#something that callum is both angry and desperate enough about to turn to

[raayllum]

You’re gonna be better now. That’s all that matters.

[buttercream-squad-imagines]

Little Red Dress

Pairings: Harry Lewis x fem!Reader, Callux x sister!Reader Word Count: 1.8k Warnings: Swearing, some violence, maybe a few spelling mistakes Request: Idk if this is a request but like a secret relationship with Harry that you hide and you like calluxs sister or something like that and when he finds out he gets really mad or something

How you had gotten here you didn't know. It was a question you had continually asked yourself for the last five or so months. You hadn't long moved to London, where your older brother Callum lived. You had wanted to be closer to him, not that you were far anyway but you were very closer to your brother.

There were quite a few years between you and the older boy, you being born when the latter was 7 years old. Now at the ages of 22 and 29, the two could not be more inseparable. Despite having different fathers - both of whom hadn't stuck around long enough for the pair to remember them - you and Cal were like peas in a pod. With no father figure for you to look up to, you naturally clung to the boy growing up, and Cal being the only male in the house, quickly took on the protector figure for both you and your mum.

As awful as you felt leaving your mum back at home, you had been missing your brother desperately since he had moved to London so long ago, having spent the latter majority of your school years without him. Now after graduating from university, you finally felt free enough to move to the city with your brother and make your own way in life.

That was nearing a year ago, which led you to now. The situation that you were currently in, sneaking around with one of your brother's best friends.

You had met Harry before you could even have been introduced by Cal in one of the most cliche ways ever. Being the clumsy git he is, he had bumped into you in the hallway of your new apartment building and had spilled the contents of the box you were carrying all over the hardwood floor. Awkwardly the man had tried to pick up the contents in a hurry, spitting out apologies to you and once again dropping things from his arms in an attempt to put them back into the box. It was something you had found very endearing and is a quality of his that you adore.

In an attempt to apologise for both spilling the box full of stuff and then dropping the contents whilst trying to pick them back up, Harry had offered to help you bring up the rest of your boxes. It was there that you both ran into your brother, who was visibly confused as to how his cumbersome best friend was talking to his baby sister like they had known each other for years.

Cal would never actually admit it to you but witnessing that interacting had a large pit forming at the bottom of his stomach. He knew how Harry could be and knew from the look in his eye that he had quickly found an attraction in you.

Any spark found in Harry's eyes quickly distinguished when he learned of your relation to Cal, knowing how protective the older boy could be of his baby sister, but nothing could stop the fluttering feeling the boy got when he was around you. Not even Cal's warnings against dating his sister. Warnings that his other friends got, to his relief, all of which assured Cal that his sister was out of bounds. Pleased with the responses, Cal never had a second thought, something you were glad for.

Something you weren't glad for however, was the feeling of uneasiness you got whenever you were with Harry. You almost felt guilty for being with him, even more so for keeping it from your brother.

Your boyfriend of five months, however, was quick to chase away that feeling with his affection. You got to see another side to the boy that many of the people in his life never got to witness. It gave you a feeling of euphoria knowing that you were the object of Harry's affections, and affectionate he was.

When the two of you got to spend time at your apartment, the boy could not remove himself from you. Whether he was lying in bed editing a video, cuddled into your side, or sprawled out on the settee with his head nestled in your lap, he always had to have some body part touching you. His hand always found yours when he was particularly anxious, something that happened quite regularly, which was one of the traits you found most endearing. It warmed your heart to know that you were able to calm him down.

Something you did a lot was steal Harry's clothing. There was just something about those jumpers, especially the sidemen merch, that was just so comfortable. Even after insisting on getting you some sidemen clothing of your own, so he could continue to make use of his own wardrobe, you still wore his. You had told him very shyly that you liked wearing his clothes because they smelled like him, and it brought you comfort when he was away visiting his own family.

Harry thought he might have broken down then and there. Not that he would say it out loud, he secretly loved it when you wore his clothes but knowing that you would wear them when you missed him? He felt like he was on cloud nine.

Which is how you found yourself right now, snuggled on your sofa, drowning in Harry's jumper and a fleece blanket, watching the TV. Harry had been away visiting his family over the new year, and wasn't due back until the following day but you missed him dearly. Your phone had been forgotten in your bedroom, your only distraction was reruns of Grey's Anatomy, a show you had already watched religiously.

You hadn't realised how much time had passed as you easily lost track of time when you got into a show. You also hadn't realised that your brother had been trying to get hold of your for over an hour. Which is why you were startled when you heard the click of the lock turning.

"Y/N?" The sound of your brother's voice filled the small apartment. "Are you in here?"

"On the sofa." You called back with a yawn. He could easily hear the drowsiness in your voice, he would put his money on you falling asleep within the next hour.

"You didn't answer my calls or texts, I was worried." He scolded gently.

"I left it in my room to charge, sorry for worrying you." You stretched causing the blanket that covered you to drop to your lap.

"Whose? Whose jumper is that?" Cal inquired, suspicion laced in his tone.

"Oh, is it not yours?" You asked, trying to cover up the fact that his best friend's jumper adorned your body and was currently the reason that you were about to be outed.

"No. You know that's not my jumper Y/N. It's too small to be mine." You winced at the hardness in his voice.

"I must've picked it up thinking it was yours. Oops." You tried to play it off coolly, and your brother seemed to be coming around to the idea that it was just a misunderstanding. Thank God, you screamed internally.

"Right." He sprawled himself out next to you and let out a groan when he noticed what you were watching. "Really? Grey's Anatomy? You know I've experienced enough hospitals in my life without having to watch this garbage."

"How dare you?" You gasped playfully, whacking the older man on the arm. "I'm not turning it off, so either accept it or leave."

"Fine."

A week later, Cal was visiting Freezy and Harry's apartment to hang out with the boys. You were meant to be coming soon though as you and Cal were going out for lunch. Cal was sprawled on the sofa and Harry was on another, whilst Freezy was in the bathroom. Cal's suspicions once again peaked as he noticed Harry wearing the jumper you were wearing just a week ago.

"I'm sure that's the jumper Y/N was wearing last week." He muttered loud enough for the younger boy to hear.

"Is it? She must've picked it up by accident and thought it was yours." Harry spoke coolly although his stomach felt like it was doing backflips.

"Hmm. That's what she said." He grumbled. The two fell back into a comfortable silence scrolling through their phones, waiting for Freezy to arrive back from the bathroom.

"Harry, I'm sure you've got some secret girlfriend you're hiding from us or something." The loud voice of Freezy echoed through the apartment.

"What?" The boy in question stumbled over his words. "Why would you say that?"

"Well, if I had to guess, I wouldn't put you down as the type of person who used Sunkissed raspberry shampoo and conditioner." He cackled.

"So, what if I did?" Harry's heart was racing, trying to play the situation off. Even if the boys found out he was seeing someone, they still wouldn't know who. That's what he was trying to tell himself anyway.

"Right, so you're telling me this dress from the washing basket is yours too?"

Harry's face dropped as Freezy held up the little red dress that you had thrown in the washing basket after a night out. A night out with your brother and his friends.

"What the fuck Harry?!" Cal seethed, gripping him by the collar of his jumper and shoving him into the wall. "My fucking sister!"

"Oh." Was the only thing that come out of Freezy's mouth once he had realised the severity of the situation. Your brother on the other hand was seeing red. What they hadn't heard was you entering the flat, having heard the shouting from the hallway. Cal raised his fist, bringing it to meet the side of Harry's face, who hadn't said a word yet.

"What the hell Cal?!" You exclaimed, marching over and pushing him away from your boyfriend.

"When were you going to tell me?" He asked you through gritted teeth.

"I don't know what you're talking about." You honestly had no idea what was happening right now, but if you had to make a guess, you'd put your money on Cal having found out about your relationship. You could count on one hand how many times you had seen your brother as angry as this. Not ever had it been directed at you though.

"Stop lying Y/N!" He roared making you cower into Harry behind you and let out a small whimper. "Come on, we're leaving."

"No!" Your brother grabbed the top of your arm and began pulling you away. You tried to shrug his hand from your arm, but he held on tightly. "I'm not leaving."

"Fine." He spat, storming out of the apartment.

"Hey." Harry whispered softly, touching your arm gently.

"I'll just leave you two." Freezy muttered awkwardly, leaving to go to his room. Harry pulled you into his chest and wiped away the tears you hadn't realised had fallen.

"It's okay." He assured you. "It'll be okay."

[tenspontaneite]

Across Shared Skin (Chapter 3/?)

“Callum,” the assassin repeated, and it was wholly obvious that he knew what that meant. “Oh, Rayla. What have you done?”

(Chapter length: 2.2k. ao3 link)

Alternate summary 1: hey. Hey, psst, Rayla, I hear you like TRAUMATIC EVENTS. I’ve got some TRAUMATIC EVENTS for you here, you want some? ….no? TOO BAD.

See end notes for alternate summary 2.

---

The meeting with the lead assassin went like this:

Rayla went out onto the battlements and called for someone named Runaan. An elf appeared on the crenelated wall, looking far taller and more threatening than Rayla seemed now. He had a bow, and – suddenly, Callum had a terrible feeling about this.

Her ‘uncle’, one of the ones who’d taken her in, the one who trained her…hadn’t she said that he was an archer? And she thought this elf here might want to kill her human soulmate for her own good? Was that something any assassin leader might do? Or…

Or, was this man family to her?

Family or not, he didn’t seem impressed by her initial attempts to call the mission off. So Rayla called Callum out of hiding. By name.

He was tense when he emerged, and tense when he saw the elf’s eyes fix on him with a dawning, angry understanding. “Callum,” the assassin repeated, and it was wholly obvious that he knew what that meant. “Oh, Rayla. What have you done?”

She set her jaw stubbornly, stepping in front of them. “We can’t choose how we meet our soulmates. And that’s a good thing now, because what I’ve seen-“ She turned her face to Callum, a silent request. He exhaled, and gestured Ezran out of the doorway.

The sight of the egg left Rayla’s not-uncle momentarily speechless. But, as she’d predicted, it still wasn’t enough. “We bound ourselves,” he said to her, severely, face hard. “There is only one way to release. The mission comes first, Rayla, do you understand?”

She exhaled, and unsheathed her weapons. She exchanged one more glance with Callum, then turned to her commander with a battle-ready stance. “No,” she said, quiet and resolute. “Peace comes first. This is so much more important than the mission.” She lifted her chin. “If you want to kill Ezran – or the king – you’ll have to go through me first.”

A snarl twisted the man’s face. “Then you will die here,” he pronounced grimly, and lunged at her.

The sheer speed of that initial clash left Callum reeling. He could hardly see anything but blurs of metal, blurs of limbs. Suddenly, he had no idea how he was supposed to help. How could he shoot a spell at one of them when both of them were moving that fast? Cursing, he pushed Ezran and the egg back into cover.

A pause in the combat: “Callum! Ezran! Go!” Rayla shouted at them, and then whirled around to dodge a sword-blow that might have impaled her. Where had the swords even come from? Hadn’t there been a bow a second ago?

Callum pushed Ezran gently back. “Go hide in that passageway, Ez.” He said, lowly. “Don’t say anything. Don’t move. I’ll…we’ll come get you when this is over.”

His brother’s eyes were wide and afraid. His arms tightened around the egg. “Don’t get hurt,” he pleaded. “Be careful.”

“I will. Now move.” He watched out of the corner of his eyes, afraid to look away from the furious conflict of his soulmate and her guardian, and only relaxed when he couldn’t see Ezran anymore. Slowly, he exhaled. He held the primal stone tightly and waited for an opening.

It came when the moon rose. As soon as the first rays of moonlight lifted over the battlements, as soon as they fell on the elves’ skin – they stilled suddenly, blade-to-blade, eyes going to the moon. In the second afterwards, they were transformed to shadow, dark and flickering against the sky. “I’ll give you one more chance to stop this, Rayla.” The assassin’s voice was tight. “See sense. You’re better than this.”

Callum knew Rayla well enough to know what her response would be to that. He didn’t give her a chance to speak it, knowing that the moment she did, they’d be moving again, and he’d have no chance of doing anything to help.

Fulminis was the fastest spell he had. The only one that might be fast enough. He drew the rune, spoke it, and let it loose.

The elf’s eyes flew to him at the first hint of electricity, and then – impossibly – he dodged it. It was lightning and he dodged it. For the first time, cold terror gripped him by the throat, and he believed all of the many, many stories he’d heard and read about Moonshadow elves.

He didn’t have much time to regret his action, because the elf had already changed target. He flipped over Rayla and headed straight for Callum, shadow-dark face contorted with fury. Panicking, he tried to draw the rune again, lifting the primal stone up as if it were a shield – Rayla cried out and lunged after her guardian-

In the space of a second, there was a sword at his throat. He felt it there, sharp and ruthlessly cold. He stared into phosphorescent blue eyes and knew with certainty that he was about to die.

And then Rayla closed her arm around the elf’s neck and pulled him back.

There was a sting of pain at his throat. A sear of considerably greater pain at his hand, clutched around the primal stone, the sword dragging through his flesh as its wielder was dragged back. It was some combination of the injury and the shock that loosened his fingers. Rayla bore her guardian to the ground, struggling to keep him in a choke-hold; the primal stone fell from a bloody hand.

He tried to snatch it up with his other hand. He wasn’t quick enough. It shattered on the battlements with a crash of magic that nearly sent all of them flying.

“Callum!” That was Ezran, shouting out at him from the doorway behind them. He’d not left after all. Callum’s fear and anger were enough to finally break him out of the shock of pain, and he whirled to hold up his bloody hand.

“Stay back, Ez!” He stared wildly back at Rayla, locked in desperate melee with her own guardian; she’d taken the opening and had brought him to the ground. One of his swords had been wrested away, the other was trapped beneath her foot. She had an arm in a vicious choke-hold around his neck while he struggled – she flinched every time his elbows hit home in her side, flinched at every well-aimed blow, but refused to let go.

And then the storm screamed itself into being around them.

It was so sudden. Just a few traces of wind, and then all at once there was a cyclone spinning into the sky, erupting around the castle with the all the rage of an unleashed god. Callum staggered, struggling to stay upright, and the winds instantly slammed Rayla and the assassin against the crenelated walls. Both of them swore, still struggling against each other.

“You must – let go,“ snarled the elf, voice hoarse past the chokehold. Callum could see what he meant; without either of them having arms free to hold onto anything, they might both be swept from the battlements within seconds. The wind already seemed to be clutching at them, wresting them ever-so-slightly from the ground.

Callum was grabbing for the wall himself when he saw the indecision flicker through Rayla’s eyes. The was a split-second of terrible resignation passing over her face; a glance out to the howling air beyond the wall. She exhaled, uttered “I’m sorry,” and then flung her guardian over the edge. He wasn’t in a position to resist her. For all that he was obviously deadly, she seemed stronger, and she’d been choking him for half a minute already.

The elf’s fingers scrabbled at the edge of the wall, and then he fell.

Rayla made an awful noise as she watched it, then gritted her teeth and reclaimed her weapons, panting with distress. In moments they’d shifted to some new form, pick-shaped, held at the ready as she struggled through the vicious winds to Callum’s side. “Come on,” she shouted, barely audible over the shriek of the cyclone. “We need to go!”

Numbly, he let her pull him into the shelter of the doorway, where Ezran was waiting anxiously with the egg. “Callum, your hand!” his brother exclaimed, and for the first time, he saw that it was dripping blood as they moved. Rayla collapsed against the wall as soon as they were out of the wind, hair still whipping around in the gusts billowing down the hallway. She stared out behind her for a moment, eyes fixed on where her guardian had fallen. Her skin was terribly pale.

“It doesn’t feel that bad.” Callum said, weakly, though he could already tell that his glove was ruined.

“You’re bleeding.” Ezran’s voice was almost indignant.

That seemed to snap Rayla out of her turmoil; she whirled around and knelt down beside him, reaching for his wrist. “I felt it,” she said tightly, and – suddenly, he realised that it was his left hand, that the pain was definitely in the approximate region of their soulmark- “I don’t know how bad it is, though.” She very carefully did not try to remove his glove. He thought he knew why.

Ezran didn’t have any such reservations. He set the egg down and pulled the glove off, making an unhappy noise at the sight of it: a long slice curving across the back of Callum’s hand, just under the knuckles; it brushed the edge of the soulmark. Rayla inspected it, face tight.

“It doesn’t look deep.” She said, after a moment. “You got lucky.” She pulled a roll of bandage out from her jacket. It was only a small thing, probably an emergency supply, but she set to work with it quickly…still being very, very careful to avoid touching the skin at the back of his hand.

“Are you bleeding too?” He wondered, thoughts so scrambled from the confusion and the pain that he didn’t even know what to ask first. “Did it get the mark?”

She lifted her gauntlet and wiped away a little blood. “Yours, not mine, I think.” She exhaled, and once more, looked out at the crenelated wall in the middle of the howling storm.

He looked with her. “…Is he dead?” He asked, uneasy, and she flinched. Her hands tightened into fists.

“The fall wouldn’t have killed him,” she said, tightly. “He still had a sword. He’d have used it to score the cliffside, slow himself down. But…” A harsh, unhappy puff of breath. “There’s rapids at the bottom of that cliff. And in this storm…”

A short grim silence hung between them. Callum didn’t even know what to say to the idea that Rayla might have killed her own family to – to protect him, them, the Dragon Prince….

Then: “Where did the storm come from?” Ezran wondered, staring out at the rising fury of it outside the doorway, so loud it was hard to hear themselves speak. There was a strange calmness building here, though. A clear spot, right in the centre. Like a walled-off circle of refuge against the winds.

Callum’s gut twisted. “Primal stone.” He said, shortly. “I – dropped it, when my hand got cut. It broke.” So much for that avenue of defence.

“Oh.” Abruptly, in that strange calm spot, it was much easier to hear his voice. Callum’s ears popped with an unfamiliar feeling of pressure, and a hint of an oncoming headache. “…What are we supposed to do now?”

“We have to get out, somehow.” Callum exhaled. “If the assassins won’t stop – if we can’t get to the king-“ And they certainly couldn’t, in these conditions- “then we need to leave. Carry the egg back to Xadia ourselves.”

“There’s no way any of us are going anywhere in this storm.” Rayla said, uncompromisingly, and he couldn’t doubt her.

“We could lay low in the secret passages for a while?” He suggested, half-heartedly, and then-

-a flash of colour in his periphery.

He turned and stared. “Is the egg supposed to do that?”

All of them followed his gaze and went still. Because the egg was glowing, and not just like it had been all along – it was shining, burning with incandescent colours like light through a prism, pulsing so virulently it hurt to look at. And then, straight through the open doorway, a bolt of lightning seemed to be sucked into it from nowhere. It was absolutely silent, without even a thunderclap to herald it, just-

“It’s a storm-dragon egg.” Rayla said, faintly, and scrambled back and away. “Maybe the storm’s affecting it somehow?”

Ezran stared for a long, long moment. A moment long enough to accommodate the absorption of two more spontaneously-generated lightning-bolts into the shell. “…Yeah, I think so,” he said, slowly. “But…in a good way?” He furrowed his brow. “Help me roll him out closer to the door?”

Callum looked at Rayla. She looked back. Helplessly, he shrugged, and she seemed to share the sentiment. For lack of any better response, they shifted the egg closer to the doorway to see what would happen.

 ---

 What happened was this:

The damn thing hatched.

 ---

End chapter.

Notes:

Alternate chapter summary 2: in which I live up to my brand by traumatising one character and injuring the hand of another.

Did I say we were pitching canon off of a mountain?? WELL THAT’S NOT THE ONLY THING, BABY. *slaps roof of Runaan* this man can fit so much misfortune.

Also, rip primal stone. I WONDER HOW THIS WILL AFFECT CALLUM’S MAGE PLOTLINE.

(also, a note to my most persistent readers: I have to say, writing a scene where the mc has a sword to his throat and about-to-die vibes followed by hand injury gave me some very distinct nostalgia)

[beautifulterriblequeen]

The Thief and the Tinker, Part 3: I See Fire

part 2

Part 3

Viren: Well how do you suggest we get him out?

Claudia: *grins, brandishes marshmallow on toasting fork* Unharmed is just another kind of harmed

Viren: Claudia no

Claudia: Claudia YES

I See Fire

Angst rating: 9/10

Viren is clever enough not to take the Silvergrove on alone, no matter how badly he wants Ethari to make him a magic key. Aaravos could be cooking in that pod for a while longer, but Viren still has a trustworthy and badass ally at his side.

Oh yeah, it's Claudia Time again!

Claudia is a powerful and imaginative dark mage, and she has the tainted Sun staff. So, you're the magefam, and you've made it to Xadia, to the edges of the Moonshadow Forest. And all you need to do to get the power of your dreams is to threaten one soft craftsman. But how do you find one specific Moonshadow elf in a hidden Moonshadow village somewhere in the middle of a giant spooky magical forest?

You burn him out.

Credit once again to@random-fandom-ramble for reminding me of this forest fire headcanon, because it fits so well. and so I don't get all the blame for this one, lol

Because see, that's not ordinary fire. Oh, no. That's dark magic fire. We've seen that before. It leaves permanent scars. Remember Sol Regem's eyes?

That's going to be the landscape when Claudia's fire gets through with the Moonshadow elves' home. Where I live on the US West Coast, they name forest fires, and if they combine, they get called complexes. So maybe we can name this fire the Dark Tragedy Complex? Because I do have to wonder... you could start a dark magic forest fire easily with a tainted Sun staff, but how do you put it out?

Two things are going to happen if these events should unfold. One is angsty. The other is also angsty but then amazing.

Firstly, Viren is going to get what he wants. He'll find Ethari, whose tree burned down :(. He'll show him the coins, and he'll offer a trade. Build what he wants and make it work, and Ethari can have his family back, uncoined and free.

And Ethari will say yes.

He'll say yes no matter what anyone else tries to persuade him to do, and I hope they do try, because see: Ethari has to make it look good. He has to make it look like he's all in on Viren's plan, to Viren. Even if that means turning his back on his people in their time of greatest need.

Secondly, the Moonshadow elves are going to be collectively homeless and bereft, hungry, injured, terrified, angry. They will have nowhere to go. They will be a people without a home. And no one else in Xadia will help them. Maybe they're too terrified to hide Ethari's people in case doing so brings Viren down on them, too. We've seen how ordinary elves flee in terror from dark magic. Maybe they're all fighting other issues, too. Viren knows all about stretching resources too far during times of crisis. Whatever the case, there will be no welcome anywhere in Xadia for the Moonshadow elves of the Moonshadow Forest.

But here's where it gets amazing. Because one hand will reach out. One small hand, from across the border. Good King Ezran will stand up on the seat of his throne and say, "You can stay here. I have forests. You're tired, you're hungry. You need medicine. Let me help."

And I'm gonna cry like a little baby.

How many cycles does this break, how many circles does it complete? Moonshadow elves used to live in Katolis before the border was created. When humans were under threat of total annihilation, the Moonshadow leader's daughter spoke up and asked for mercy. That mercy came in the form of land reassignment, and the Moonshadow elves had to give up their ancestral home, their Nexus, and travel east across the new Border. But that mercy got paired with justice, and the life-loving Moon Druids probably had to swear some kind of blood promise to keep an eye on the humans forevermore, and to kill any individuals who got out of hand, as if their sins were the Moonshadows' responsibility now.

That's got to breed a little resentment, a little superiority. "Look what we sacrificed for you, and this is how you act. Ungrateful." And maybe that was partially Luna Tenebris's goal: to hold to her vision of justice, she had to make the elves who shared her arcanum feel a little resentment. Moonshadows love life, but we can't have them being too soft to keep Xadia safe from dark mages, now, can we? I will never stop cackling over dragon politics okay, never

But the Moonshadow elves never figured on King Ezran. A soft boy who refused to let his father's assassination harden his heart, because every life is genuinely important to him. I've seen headcanons for Ezran getting the Sun, Earth, Ocean, and Stars arcanum. How about Moon, too? Because this is very Ethari of him, and if these stories of Viren's plan and the Moonshadow elves' displacement were actually to happen in tandem, the contrast between Ezran's soft choice and Ethari's hard one would be mindblowing.

Ezran completes the circle by inviting the Moonshadow elves to return to Katolis, to their ancestral home. They left long ago, paying the price for an act of mercy, but they were welcomed back by the mercy of humans, repaid after a thousand years, repaid in the face of tragedy. Tragedy on all sides. Tragedy Ezran wants to stop from happening, by being brave and caring and soft, and by being the first to break this thousand-year cycle between Katolis and the Moonshadow elves.

Rayla is his friend. And these are her people. It won't matter what they've done, only that they need help in a time of great desperation. And of course he'll help them. He's Ezran, and he's Katolis's greatest treasure.

Oh, what's that you say? Inviting the Moonshadow elves to settle in Katolis again would make it easier for Rayla to live with Callum in the future? Oh gosh, how about that? What a deal. *smug matchmaker noises*

And once the Moonshadow elves understand that they're safe and begin to trust Ezran--which could happen very quickly, because saving a Moonshadow elf's life when you didn't need to is a really fast way to prove you're trustworthy--maybe Ezran will be encouraged to take the next step toward peace, and eventually other elves and dragons will come to meet together to talk it over. And Ez will offer them jelly tarts, which they will love.

Back to Ethari, because we're not done with him yet. Ethari is soft, but he isn't weak. He won't be a willing pawn for Viren. He loves Runaan to the point of invention, and his devotion is more constant than the moon itself. He'll agree to do what Viren says, and he'll be Very Sad. But his spirit is in no way broken. Viren bribing him with the coins containing his family will only have the opposite effect. It'll give Ethari something to fight for.

We could get Focused Chaos Ethari. We could get Angery Trickster Ethari. We could get Rules, What Rules? Ethari. Let him try to steal the coins, try to break them, try to kill Viren, and be stymied at every turn, until he settles and seems cowed. And then all he does is craft his way out of the problem. What if we are gifted with Iron Man Ethari, who pretends to build a fake Key for Viren, but meanwhile he's really building a coinbuster with whatever he can get his hands on - primal stones, magically imbued gemstones, stolen artifacts, his own arcanum, his own reputation as the Master Craftsman of the Silvergrove. He'll use almost- almost - anything, to stop Viren and free his family.

Ethari may have to choose between those two things, though. And he's a hero, deep down, just like his family, just like his daughter. If he has to choose, he'll choose to stop Viren and save Xadia. He'll pay the same price as his family has if he must.

He'd let Viren think he was motivated purely by wanting his family back, but Ethari is far too steeped in the illusion and sacrifice for that to be all there is to his motives. It's a so-close-and-yet-so-far thing, how he and Viren almost embody the same ideals. Almost. Ethari would take one look at Viren, who just burnt down his whole Forest, he'd see the biggest threat in Xadia, and he'd say anything to get a chance to stop this juggernaut of destruction from getting his hands on whatever that ultimate power really is, locked behind that missing key. If he has to abandon his people and bawl his eyes out to convince Viren he's in, then he will.

And Viren wouldn't make it easy for him. He knows clever when he sees it. He went through all this trouble to persuade Ethari to work with him. He would need to keep Ethari as off-balance as possible to ensure that he keeps working as he should.

Angsty jewelry, anyone: Viren giving Ethari his husband in pendant form to remind him what he's working for, when Viren and Ethari both know full well that only dark magic can open the hellcoins. Ethari wearing another pendant of his love, except it's not a metaphor this time. It's literally his love, in a coin around his neck.

Viren would know that Ethari would have to stay close to Viren of his own free will if he ever hoped to free Runaan. And making people bind themselves to you is a big power flex. Remember that TDP stream future-season teaser note about Bait being in a creepy restraint in a future season?

This card is written on in all-caps, so that really could be "Bait" or "bait," or--knowing this show--both. Viren's been using Runaan as bait for Ethari all along. Putting his coin in a dark magic pendant casing for Ethari to wear would be a great parallel for that. Oh god. Oh man.

Maybe he'll stab the coin's scary casing right through that circle on Ethari's chest, right over his heart, make that Iron Man reference really obvious. Ethari also losing his shirt at some point, for angsty Viren-related reasons? It's more likely than you think. I mean... Ethari is literally involved in both forms of forging at this point. Shirt's gotta come off for uhhhh work reasons. And because he's hot. Because of all the forging. I mean how else are we finally going to discover what his markings look like

I mentioned that I liked god-tier villains, right? Yeah, this is amazing. I haven't wanted to die and ascend over an idea for quite a while, but Ethari vs Viren in a drawn-out battle of wills would kill me in the best way. Especially since, while it looks like they're essentially fighting for who gets Runaan, they're truly fighting a much larger battle with much higher stakes. They're fighting for the future itself. It's an epic struggle between the Narrative of Strength and the Narrative of Love. And we've seen what happens, over and over, when the Narrative of Strength gets to call the shots.

On a meta note: If Runaan and Ethari's story arc isn't a love letter from one trauma survivor to another, and on a broader scope to all survivors who see it, I don't know what is. Sometimes life just chews us up and spits us out and we can't stop it and it breaks us. But sometimes we can reach out and grasp the chance to help each other, even after that, even when it hurts a lot, because we know what it means to be loved, and to love, and to want a safer future for each other and for people we'll never meet. The future is worth standing together for, helping each other back up for, fighting side by side for, even if you can't see how it'll end, or even how to begin. We are stronger together, and sometimes we need to fight for our "together" before we can fight for anything else. And that's worth it, every time.

This is glorious, it's beautiful, it's tragic, it's amazing, it makes me want to dance, it makes me want to scream into the void, it makes me want to slap someone with a semi truck. No, someone specific, don't worry, and he super deserves it.

Because Ethari is going to win. He was always going to win. He's soft, and he's clever, and he hasn't forgotten what love means. It's what he's fighting for. Not power, not control. Love. He doesn't want to dictate Runaan's future, or anyone else's. He just wants his husband--and everyone else--to have one at all.

So he's going to win.

What beating Viren looks like, I can't guess yet. TDP is no stranger to angst, so there will probably be a high cost involved in thwarting the dark mage. Maybe not everyone can be rescued from the coins. Maybe Ethari will lose his life, or his soul, or his vision, or something else really angsty. Viren could even kill him and resurrect him as a smoky craftsman, or a zombie craftsman, or something equally biddable but horrible. The only thing I'm sure of is that Ethari would never willingly make a working Key of Aaravos Ethari as long as there's a chance Viren could possess it. But I do believe that if he gets the right opportunity while he's busy saving the world from Viren's dark intentions, he'll break his husband's hellcoin open somehow and set him free, even if he has to smile at the devil to do it.

part 4

[hibibun]

i don’t want your crown

Series: The Magnus Archives Pairing: One-Sided Elias Bouchard/Jonathan Sims, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims Summary: Jon and Martin reach the Panopticon. It doesn't have the answers they're looking for, and it doesn't go how Elias expects.

for days 6 & 7: beholding and dynamic shift Notes/Warnings: Possessive Behavior, Reluctant Relationship, Manipulation, Dynamic Shift, Body Horror, Eye Horror, Discussion of T erminal Illness, Jealousy AO3

The tower looms overhead, ostentatious and as daunting as it was when only a blip in the distance. A horrid beacon that Jon knows they’ll have to enter, however much he’s torn on it. He’s being called—has been presumably by both Elias and the Eye itself, but he doesn’t know what awaits them up there, nor if it will help anything.

He wants to know what’s up there.

He doesn’t want to know his place up there. Acknowledge the burning desire to see it all.

“So this is it,” Martin’s voice breaks his thoughts, and it’s grounding to hear against the stress of the impeding climb.

“Yes, this is it,” Jon reiterates a bit pointlessly. He’s done his best to avoid looking directly, but it’s obvious Martin has more questions for him. All he can focus on is trying to steel himself for whatever remaining trap Jonah might have for them, and what Martin might expect him to do once they’re up there. There are so many more people he owes it to, to fix things, but he can’t think of them right now either. If he even can do anything about Jonah, there’s no guarantee it would fix anything or mean anything beyond petty revenge.

Whatever he expects Martin to ask, he’s instead surprised to see his outstretched hand.

“Ready? Walked long enough to get here, couple of flights of stairs can’t be that much worse.”

Jon only offers an uneasy smile back, but accepts his hand as they enter.

It is a quiet climb. Stained glass surrounds the outer walls of the spiral staircase and the eyes painted in them watch as they ascend. Jon is long used to the gaze of eyes, but this time he is keeping a secret they want to feed on.

“So, can you see any better, now that we’re here?”

“No, but I can feel him still. He knows we’re here.”

“Great,” Martin mutters, unsurprised. It’s not like coming in with the advantage of surprise would be helpful anyway. As they round the corner, the glass gives way to cobbled walls and iron fixtures befitting the prison the old Panopticon was structured in.

“We’re close,” Jon warns, though there is little either of them could do to prepare. He thinks Martin might ask him once more, what their plan is, but either he’s tired of Jon’s ominous and unsatisfying answers or like him, knows there isn’t one. They climb a few more floors until there is only one large door left to open. Inside is a wide room that more closely resembles the top of a lighthouse, its windows giving the perfect view of countless domains, not that Elias needs them for a proper look considering anyone on the ground floor could give it if they still have eyes to spare.

Yet, there he is, as perfectly composed as always and staring down at the ruined world below them. He turns to greet Jon and Martin, and as he does, the cascading blinking eyes trailing down one side of his face and speckling his neck widen and stare.

“Have a nice trip? Breathtaking down there isn’t it? Of course, I only have the bird’s eye view, but from what I can tell it’s quite lovely.”

“Mhmm, people suffering over and over while a big eyeball in the sky watches. It was wonderful. Might have even seen a cow at one point,” Martin answers him with an eye roll. Despite his new monstrous form, Elias at least doesn’t seem to have changed much.

“Come now, Martin, it couldn’t have been that bad. You and Jon seem fine. If I’m not wrong, you even had a bit of fun on your way here. How does it feel, Jon? You can do so much more than just compel now, enthralling isn’t it?”

“I-It wasn’t fun. I only wanted to settle a score, nothing more. I didn’t enjoy doing it.”

Elias’s multitude of eyes settle on Jon and his skin crawls again. It was one thing when Helen insisted otherwise—the Spiral is centered on lies meant to hurt. They both know he didn’t find it fun, but to say he doesn’t enjoy it entirely…

“Mm, feels nice to not be so helpless, doesn’t it? Which reminds me, I’m supposed to be the last stop on your little hit list road trip, correct? Is there anything you’d like to discuss beforehand? I’m all ears,” he asks, his smile dancing on the edge of a joke that for once Jon understands and almost flinches at when he hears. Martin, however, doesn’t see.

“Do it,” he encourages, and while it’s something Jon hasn’t been pushed to do recently, he was waiting for it. Compared to Callum or Simon, this makes sense to do. Elias—Jonah—is the one who caused all of this. He’s caused so much suffering with his tugging of strings, but Jon is still shaking. It’s his fault too.

Beholding thrums between them, even nestled in the Eye’s blind spot, as Martin looks to Jon and Elias repeats Martin’s urging.

“Yes, Jon. Do it.”

The words feel like a compulsion even though they aren’t. Still, it’s the thing that draws the words from Jon’s lips.

“Ceaseless Watcher, turn your gaze upon this wretched thing!”

The static is loud and overbearing, but of course from where they are, how could the Eye twist itself in? Desperately it hears its Archivist calling, but the hunger it senses hardly comes from the one its stare is being directed towards. No, it is only Jon the Eye wants to devour right now. For when its heavy weight bears down on them, tries to bear down on Elias, he is absolutely thrilled. He’s watched Jon’s other ‘smitings’, and like all the other times Jon has tried to channel the power of Beholding against the man before him, he takes to it proud and rapturous.

“Oh, Jon,” Elias breaks the silence, softly. His skin prickles with shame, embarrassment and Martin’s heavy stare beside him.

“That was exhilarating. I wasn’t sure if you’d really go for it, but surely, you knew it wouldn’t work.”

“Wouldn’t work?” Martin asks, the words pointed and sharp. Their accusing tone isn’t directed at Jon, much too infuriated that Elias is still alive no doubt, but they punch the air out of him nonetheless.

“He’s too… it’s Beholding, of course…” Jon stammers, guilt clawing at his veins because he had a suspicion, if he could call it that by this point. He couldn’t tell Martin—perhaps maybe didn’t even want to, but as a result it only gave him false hope. Something Jon continuously felt awful trying to pry away from him.

A dry laugh cuts him off.

“No, no, of course. With the way everyone talks about you here, it makes sense. It’s just, of course.”

“M-Martin…”

“Yes, of course, Martin. Jon would never want to crush that precious optimism of yours, but it’s merely a wonder this place hasn’t managed to do so. Are you starting to get it now though?”

“Elias—”

“Aren’t you tired of it Jon? Had enough of the guilt? Plus, Martin really deserves to know doesn’t he? There’s so much you keep not telling him and that frustration must surely be wedging between you.”

“Know what Jon?”

It always came down to secrets and trust, didn’t it? And in the end, as much as he asked from Martin, Jon has never really been adept at sharing—giving back to make up for what he takes.

“He’s like me Martin, w-we… I can’t kill him. I know I told you I wouldn’t hesitate, and I thought maybe, I would still be able to do something but…”

“You can’t,” Martin finishes for him, soft and brittle. He isn’t angry. Jon, out of fear, breaks that respected boundary not to look, but the disappointment is crushing and painful. His attention snaps away when he hears the telltale click of Elias’s shoes on the floor.

“No, he can’t. And he wasn’t going to tell you, but really Jon what did you expect to happen when you got here? Were you hoping to be wrong?” He laughs at that considering just how much both of them know about the world and its inhabitants now. His hand reaches for Jon’s shoulder and Martin reaches out to try and stop him or put himself between them, but falters, pinned when Elias’s eyes glance towards him.

“Are you ready to join me now, my Archive? You may not be able to die, but it’s unpleasant to keep denying yourself from looking isn’t it?”

The possessive note in his tone makes his want to run because it only adds to the things he doesn’t know how to talk to Martin about. For as much as he loves him, there is a connection forged here and twined in spider’s silk that Jon hates and craves like the air he used to need to breathe. He is hungry, especially after that failed attempt to use the Watcher’s gaze, and Elias is trying to goad him not so subtly into doing something cruel, not realizing there is another option. One he does have the power for now.

He raises his scarred palm and cups Elias’s cheek. The voices and sights and pain and misery are a wafting miasma and while it serves to remind him he’s hungry, they are not the meal he is looking at. Jon tries not to think of Martin—not to dive into the desire to know just what this must look like and what he must be thinking as Jon reveals his intentions.

“Jonah Magnus, tell me about the first time you thought you were about to die.”

The pupils in Elias’s eyes shrink, and Jon feels ravenous as he drinks in for the first time fear evident in that normally arrogant expression. They may both be connected to the same power and share it’s horrible gifts, but its desire for terror is indiscriminate. There’s a crinkle in the line of Elias’s mouth and Jon watches his throat bob with a painful looking swallow as he tries to resist.

“Tell me. Tell me about the many days in that sick room. How the doctors said you wouldn’t make it.”

“A-Ah, but it was a chance recovery. Quite lucky, right?” Elias strains, still evidently in pain. Jon’s grip tightens, and he gasps.

“How did it feel to have them discuss your own funeral thinking you were asleep? Knowing you were so young and helpless. Your whole life falling to pieces right before your eyes and you could do nothing. How every cough, every wheeze, you thought might be your last. How sometimes you wondered if you would go to sleep to not wake again. Even long after you no longer felt that weak, your lungs never quite felt right, did they? And each mild cold after only served as a reminder it could happen again. That maybe it was already happening.”

Jon doesn’t want to think about how good this feels. To see the very man who’s driven him to this point crumple before him over centuries old memories. To watch him be the one full of fear for once.

Elias’s body can’t seem to make up its mind on whether it wants to flee or lean into this. He’s captivated by Jon using his power in this manner, but also it’s his own painful memories dragged to the surface.

“You may not be able to die now, but if you’re going to push me to it, you will remember how afraid of it you were—not even kings are exempt from fear. Now let me go.”

Jon moves to pull away and is more than grateful Elias doesn’t try to hold onto him or use him to help himself up. It’s uncomfortably satisfying to see him on the ground like this and Jon takes another shaky breath before turning to Martin.  

“We’re done here. Whatever it is we could do to fix things, it isn’t here.”

Martin stares between Elias and Jon who’s steadily heading back towards the door, still unsure what to make of what just happened. Getting out of there and away from Elias isn’t something he’ll say no to though and follows. The jealousy is still stirring somewhere, but it’s clear that whatever weird claim Elias thinks he has over Jon, it isn’t reciprocated. At the very least, it’s something Jon is demonstrating he wants no part of, and that’s enough for Martin right now. However, Elias’s voice stops them before they leave.

“You’ve done well, Jon. When all’s said and done, I’ll be here. The Panopticon is partly yours too, after all. None of this would have been capable, if not for you.”

Jon lingers at the door for a moment listening, but doesn’t deign to answer him. Martin catches up and is happy to let the door close behind them. The silence lingers for a few minutes as they make their way back down before Martin breaks it, needing to ask the obvious.

“Where do we go now? Do we… try meeting up with the others again? Come up with a new plan?”

“I don’t know,” Jon doesn’t mean to sound dismissive; he’s just drained from the encounter. It’s easier to not think of the others and try to see where they are or what they’re doing right now.

“We’ll figure it out when we’re out. I just… I just need a minute.”

“Okay,” Martin accepts, and quietly repeats.

“Okay.”

[howlingsaturn]

all the things i love about you

Every morning Callum wakes up before Ben, just when the first rays of sunshine sneak their way through the blinds and into their bedroom, bathing everything in a soft, warm glow. Callum loves mornings like this; mornings where he can stare at Ben until his eyes burn and his heart feels just ready to jump out of his chest. He never thought he'd be here, sharing a bed with another man, a man he loves and who loves him in return. Years of repression and not knowing who he is, Callum feels at ease here, finally. Reaching out a hand to move gentle fingertips along the bare skin of Ben's shoulder, Callum knows exactly where he belongs. 

He shuffles closer, pressing a kiss to the nape of Ben's neck, and exhales. He shuts his eyes close, burying his nose deeper into Ben's skin, and thinks of a way to describe this feeling. He comes up short, his mind going blank when Ben twists in his arms and lazily blinks up at him. 

God, Callum thinks, he's so beautiful. 

He could paint galaxies of his eyes and speak poetry of his heart if only these things came easy for him. They don't, not at all, but Callum still finds himself trying to picture what it'd look like, how the words would feel on his tongue. He's fallen like that, wholeheartedly and all consuming. 

Seeing the look in Ben's eyes, Callum's throat begins to itch with the need to say it out loud, to confess all the things he loves about Ben, all the things that drive him absolutely crazy. 

Ben swallows and licks his lips, still blinking away the sleepiness, and there goes number one; Ben's lips. They can drive him wild and it's not just about the way they feel on his body, leaving goosebumps wherever they go, it's more about the way they move when he makes a joke, how they twitch in the corners when he smiles, the way they open in surprise when Callum makes him laugh so hard he can barely keep himself together. It's the way Ben speaks, rushed and often without thought. It's the way Ben's voice rises when he's desperate or quietens when he's distracted. It's in the way his lips curl into a pout when he wants something from Callum and Callum has to kiss the smirk that always follows right off of him. 

Ben's eyes, as they finally clear, are dark, so dark that Callum thinks he's gonna fall into them and never find his way back out. They are tricksters sometimes, Ben has gotten too good at hiding what he feels, and sometimes they paint pictures Callum cannot decipher, no matter how hard he tries. They're too tense, too chaotic for Callum to make sense of. It's only when tears build in Ben's eyes, a crashing of waves that sweep away the colours he's mixed, that Callum can fully read him. He loves that moment of vulnerability, as painful as it is each time, but Ben's never as honest with him as he is in those moments. He lies himself bare, trusting Callum to pick up the pieces of whatever's been broken, and Callum can't help but soak in that feeling of being wanted, of being needed. 

There's a sharp twinge in his cheek and Callum blinks rapidly a few times, eyes scanning over Ben's face in confusion. Ben stares at him with raised brows, a knowing smile on his face. 

"Stop staring at me like that," he says, voice raspy and deep, and it makes Callum's stomach twist, "You're gonna give me an ego." 

"Didn't think it could get any bigger." 

Ben starts frowning and stares at Callum's lips intensely before he sighs, closing his eyes and turning his face into the pillow with a groan. 

"Hey," Callum murmurs, extending a hand and stroking along his cheek, his palm coming to rest against his neck and Ben squeezes his eyes shut even harder. Callum calls out his name but when he gets no reaction, he leans over and presses a kiss to Ben's forehead, lingering. When he pulls back to look at him Ben starts moving. He blindly reaches for Callum's shirt amid the blanket and pulls himself close with force, tugging his face into Callum's neck with a pained noise.

Callum's a little shocked if he's honest. It's not that Ben isn't affectionate, he is, but he's never seeked out Callum's presence the way he does right now, breathing heavily into Callum's chest and clawing at his shirt like a lifeline. 

Callum leaves him be for a moment, soothingly running his fingers along his back as he waits for Ben to speak. He doesn't. He tilts his head after a few minutes and seeks out Callum's lips instead, grabbing at his cheeks as if he can't get him closer quick enough. As Callum kisses him back breathlessly, he mentally writes another thing onto the list of things he loves about Ben. His boldness. Ben does whatever he wants whenever he feels like it, mostly without thinking of the consequences. He's confident and unapologetic about it and it used to drive Callum mad at first, the way he'd pushed and pulled as if it was all a game. Now, Callum has learned to see it for the way it is: an act of surrender. Ben risks a lot when he's being reckless that way, he opens his heart and lets himself be vulnerable. It's something Callum hasn't understood for a very long time but that he's learned to appreciate nonetheless. So he lets Ben kiss him senseless and opens his heart up in return. 

Callum does eventually break the kiss, smiling as Ben chases his lips.

"Easy," he says with a laugh and Ben stares at him blankly, his eyes suddenly welling up with tears. 

"Hey, what's wrong?" Callum asks and it seems to make Ben frustrated. He shakes his head with a frown and raises his hand with pleading eyes when Callum opens his mouth again. 

"Please," he says, "Don't talk." 

Callum bites his tongue, he's proper worried now, but there's something in Ben's eyes that makes him halt, something in the way he clenches his jaw as if he's in pain, that seems to tell Callum not to pry further. So he nods, stroking over Ben's bicep in a soothing matter, and Ben relaxes visibly. He closes his eyes again, making it impossible for Callum to read him but Callum sees his bottom lip tremble for a short second before Ben hides his face back into Callum's chest. 

Number four, Callum thinks, makes him both love and hate Ben. He doesn't show it, doesn't ever want people to know about it, but Ben feels more than anyone Callum's ever met. Ben feels deeply and selflessly and Callum has experienced a fair share of moments where he's read it wrong, where he thought Ben had been self-centred and thoughtless when he's been the exact opposite. Callum counts himself lucky, being someone worthy of a love like that, but he also knows that it's the same kind of love he's feeling in his own chest, the same amount of love he's got floating in his veins. 

Still, Ben's selflessness makes him angry sometimes, how he feels like he has to keep everything to himself so he can protect Callum from the inevitable fallout. It makes him angry right now, the way Ben hides from him and shuts him down, but it also makes that itch in his throat even worse. The itch that wants Callum to burst it all out, every tiny little detail he's obsessed over, every word and action that made him fall in love with Ben over and over again. He's not allowed to talk though and something in him is grateful for it, he's not sure either of them are ready to hear of the depth of his feelings. As Ben kisses the hollow of Callum's throat, Callum thinks about the trust Ben has for him; the kind of trust that lets him do what he does now. He knows Callum won't push, he knows Callum will patiently wait for him until he's ready and he knows Callum will stand by him no matter what. 

And so here it is, number five; Ben's love for him. Ben lies about a lot of things, probably more than Callum will ever know, but not once has he questioned Ben's feelings for him. They had argued about it before but Ben had made clear then that Callum can be suspicious of everything Ben does but he should never, even for a second, think that Ben doesn't love him. Ben's both complicated and easy in that regard. He does these sketchy things to protect the people he cares about or to make his father proud and Callum understands that, to some extent. But Ben has the tendency to twist words in his mind, seek approval where it shouldn't matter and push away the people closest to him. He's a storm and Callum has found himself stuck in his gale more often than not but he also knows that there's more to it. He knows of the soft breeze after thunder, of Ben's tenderness and apologetic touches. He knows of the sunshine, warm and comforting in the depth of Ben's eyes. It's in the way he kisses the raindrops away, soothing and gentle, and Callum finds himself falling in love all over, every time. As frustrating and challenging as it can be sometimes, there's not a single thing that Callum doesn't love about Ben and nothing will ever change that.

[bookocd]

A Court of Pain and Dreams

I started to write this fanfic before ACOWAR came out, so a couple things may be different (you will see what I mean when you read this part). I hope you guys enjoy it and I absolutely love writing it. 

This is about Feyre and Rhys’s son, and a female from the Court of Nightmares ;)

Links: 

Part 1

PART 2:

“What were you thinking!” 

There were papers spread across the table where the inner circle usually ate. The two chairs at the head of the table were being occupied by the two most powerful beings in the world, or as Cal called them, his parents. 

“I didn’t-” He was quickly interrupted by his infuriated mother once again. 

“No you weren’t thinking. This meeting has been scheduled for weeks now, and you have been on time for every single step of planning, but you decide that the most important day is the one you are going to be late for. And not just late, I might add, but 3 hours late. I’ve never been this disappointed in you Callum.” 

Callum flinched, literally flinched. His mother was half a room away and he still felt as though she had punched him in the chest. It wasn’t the anger that had gotten to him. It was her saying his full name. No one in the family used his full name, and Feyre using it showed how truly upset she was. 

In his entire life his parents had been his best friends, they were truly the only people that understood the pressure he was under, and the amount of power that ran through his veins. Cal only ever wanted to make his parents proud, it was his one goal, and seeing that one mistake was almost ruining that goal made Cal sink into despair. 

But, his sadness started to shift into anger. Anger over the fact that one mistake was creating this sort of reaction. He knew he fucked up, but he was still young and learning. He wasn’t perfect, his past showed that, but his parents had never expected him to be. 

He started to realize that it wasn’t his parents in front of him, it was his High Lord, and Lady. He wasn’t their son right now, he was their heir. 

Taking a deep breath he tried to be the leader he desperately wanted to be, the leader he needed to be. Instantly he decided to state his wrong doing and take the punishment. “I understand I made a mistake, a large mistake, but I’m here now.”

Rhysand had been silent when his son walked in, and while his mate yelled, but he stood to finally confront his only child. 

“We do not expect you to be perfect, but we do expect you to be responsible. The Court of Nightmares has been around to long, and now that we finally have peace externally, it is now time to look within. We had a plan, one that included you, and now we must change everything, because they will think our lateness is a representation of our disrespect.” Unlike his mate, Rhys wasn’t yelling or angry, but he truly wanted Cal to understand the weight of his actions. 

Feyre stood as well, which showed a very low cut dress that Cal had never wanted to see his own mother wear. “We were trying to keep up relations with them, so they wouldn’t think we would dare try to dissolve their court. Now we might have to wait for months, until they have their defenses down again. We want this court gone, I never want any of us to have to play the roles of sadistic killers ever again. I never want to have to go to the place where Mor-”

Everyone’s breath caught at the name, but it was when Feyre punched the table with so much strength it broke in two that the truth about her anger was understood. 

Cal glanced over to the shadows in the corner of the room, to Az. The male hadn’t moved one inch since the conversation had began. Everyone knew Az was in a dark place since Morrigan had died, but he was the biggest supporter of ending the Court of Nightmares and it was one of the only things he spoke about. He barely talked to anyone anymore, and the only time Cal saw him was durning Inner Court meetings, never dinners or parties. He was grieving, but it had been close to 50 years since the war, and everyone was starting to worry about him. 

With a snap of his fingers, Rhys had the table back together and the scattered papers in a neat pile on top. 

Moving over to his mother, Cal pulled her into a hug, before Rhys could. “I know how much she meant to you, and you have no idea how much I wish I could have met the amazing women you have described to me. I swear a mistake like this will never happen again, and it will not ruin our plans. If I have to tear apart their court piece by piece I will, and I’ll even let you guys help if you ask nicely.” 

A soft laugh came from his mother, who’s face was on Cal’s shoulder. Being closer to his fathers height, he had couple of inches on his mother. “You have enough arrogance and cockiness worthy of your father.” 

Before Rhys could respond with more than a quick snort, Azriel came forward and said something colder than anyone had ever heard from him. “Why don’t we stop talking about her, and move on to actually avenging her.”

Everyone understood his pain, so no one moved to argue with him. Cassian shifted to his brothers side and rested a hand on his shoulder.  

Flynn, who usually was the one to diffuse the tension, coughed awkwardly and replied. “Well then let's just get going. We don’t need to give them an apology, and if we do they will know somethings wrong. We say something came up and we couldn’t get there on time, but they should be happy we came at all.” An evil smirk came to his face as he continued with, “then we can fuck with them like usual.”

“I agree. Let’s go right now.” Cal moved to leave, thinking that everyone would follow. Then he heard Feyre’s laugh behind him and he turned. 

“You aren’t even wearing a shirt.” This made him look down at his bare chest. 

“So that’s why I’m so cold. Father do you have one I could use? I really don’t think that the female I was with will ever want to see me again.” Cringing at his last sentence, he looked to his mother, who’s face was reddening. 

“We really have to work on your filter.” Flynn looked as if he was trying not to burst out laughing.

Now in his fathers clothes, Cal walked into the Court of Nightmares. The silk shirt and dress pants were way more fancy then what Cal usually wore, but he didn’t mind the change, especially, because of the fact that walking into this place made him into a different person..

As the group walked slowly into the mountain, Cal looked around at everyone. Cass, Flynn, and Az, who were flanking the sides of the group, all were wearing fighting leathers, with their seven siphons glowing with the power that radiated through their owners. Cal looked at each of his companions siphons, Cass’s glowing red as blood, Az with his cold and fierce blue, and Flynn in his newly made silver, which made his eyes shine. Feyre, now fully in his view as she and Rhysand walked hand and hand in front of him, he could see was wearing not just an incredibly low cut dress, but it also had one very prominent slit running up the side of her right leg and gaps in the fabric at her hips and back. It was a deep green that sparkled like an emerald and he couldn’t help but thank the Cauldron he couldn’t hear what his father was saying in her ear, because what ever it was made a pink blush form on his mothers neck. 

As they got closer, they started to hear the sounds of a fight. Fists hitting skin, bodies landing hard on the ground, and people yelling sadistic things they wanted to see happen. Then all at once all of the noise stopped and the silence beckoned him forward. The group turned into the main hall, the group halted at the sight in front of them. Cal moved to the side of his parents, unaware of what he was about to witness. 

Shock tore through his body as he saw the Kier sitting like a king in his fathers throne, and a plate of food in the identical one right next to him, which was meant for Cal’s mother. 

Cal could feel the anger now coursing through Rhysand, but it wasn’t until he saw who was fighting that he himself felt his power start to awaken. 

A female standing alone in the center of the room, was being surrounded by at least 15 men. All High Fae, and all bearing their teeth at her. 

Without moving the young girl allowed the men to move around her, because she knew they wouldn’t attack until the Kier said so. “You don’t deserve to live,” one said to her. She didn’t even look up at the male issuing the threat. 

Cal knew very well that the Kier knew, but just didn’t care, that the Court of Dreams were all standing in the opening to the throne room. Cal also knew that the male wasn’t going to be leaving this room without several, probably many, broken bones. 

The Kier laughed at the killers inside the circle and very calmly said, “Begin.”

The female’s head snapped up at the first attacker. He went at her with a knife and moving faster than anyone could have moved, she blocked his arm, and moved her opposite hand to snap his arm at the elbow. The male didn’t even have time to roar in pain, because within one second of his arm breaking, she had his knife in his heart. 

The striking blue eyes that he saw poking out of the strands of dark brown hair kept Cal’s attention, until he saw the lifting of one side of her mouth. 

“Who’s next?” 

A second later there was so much movement, it was hard to tell where one person started and another ended. No one got the better of the female, because she was always one step ahead. She first played around with them, blocking and maneuvering as if she were in training, until she finally decided to end them. 

Two males came at her from both sides at full speed, at the last second she took a step back, which made them run right into each other. As they were falling to the ground, she grabbed them both by the neck and squeezed. Cal could hear their cracking windpipes from the opposite side of the room. 

Suddenly two knives showed up in her hands, and her attackers started dropping like flies, but in one instance, the biggest male of the group started going at her from behind. Cal winnowed right in front of him. The punch he received and blood that the male spit out, only enraged him more. Cal and the male started to circle each other. In the back of his mind he saw the female still fighting the last couple of pricks, and he heard his father telling everyone to stop and then felt his magic surge forward, but if she was still fighting then so would he. The male finally lunged at him, but Cal dodged right, and as he spun and kicked, his foot landed at the base of the males spine, which made him fall forward to the ground. 

Hearing the sounds of a feminine grunt, he whipped his head around to see the female moving her jaw back and forth and a purple bruise already forming on her face. 

Her answering smile was the scariest thing Cal had ever seen. “Congratulations, because you are the only male to hit me, I will not kill you.” 

The male let a breath out, and started to back away, but the female suddenly wrap a foot around the back of his legs and had him on the ground. 

Looking down at him with a straight line for a mouth, she walked around his laying body with a growl in the back of her throat. 

“One thing you need to know about me.” She stopped walking once she was at his feet again, so that he could see her completely. She placed her hand in front of her, with her palm pointing up, and closed her fingers slowly into a fist. As the fingers in her hand started to bend, the male in front of her started to scream, noises that would plague Cal’s nightmares. His skin dried and crinkled and then all at once the male turned into dust. The female looked down at the dust pile, and put her hand down. “I lie.”

Cal heard the battle cry before he felt the swift kick of the male he was to distracted to see coming. He felt the ground under his face, and the feel of a foot on the back of his head. 

“Be happy you are the High Lord and Lady’s runt. If you weren’t you would be-” The end of the sentence never came and the pressure lifted from his head. He quickly turned around to see a knife sticking through the front of his attacker. 

Then all of a sudden the body was kicked from behind, and it landed right on Cal.

“Shit!” Cal threw the body off of him and stood up in front of the female. It was the first time he could look closely at her face. Her blue eyes were even more striking up close, and the incredible number of freckles across her pale skin made him surprised that she didn’t have red hair. The hair that was falling out of her braid, was a deep brown and reminded him of the dark chocolate his mother always brought him when he was sick. 

“What the hell was that for.” No matter how beautiful he found her, he still wanted to know why the fuck she threw a dead body on him. 

“I didn’t need your help.” And with that comment she punched him in the face, landing him right on the ground again. 

Off in the distance he heard the distinct laughter of Flynn, and him saying, “Oh I like this one.”

[heythatpenguinhere]

Home

*Hey guys! TWO fics in one night! Enjoy this short and fluffy story as I get back to writing again! Sorry for any errors, I was excited.

Rayla had faced danger before; she had faced angry dragons, dark mages, thieves, monster animals, and beyond. Yet now, standing in front of a door that led to her home, she couldn’t recall a more terrifying moment. 

-

Becoming a “thing” with Callum really didn’t take that much thought or preparation. It was something that just happened in the midst of their journey and while there had to have been some concerns on how things would work out, neither of them let any fears stop them. Now, post battle, peace was settling and things were finding a new normal. With this settling came a daunting realization to Rayla: she could maybe go home and be accepted back in with her people again. 

News spread of the battle that had played out with elves and humans, battling side by side to defend the Dragon Prince and Queen and defeat a dark magic army. It seemed ridiculous and even impossible to consider, but those that were there for themselves testified what they had witnessed. Specific names stood out in the retellings and Rayla’s name was among them. This gave her hope that once word got to her village, she would no longer be banished and they’d at least allow her to explain herself now. She held hope out. 

She wanted to show Callum where she was born and raised for real and introduce him to those she knew. She also desperately wanted to be with Ethari now that Runaan was… gone just like her parents. Rayla knew that it would not be an easy thing to bring a human into elf territory, but she was headstrong and determined. She would protect Callum and nothing would stop them. 

A romantic union of any kind between Elf and Human wasn’t going to be too welcomed, but she could only hope that those closest to her would understand. For them to understand however, she’d have to tell them to begin with. 

Rayla winced at her mind’s scenarios of how that could possibly go. Her feet hung from the side of the Storm Spire’s edge as clouds passed underneath her. Romance could be so complicated already, much more so in her position. Rayla was so in her thoughts that she didn’t even notice footsteps coming toward. 

“Enjoying the view?” Callum said, settling down beside her. 

“Sorta. Just doing some thinkin’ is all.” She said back to him. 

Callum leaned into her side a little, “Penny for your thoughts?” 

She looked at him. She loved catching his strong gaze on her. The color of his eyes was something she’d never forget as she had admired them for quite some time now. 

“I’m just wonderin’ what the others will say when they find out about...us.” She said. 

Callum tilted his head back. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t been thinking about that too. From the Dragon Queen to Ethari and beyond, Callum had indeed wondered how people would react to them and how they would present it. It partially irritated him that he had to worry about it, but it was more than worth it. 

“They won’t chase me away from the village with pitchforks right?” He said half joking, half not. 

Rayla giggled, “No you dummy… They’d definitely be using swords or arrows.” 

Callum froze for a second at Rayla’s words and only relaxed a bit when she began to laugh. 

“That was only half a joke right?” He asked for clarity. 

“Yup.” 

-

Arriving back to her village Rayla’s nerves began to amplify. She could feel herself begin to tremble a little as she played with her clasped hands. Her people were seeing her for the first time in quite a while. Things had changed and her status was no longer the same, but was she ready to be let in again? 

A larger hand grasped onto her’s. She could feel his strong, yet worried gaze on her as she looked downward. 

“Rayla, it’s going to be okay. You aren’t alone.” Callum reassured her as he stepped closer to her. 

Moving his hand to grasp her chin, Rayla’s face was lifted gently up to meet Callum’s. She took in every detail of his face as she felt her eyes shifting and observing. It was still difficult for her to fully express her feelings and some were harder to express than others, but Callum never failed to understand this. He had become quite good at realizing when to press forward a bit more or when to give her space. She had no idea how she’d be doing this without him. 

She squeezed his forearms, “I know.”

As soon as they began to step foot into the forested center, eyes widened and chatter began. The other Moonshadow elves eyed them with disbelief, suspicion, and even alarm. Rayla walked as confidently as she could with all these eyes watching them, but with Callum’s hand tightly in her’s she knew she could do it. There was no denying they could now see her and as they began to realize who she brought with her, there was no doubt they were hesitating perhaps to attack. She knew that no humans had ever stepped foot in her home or even near it and her she was bringing one willingly in. She kept her gaze forward and kept walking until she reached the home she had grown up in. 

They paused at the door, feeling behind them eyes that had likely followed. Rayla looked at the opening for minutes it seemed. Callum kept eyeing her and the door, but when he felt a tremble in her hand he immediately focused solely on her. 

“Do we need a big feelings time?” He said softly as he observed her for a reaction. 

Rayla looked into Callum’s eyes. Big feelings… Oh boy did she have a lot of them at the moment. 

“I-I just… I just don’t know what I’m going to say to him. We won a war, but Runaan is still lost Callum… I can’t bring him back. I feel selfish in a way… to be coming back now that all is done… Runaan couldn’t come back and now here I am and with someone I care deeply about and didn’t lose while Ethari did...” She spoke in hushed tones, emotions deeply embedded in her words. 

Callum had a feeling she had begun to feel some guilt. After the battle and celebrations, he had noticed her mind doze off to some far off thought. He could tell by the way her face and posture changed that she was deep in thought about her family and what was left of it. While they had won, it hadn’t erased the loses. Callum knew how she felt… His mother was not coming back, King Harrow wasn’t coming back, and neither was Zym’s father. All of them were losses in a bitter war that had come to an end before they could see it. While he hadn’t known Runaan really, he knew that to Rayla he was family. Now she was coming home and part of her home wouldn’t be there. What’s more, Rayla had found and kept a love and Ethari had not been so lucky… 

“Rayla, I can’t pretend to fully understand what you’re going through right now even if I kinda get it. You’re right, those we lost don’t get to come back and celebrate or see us happy… But, I really do think that they’d want us to live. I don’t think they’d want us to live with guilt and if Ethari is just like you said he is then I know he wouldn’t want you to feel that way either.” Callum spoke tilting his head towards the door. 

“What’s more Rayla no matter what others may think of us and what we have, I know how I feel about you. I know that I love you and that you are strong enough to handle this, but I’ll stay by your side to remind you if you need it.” He finished with a strong squeeze of her hand. 

Rayla’s eyes were wide as she processed his words. Callum was so candid about his feelings. While she had indeed faced guilt and fear walking up the steps to the home, she could feel those emotions bundling down and her adoration for the human prince in front of her grow yet again. Callum, her goofy, mage, human prince, loved her. He had walked through her village with confidence and strength while he too was being eyed and talked about. Callum had also lost from this war and yet he smiled. He smiled and reminded Rayla that it was alright to be happy even after all that they had gone through. Callum reminded her to live truly. Right now, life was presenting her a chance to start again with what was left of her family and people. 

With a look of determination on her face Rayla nodded her head. She reached her hand up to knock on the door, but before she hit it she turned to Callum and gave him a strong kiss, not caring at all who was around to see. Callum had that goofy far off look on his face when she pulled back and she couldn’t help but laugh even as gasps rang off behind them. Let them look, they better get used to it because they’d see more of that coming she thought. 

With two strong knocks to the door, Callum and Rayla stood patiently waiting. And with a slight shuffle, the door opened to Ethari standing tall in its place. 

Rayla felt her heart drop in anticipation as Ethari’s eyes took in the sight of the both of them. 

“R-Rayla?” He asked in disbelief. 

“I’m home Ethari.” She said firmly. 

He stared at the both of them for a moment more before rushing forward and embracing Rayla tightly. Rayla froze, unsure what to do. 

“I wasn’t sure I’d see you again…” He said eyes closed. 

Callum stood awkwardly to the side, giving them space. He couldn’t help but smile however as he watched on. He had a feeling Ethari would welcome Rayla back warmly. 

“I’m here now. The Dragon prince is with his mother. The Dragon Queen is awake and the war is over. I’m here… I’m home.” Rayla said, tears beginning to pool in her eyes with the weight of her words rushing over her. 

Ethari stepped back to look at her over and hug her again. He noticed the human prince still with her and fully stepped backwards to look at them both. Rayla’s face read relief, happy tears, and love. Callum’s read adoration, equal relief, and also love. Ethari knew that look well enough to understand without words what had grown between the two young ones in front of him. Looking between the two he smiled. Rayla had always been different and special this he knew. Now she was growing up and falling in love even if wasn’t exactly what he had envisioned truthfully. But looking at the unspoken feeling in the air as the prince wiped Rayla’s tears gently, he could easily get over that. No words needed to be said...

“Yes, I see that you are home.” He said placing a hand on her shoulder and the prince’s with a warm smile.

[softlofty]

stitches

missing scene from the episode of january 13th 2020. READ THIS ON AO3

Ben slams the phone down on the table. What if Louise has run off to the police? Has she gone to Martin again? Did she tell anyone? How is Ben going to keep her in check? What-

The door opens, and Ben turns around.

His train of thought sizzles out. Quiet, finally.

Just friendly, familiar eyes looking back at him. He stands for a moment, just looking at Callum. It almost feels like he’ll disappear if Ben sticks his hand out. His words had been harsh enough to keep him away for a while, those cold nights on the streets, twinkling lights all around them. But he came back anyway. He came back for Ben.

Callum’s gaze on him is hesitant but steady. Ball’s in your court now. Ben swallows thickly.

Ben comes towards him, two simple steps forward, but the proximity to Callum after three weeks of agony and trying to convince everyone (including himself) that he’s fine, is enough to make him feel slightly dizzy. Callum’s still there. He hasn’t shouted, he doesn’t look angry even though he must be. The man who loves him is right there and it feels like everything inside of Ben screams at him to reach out.

The stack of papers falling on the floor makes a definitive sound, this is happening. Callum’s dropping his backpack and Ben gets a hand behind his head, pulling him in. It’s not long before Ben feels the hard surface of the desk digging into his back but he doesn’t object. If he gets to have this, these are probably the circumstances he deserves. You wanted a night in a hotel together? Bottle of champagne and some candles? Then you should have told him you love him back. No, it’s frantic and desperate and they haven’t spoken a word in three weeks. The door isn’t locked and they’re not together.

But it’s good, and Ben hates himself for it a little bit. Hates how somehow this is the most normal he’s felt since it all started. How they fall back into place so easily and effortlessly, Callum’s hand covering the side of Ben’s head, Ben’s arm slung around Callum’s neck. He lets Callum tower over him, pressing him down, hooks his legs around Callum’s torso. His eyes are closed but he can feel Callum everywhere, smell the cologne on his skin, the sensation of Callum’s tongue against his own making his insides warm.

Ben can hear the clinking of a belt opening but Callum keeps kissing him, presses his mouth to Ben’s jaw, his neck. His mouth falls open but Ben closes it again, swallowing every pet name that threatens to spill, knowing that whatever’s holding them together right now will be broken if he does. He doesn’t dare let Callum’s name rest on his lips, the very sound of that name coming out of Ben’s mouth being a declaration of love inherently. Instead he breathes out slowly, Callum coming back up now that both of their trousers and pants are halfway down their legs. Callum runs a hand up Ben’s thigh, thumb rubbing over the skin on the inside, where it’s softer, and Ben lets his eyes fall closed again.

There’s some more rustling, Ben thinks Callum’s gone for a second or two and then he’s back again, but he feels so much that he doesn’t really notice. Callum kisses him again, hovering close as he pushes his hips forward slowly. Ben sighs into the small pocket between their mouths. They pick up a rhythm and Ben gets an arm around Callum’s neck again to bring him impossibly closer, blue eyes staring back into his own, noses brushing. Ben clenches his legs around Callum’s waist and Callum groans into his neck. He lets Callum have what he wants, take control every now and then, and something inside Ben glows with pride at the man who has grown so much into loving a man so deeply. Callum with all of the knots twisted inside his head, who thought there was only one way to live a life, now moans near Ben’s ear when Ben cants his own hips up.

There’s a flush starting to spread in Callum’s face and Ben can feel sweat building on his own forehead. Callum hovers above his face. “I’m,” Callum pants, and Ben digs his ankle into Callum’s back and nods, “yeah.” They speed up their movements and Ben hones in on this feeling, on being one with Callum, on the way Callum starts kissing him again and it’s bolder, open-mouthed and dirty. Ben wants nothing more than to stay in this moment, stay here, under Callum, where everything is Callum, and he doesn’t have to bother with anything else. He curses as Callum chases his own high and then takes Ben over the edge with him.

It takes a few seconds before Callum lifts his weight off of Ben, and Ben tries to regain his breath as Callum cleans himself off. They get dressed again, and Ben can’t help but crack a joke, if only to extend this temporary haze a bit longer. Callum smiles and looks away, and Ben can feel his heart squeeze in his chest at the sight. “I’ve missed you,” Callum says then, and Ben stills for a moment, but can’t bring himself to lie. “Yeah,” Ben says as he buttons up his shirt, “I’ve missed you too.” “So why did you break up with me then?” Callum asks, and gravity is pulled back into the room as everything sinks again.

“This was a mistake,” Ben says after a few beats, and he knows this is unfair, but he doesn’t get to have this. “It was a fun mistake, but it was a mistake.” “It didn’t feel like one, Ben,” Callum says, and of course it didn’t, because they’re fucking magic, aren’t they, and Ben feels it just like Callum does. Ben tries to wave him off and then Callum mentions Sharon and Keanu, and the dread in Ben’s stomach swirls again as he feels himself harden, clenched jaw and calculated gaze. “Did something happen?” Ben wavers for the smallest moment, on the cusp of falling and breaking, but he catches himself just in time. “Look at you, you’re not even a copper yet and you’re already asking questions,” Ben says and Callum immediately tells him off for it, hates it how Ben always does this, always deflects, and Ben hates it too. Callum wants the truth so Ben tells him. “You’re too good for me Callum,” and it’s not even a lie. “So why don’t you do us a both a favour and walk away. This will all end in tears, and they won’t be mine,” Ben says, the lie feeling bitter in his mouth.

He starts picking up the papers from the floor. Only reason they won’t be your tears is if you’ve drank so much you can’t cry anymore. You’re a coward for walking away from something so good. So good that you don’t even deserve to have it. Why did Callum get to let his dad go but you will never be able to? Callum leaves. Ben hears it more than he sees it. As soon as the door shuts he lets his shoulders drop, sitting down on the desk and pressing his palms into his eyes. It’s only later that he realises that this was the first time in three weeks that he hadn’t thought about Louise, Phil, Sharon or Keanu for longer than a few minutes. The rubbing in his eyes makes colours explode beneath his eyelids. His limbs feel heavy and cold. You love him, you liar.

[whumping-every-day]

Vampire Whump: Future Edition

For the lovely anon who requested Mind Rape with Callum for the BDHB! Thank you for writing in, anon!

This is set in some unnamed period in the future, where Ash is doing a little better, and Callum is helping him recover. This turned into great world building for things I hadn’t planned to introduce yet, so,,, enjoy, I suppose??? xD

Content warnings: Some mind control/mind invasion (in the form of a vampire’s thrall), violence, threats, some blood, fear, Callum acts very out of character, whump with no comfort.

--

“L-leave him alone.” Ash’s voice is frightened, but he’s determined, staring the other vampire down. His hands shake at his sides.

“Or what?” The second vampire is older; it’s visible in the ashen quality of its skin, the way its flesh seems to cling to its bones. It’s grinning, eerie and sharp, and it has Callum by the throat.

“Just-” Ash’s voice wavers, and he grits his teeth and clenches his fingers, trying desperately to quell the rising tide of panic. He can’t panic now, not like this, not when the master - or, no. Not when Callum is in trouble. “Let him go,” he snaps, and this time is almost sounds commanding.

The older vampire only laughs. Callum is frozen, but there’s fury in his eyes as he grapples at the creature’s arm. “Get - get off of me,” he spits, and the vampire sinks its fingers into golden locks and yanks his head back.

“I don’t think I will,” it purrs.

It unsheathes its fangs, glistening in the pale moonlight, and Ash cries out and takes a step closer. “Stop it!” The panic is audible, this time, and Ash feels something cold trickle down his spine as the vampire pauses. It could so easily hurt him like this... Callum is disarmed, and the quarters are too close to win in a brawl against a vampire.

“You care for this human?” The creature strokes long, pale fingers against Callum’s throat, and the hunter growls.

“I-” Ash balks, meeting Callum’s eyes from across the clearing. No one’s ever asked him that, Ash has never thought about that. He just knows that Callum had saved him. He knows that Callum is the reason he exists at all.

“Too slow,” the creature hisses, and Ash bares his own fangs in response; they are much smaller than the other vampire’s, young and untested.

“I said get away from him!” It’s screamed more than said, and Ash tenses to lunge forward; he’s smaller than the other creature, and if it gets its teeth into Callum’s throat it will be too late… he’s too far away. Ash can already see it, and Callum can see it too. But he can’t not try.

“Tell me, little one. Why should I?” The question is rasped around elongated canines, and the vampire nuzzles a path along Callum’s throat, scenting the hunter’s fluttering pulse. Ash draws in a short breath, but he doesn’t get the chance to answer. “I’ll tell you what,” the creature murmurs. “I’ll play nicely, and let you have your little friend back. However…”

The vampire shoves Callum to the ground and twists a hand in his hair. The hunter makes a low, angry sound in response to the pain, and the elder vampire only laughs. Callum knows how much trouble they are in, even if Ash perhaps does not; he’s close enough to tell exactly how much older this vampire is, and it is ancient. It smells like death and rot, and its fingers are paper smooth and powdery as they tip his chin up. A vampire this old is deadly… and a vampire this old will have full mastery of its thrall.

“You can have your hunter back. After I leave you a little present.”

Callum tries to avoid the creature’s eyes, he does. But he snarls and twists away from the hand on his chin, and the vampire rakes its claws across his face without hesitation. Callum cries out in shock, feeling something warm and wet dripping into his eye.

“Ah ah,” the creature is saying. “If you want to get him back in one piece, little one… you stay where you are.” Callum can’t see Ash anymore. He’s on the ground with an arm twisted behind his back, and the vampire has clawed fingers gripping his jaw. “Look at me, human.” Callum bared his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut. The creature sighs faintly, and Callum feels more than sees it crouch down behind him. “Look at me,” it whispers, and its tone is low enough that only Callum can hear. “Or I will rip your throat out, and disassemble your little pet over there.” There’s unimaginable strength behind its grip as it squeezes Callum’s jaw; it is not an empty threat.

Callum hisses in air through gritted teeth, but he opens his eyes. The vampire is waiting for him.

“S-sir? Callum? What are you doing to him, s-stop it!”

He can hear Ash’s voice in his peripheral, but Callum’s full attention is on the older vampire’s eyes. They’re black like pitch, spreading to cover the sclera, and he knows what’s coming just as it happens.

Callum has been thralled before, and it feels a lot like falling. He’s tumbling, suddenly, thrown head over heels in his own mind, and he can’t steady himself. The hunter gasps and sways, and the vampire coos as he goes lax and pliant.

“That’s it, just relax.”

“What are you doing, leave him alone, please-”

“Oh, for the love of god, shut up.” The older vampire barely spares Ash a glance, even as its claws remain poised at the hunter’s throat. “Be good and wait,” it murmurs. “You’ll get him back alive.”

Callum can’t move, can’t see or speak or think. It’s like trying to tread water in a monsoon, and suddenly there’s a bright, overbearing pressure. It’s strong enough to knock the breath out of him, and Callum gasps for air, hands twitching at his sides.

He can feel the vampire rooting around in his head, and Callum is helpless against it, even as it riffles through him like his memories are pages in a book.

Hmm. So he is your pet. It’s not a voice so much as it’s a gong, and Callum grits his teeth and folds in on himself at the volume, even if it’s just in his head. A charity case, was it… poor bastard. And you, you wanted to try and save him… There’s a chuckle then, and it echoes and bounces off the insides of Callum’s skull, hard enough to make him queasy. He can’t answer, can’t respond – he can’t do anything. He’s helpless in the creature’s grasp. Callum had always known he would die at the hands of a vampire, but he had hoped it wouldn’t be like this… Ah, I see. The creature is still jumbling his memories around, and its presence in Callum’s mind makes him sick. It feels like decay, sick and rotting as it twines through the most intimate part of him. You wanted something to practice on… so you went and found yourself a creature that would take it without question.

No, Callum mouths soundlessly. No, it wasn’t like that…

Wasn’t it? The vampire’s inner voice booms, and it laughs at Callum’s ineffective struggling. Or was it exactly like that. He stays because he doesn’t know any better, and you keep him because you are guilty.

It’s not true. Callum knows it’s not true. But with the vampire in his head, pushing aside his thoughts and substituting them with its own… it is hard to remember what’s true and what isn’t.

So far, the creature has only searched, only looked. But once it has what it was digging around for, the tone of its presence changes.

You are guilty. And when I release you from this… you are going to hurt him.

Callum’s eyes widen in panic, the last vestiges of his own control battling for independence. He can feel the difference between an observation and a command in the last statement. No. No, he won’t hurt Ash, no!

You will. Because I am telling you to. And you. Will. Do. As. I. Say. Each word is punctuated with an enormous push of will, and Callum is strong for a human, but he’s not that strong.

“No,” he gasps weakly as the vampire keeps pushing. “Please…” Callum can feel himself weakening, falling under the creature’s spell, falling into obedience. He knows all the warnings signs, he knows what’s happening... but it’s impossible to resist a thrall this strong.

You will hurt him, because he is a vampire, and every moment leading up to this has been foolishness. Aren’t you supposed to hunt creatures like him? Not keep them around on a leash? There’s more laughing, and Callum is too disjointed to tell where it’s coming from, or even where he is – what’s going on? He doesn’t like it, he wants it to stop.

The hunter is released with a shove to his chest, and Callum falls to the ground with a gasping cry, his eyes wild and unfocused. Hurt him, the voice in his head keeps echoing. Hurt him, hurt Ash, hurt the vampire. It deserves it.

Callum cannot shake the feeling of something being terribly wrong, and he scrambles away from the towering vampire, immediately reaching for a stake. But his belt is empty, and his crossbow takes too long to load – had he been thralled?

Something blurs past him, and Ash lunges for the second vampire’s throat just as Callum pushes back to his feet. His vampire is much smaller, but Ash is fighting like he’s terrified.

He goes for the other vampire’s throat first, then his eyes, and the older vampire evades Ash effortlessly. It seems surprised, but in the end the younger vampire is thrown like he weights nothing. He skids to a stop and is immediately back on his feet, teeth bared and hissing.

In the interim, Callum frantically glances around their surroundings, and dives for the discarded wooden stake. By the time Ash lands behind him with a thump, Callum has it in hand, braced for combat. His mind is still woozy, still shaken, but his stance is firm.

But the elder vampire does not attack, and Ash scrambles to Callum’s side, breathing hard and shaking. Aggression still feels wrong to him, after so much abject obeisance. They are both on the defensive, and the other vampire takes a step away, holding up its hands.

“Hey, now. How about we call this a night. Leave you two to your own devices.” It smiles, wide and sickly, and Ash growls louder. But it is an ancient thing, this creature, and if it wants to leave… they can’t stop it. “Until next time, boys.”

Callum half expects it to simply vanish into the darkness, like all the legends and myths say vampires do. Instead, it turns and walks away, and even though it shows them its back without fear, it is somewhat anticlimactic. It’s a strange sort of de-escalation, and for a moment it’s like the air is still. Ash listens to the vampire’s faint footsteps until he can’t hear them anymore, and then there’s silence.

Callum is still woozy. He remembers being caught, being pinned, and then there’s nothing. A sharp pain shoots through his skull, and the hunter gasps, doubling over.

“Callum? Are you okay?”

The hunter’s head snaps up, and for a split second, he doesn’t see Ash, pale and drawn with worry. He sees a vampire, and he’s got his crossbow out before he knows what he’s doing. “Get away from me,” he snarls, and the vampire flinches like he’s been shot.

“C-Callum?”

The human is breathing heavily, and his grip on the crossbow isn’t as steady as he needs it to be. Something is wrong, he can feel that much, but he can’t seem to tear his gaze away from the vampire in front of him. It’s dangerous, they were all dangerous – how could Callum have been stupid enough to leave it alive? To be kind to it?

You’re going to hurt him, a voice whispers, and Callum doesn’t know if it’s a command or a promise. He’s still dizzy.

The vampire has gone deathly still, dark eyes wide, and a distant part of Callum’s mind supplies a name. Ash. This is Ash. He knows this vampire. He doesn’t want to hurt it. But Callum’s finger is closing on the trigger before he can make the conscious decision. Or perhaps, it happens without him choosing at all.

“I don’t know what it d-did to you, but – Callum? I - nngk!” The vampire crumples with a bolt sticking out of its leg, and Callum loads the bow again on autopilot, swift and decisive. The motions come easy, borne from years of practice, so Callum can’t understand why something in him is screaming to stop. This is what he does, is it not? He’s a hunter. This is his job, this is his purpose in life.

“Callum, what are you doing? W-wait, just – just wait, please-” The creature scrambles back as Callum advances, but it freezes and whimpers when Callum points the crossbow at it again. It’s not trying to escape; instead it’s cowering, looking at him with those wide, frightened eyes. “C-Callum? I’m – I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have – I shouldn’t have gotten in the way, p-please – I’m sorry.” The bolt quivers from where it’s sticking out of its thigh, and the vampire sniffs pathetically.

Callum could stake him from here. The bolts are made of wood; one to the heart and it would all be over. But somehow, that doesn’t seem right. You’re going to hurt him, the voice whispers, and Callum wonders back if that means killing him, too.

After a long moment, the hunter lowers the bow. No, the voice whispers, he doesn’t have to kill it. The vampire shudders in relief, and it only whimpers softly as Callum strides over to it.

“I don’t know why I ever let you out of your cell,” the hunter mutters to himself. His own words are foreign, even as the mantra plays on a loop in his mind. Hurt him. Hurt him. Hurt him. Callum can still feel that sense of wrongness, niggling in the back of his brain. But he can’t focus on that yet, not while there’s a vampire free to prey on the unsuspecting countryside. Callum will put everything where it belongs, make sure everyone is safe, and then he’ll worry about why his head feels stuffed full of cotton.

This is Ash, he remembers, as if from a distance. He still moves like he’s on autopilot.

“Get up,” he snaps. He hauls the creature upright, and it whimpers softly but doesn’t fight him.

Ash is marched back to the lab and shoved into the cell he’s been sleeping in ever since he got there. The lock on the door hasn’t been used in months, but this time Callum snaps it shut, and gives it a solid rattle for good measure.

“I dunno what I was thinking,” the hunter mumbles, and it’s like he’s in a daze as he stumbles away. Ash sniffs again and sinks down to the floor, pushing back into the far corner. He knows the other vampire did something to Callum, but he doesn’t understand what. And he knows that Callum didn’t mean to shoot him… at least, he hopes not.

He’s been good, hasn’t he? He’s been trying his best. But… maybe his best wasn’t good enough.The hunter had seemed pretty certain when he’d pointed his weapon at Ash.

Blood is still welling up from around the embedded shaft, and Ash hiccups on a sob.

The cell had been converted into something like a bedroom a long time ago… the building was the sheriff’s station before it was a lab, so there isn’t much extra space. The cells are the bedrooms, and only two of them still have a door. There is a bunk and a little dresser in Ash’s, an electric lamp, even some clothes and shoes. There are three blankets on the bed, which is three more than he had ever expected. He debates on tearing up one of the shirts to stem the flow of blood, and then decided against it.

He must have done something to deserve this, somehow. He won’t earn further punishment by soiling the hunter’s clothes.

Ash is frightened, and in pain, but he curls up there on the floor and rests his head against the wall. He doesn’t understand what’s happening, and he has a horrible feeling that it had been a long time coming. Good things could never last for long, of course he was bound to screw up. But he could do nothing except wait for morning, and hope that perhaps by then, his transgressions would be forgiven.

[doof-doofblog]

“I’m Fine!”

Monday 1st June 2020

Good Morning/Afternoon folks! Once again, I apologise that this post is a little late, I unfortunately missed out on watching EastEnders last night, but I have watched it instead this morning and will cover it today, as well as posting later tonight following tonight's episode. So there will be two posts today! I know last night was the episode everyone has been waiting for, it's been teased as one of the most exciting and different episodes EastEnders have ever done.  

Wow! Just Wow! What an incredible episode! I don't think I've seen anything like this portrayed on TV, ever! I want to applaud everyone involved in this episode for making it so iconic and memorable! I'm sure this episode will go down as one of EastEnders most epic and memorable moments. EastEnders have been known to do episodes where it all focuses on just the one character, Dot did it once with a huge monologue that lasted the whole episode, Stacey had one where she was suffering from bipolar and postpartum psychosis, Bobby had one when he returned and was seeing the ghost of Lucy everywhere. This time it was all about Ben and focusing on his hearing loss, giving the viewers an insight to what it may be like for a person living without their hearing.

I was a little bit confused to what was happening right at the beginning, but of course it all makes sense. At first, I thought Ben might've been dreaming, but obviously it was all revealed later on in the episode. I thought it was wonderful how Lexi was using sign language to communicate with Ben, giving him his breakfast and asking him to tuck her up into bed at night, little Lexi is a beautiful little actress. Even when Ben and Lexi were walking through the Square, it was incredible how they did it. Ben not being able to hear exactly what's being said by everyone. He could see lips moving and people talking but not being able to hear just the sound of voices chattering. Even when Jean approached him and greeted him very briefly, he couldn't even make out what was being said to him! When he saw Lola and Peter talking from a distance, he knew something was going on, I thought it was very clever the way it was portrayed. He was so focused on something so far away, he didn't even see the van coming towards him and he nearly stepped out in front of it. Realising what he had done, he realised he might've scared Lexi and told her not to worry, what Lexi said then really touched me ... "Don't die Daddy, I need you. Even if your ears don't work!" - what a truly inspirational little girl!

Then the scene between him and Phil when they were in the house talking about the plans going forward with the job they were being involved in with Danny. Realising that Ben could only make out certain words Phil was saying, he kinda was getting some form of understanding at how the job would go. When Phil was explaining it and showing him the map, you just know that you're going to worry for Ben. Would he be able to go through with it? Even when Ben asked to him to slow down a little so he could lip read, even Phil was a little unsure as to whether Ben should take part. When he told Ben that perhaps he should stay away due to the state he was in with his hearing, Ben was clearly hurt. He was so desperate to prove to his Dad that he could help, regardless of his disability. He's said countless times that he is still the same. He is still the same lad who could help him, but he is very vulnerable, he doesn't want to believe it, but he is.

Oooooh and then he decided to approach Lola, after seeing her and Peter from a distance he needed to know what was going on between them. Even though he knew something was going on, he jumped to conclusions about Lola having an affair with Peter, this clearly and understandably upset Lola and she walked way, while Jay saw everything from afar. Later on Jay approached Ben asking what his issue with Lola was, it was only then Jay revealed to Ben that Lola aborted his baby due to Ben's current situation. To be honest, I kinda forgot that Lola didn't really tell anyone, I didn't realise it was just her and Jay who knew about the abortion. But that just made Ben even more angry, had she really blamed Ben as a cover up? Now, that scene between Lola and Ben in the Arches, I found was very powerful. Both of them shouting and pleading to each other, trying to understand each other, was incredible, especially due to the fact that Ben could only make out certain words that Lola was saying. Lola did admit to him that she only slept with Peter the once, only because she thought that they had split up and weren't getting back together. She also did make clear that the reason for her abortion was because of Ben, how would she have been able to cope with a newborn baby, Lexi and having to look after Ben because of his hearing loss. I hoped Ben would understand where she was coming from, but the question is now, what is Ben going to do with the information about her and Peter? He's clearly disappointed with her, surely he wouldn't tell Jay what she's revealed to him and upset his brother? Will he end up confronting Peter and warn him to stay away?! To be honest, it looked as if he was about to approach the Car Lot when he saw Peter inside, but then he got distracted by the cars arriving to pick Phil up for the job.

Realising he had missed the opportunity to sneak into the cars, he jumped into another car and followed. He arrived at what looked like a deserted building, slowly he made his way through trying to find where his Dad and Danny would be. I thought it was so clever that all you could hear was Ben's breathing and the odd sound of metal rumbling. When he found that liquid on the wall - was that blood?! Whatever it was, it scared him and he felt the need to grab his gun. I was a little concerned as I thought he would be getting himself into danger the more he walked through the building. Only then, what happened? His phone went off didn't it! Poor Callum was texting him asking him when he would be home, little did he know what his boyfriend was really getting up to! Then, he was found, a gun pointed in his back, all you could hear were the shakes and nerves in Ben's voice as he was eventually found, only to be led to a room where his Dad and Phil were.

Both of them looked so shocked to see him there, but it also looked as if Phil had been hit. I am right in saying that Phil had a mark on his forehead? Could that be where the blood on the wall had come from? What had they done to him? For a moment, I did think either Ben or Phil were going to be seriously hurt, only what happened next really shook me! Danny didn't want Ben there in the first place, he was angry that he had shown up and even said to Phil that he wouldn't take the risk. Danny knew Ben had hearing problems, but then what he did next really shocked me! He grabbed Ben, shouting at him "You can't hear me, can you?!" - "Is this your good ear? Is it?!" - and then BANG! ... For a moment, I wasn't too sure whether he had actually shot Ben in his good ear, or whether he had just shot the gun so close to his ear that it caused Ben to screech in pain, as the sound could've easily affected his hearing ability. Even when Danny turned around to Phil and said to him "Say goodbye to your son!" - you could see that Phil didn't want to put his son's life in danger. I don't know why, but I loved it when Ben and Phil were looking at each other and Phil was gesturing to Ben to actually do something, as if to say "C'mon! Get up and fight!" ... was Phil using sign language? Was that how Ben knew what to do? Whatever it was, I thought it was brilliant! Ben and Phil - The Mitchell's back to how they were! When they were battling their way through the gang members, I was like "Yeah!!! Go on boys!" HAHA!

However, they now needed to get away. Now, I don't know about you, but I was more worried for Phil at this moment, when I saw them running away, I didn't think Phil would get that far, but I'm happy and surprised to say that he did! Ben was clearly struggling behind him though, after being shot either in his ear or so close to his ear, the sound was ear-piercing and there was constant ringing in his ears, as much as he was trying to focus on his hearing loss, he was trying to focus on following his Dad. For a moment, I did think he was going to get lost, thankfully Phil came back for him and dragged him away before Danny and his gang could catch up. Phil got them to the van which had all the money inside and quickly drove it away before Danny could reach them. I'm happy to see that they both got away and Phil managed to get his money, but then - did anyone else notice? Complete silence! Ben could no longer hear what his Dad was saying, has he lost his hearing completely? Could this mean that Ben's permanently deaf? Could he still have his operation? There are so many questions to ask, the episode ended on such a cliffhanger! Is Danny going to come back for them and get his revenge? I don't think we've seen the last of Danny, after what happened in that episode, nah ... he's going to want to get to get revenge and I don't think he'll stop until he does. Does this mean that someone close to the Mitchell could get involved, as in like, kidnapped or hurt? What does this mean for Phil now also? Does he have enough money to buy Sharon the Vic? Will he realise what's happened with Ben's hearing? Is Callum going to find out what's happened to his boyfriend and where he was? SO MANY QUESTIONS!

Overall, I thought the episode was incredible! It really was an eye-opener and it gave an insight to what being deaf is really like. Everyone involved in this episode and story-line have been fantastic, Max Bowden really deserves an award for his performance in this episode. Steve McFadden, once again, nothing but greatness! In my opinion this has been one of the best episodes ever. I don't know where they're going to go from here regarding Ben, but i'm looking forward to seeing what happens next. We know this new character, Frankie, has been introduced. After what has happened with Ben and realising he's lost his hearing completely, will he take her up on her offer of introducing him to the deaf community and seeing how they carry on with their lives? It'll be a big insight for Ben and for viewers I believe. I'm really looking forward to seeing what's going to happen next, I am really excited.

Before I leave you, I'm aware that more spoilers have been released for next week's episodes, so I'll leave them here for you to look at. I'll try not to spoil too much for you but, due to a tracking device on his car, Gray finds out his car was driven to Stratford - it was Gray's car Ben used to go to the job - But will Gray jump to conclusions and accuse Chantelle of having an affair? Also Whitney is still clearly struggling, things get a bit awkward after she tries to kiss Gray. Then Keegan and Tiffany are still coming to blows with each other, could things be nearing the end for them? And lastly, Sharon has a difficult day ahead as Ian puts together a memorial for Dennis, what could she and Phil be talking about?

Thank you everyone for taking your time to read my blog! I hope you've all enjoyed it. What an amazing episode right? And we haven't got long to wait to see what happens next. I'll be back tonight with another blog following tonight's episode! Thanks again everyone! Stay safe! Love you all xXx

[wolvesofinnistrad]

we both know that ben + callum like playing their video games but could you imagine ben playing something + Callum just kinda comes in and sits between his knees and starts sucking him off and Ben’s trying not to moan n carry on with the game + he has like jay & people in his headset being like why are you suddenly dying and he has to make up an excuse cos he can’t say that he’s got his finger wrapped in his boyfriends hair and shoving his cock down cals throat (expand pls cos ur more talented)

Oh I really like this one, less headcanon and more drabble here.

Ben and Callum have been dating for a while at this point and it’s great.  They love one another, they’re living together, they have a great sex life its’ just that, well, Callum’s starting to feel maybe that some of that wild passion from before is waning.  Not that they don’t fuck like rabbits in bed, but all that tension from before is gone, and sure it’ replaced by comfort and peace of mind and freedom, but sometimes Callum did enjoy the danger of it all.

He remembers the thrill of being out in public at the park, of knowing that anyone could see them.  Also he remembers that he asked Ben to stop playing his game over an hour ago so they could get ready for bed.

Somehow the two things overlap in his mind, watching from the bedroom door as he sees Ben sitting on the couch, eyes glued to the telly as he chats with Jay animatedly.  He likes seeing him happy, but he wants some time with his boyfriend, and that’s how the idea pops into his head.

Under normal circumstances he probably wouldn’t do this, even with how much he’s grown more comfortable with himself, his desires, everything, it’s still a bit out of his league.  But then he thinks how if the roles were reversed Ben wouldn’t hesitate to toy with him like that so he whips off his shirt and walks over into the living room in just a pair of sweatpants held low on his hips.

“Hey Cal, just a few more matches, promise.”  Ben barely glances at him when he says it, hyper focused on the game.

“That’s alright, thought I’d just come out here for a bit.”  Callum smiles, sitting on the floor by Ben, waiting for a moment to strike.  When Ben get a big kill, whooping and tossing his hands in the air Callum sees his opportunity and quickly moves between his legs, pushing his thighs apart.

“Cal?” But Ben can’t focus on Callum when someone’s chasing him now so Callum has free reign to do as he pleases.

Callum’s big hands move up and down Ben’s thighs, massaging them slowly, rubbing deep into the skin until he hears Ben let out a shaky breath, glancing down just for a second at him.

He moves his head up, burying it in Ben’s crotch which gets another awkward, strangled noise out of Ben.  There’s only a thin pair of boxers covering Ben and Callum takes advantage, nuzzling against the man’s soft cock through the fabric until he it starts to fatten up.

“Callum what are y-, no fuck you stop camping me!” Ben’s still distracted, and Callum smirks, reaching into the man’s boxers and pulling his cock free.

That makes Ben gasp, breath coming sharp as Callum takes his cock to his lips, kissing the head and giving a few tiny licks.  Ben is the master of blowjobs in this relationship, but that also means he’s taught Callum mot of his tricks, and Callum has had enough time to play with Ben’s cock that he knows exactly what gets him going.

Like now when he holds the semi-soft base and starts running a line with his tongue all the way around Ben’s cockhead beneath his foreskin.

“Fuck...”  The sound is punched out and breathy, and followed by an explosion and a louder more angry “fuck!”  Callum giggles as he keeps up his work, hearing Ben yell “I know Jay, I’m just, sorry, I got c-caught.”

Ben’s prick is fully hard now, flushed red and Callum gently pulls his foreskin back and begins sucking on just the head how he knows drives Ben crazy.

“God...” Ben sounds so lost, he keeps glancing down at Callum sucking him then clearly being chastised for not paying attention and tries to drag his eyes back to the telly.

It’s actually been about two weeks since Callum has blown Ben, and he might have been practicing with one of their dildos in his spare time, so he starts bobbing, taking another inch or so every few times until he’s got Ben’s entire cock down his throat, kissing his abdomen and he can swallow around him.

He doesn’t have to wait long before he hears “Fuck Callum, please...”  It’s needy and desperate, and when Callum looks up Ben’s just staring down at him panting.

“Callum’s just here...  Distracting me,” Ben says over his headset and the fact he’s still talking to them, even if it’s labored makes Callum redouble his efforts.

Ben’s going to regret not quitting the match when he had the chance.

Callum pulls back, sucking hard on the head, hollowing his cheeks like Ben taught him months ago.  At the same time he uses his hand to stroke the base and shaft, holding Ben down by the hip with his other hand.  It’s no secret that Ben gets all soft and horny when Callum’s assertive, adds a bit of his weight on him or holds him down.

Ben gasps again, and theres the sound of his character dying once more.  Ben’s trying to talk but he’s just babbling excuses now.  His fingers are in Callum’s hair now, grasping, holding on.

Callum speeds up, sucking Ben aggressively, using his tongue as deftly as he can, making sure his teeth are hid behind his lips to create the best sort of glide with no restrictions.  He’s taking Ben deep on every slide and he hears the man choke and another death followed by the controller falling to the floor.

“Callum, fuck, Callum oh god!”

Faintly, very faintly he can hear what sounds like muffle yelling from the headset, but Ben’s completely forgotten about it all, head pressed back into the couch, eyes shut tight in deep pleasure as he lets Callum take him apart.

Quickly, since he has Ben at his mercy, he tugs Ben’s boxers down so he can get access to everything.  With one hand he moves up, sliding beneath Ben’s soft shirt and taking a nipple and squeezing it, pinching and twisting.  

With his other hand he moves to do a trick he discovered, that his hand was big enough to slide his fingertips between Ben’s cheeks to tease his hole while his palm and thumb could rub Ben’s balls.  The first time he did it Ben nearly lost his mind, and the same is true tonight.

“DOn’t stop, Cal, please, fuck, fuck me, shit, fuck, bloody hell!”

Callum laugh around Ben’s cock, glad he’s finally got his entire attention, game long forgotten.  He keeps up everywhere, making sure Ben’s pleasured in every way he can, attacked on all fronts.

“I’m gonna cum, fucking shit, fuck!” Ben’s fingers wrap in Callum’s hair hard, tugging him down on his cock as deep as it’ll go as he unloads with an intense orgasm.  His entire body seems to cave in on itself, freezing up as his legs wrap around Callum’s head and back arches.

Callum swallows him down, taking care to work over his boyfriend with his tongue and fingers through his entire orgasm and afterglow until Ben’s a moaning, boneless mess.

When he’s finally finshed with Ben, at least for the moment, Callum stand sup, pants obscenely tented by his own erection.  He grabs the headset off Ben, puts it on just long enough to hear Jay screaming.

“BEN MITCHELL IF YOU JUST MADE ME LISTEN TO YOU GETTING HEAD FROM YOUR BOYFRIEND AND MY COWORKER IM GOING TO MURDER YOU!”

“Sorry Jay, Ben can’t talk right now,” Callum says, feeling very pleased with himself when Jay shrieks again before he turns the headset and game off.

Ben’s got a soft little dazed smile on his lips and Callum leans in to kiss him silly.

Ben tries to grab Callum’s cock, but he’s completely fucked out already.  

“Don’t worry bout it, I can take care of myself,” Callum says with a smile.

“No...  Need your cock, fuck me...” Ben mumbles.

“You sure, you’re a little-”

“Callum I can barely move...  But if you don’t fuck me I will hold you down and ride you somehow.”

Callum doesn’t need to be told twice, moving in and rimming Ben fast, loving the way his boyfriend mewls and digs his fingers into his hair.  He fishes a pube packet out form beneath the couch cushion because, well, they hid them around the flat because they tend to fuck all over.

Pulling his pants down and off he gives himself a couple strokes before lubing up.  Mentally Ben is there with him, groaning and moaning, but physically he’s limp and wrung out, letting himself be used by Callum.

Callum hooks Ben’s legs over his shoulders and slides in, not wanting to wait any longer, knowing they both need this.  He loves the face Ben still makes every time he enters him, so lost and vulnerable and open.  He shows every expression of how he feels like this, biting his lip hard as the pleasure starts to overwhelm him again.  Ben’s shaking, breath coming in heavy gasps as his chest rises and falls with every thrust.

CAllum makes sure to get Ben’s spot and even though the man just came he’s already hard again. Smirking Callum grabs Ben’s cock with his lubed hand and strokes him fast and dirty, timing it to his thrusts so he’s twisting the head right as his cock glances over Ben’s prostate and Ben tries to scream but his body is so tired it’s near silent.

Callum feels his heavy balls slapping against Ben’s pert ass, he’s so ready to bust.  He gives a few more strokes and thrusts and Ben’s coming, eyes rolling back in his head as he shoots all over his chest and even up to his chin a little.  That drags Callum over the edge, sliding all the way inside his lover and unloading deep.

“Cal, cal calcalcalcalcallum!” Ben whimpers, using the last of his strength to cling to his boyfriend.

Callum had planned on carrying Ben back to bed and cleaning up, but he’s just as exhausted as Ben now and they end up just laying on top of one another on the couch, kissing lazily until they both drift off to sleep.

[beautifulterriblequeen]

Do It For Her: a TDP ficlet

Characters: Callum, Runaan

Rating: Gen

cw: falling, mild reference to PTSD

Summary: Callum and Runaan get thrown together, don’t exactly forgive each other, but decide not to let each other die either

Do It For Her

Callum stared up at the rigid assassin. Runaan glared back at him. The mountain clifftop underfoot lay drenched in the full moon’s light.

Rayla gestured in frustration with her swords. “We don’t have time for this. There’s a fight coming, and we need to be ready. We have to stop—”

With an ominous incoming whistle, Claudia’s dark magic bomb landed mere feet away, interrupting everyone with an ear-piercing blast that hurled them in different directions.

Rayla tumbled and skidded to a stop in some shrubs. Lain and Tiadrin vanished behind the black fire, flung entirely out of sight. But Callum had a great view of the assassin leader spiraling off the cliff into thin air, because he’d been blown off right alongside him.

“Whoa, this is very not good!” he blurted, tumbling through the air.

Below him, Runaan stared up in brief surprise, his ponytail fluttering like a castle banner, blazing white in the night, before he closed his eyes and silently accepted his fate.

Callum had seen that look once before, and it had nearly killed him. In more than one way.

Rayla. She’d never forgive me. Not so soon after she got him back.

Rayla...

Her smile blossomed in his mind’s eye, in his heart, and he felt her name warm his lips even in the wind of his fall. “Rayla…”

“Manus Pluma Volantis!” With the same thrilling tingle as always, Callum’s magewings sprouted and caught the wind, slowing him with their soft brown feathers. He twirled and circled once, getting his bearings, and then he dove after Rayla’s mentor. “Runaan!”

The assassin had begun a slow tumble, but he jerked his head at the sound of his name, and it spun him back to face Callum. His expression was not at all what Callum expected to see: the elf was… afraid. Angry. Bitter, desperate, judgmental. Did he think Callum was diving after him to make sure he didn’t make it?

“Hold onto me,” Callum called, swooping closer. “I can help you land safely!”

Runaan’s eyes raked him from head to toe. One hand flashed out, warning him not to approach further. “No.”

“Runaan! You’ll die!”

“I am already dead.”

“No, you’re not—”

“I have been for a long time.”

“Are you kidding me right now? What about Rayla? What about Ethari?” Callum dived and jinked beneath Runaan and spread his wings. The ground was swiftly approaching, and the pine treetops looked like a rising spiked floor from some kind of deadly trap. Callum glanced over his shoulder as the air lifted him, and his back thumped against Runaan’s, pinning his bowblade between them and slowing the larger man significantly. “Just… let me help you!”

Callum was getting pretty good at aerobatics, but the way the older assassin arched and sprang off of Callum’s back told him that he still had more to learn. He zipped after him with little effort, though, twirling to match the elf’s angled fall.

“Stay away from me,” Runaan grated. “Just let it end.”

“What? No! That’s not what your family wants!”

Runaan’s cold turquoise eyes judged Callum for the words he hadn’t said, though. Despite his affection for Rayla, Callum hadn’t included himself in that group. He could practically hear Runaan’s sentiment amid the whistling wind: It’s what you want, isn’t it, Human?

With a desperate growl, Callum tore his gaze from the fatalistic elf and spotted a shallow mountain lake ahead, tucked into shadow but well within range of their trajectory. “Look, I’m sorry about this, but you can get mad at me later, okay?”

“I told you to—” Runaan began, but Callum flew right into him and knocked him tumbling toward the icy little lake.

Its surface caught the moon’s light oddly, and between his two arcana, Callum realized a sudden truth with perfect clarity. His eyes widened. “Wait, that’s actually ice!”

Runaan’s hands gripped Callum’s shirt. “You fool, what are you—”

“No, no, I got this, I do! Oh man, c’mon, Callum, think!” Callum’s mind zipped in a few panicked directions at once. And then, something Ethari had shown him sprang to mind, mixed with something Lujanne had said once, as well as everything he’d been through with Rayla at the Moon Nexus. “Okay, even I admit this is kind of a long shot but—” He spun rapidly through the night air, dancing the steps he’d memorized at the Moonhenge, dragging an astonished Runaan along with him. His feet trailed streaking moon runes through the air.

“…How…?” Runaan’s grip loosened in shock.

The icy surface rocketed toward them.

“Mors Aperta!” Callum shouted.

The pair splashed down. Heaviness dragged at Callum’s feathers, and he had to release his magewings. Disoriented, he swam hard, striving for safety. He understood swimming better since connecting to the Sky arcanum, but without any air around him at all, none of his instinctive motions were helping him reach the surface very quickly. He felt like Bait, in all the worst ways. His lungs begin to cramp and burn.

A strong hand seized his collar and towed him along like a runaway basket that had fallen from a wagon into a stream. With a firm shove, Callum found himself hefted onto shore. He coughed and gasped, scrambling out and rolling onto his back, grateful for the sensation of air—

The assassin’s silhouette loomed over him. “You’re a bigger fool than I thought.”

Irritated, Callum pushed himself up onto his elbows. “I saved your life. You’re welcome.”

Runaan remained perfectly still. “You really didn’t.”

Callum tipped his head, exasperated. “You’re a real big ray of sunshine, you know that?” But even as the words left his mouth, he realized something had gone very wrong with his plan. His arcana were very quiet. And Runaan wasn’t silhouetted against the moon. He was silhouetted against a sky of candy pink. The moon setting in the distance was black.

“Oh no,” Callum breathed.

“What did you think you were doing?” Runaan demanded.

With a surge of anger, Callum scrambled to his feet. “That ice was going to kill us both because you wouldn’t let me help you! This was the only thing I could think of to save you!”

“Ripping open a portal to the world beyond life and death? That was your great plan?” Runaan scoffed. “You didn’t save us, Callum. You’ve killed us both.”

“No, we’re not dead. Jeez, you really are stubborn. We just need a Moon Phoenix feather, and we can swim right back out of here. And I just so happen to have one.” Callum began patting his pockets for the feather Rayla had left him.

At that, Runaan’s brows shot up, and he visibly reassessed Callum. “You really did jump in after her, didn’t you?”

Callum paused his search and offered Runaan a steady green gaze, edged with impatience. “Twice. And I’d do it again.”

A soft noise in the distance drew Runaan’s attention. In a blink, he’d taken his bowblade from his shoulder, nocked an arrow onto its string, and drawn.

Skysight didn’t work the same way here as it did in the living world, apparently. If it worked at all. Callum couldn’t see anything coming. “What’s out there?” he murmured guardedly, taking a small step closer to the assassin.

Runaan didn’t answer.

Movement—and a lot of it—shuffled in from the treeline ahead. Spirits, dozens and dozens of them, drifted closer. Some walked shoulder to shoulder in formation, others in loose clusters. Some stalked forward alone. They all looked angry. Most of them wore attire Callum recognized from across the five human kingdoms, but there were a handful of elves scattered among them, too. Callum’s heart sank as he remembered what Lujanne had told him about the biggest danger in visiting this place. That people would be pulled to the souls of the dead they shared a connection to, whether that connection was made of love or hate.

He gulped and looked up at the veteran assassin beside him, and his stomach filled with ice. He hadn’t had enough time to think this far ahead in his plan before they crashed down. “Oh no…”

Runaan lowered his arrow. He met Callum’s gaze and offered a tiny nod. The veteran assassin’s myriad targets were finally coming to have a word with him about their deaths.

Callum jerked his eyes back toward the oncoming horde. That was a lot of people. “I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he whispered.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“You’re not going to fight them all, are you?”

“I will if you don’t hurry.”

Callum blinked. “What?”

Runaan tucked his arrow away and split his bowblade into swords. Then he spun his blades flashily and stepped between Callum and the approaching mob, turning his back. Over his shoulder, he said, “Keep looking for your feather. We don’t have much time.”

We. With a fierce grin and a sudden explosion of hope in his chest, Callum began checking his pockets again. “I was afraid you’d just…”

“You did nothing to these people, Callum. Your justice will come later.”

Callum delved into his secret pockets—where was that feather? “But you wouldn’t let me help you before, when we were falling,” he blurted. “What changed your mind?”

Runaan kept his eyes on the approaching spirits. A low rumble of malcontent voices rose like an approaching earthquake, and the spirits broke into a run. The assassin dropped into a ready stance and spun his blades again. “You could’ve flown away before. Now, you’re trapped, and you need my help.”

Callum felt something long and slender deep in a pocket and chased after it with one finger, trying to catch it under his nail. “I get it now. You like to rescue people just like Rayla does.”

Runaan didn’t answer, but he crouched in a way Callum recognized. He’d seen Rayla do that dozens of times. Just before the assassin could leap into battle, Callum seized him by the hood and jumped with as much strength as he could muster, dragging him up into the watery barrier overhead while the phoenix feather remained clenched in his other hand.

Runaan slished and slashed at the foremost spirits for several tense moments as he dangled from Callum’s rising grip, but then he caught up, swimming hard, bowblade in place across one shoulder again. He reached out and seized Callum by the arm, and their eyes met in the dim and turbulent water.

This time, it was Callum’s turn to nod.

[thefancyspin]

Prompt for Ben x Callum - their first night together and Ben realising his feelings for callum and being all soft (smut too if that’s your thing)

(sorry anon I wasn't sure whether you meant the first night they hooked up or the first night they spend together, as in a whole night. so I went with the latter. thank you x)

Ben had to move out of that house. With Lola cursing his every move and Bobby like a spooked horse, Ben could barely walk into a room without feeling like the bogey man.

Besides, with cheap rent and utilities included, Ben would have been stupid to turn down the offer. The landlord knew he was a business man, knew his dad wasn't to be messed with - he probably thought his Christmas had come early.

"You're fucking with me," Jay says when he walks in, peering at the mattress on the bedroom floor.

"Alright, alright," Ben elbows him. "It's a fixer upper."

"It's a burning garbage pile, mate. You got running water?"

"Course I - shut up."

It's really not that bad. The kitchen had been redone recently, and there wasn't any naff wallpaper like a lot of other places he looked at. It was just that it had been hollowed out. And Ben hadn't exactly made an effort to move anything in.

"You're gonna need some feminine touches."

"Fem - I'm a bachelor, what do I want with feminine?"

"To make it look nice. Christ, is that a nest?"

Ben kicked him out not long after that. He didn't care what the little shit said. This was good. His own space, his own privacy - freedom to bring home his hook ups without worrying about them running into Lexi, or his mum.

It only took a week or so to get it nice and clean - to pay someone to do that - and to get the essentials in. He wasn't rushing to get a bed frame, or a table - there was a sofa and a TV, so really he had it made.

It was good. He liked it. He had everything he needed.

Well. Mostly.

"Uh, Jay told me you moved out," Callum says pointlessly when he's standing at Ben's door. He's all hunched and awkward with his hands dug into his pockets - Ben can't help the smile that must flit across his face.

"And here you are," Ben teases. "If I knew that'd make you come runnin' I woulda done it ages ago."

Callum doesn't bite. "I just thought I'd come check the place out."

"Sure. Enter at your own risk."

Callum sidesteps his way in, going to stand in the middle of the kitchen. There's not much to see - he can probably make out everything from where he's standing - so Ben doesn't offer him a tour.

"Would the guest like a drink? Still water? Beer?"

"A beer'd be good, thanks."

"So?" Ben says when he joins Callum on the sofa, holding both their bottles. "Jay told you it was a shit heap, yeah?"

"Something like that."

"Thought you'd come judge it for yourself?"

"No," Callum says with a small shake of his head, nearly choking on his beer. "No, nothing like that. Just thought I'd come see ya, say hi."

"Say hi?" Ben asks, pulling a face. "Last time I saw ya, ya told me to fuck off."

"Yeah, yeah I know."

"So? What's changed? You figure now I'm all alone it'll be easier to get away with it, yeah?"

Callum takes another pull from his bottle. He's flushed but he's not angry. There's no fight in him at all, which is almost disappointing. Ben loves when he stands up for himself, when he fights back. "I think about ya every day."

Ben almost swallows his tongue. "What?"

"I think about ya. About kissing ya. Being with ya. I cant stop."

"Jesus."

"And this ain't some grand fucking gesture, or whatever, okay? I'm not promising nothing. But you're here, in your own place, and Whit's gone out for the night and ... I just wanted to be with ya. I needed to be here."

Ben is almost tempted to lunge on him. The thought of Callum pining for him, missing him - just like Ben had been too. But it was weeks now. Weeks of hearing about wedding plans, weeks of watching Callum run the other way. Weeks of thinking about Callum's hands on him while settling for another random hook up.

He's a big man. A tough guy.

But he's not sure that he's strong enough for that.

"You wanna stay the night?"

"Yes," Callum says, then reaslises just how desperate he sounds. "I mean, I ain't, if you don't - "

"If I don't?" Ben repeats, giving him a snide laugh. "This ain't about me. You made that clear."

"Course it is!" Callum shouts. "You think you're just some bloke I'm experimenting with?"

"Ain't that what you're doing?"

"No. It's you. Maybe it's just you." Ben can see in his eyes he knows that's not true. "I donno. But you're different Ben. You're confident, and kind when it matters, and you'd do anything for Jay, and Lexi. You're so loyal."

Ben can't hold back this time. He kisses Callum half to thank him and half to shut him up - it's both wonderful and awful at the same time. To be seen. To be cared for.

"All night?" Ben says again, clinging on, making sure. "You'll stay..."

"All night," Callum agrees, kissing him again, and letting Ben lead him to the bedroom.

Tomorrow night he'll be all alone, with just the memories of this to keep him warm. Tomorrow, and the next night, and the next, until Callum tips himself over the edge again, and comes crawling back.

Ben hates knowing he'll welcome him into his bed again.

But he will.

His bed, his home, his heart.

[captainjetrocketboy]

I’m Tryna Understand These Days ~ 6

Also on Ao3.

Chapter 6: I Think of It a Thousand Times

Saying Callum was nervous would be a tremendous understatement.

He’s downright terrified of how tonight was going to go.

Convincing Ben to have dinner with him was easier than he thought it would. Sure, he might have looked surprised at first, but he quickly brushed it off and asked if there would be drinks there, too. Seems he was just in it for the free food, and not anything else. 

It can’t be for anything else, though, could it? They were mates after all, and mates don’t treat each other to a nice dinner other than for the fact that only one person was paying. In this case, only one person was paying and cooking.

All signs pointed to this being a date between them. A sort-of date, rather, since Callum thinks he’s alone on that assumption. It was really a spur of the moment decision on his part, suddenly being overcome with the feeling that he should do something—anything!—for Ben.

Especially after their running encounter, in which Callum had stupidly distracted Ben enough for him to fall flat on his face. His heart almost stopped when he thought he heard something crack. And it did when he saw the blood smeared across the other man’s face. He felt absolutely awful, and his offer to take care of the injury was the least he could for Ben.

Thank the stars that the cut wasn’t deep at all. It didn’t take long for him to clean the blood off Ben’s charming face, and he had applied a bit of ointment to help it heal faster. 

And when they had locked eyes, the world seemed to stop turning. Just for a fleeting moment, Callum thought he saw that love again. That burning passion that Ben always showed him flickered through the fog, and Callum was desperate to hold onto that. If that stinking phone never went off, he wonders what they would’ve done about the tension that suddenly appeared between them.

He knows he probably overreacted, but how could he not? He saw the man that he loves get hurt, and it tore what was left of his heart into even smaller pieces. It pained Callum to know that he caused so much pain to Ben, and not just physically, either.

When they were skirting around town, shagging in the back alleyways or behind closed doors, it was made apparent to Callum how euphoric Ben could make him feel. But it was always temporary. Callum had someone—his fiancée, no less—to go home to, leaving Ben in the dust when their time was up. 

It wasn’t fair to anyone. He was lying to Whitney for the longest time about who he was, but he was also denying Ben something that they both wanted. 

Then in the end, everyone was left with nothing that they wanted. Whitney didn’t have Callum as her husband, Ben didn’t have his love for Callum reciprocated, and Callum didn’t have either of them.

If he didn’t regret pushing away his love for that man before, he definitely did now. 

What a fool he was to think he deserved a happy ending. He destroyed the lives of so many people, and he didn’t know how to make any of it right.

But maybe it was a blessing in disguise, Ben losing his memories. Specifically the ones that involved Callum. This could be his chance to start over with him. To do things properly this time. Show Ben that he wasn’t the only one who loved what they had. Ben deserves nothing but the best, and Callum would be condemned to hell before letting him down one more time. 

His thoughts kept stewing in his head as he walked into the parlour, grocery bags in hand. He had just gotten the ingredients for the best meal that he could cook for them. As he passed by Jay, he saw the fellow squint his eyes a bit.

“What’s all that for?”

Callum set the bags down on the nearest table to rest his arms. “Ah, it’s nothing, really. Just for dinner.”

Jay didn’t sound entirely convinced. “Dinner? With what you’ve got, you could probably feed an entirely family.”

Callum let out a sigh. “Yeah, it’s a bit overboard, innit? I just got so excited, I wasn’t exactly sure what to get.”

He saw Jay cross his arms as he took a step forward. “Y’know, I think I’m starting to put the pieces together here.”

He tried to keep his smile, but Callum gulped, unsure of what Jay was suggesting. “W-What’re ya talkin’ about?”

“First, I come into work hearing ya clamour up in your flat, cleaning the place like a madman. Then ya beg me for a day off, scurrying off to Ben for God knows what reason—”

“How’d you know I went to see Ben?” Callum interrupted, his turn to act confused.

Jay only pulled out his phone, his face unreadable. “Cos he’s just messaged me, inviting me to dinner with the two of ya. Says it’s your treat.”

Callum wasn’t surprised that Ben wanted Jay to join. It just showed how close the two of them were, and it made Callum feel happy for them. But what he wasn’t happy about was how Ben ignored his request of this dinner being between just him and Callum. As ridiculous as the thought was, it felt almost like Ben had sensed the date-vibes and promptly tried to avoid that.

“Well… as much as I’d like for ya to be there…” Callum was starting to lose his footing. He wasn’t sure how to explain it all to Jay.

His boss was in his face now, expression dark and voice low. “What are ya playin’ at?”

He didn’t have a response. His throat closed up, blocking any words he had from escaping his mouth. He could only shake his head in denial.

“I ain’t an idiot, Cal.” Jay scoffed, pointing a finger accusingly at Callum’s chest. “You think I don’t know when someone’s tryna shack up with my brother? He’s been with plenty of blokes who’ve done the exact same thing you’re about to do, and they couldn’t leave fast enough after they’ve gotten their fix.”

Callum kept shaking his head. “It ain’t like that, Jay! I swear!”

“Then what is it like then, eh? Ya dump Whitney right before her wedding, and now you’re so desperate for attention that you’re goin’ after Ben? How long until you break his heart, too?”

“I won’t break his heart. I…” Callum couldn’t bring himself to finish his sentence, the final two words failing to come out.

Jay sighed and stepped back, resting a hand on his hip. The other one rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “Look Callum… I like ya, alright? You’re a good bloke, and I don’t care about who ya fancy. But whatever you’re doin’ with Ben… I just want ya to be careful. He’s been through enough.”

Callum nodded slowly. “I know, Jay. I promise ya I’ll be careful with Ben. But… thank you. For understandin’. I’ll explain later, okay?”

Jay let one of his hands squeeze Callum’s shoulder. “You can tell me when you’re ready, Cal. We’re mates, and I’ll support ya with whatever you’re goin’ through.”

They shared a glance, Jay’s encouragement making him grin, if only a little.

“Thanks again, Jay. I’ve made a mess of a lot of things, but I want to do this right.” Whatever ‘this’ was between him and Ben, he wasn’t going to turn back now.

“Good on you, mate. Now get up there and get cookin’ before the food spoils.” Jay teased as he too gave a small smile.

Callum laughed along, and picked the bags of ingredients back up, making way for the stairs. He didn’t make it past the first step before he heard Jay shout.

“But hey! If ya do anythin’ to upset him, you’ll be the next stiff we take care of!”

“Never!” Callum yelled back. For once in his life, what he said was the absolute truth. 

He never wants to upset Ben ever again.

- - -

His nerves started to act up again when he heard a knock on the door.

Well, he was already a wreck before it even came close to the time Ben said he’d come over. He had made a tiny mistake with the recipe, and he thought his head might explode as he checked and rechecked over the steps to find where he went wrong. 

It the end, the food turned out fine. He just hopes Ben enjoys homemade lasagna. Who doesn’t, right? Leagues better than the frozen stuff at the Minute Mart, that’s for sure.

Then he spilled some of the sauce on the front of his white dress shirt, and a bit on his trousers. Callum made sure all the kitchen appliances were turned off before he scuffled to his dresser. He knows this is supposed to be a casual hang out, but he can’t help himself. He replaced his top with a light blue button-down, which he tucked into his new khaki slacks. He did without the blazer, even though he really wanted to put it on. 

If someone said he was dressing to impress, Callum wouldn’t deny the accusation. Yes, he was putting on something nice for Ben. Did it have to mean anything? No. Except, it did mean a lot to Callum. A whole lot.

So when another incessant knock rattled the door, Callum briskly found the nearest mirror to run a hand through his hair one more time. He had to make sure he was presentable, at the least.

Finally, he approached the door that was threatening to come off its hinges with Ben’s pounding. He took in a deep breath—and two or three more, just to be safe—before letting the other man inside.

They greeted each other, and Callum could swear that Ben was getting more beautiful as the days went by. Seems that he wasn’t the only one who tried to dress nice. Beneath his leather jacket, Ben wore that deep red polo shirt with the black and white collar that complimented his body very well. It’s one of his typical outfits, sure, but Callum loves every single one of them, so he sees no problem there.

He jokingly scolded Ben for arriving five minutes later than they agreed. He put on his best angry face, but it quickly made way for an amused one when Ben tried excusing himself. Something about being ‘fashionably late’. Callum just laughed at Ben’s explanation of it as he set up the table.

Dinner started off without a hitch, and Callum couldn’t be more glad. No food dropped to the floor, no drinks spilled, and their clothes were spotless.

They didn’t stop talking for a second. The conversation flowed like peaceful waves at the beach, them moving from topic to topic with ease. There was always something to talk about with Ben, and Callum relished in it. He didn’t have to put effort into the typical conversation starters, because he could say just about anything to Ben and they’d have a full-blown discussion about it. Didn’t matter if it was something that happened at work, or the latest gossip in town. Ben listened to Callum, and he listened intently to Ben. 

When the plates were cleared, Callum went to wash them off as Ben sat back in his chair, sipping on the wine they had taken out.

“That was delicious, Cal. You’re one hell of a cook.” Ben praised.

Callum smiled at the compliment. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of hearing a happy Ben, because it made him just as happy. “It’s nothin’, really. But thank you.”

“Nothing? I beg to differ, good sir. You could probably sign-up for one of them cooking competitions.” Ben announced from where he was resting his legs on an adjacent chair.

“I suppose I could.” Callum replied with a chuckle. “I’ll blow the judges away with my five-star lasagna.”

Callum never had enough confidence to brag about himself like that. He supposes Ben just helps bring that part out for them, and only them, to see.

When the dishes were clean and left to dry, they moved the conversation to the living room. Ben brought the wine bottle and glasses over, too, setting them down on the coffee table. Callum was nursing his drink as he was engaged in some story Ben had.

“He was terrible at it, too. The bloke probably couldn’t screw in a bolt right, so I bet you can imagine how he was in bed.”

Despite the topic hitting a still-sore spot, Callum didn’t find himself minding. It was probably the wine weakening his inhibitions. He just got so lost in Ben’s presence that he forgot to keep track of how much he’s had.

So he giggled along with Ben, feeling like a bit like a schoolboy chasing after their crush. “He don’t know what he’s missin’. Joke’s on him, really.”

“That’s what I’m sayin’!” Ben was leaning back in the cushions, looking comfortable as he drank from his glass, as well. The rosy tint in his cheeks suggested he was getting a bit drunk alongside Callum.

“Seriously, anybody would be lucky if they were with ya. He’s a downright fool for leaving ya like that.”

Ben still laughed, but it didn’t quite sound the same. It was more hollow than the ones that came before.

“Now that’s the joke of the day.” He said, eyes downturned to the red liquid in his hand.

Callum caught on, and he regretted bringing this up again. But Ben had to know that he was worthy of affection, no matter who it came from. “Hey, I ain’t joking. You’re special, Ben. I know you are.”

Ben slowly shook his head in disagreement. “I appreciate that, but it don’t feel like it lately. It’s always been about cheap sex. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy a bit of fun every now and then. But I… I kinda want somethin’ more, y’know?”

Callum didn’t take his eyes off Ben. “Yeah… I know.”

Ben lifted his head up, a curious expression lining his features. “Have you ever been in love, Cal?”

There wasn’t any malice or accusation in his tone. It was pure curiosity, and Callum couldn’t bring himself to lie to Ben. Not like this. 

“I… I have.”

“How’d ya figure it out?” Ben sat up slightly, placing his now empty glass back onto the table.

“That’s a tough question to answer,” Callum started, running through his head how he could possibly explain his love when the man was unknowingly right in front of him. “I think I knew when…”

Ben’s gaze was digging into Callum’s soul. He was staring at him, waiting for his response and wanting to know more. Those blue oceans were almost taunting him, he thought.

“...When I wasn’t afraid of who I was. The person I loved—still love—helped me find the real me. He saw me, and I saw him.”

The corner of Ben’s mouth turned upward. “Sounds like a nice bloke. This the same guy who helped ya come out?”

Callum nodded. “Yeah. That was him.”

“What happened, though? Are ya still together? Ya don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

A sigh escaped Callum as he leaned forward, his arms flush with Ben’s. “We… never got the chance to get together before he… left. I still regret what I put him through… so when ya find that one person you love, don’t let go, alright?”

“Right…” Ben quietly responded. He started to play with the ring on his finger. “I’m really sorry about him, Cal. Whatever happened, I’m sure he knew ya loved him, too.”

Callum’s eyes met Ben’s, and the feeling that washed over him was almost too intense. He loves this man so, so much. He just wishes he got the chance to say it to him personally. Ben had told him that he loved him, so why couldn’t he say it back? He hates to think it, but that night when they argued… it must’ve been the same night he thought Callum didn’t love him back. And that couldn’t be further from the truth.

The next moments happened too quickly and too slowly at the same time. Callum wasn’t sure what came over him, but seeing Ben so… emotional and supportive with him was the last straw. He couldn’t keep up this act anymore. His gaze shifted down to those precious lips, and Callum knew he can’t just be mates with Ben. Not any longer.

Callum went for it, closing his eyes as he kissed Ben.

He was overcome with relief, pain, love, and so much more. He was careful not to move too fast, reverently pressing his lips against the other man. It felt right finally succumbing to his desires. If he tried hard enough, he could pretend that nothing had changed. He almost felt Ben lean into it, as well.

But the moment didn’t last long. Ben pushed against Callum’s chest as they were forced to separate. He had an exasperated look on his face.

“What… What was that for?”

“I… I’m not sure…”

Ben was standing now, his hands on his hips. “Look, I’m all up for a shag as much as the next guy, but we’re mates, Cal. I thought that was what you wanted us to be?”

Callum stood too. “I never said that was what I wanted!”

“Then what the hell was that just now? Especially when we were just talking ‘bout our failed love lives!” Ben’s voice was raised as he spoke. He seemed to have sobered up after their kiss, his happy expression nowhere to be found.

“I just… I just don’t understand how you could look me straight in the eyes and not remember…” Callum shouldn’t have said that. He’s let out too much, and it won’t be long before Ben picks up on it.

“Remember what, Cal?! Is there something else I should know about ya?” Ben was flailing his arms at his sides, motioning between the chasm of space between them. “Or… is there something ya wanna say about us?”

Callum couldn’t meet Ben’s glare. He looked down at his shoes, the glasses on the coffee table… anywhere that wasn’t Ben. He’s messed up again… and he doesn’t know where to start to make it better.

“So c’mon. Tell me, yeah? Were we ever more than just mates?”

[ironbellies-blog]

COG THOUGHTS Let me begin this with the fact I went in knowing every major spoiler. You would think this would hurt the watching process but it had the opposite effect-- I was actually pretty well prepared and was thus not caught off guard by certain reveals and could pay attention to scenes I would have otherwise been very ???? about (not to say I wasn’t still very ????? about them but I at least expected them). For me COG was... a mess. Not bad but not grand either. It took me ages to suss out why I felt kind of “meh” about the movie. I ranted for hours at @gigglewcter last night a bout it and eventually came to the conclusion with another friend my opinion is this: The adventures of Newt and friends and having heartache for Leta was great! Everything else was a total blur that I could live without. For quite a few reasons. So the rest of this will be behind the cut. SPOILERS WILL BE THERE DON'T CLICK UNLESS YOU WANT THEM.

We’ll talk about pacing first. There’s a few different storylines going on her: Newt vs the world, Jacob looking for Queenie, Queenie looking for Tina and subsequently her alliance with Grindelwald, Yusuf looking for Credence, Leta being confused about everyone’s talk, Theseus... well he’s just kinda confused and looking for Newt, Credence looking for who he is, and finally Tina just kinda doing her investigative work. Many of these stories eventually overlap and connect but it’s not until about the last 30-45 minutes of the film that they all come together. So there are points where we get scenes that are kind of good for the plot but could also be entirely written out for the audience to get the picture. At points it feels rushed and at other points it simply feels like there’s too much they’re trying to give at once. The only one who feels like they have a complete storyline to me in this film was Leta and even that was so minimal compared to Newt. And Newt, well, he’s Newt and the whole point for this film and him was finding Tina and eventually choosing a side (both of which he does). Acting was also, honestly, hit or miss for me. It was really difficult to watch Queenie scenes for me and I’m not entirely sure if it was just my feeings for the scene or the way things were done. But I also wasn’t thrilled with Callum either. For the most part everyone seemed to do a lot better, even Katherine who-- while I love-- had some hit or miss scenes in the first. No one will be calling her a “Wet actress” in this film (we don’t even see her tear up when Queenie ultimately goes to Grindelwald’s side). Now let’s talk characters and plot devices: The first one I’m going to hit up on is the Queenie storyline because I’m sorry but Jacob was on a fucking date rape drug and people who stan her need to back the fuck up. Like I get it we want her to be precious and lively but--- we do not know everything about this character. There were hints of her manipulative behavior in the first movie. She had a problem with not saying no before and not letting people speak for themselves. And I DO  get that she sometimes can’t control her powers but it does not make it acceptable what she did. JACOB should have been the one to be mad about this whole thing and should have been ALLOWED to be mad that she did it. This is an issue that’s never confronted but between Jacob and Queenie and it’s honestly-- It’s not a light topic. Jacob doesn’t even know he’s in London. No idea where he is, can’t hold a glass of water, anything. And just seems to stumble over this idea he’s engaged. And he is honestly angry when Newt breaks the enchantment. But Queenie runs off because he thinks that she’s crazy in the heat of the moment when she completely dismissed his consent on a matter and took him across sea. And then when they reunite acts sugary sweet and tries to convince him to go with Grindelwald whom HE JUST LISTENED TO talk about him as if he was some kind of lowly animal. She’s mad about it like-- I want to defend Queenie the best relationship-- not ship-- to me is Tina and Queenie. I really want to root for a good sisterly bond but if we’re being honest there was problems in that relationship from the beginning. And Queenie is creepily possessive over this idea of a perfect relationship with Jacob because it’s ~love~ and Jacob is trying to be realistic and protective and she’s not having any of it-- It’s. Honestly. It’s gross and cringy and the fact that Jacob is the one spending the film looking for her to make things right makes me upset. I honestly cannot feel bad for Queenie in this film-- She is absolutely playing the “sickenly sweet” card and it’s fake. Its’s just such an odd feeling when she’s on the screen. And the only time I felt any real empathy for her is when she’s on the streets with everyone’s voices in her head. As for her going for Grindelwald-- This was pretty much anticipated for me from the first promo. And it went down just like I expected it to in that Grindelwald convinces her because ~love~. What I’m most mad about here is that we don’t get a single sister scene in this film. We don’t even get Tina’s reaction to her sister just leaving Jacob’s side to join him. We get a rushed, “Queenie!” while she’s running but it’s Jacob who gets this look of desperation (if FB was Jacob’s bad day FB2 is basically Jacob’s very, very, bad no good day”). Grindelwald.... Is another character I’m kind of... I can’t really explain my feelings for him because it’s difficult to itterate. As a person who studied Hitler’s Regime extensively and the Holocaust and has close friends who are Jewish (and is a Jewish conversion student themselves the Hitler parallels are very, very real. Grindelwald has the same tactics that Hitler does in showing a public face and a private face and only unveiling half of his true meaning to the people. The fact we see brief clippings of the Atomic Bomb and concentration camps is very quick but it’s not seeing them that’s difficult-- It’s listening to Grindelwald spout words that Hitler used. The no-majs are an other, they’re problematic, and we need to stop them before the destroy everything for us (and behind doors it’s genocide). Telling people who are standing up against him if they don’t join they will die. It’s... It’s very hard to watch and does not make the movie enjoyable. There are moments in the film where I just felt like I stared kind of blankly and I know that it’s because for me I saw what was meant to be there... And that others will go in and think that Grindelwald is just another super bad villain. And he is, he kills without blinking and his followers know what to do without him saying anything to him. He has people under his thumb and it’s just so real and there it’s kind of heartbreaking. With Grindelwald and his subplot we begin to see the plot that I’ve always feared and it’s Rowling handling WWII and the Holocaust. And yes, I’m glad that as a historian I could see the monikerings but honestly I do not want her to touch this specific topic because it shouldn’t be romanticized for  a fantasy story. Full stop. Moving on to Tina. I’m neither displeased or pleased with her presence and I say this as a person who was REALLY just there for Tina/Newt/Jacob/Leta in the end and want more rompy adventures. I was incredibly leery on Tina in this movie because the Newtina angle was super pressed by all sides and Kath had a habit of talking about how much ~newt hurt her~ and the whole thing about the American papers writing Newt was engaged to Leta came out... And I kind of groaned because, well, I’m sorry not talking to Newt over jealousy is a really dumb shitty stupid thing and I was gonna be mad if that was the reason. It was a part of the reason they had a falling out but the more prominent one was that in their letters something heated happened and... Newt essentially called Aurors (and thus her) murderers and Tina took offense to that. Reasonably. And with letters taking a long time we know how that can be-- So they didn’t sort it out until they meet up again. Tina is very hard towards Newt because of this and I know for a lot of people this is gonna make her seem awful. And honestly even to me it’s kind of eye-rolly at times but it is what it is. She’s in the movie enough but her role feels, overall unimportant, because everyone is there for the same reason (Credence, except Newt who only came over for Tina).  But since we ‘re talking about Tina I will say that her moments with Newt are very nice. I speak from a shipper’s prospective but not the lens-- I see this because it’s very obvious they care about each other and Newt is more openly ready to spout his feelings for her (he calls her beautiful to Yusuf, shows her the picture and tries to express how he feels about her). Tina’s still hurt but she does soften around him when they actually talk and appear amused and understand him.  I think these moments are important because it’s about them reconnecting and for this pair that’s what the movie is about-- Finding each other and reconnecting. Neither one of them actually truly have an impact on the mainplot... Which is Credence finding who he is. LIKE DON’T GET ME WRONG. I  love Newt/Tina/Etc but if you cut out their subplot in it eventually everything that happened would have happened. Because this entire movie was staged by Grindelwald. He wanted Tina and Newt present at his rally, but they didn’t actually influence the main plot at all. Which is kind of honestly sad because frankly I’m not there for Credence. I know fandom loves Credence but honestly the sexualizing of him turned me off ages ago... I do think he has his importance and I honestly feel this movie was built to make him the main character in the next movies... But I’m not moved by him. Do I feel bad he’s abused? Absolutely. Do I think he deserved anything he got? No. But Credence is violent and yes we can go “it’s the Obscurus” but he openly abandons the one person who befriended him and tried to help him, who told him he was something more than he was born... And he  did it because “that man knows who I am”. He’s so focused on an identity that he ignores the people who genuinely care and what to look out for him. For me his reveal as a Dumbledore was as shocking to me as everyone else, but I’m not impressed with it. From what Dumbledore says early in the film it’s guaranteed Credence will eventually die so thee’s that. But it just feels like a plot that is rather unnecessary and honestly if Credence is gonna play a major role in this series it’s odd that he was outright ignored in HP in any historical context. But it’s... Whatever there to me, honestly, that storyline will continue and it will be what it will. I think these are most of my complaints with the movie and honestly the things I liked I really enjoyed-- Leta’s story was heart wrenching, Jacob being the wingman was great and fun as hell, Newt trying not to tell Tina she had salamander eyes made me giggle, and Newt telling Dumbledore off was the greatest thing since sliced butter but... I’m disappointed in how they treated Nagini. Kind of meh about the main plot. Absolutely hate Queenie Goldstein right now. While I respect the way in which Leta died I also just hate it? But I mean they killed a lot of nameless people in this film guess they had to balance it. Seraphina cutting off “Grindelwald”’s tongue was savage as fuck and I’m there for that. The tonal change was expected but definitey a ride... And mmm I just wanna go back to the campy adventures of Newt and co?