dresses. This was the best birthday.

Lexi sat at Cinderella’s table and had some tea with her. There were also some sandwiches and some treats to go with the tea. Her dad took a picture of her sitting with Cinderella. Lexi told her that she was her favourite princess. That she loved her and read all her stories and watched all her movies. She loved that she looked a lot like cinderella. She was able to sit on her lap and her dad took a picture of her like that.

“Where to now princess?”

“It’s a small world.”

“Okay.”

Ben took Callum’s hand and they walked there. Lexi went ahead and told Jay and Lola all about what she saw there and showed them her picture.

“Let’s go on a roller coaster while she is with Jay and Lola. I know there was one that you really wanted to go on.”

Ben and Callum go on big thunder mountain. Ben is holding tightly to Callum’s hand the whole ride. There was something so freeing and thrilling feeling the air rushing on their faces as they were going fast and were upside down. Having Callum next to him and experiencing it with him added to the thrill. Ben knew that he wanted to experience many more thrills with Callum. He knew that his life would not be complete without him in it.

After the rollercoaster, they went to its a small world. They had a car for all five of them Lexi excitedly pointed at different things that she would like to see in real life. After that, they went to eat lunch. Sitting as a family Lexi felt complete. She loved that she could be there with her mum and dad, and their boyfriends.

“Okay, now we are going to see Dumbo fly,” Lexi said.

They went to see Dumbo the flying elephant. After that, they went to Sleeping Beauty’s castle and Belle’s library. They got Lexi some of Bell’s signature merchandise. Next, they went on the horse-drawn streetcars. Lexi wanted to go show Lola something, so Ben and Callum went on another rollercoaster. Callum chose the Indiana Jones ride. Ben sat up close to Callum and took in all the secrets unfolding and the thrills together. Ben knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with him. Callum and Lexi were the two most important people in his life. He would do absolutely anything for them.

Ben and Callum got off the rollercoaster hand in hand. Lexi went up to them and took their hand to show them something. Disneyland Paris truly was a magical place for family and all. Ben was going to take all the opportunities tonight and tomorrow to cherish his family. Family was everything to Ben, and this was his family.

#bvd20 #ballum secret valentine #ballum #eastenders #ben x callum #fanfic