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watching people tear apart a poem I wrote from 9:18am - 9:50am on a Friday has me in major sickos yes mode
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Lore on Captain Skall!
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The amazingly talented Kisa Seira drew this stunning image of Dragon Guard Rayla from my fic Out of Time and was kind enough to let me share it here.
Please check out the original, as well as their wonderful work on AO3
Twitter Link to the original
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This was a huge pain in the butt to get done, that background fought me. I’m pleased with what I’ve done though. I’m wondering if star magic and dark magic are somewhat connected in some way and the path Callum seems to be taking (more forced to take given what happened in S5) gave me the idea to draw him falling from primal sky magic, the one thing he wanted to do because it felt right, into a mix of dark (and star magic if they are indeed connected), something he doesn’t want to do but ultimately has to to save the people he cares about.
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@kyber-hearts @lady-stormbraver @child-of-thekindlywest
✨ Please reblog the polls to make them reach out to as many people as possible, but KEEP IT SPOILER-FREE to make people listen to the music with an open mind 💖 Artists and titles will be revealed after the poll's conclusion, check the original post for an update! ✨
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I cannot believe they invented hand holding
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So if the title of 6x03 lies at journey’s end… does that mean it’s the last word of the poem?
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OMG
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Day 1: Rain 
Part of the Rayllum July I’m participating in! Expect lots of stuff from me this month ;)
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My lady!!
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Spoiler puzzle for the 6x02 episode title - three words, each correlating to the picture. We also know the S6 episode titles tell a story of their own with "Startouched" being the title of 6x01.
Here are some potential avenues for each one!
First picture options: heart, light, together, reunion, reconciliation
Second picture options: war, battle, attack, divide
Third picture: mushroom, healing, a collection of mushrooms is also called a cluster or troop
Light Divides and Heals maybe? Love Wounds Healing? Hearts, Wars, Healing?
the good news is that we will be getting the actual title tomorrow
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Angst Rayllum baby centric fic ahead. Read the tags, my lovelies
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Rayla hates being pregnant. Not for the typical reasons people joke about to her, though she is frustrated with how ill she feels, and how delicately everyone treats her.
No, she hates how anxious it makes her. How every moment feels filled with thoughts of the baby, if she is comfortable, if she is growing…
If she is alive.
After all this time, she finds she cannot relax.
From her swollen belly it is clear that the baby will be born any day now, but she finds her worry only grows with each passing day. She doesn’t think it will abate until she finally holds her baby in her arms, until she can truly see she’s real and well and… alive.
They’ve been through this too many times before. Her heart cannot take one more break.
Not this particular one, at least.
It’s been broken many times before, she thinks, but this type of loss is something different. Mourning for what might have been is so different from mourning people that were, that others knew.
It feels silly and pointless. Why be sad for what never was? Why look upon an empty crib and think of the baby that might have been but over and over never was.
This one seemed to stick.
It came to a point where her frame could no longer hide and the rumours were growing and growing and eventually it seemed ridiculous to try and dismiss the obvious.
She hated all the well wishing though. All the congratulations and the excitement.
The hidden losses robbed her off her innocence, she thinks.
Everyone seems to see this as a time of joy, of celebration.
It feels wrong for her to dampen others spirits with her constant concerns.
And so, even now, as people seem more and more excited and happy and confident, she wants nothing more than to shy away, to be alone. Just her and Callum.
She does not want to mourn with an audience.
Callum is supportive, as he always is. Patience and understanding. Always willing to listen.
She cannot explain the ache though. The fear. The anxiety.
She doesn’t want to breathe life into it.
He doesn’t believe in fate, has defied it more than once in his defence, but she cannot help but worry… what if she’s bringing this upon them? What if her endless running thoughts are the reason why they never stay.
She’s gazing at the full moon when the first ache hits her. Dull at first, but persistent. Callum is snoring behind her, and she elects not to wake him because who wants to be woken for bad news?
She’s felt this ache before.
Eventually the pain becomes too much though. She cries out, despite her best efforts and Callum wakes suddenly.
She worries he’s going to yell at her, annoyed that she kept another thing from him, but instead he rushes to the guards, insists they call for the midwife and that’s when it truly hits her.
The baby is coming.
The midwife is too far away and Rayla has no idea what she is doing. She was too afraid of tempting fate. The books Callum procured for her untouched on her bedside table.
True to form, Callum has been reading and he coaches her through it.
She thinks she can’t do it, it’s all too much, too painful, too terrifying but then there’s a pain worse than anything she could ever imagine, followed by a tiny, strangled cry and Callum is laughing and crying and looking between her and a pink, sticky bundle in his arms and she realises, the baby is real, screaming and grasping... and alive.
And a boy.
Tiny and pink and screaming and perfect and real.
She cries too as she holds him, strokes his tiny squished cheek and finally feels herself relax.
He’s here.
He’s real.
He’s alive.
He has Callum’s eyes and her nose and perhaps both of their lungs because he is clearly furious about the bright or the cold or something but Callum swaddles him in a blanket and pushes the hair back from her sweaty brow and he’s crying and she is too, and they have a baby, a real baby, a tiny little son.
Even now, days later, it all seems so surreal. He’s got over his abrupt and sudden entry to this world (as babies do) snuggled against her breast and sleeping soundly. Callum is sleeping too, drooling on her shoulder, his arm lazily lying across both of them.
She smiles at him, still amazed by how much their son looks like him… by how much love and adoration she feels for both of them. How warm and happy and content she feels.
She looks at her beautiful, healthy, amazing son and the man that helped her bring him into this world and feels she can finally relax.
She assumes people would scoff to hear it, new baby and all, but she feels she can finally rest.
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*screams*
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The elf dancer💃✨
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Anyway, this scene ripped my heart out of my chest. 
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