#i can't believe i actually wrote this

[lukaherehelp]

*gets back on stage* Thank you, thank you, glad to be back on stage! *preps the mic*

ehem... So about this: let me explain it to the babies in this hellsite that still are too new to a/b/o - omegaverse dynamics.

You have probably seeing our favorite alpha4alpha duo going at each others necks like their lifes depend on it.

And even in their case this gesture is important due to, you guessed it: scent.

Yet, if you go through all their makeouts and nc scenes, there's no bite to be seeing. And that's because there's no use to it in their case. Let me explain why:

This whole gesture turns into a much intricate dynamic when we are talking about an alpha4omega relationship.

The neck is really significant in this "setting" due to the existence of "scent glands". Is basically an exaggeration on how, even in "normal humans", any type of smell is more powerful on the neck area due to the pulsing and warmth of blood, which helps the skin to maintain a smell for much longer. That's why we usually wear perfume on our necks. or why vampires always go to the neck but wrong bl to talk about that.

Now, onto this "scent glands": is what gives away the subgender of anyone just by one sniff. They are the reason why Babe got really happy after those couple of sniffs onto Charlie's neck.

But in their case, that's about as much use as they have. "You smell nice!", that's it.

With our favorite alpha4omega, AlanJeff and you can also attribute this to SonicNorth btw 👀, this area can take a much more importance. Why? Because of marking.

"Marking" in omegaverse is when an alpha "claims" an omega: is a deep bite to the neck area where the scent glands are located. Once an alpha marks an omega, the omega can mark that same alpha back, also claiming it. After you get marked, that's it, you are forever partnered unless one of them dies or the bond is somehow broken but let's not think about it now. Your scent even changes, letting everyone around you know not only that you have being marked, but also whom you belong to.

Now that you know this, my post saying that we are one little step away from this to happen is more clear: because y'all can't tell me that THIS:

isn't the face of an omega whoms being more than ready to be marked and claimed. Jeff has wanted this old man's teeth sunken on his neck since two lifetimes ago.

Because when this little shit said "I can't see anything when you touch me" is pure bullshit! I know, Jefferson, that by this point:

You already knew a bathroom nailing session was bound to happened and I'm trying to not going insane about the position of their heads, I BETTER SEE A BITE MARK DURING THE BATHTUB SCEEN AFTERWARDS.

YOU AIN'T SLICK hehe, JEFFREY, AND NEITHER IS ALAN. My old man is losing his mind for a reason, never instinct has hit him harder than now. Ma boi is ready to take the responsibility and the opportunity cannot come faster for the both of them.

So yeah, that's it. Nothing else to add.

GIVE US THE MARKING, YOU BRAVE COWARDS!!

*runs off stage*

[janetbrown711]

Melatonin

Louie can't sleep after an adventure gone wrong, his mother's words echoing in his head like the worst worst record, and so he seeks solace with his dear old Uncle Donald.

Ao3 Link

Louie was tired, which wasn’t surprising for 2:17 in the morning. It had also been a long, long day of adventuring and he had been grateful when he finally was able to throw himself on his bunk bed.

Unfortunately though, Louie couldn’t sleep.

His back and legs ached something fierce from all of the above-average amounts of running and walking and climbing he had to do, and there was this weight on his chest that caused his heart to pound, keeping his eyes and mind on alert.

Insomnia was nothing new for the youngest duck brother, of course, but that didn’t make it any less annoying (especially with Dewey’s tendency to snore). He’d normally just go on his phone and scroll through social media until his eyes decided to close, but it didn’t feel right tonight. No, his feed was too full of Webby and Dewey’s photos of their adventure. Photos of Scrooge, Huey, and Della were on every post, with Louie having to swipe through to find any with him in them.

That wasn’t their fault though, Louie really hadn’t been in the mood today for hiking mountains and fighting bears and bear-like monsters to find some mystic honey stirrer. The photos of him were blurry and embarrassing, unlike the usual where he’d at least pose with the treasure or he and Webby had some kind of fun side quest.

A chill ran through Louie that made him sit up and sigh, rubbing the bandages around one of his hands as he tried to think of what to do.

He could go to the kitchen and if Duckworth wasn’t too busy ghost-sleeping, he could make him some tea..? No, no, Louie hated tea more than Scrooge hated to waste it. Something else then… like watching YouTube? No, his feed was overrun with videos about Doofus Drake and Scrooge McDuck sightings and hustler videos that Louie really didn’t have an interest in (at least… not right now). He could try counting sheep, but– but there was something else on his mind playing on repeat instead.

“C’mon Louie, it’s just one more mile, don’t get lazy on me now.” His mother smiled at him, hands on her hips and a bouncy energy that just made him even more tired by the second.

“Yeah, Louie! C’mon, it’ll be totally cool to see the top of the mountain,” Huey encouraged too.

“If I don’t die before then,” Louie panted, leaning back against a tree.

Della tsked and rolled her eyes. “You sound just like your uncle, you know that?”

Louie perked up at that, but before he could say anything, Dewey punched him in the arm as he and Webby sped by.

“See ya later, slowpokes!” he called out mockingly as Webby made a face.

“Hey! We’re supposed to be on the lookout for bears, you two!” Della laughed and hurried to go join them.

“Hey–! Wait for us!” Huey shouted and started scurrying off too, and Louie had no choice but to follow.

…Louie didn’t know why his mind was focusing on it– it wasn’t a big deal, really. They all made it eventually, even if Louie missed the “big reveal” and family photo op. They had hundreds of those, Louie being gone from one or two or however many at this point wasn’t a big deal. He was the lazy one, after all. Consequences, simple as that.

“If you want to be part of this family, you got to–”

Louie shot up and out of bed, startled by his own memory as the pounding in his chest only increased.

“It’s just a stupid memory, Louie. Just shut up and go back to sleep,” he muttered to himself before checking if he’d awoken his brothers. Thankfully, the answer was no, so Louie was left to… well, as much as he wanted to, he was in no condition to go back to bed. He was still stuck in “fight or flight” mode, so he needed to walk around– maybe to find some melatonin.

As good as that sounded though, he knew the numerous bathrooms barely even had toilet paper, much less medications due to how stingy Scrooge was. If there was melatonin to be found, it probably expired in 1986 and probably had a nightmare shadow creature trapped inside for extra measure.

Then again, Uncle Donald always kept his melatonin and other vitamins stocked, so maybe Louie could just go to the houseboat to check? Hopefully he could do so without waking his uncle, but if he caught him, it wasn’t like he’d get in trouble.

Louie bit his cheek, finding his phone and unplugging it to check the time, annoyed but not surprised it had only been two minutes. With a sigh, Louie put his phone in his pajama pocket, and quietly crept out of his room into the halls of the manor.

Nights like these always made the mansion feel haunted– more than by Duckworth, anyways. His uncle was crazy old and so was his choice in curtains and decoration. While Duckworth and Beakley kept dust away, the moonlight had this uncanny way of pointing out every crack and crevice that was previously unknown. Plus, the quiet made the creaking wood and pipes a lot more noticeable, and with Louie, being in the state that he was, picked up the pace to avoid it as much as possible.

Thankfully, the courtyard wasn’t too hard to get to and soon, Louie was back sneaking his way on the houseboat like it was nothing.

While it took a second to get used to, the familiar sway and creaking of the houseboat was comforting for the young duck, and he couldn’t help but smile as he made his way to the bathroom’s medicine cabinet for raiding.

In there, he found a half empty bottle of aspirin, a thing of tums, an empty paper cup, some mouthwash, but no sign of any melatonin.

“Well… frick,” Louie muttered to himself, closing the mirror and nearly jumping out of his skin when he heard footsteps just outside.

“Hello?” called out the tired and scratchy voice of Louie’s uncle.

Busted.

“Sorry, Uncle Dee, I was just looking for some melatonin to nab.” Louie’s face was red as he flicked the light off and stepped out to the small hallway.

His uncle smiled pitifully at him. “Can’t sleep?”

Louie shook his head.

“I keep that in my room now since you three moved out.” Donald chuckled. “I can grab it for you, and I can make some tea too, if you’d like.”

Louie bit his cheek. It was getting late, but as much as Louie wanted to just take the melatonin and hope his feelings would just drown out, he couldn’t deny having a cup of sleepytime tea with his uncle would help.

“Yeah, sure, why not?” Louie gave a crooked little smile, which made his uncle chuckle again and ruffle his hair before going to the kitchen. Louie followed, sliding into the circular booth and watching as his uncle pulled out the dented old kettle and filled it with water.

“Have you gotten any sleep at all?” his uncle asked, watching it fill.

Louie shook his head. “No, not really… I’m more surprised you’re awake though, I really thought it would be an easy in-and-out.”

“You’d be surprised how raising triplets and being ex-navy can affect how light you sleep.” His uncle winked and turned the water off.

Louie snorted. “I think Mom could sleep through a bombing.”

“Yeah, that’s Della all right.” Donald’s voice wavered a bit, though he quickly turned to muttering in frustration as it took a second before his stove would light. It eventually did, and once that was all settled he sighed and leaned against the counter. “So what’s keeping you up this time, Lou?”

“Oh, you know… adventure stuff, I guess,” Louie danced around the details, picking at the bandage on his hand.

His uncle’s eyes landed on it, and based on his reaction, it seemed he hadn’t noticed his injury at dinner. “Are you okay? What happened? Did Huey or Webby do the bandaging? Or was it Dewey? Not that he does a bad job, he just always forgets the Neosporin–”

“It’s fine, it’s fine, Uncle Dee– really,” Louie forced a smile. “It’s just a minor scrape, I promise.”

“You know, I’ve always told Scrooge you boys need better gloves and gear just so situations like this don’t happen.” Donald shook his head and left the kitchen, muttering under his breath the whole time.

Welp. Better than a scolding to stay safer, Louie thought to himself as he closed his eyes for a second.

When he opened them again, his uncle was back with a first aid kit and a bottle of melatonin.

“Here, let me look at it,” Donald asked, taking a seat next to Louie.

“It’s fine, Uncle Donald,” Louie tried to assure him, but his uncle didn’t relent, taking his hand and quickly unwrapping the bandage.

His uncle frowned, inspecting it. “This doesn’t look like a regular scrape. What happened?”

“It was just a sharp rock, I swear.” Louie looked away to try and mask the lie.

Donald didn’t seem to believe it, but focused his efforts more on adding some neosporin to his cut before finding a suitable gauze pad, bringing Louie momentarily relief.

“Who wrapped this the first time? And how long was it between hurting yourself and getting bandaged?” Donald interrogated.

“Dewey when we got back to the plane, I guess– it’s really not a big deal, Uncle Donald, I’m fine,” Louie tried to push, but he could see Donald’s eye twitch.

“No one had a first aid kit? Not even Huey?” Donald asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“He ran out using it on Webby and Dewey and Launchpad.” Louie shrugged. “Seemed only fair to let them have it this time anyways, since I’m usually the one taking all the supplies.”

Donald frowned, now taking the roller bandage and wrapping his wrist twice before going diagonally to the outside of his pinky. “I don’t like you thinking like that; your safety and health matters just as much as anyone else’s– even if you’ve got worse luck and tire out quicker.”

“Sure,” Louie sighed, looking at the kettle and seeing the steam starting to escape, a squeal imminent.

“I’m serious, Louie. I don’t want you talking like that. You deserve as much love and care as anyone else.” His uncle looked at him seriously, but the ten-year-old avoided eye contact.

Donald frowned, finishing the bandaging just as the kettle began to squeal and put a brief pause to go deal with that.

“If you want a place in this family–”

Stop. Just stop, Louie hissed in his mind. He hated that stupid video and that stupid memory. It was so long ago, there really wasn’t a point for it to be on repeat like it was. Yeah, his mom joked that if he hadn’t been so clumsy on the last adventure then Huey wouldn’t have ran out of bandages, but like… that was different. Louie was fine. It was fine. It was cool.

“So are you going to actually tell me how you hurt yourself, or are you going to keep me guessing all night?” Donald sighed, pouring the hot water into two mugs.

“It was a sharp rock, I promise.” Louie bit his cheek.

“Right.” His uncle’s shoulders sagged, before he shook his head and set the kettle down. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. Adventures are hard sometimes, I get it– plus, I know I can be a little protective–”

Louie laughed.

Donald rolled his eyes. “Okay, maybe more than a little protective, but you know… someone’s gotta.”

Louie’s smile faded and his eyes went back to his hands.

His uncle hummed in amusement as he got the tea bags and began brewing before returning with mugs in hand to the booth. “I’m sorry today was rough. I wish I could’ve been there.”

Louie waved his hand. “You would’ve gotten hurt a lot more than me.”

“Yeah, but at least Della knows to carry three extra kits whenever I’m around,” Donald laughed, and a lump formed in Louie’s throat.

“Right, yeah.” Louie tried to ignore it, tapping his fingers on the glass as he urged the tea to brew faster.

When it was done, he could feel his uncle's eyes on him as he took a sip of tea, searching and scanning like they had many times before. It was how he eventually learned to detect Louie's schemes, and it never failed to make Louie feel small.

To his surprise though, instead of saying anything, Donald wrapped an arm around Louie and pulled him to his side, kissing his head and hugging him tight. It made the lump tighten and tears threaten to form, the pressure building so tight Louie might just burst.

“I love you, Louie. You know that?” his uncle whispered.

Louie could only nod.

“I love you very, very much, Lou. I care about your health and safety, and I want you to be happy more than anything else in the whole wide world, do you understand?” Donald continued.

Louie nodded again, his lower lip beginning to tremble.

His uncle hugged him tighter. “Louie, I want you to tell me what’s hurting you. You don’t have to give details– but know that nothing is too much for me, okay? I want to help you… please…”

The ‘please’ shattered Louie’s resolve. He opened his mouth to speak maybe three times, before he eventually croaked it out:

“Why… doesn’t mom… like me..?”

Donald let out a quiet gasp, filling Louie with instant regret that broke him down into a sobbing mess in an instant.

“Oh, Louie.” His uncle pulled Louie onto his lap now, hugging him tight as he rocked back and forth while the ten-year-old just buried his face in his chest.

“S-sh-she– It-it’s like– She likes H-Huey, a-and Dewey, a-and even Webby– b-but– b-but–”

“I’m so sorry, honey.” Donald hugged him a little tighter, and Louie could tell he was crying too.

“I-I keep screwing u-up– a-and it’s like– i-it’s like she ca-can’t even tell a-and she just– she hates me, Unca’ Donald, she hates me,” Louie wept.

“Della doesn’t hate you, Louie, she just doesn’t understand, I promise,” Donald tried to assure, but Louie just shook his head.

“Sh-she keeps– she keeps calling me lazy a-and she makes fun of me wh-when I fail a-and even get hurt– it hurts so much, Unca’ Donald, it hurts so much,” Louie confessed, a wave of sorrow crashing down with the realization.

“I’m so sorry, Lou…” his uncle’s voice cracked. “I wish she didn’t. I really, really wish she didn’t– but old habits die hard, I’m so sorry.”

It took Louie a moment to process what his uncle said, and when he did, he sat up a bit. “Y-you mean she does that to you too?”

Donald nodded with a sad smile. “Everyone does, but Del and Scrooge especially. I used to joke that’s the only reason they kept me around.”

Louie’s heart managed to break a second time and he practically leapt to hug his uncle. “M’so sorry, I-I never meant to– I just– I’m so sorry, Uncle Donald.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, Lou. I’ve learned to accept it.” Donald rubbed his back.

“But you shouldn’t have to! I-it sucks– I hate being just a joke to them, a-and you’re so much more than that too!” Louie broke the embrace again.

“Louie, you aren’t a joke to them, I promise. You have that wonderful mind of yours that’s always so good at planning and scheming and escaping and they value that tremendously.” Donald put his hands on Louie’s shoulders.

Louie looked at the ground. “Even mom..?”

Donald gave a long sigh. “Your mom is… new to this. She doesn’t understand how you work yet and assumes you won’t take it personally, like how I would act– but that doesn’t make it right. She loves you, but she just doesn’t know how to, and I’m sorry that hurts you…”

Louie looked away, his mom’s words echoing again in his mind.

“If you want to be a part of this family, you gotta stop.”

“She… she said if I wanted to be a part of this family, I had to stop scheming– had to stop the one thing I’m good at,” Louie whispered.

He could see his uncle’s shoulders tense. “When did she say that..?”

“When you were gone after the ‘timephoon incident’.” Louie sniffled, wiping away hot tears as he stared at his mug.

Donald gave another long, heavy sigh. “I’m so sorry, Louie. I wish she understood you, I really, really do…”

“Sh-she also– I hurt my hand because she didn’t see me slipping. She didn’t help me– sh-she assumed I’d be okay, but I’m not okay– it’s not okay, Uncle Donald, it’s not.” Louie shook his head and curled up to Donald’s side, and his uncle wrapped an arm around him.

“I’m so sorry, Lou. Della just gets so wrapped up in her own head, she has a hard time recognizing people aren’t always at her level.” Donald rested his head atop Louie’s and squeezed him.

“I-I felt so alone today– I hate feeling alone,” Louie confessed more.

“I know, Louie, I know. And if it helps, you’ll always have me no matter what, okay? There’s nothing you could do to make me hate or leave you. You’ll always be my little Louie, and even if we get separated, I’ll always find my way back– even if it’s the moon,” Donald pointed out with a soft smile.

“Thanks, Uncle Donald.” Louie nuzzled closer. “I wish mom understood you too.”

His uncle laughed weakly. “Maybe one day… but in the meantime, I’m lucky to have you.”

Louie couldn’t help but laugh a little too. “I’m lucky to have you too, Uncle Donald.”

The pair of them sat in silence for a while, with Louie curled extra tight to his side and Donald holding him nice and close. It was calming, especially with the slow eb and flow of the pool water. All that crying had exhausted Louie, and he figured his uncle likely felt the same. However, Louie couldn’t even imagine going back to his bunk now, not when he felt his uncle needed him as much as he needed Donald.

“I’ll try and talk to her. It’ll be slow and I don’t know how she’ll take it, but I’ll talk to her,” Donald suddenly spoke up. “Uncle Scrooge too, for that matter.”

Louie wiped his eyes and shook his head. “You don’t gotta do that, it probably won’t change anything.”

“I have to try, Lou.” Donald looked down at him. “You’re worth at least trying.”

Louie didn’t have a response for that, so he just nuzzled back close and there was quiet again.

Louie liked the quiet. It was much better than the eerie silence of the manor, and how it would always be broken abruptly by some creaking wood or wind whirling down the chimney. On the houseboat, the sounds were constant, like a lullaby. The splashing of the water, the squeaking old metal, the soft hum of the old AC unit– it always knew how to put Louie to sleep.

“Uncle Donald?” he suddenly spoke up.

“Yes?”

“Can I… stay here with you tonight?” Louie glanced back up at him.

Donald’s face melted into a soft smile. “Of course, Lou. You’re welcome here any time.”

“Good.” Louie smiled too, before yawning.

His uncle chuckled before yawning himself. “Looks like we should get going to bed, huh?”

“I could stay up longer,” Louie lied, making his uncle roll his eyes.

“Drink some tea before you take that melatonin, I don’t want it going to waste,” Donald lightly teased before getting up and drinking more of his own.

Louie nodded, beginning to chug before he remembered he really wasn’t that big of a fan of tea, and so set it down again. “Is… that enough?” Louie asked.

Donald laughed. “Yes, yes, it’s fine, I’m just joking, no need to force yourself.”

Louie smiled before struggling to open the bottle of melatonin. Noticing this, his uncle walked over and helped him retrieve the yellow pill, which Louie took with a little bit of tea. After that was done, Donald cleaned up their mugs and set them out to dry. Once that was settled, Louie took Donald’s hand and the two of them went to cuddle the rest of the night away.

[potatoowl2501]

“It’s cold. I almost forget that your skin isn’t real.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No. It’s just… Despite all of this, you’re the most human person I have ever met.”

P put his hand on mine.

“And I like to feel your warmth.”

[renegade-diamonds]

New fanfiction for the Ronance fandom's enjoyment! This is heavily inspired by @thefourchimes and @lumaxramblings amazing AU, so please go read their stuff when you have a chance!

[queenlucythevaliant]

1 Chronicles of Narnia

Now these are the generations of Frank I, King of Narnia, and of Helen his Queen:

After Frank had lived twenty-seven years and Helen his wife twenty-four, they begat a son after their own likenesses and called his name Frank, after his father. A daughter also they begat, and her name was Sarah; for they said, “Aslan gave this land to us and to our descendants.”

They were the first of all rulers of Narnia and to them all the Beasts and Creatures of the world were given in stewardship. They made the rough places level that structures might be built and tamed the wilds a little that the people of Narnia might dwell in them. For their line the cornerstone of Cair Paravel was laid, so that Frank and Helen might have a dwelling place worthy of the calling to which Aslan had called them. They guided the people of Narnia and instructed them in uprightness; and in all things they were Aslan’s servants.

And all the days of Frank I were eighty-two: and having reigned fifty-six years, he died and was buried at Lantern Waste in the place where Aslan first called him. And Queen Helen’s days were ninety, and she lay beside him.

-

Frank II lived sixty-three years and by his wife, the nymph Hespera, he begat sons Frank III and Isaac, and a daughter Rebecca; for he remembered the ways of his parents. Frank II did all that Aslan had commanded his father, and he wrote down all the songs and stories that his parents had taught him.

And Isaac his son went to the pasturelands in the south and established his father’s rule there even as he worked the land among the Beasts. But Rebecca remained in her father’s house, for she loved the sea.

And having ruled Narnia eight years, Frank II died, and Frank III ruled in his place.

-

Frank III lived fifty-four years and by his wife, Liriope the naiad, he begat only Rachel, his daughter. Now Frank III was thirty-three when he began to reign, and he was the first king of Narnia to rule at Cair Paravel. Under his dominion, the boarders of Narnia were drawn: north at the River Shribble as far as Lantern Waste and south at the mountains beyond Glasswater. He ruled twenty-eight years in peace: and after he died, Rachel ruled Narnia.

-

Now Rachel was twenty years old when she began to reign. She remembered her fathers’ instruction and she walked in uprightness; yet she feared the evil that had gone into north and so devoted herself to Narnia’s fortification. It was said among some of the people that Queen Rachel did not close her eyes even to sleep.

In her first year, she ordered the forging of 5,000 iron swords from the Red Dwarves, and from the Black Dwarves 2,000 shields and 12,000 arrow tips. From the dryads she ordered 1,500 bows such as could be made of sturdy, flexible wood. She built up walls and armaments around the Tree of Protection and appointed farsighted Eagles to guard it by day and Owls by night. She established watchtowers in the Northern March; and the first armies of Narnia assembled under her general, Gripfast the centaur.

Rachel lived seventy-seven years and she begat Frank IV and daughters Lea and Dina: and having reigned fifty-seven years, she died. And she and all her descendants were buried beneath the third hill of Cair Paravel, just within the outermost fortifications.

-

Frank IV was fifty-three years old when he began to reign. He lived sixty-nine years and begat Frank V and Cainan. But Frank IV was the first Narnian king to die in battle, for in his day a wer-wolf made its den by Cauldron Pool and was terrorizing all those who came there. So the king went out alone and called the wer-wolf out to combat, and the wer-wolf tore his body apart.

When his son Cainan heard what had happened, he rode out to Cauldron Pool with twenty warriors and they vanquished the wer-wolf; and after he had done this, Cainan sailed east and became the first ruling Prince of Galma.

Having reigned sixteen years, Frank IV died, and his son Frank V ruled Narnia in his place.

-

Now Frank V was forty-three years old when he began to reign. His mother’s name was Neda, a river goddess. And he did right in the ways of Aslan, but not with his whole heart. For Frank V was a proud man and he put his own seal, not the Lion’s, on all that he did. He established the first Narnian exploratory corps, an assembly of 3,000 Birds, Antelope, and other nimble creatures sent into the wastes to report back what they saw. In this way, the lands to the south of the mountains were first discovered.

By his wife, a woman of Galma, Frank V begat Frank VI, Colin, and Col, and daughters Ellen, Nia, and Genive. And because his son Frank V was his heir, the king greatly favored him; but his other sons and daughters, the king left to their own devices.

And in that day, Aslan was seen again in Narnia's lands: for when they were young women the princesses Ellen, Nia, and Genive stood together on the eastern shore of Galma and called to him. They spoke the words of reverence and supplication which had come from the writings of Frank II, saying, "We long to see thy glory, O Aslan; Lord, shine your countenance upon us." And as they waited, behold, Aslan came to them out of the east and spoke unto the princesses face to face. Yet it is not written in this or any other book what he said to them.

Having reigned thirty-eight years, Frank V died. But Frank VI lived twenty-six years only and did not wed, for he was feeble from birth. Colin, his brother, ruled in his place.

-

Now Colin and his brother Col were much intrigued by all that lay to Narnia’s south and in youth they made a pact to establish a kingdom there together. But when Frank VI died and Colin became heir, he told his brother Col, “You must go south now so that when I am king, we may begin to build an empire together.” So Col went south into the mountains and there established Archenland.

And Colin became king when he was thirty-one years old. On the day of his coronation, he sent a dispatch of 700 Narnians to Archenland, telling them, “Build my brother a nation fit to stand beside Narnia.”

Thus Archenland grew and prospered; and travel to and from Narnia was established across the mountains. Each year, Col and his queen would winter in Narnia; and Colin and his queen, who was Ida the mountain nymph, oft summered in Archenland. In this way, the great alliance between the two nations was born.

And by Queen Ida, Colin begat Colin II and daughters Salla and Saria: and having reigned forty years, he died.

-

Now Colin II was forty years old when he began to rule. Colin II did what was right in Aslan’s eyes. In the first year of his reign, he formally dedicated Stone Table Hill to the Emperor-beyond-the-Sea. Likewise, he established days of feasting in the Lion’s honor and on those days the gates of Cair Paravel were flung wide to all who would enter. And he begat a son Cal and daughter Joianna: and having reigned nineteen years, he died. But Cal lived only nine years and his sister Joianna ruled Narnia after her father’s death.

-

Joianna was thirty-two years old when she began to rule, and her mother’s name was Sharra. Joianna was called the Dancing Queen, for she was the first ruler of Narnia to partake in the summer frolics on the Dancing Lawn. Lords came from the south and the east to beg her hand for a dance; but she married a Narnian Elm-spirit.

Yet in spite of her cognomen, Joianna loved all the arts: she was a painter and she established a school of painting which met at Lantern Waste, for she said, “It is the place of all creation.” And in her day, many masterful artworks were made, and some adorned the halls of Cair Paravel.

Joianna was patron to many of the finest artists that Narnia has yet known: she gifted fine materials to Caulkin the dwarf, who made statues of gold and bronze so lifelike that many mistook them for living creatures, and to Gleamcast the centaur she gave lengths of blue and black velvet for her tapestries.

In her last days, Joianna also established the Narnian Library at Cair Paravel, that all the histories of the world might be put to paper. And she lived for seventy-six years and with her husband begat Cal II, Caden, and a daughter Marianna: and having reigned forty-four years, she died.

-

And Cal, second of that name but the first to rule Narnia as king, lived sixty-six years. He begat Jonan, Julan, and Joianna II: and having reigned ten years, he died.

But it was during Cal’s reign that outlaws from another world appeared in the south of Archenland and began to build themselves a kingdom, which today is called Calormen. They brought laws and customs from their own place and did not pay Aslan any due. Rather, they cursed him as a demon and a false god; and when he heard news of this, King Cal’s heart stopped and his life ended.

-

Jonan was thirty-nine when he began to rule and he begat only daughters: Ira and Lyra by his wife Helin of Archenland, and Birchsilver, whose mother was a dryad: and having reigned six years, he died.

-

Now Ira lived seventy-nine years and begat Garlen, Galad, Seabreak, and a daughter Joianna III. She did not acknowledge Aslan or the ways of her fathers, but did wickedness in the Emperor’s sight. When Ira heard of the fine perfumes being sold in the new southern country, she sent an envoy south and arranged to purchase them. And when she heard that some Calormene ladies had slaves to carry them about in litters, she ordered six centaurs and two unicorns to live at the Cair and bear her astride wherever she went.

Queen Ira greatly prized her own beauty, and when she began to think that her daughter Joianna had surpassed her, Ira had a tower built at the westernmost wall of Cair Paravel, and there imprisoned her. But though her tower was not windowless, Joianna wasted away because the Eastern Sea was beyond her sight, and her beauty quickly faded. Only then did her mother the queen release her.

Having reigned fifty-two years, Ira died and was buried with her fathers.  

-

Now Garlen, Ira’s first son, lived sixty-one years; but he received a wound in his youth and could not sire children. Thus, his brother Galad ruled Narnia after Queen Ira’s death.

Galad was fifty-three years old when he began to reign, but after his half-sister’s imprisonment he began to lose his senses; and by the time he became king, he was altogether mad. Yet in spite of this impediment, he made a favorable marriage to Larin, princess of Archenland, and she bore him Cassadon and Carradon and daughters Raina, Joia, and Ellan. Because of Galad’s infirmity, his wife Larin and son Cassadon ruled Narnia in truth: and having been king thirty-eight years, Galad died.

-

Now Cassadon was instructed in the ways of wise rulership from the time he began to speak, and he walked upright before the Lion. But when his brother Carradon saw that Cassadon ruled while their father still lived, he bribed a certain satyr to kill him while he was out riding. But Cassadon dodged the blow and arrested the satyr, who told him at once what Caradon had done: and because Cassadon trusted Aslan and was forgiving in nature, he pardoned his brother and did not raise a hand against him.

But resentment still simmered in the heart of Carradon, so he went to some of the royal guards at Cair Paravel and said, “If one of you kills my brother Cassadon, I will give him his own dutchy; and if he fails, he will be pardoned, for my brother is a soft-hearted man.”

But the guards were loyal to Cassadon because he was a good and upright man, so they went before him together and told him what Carradon had asked them to do. And when he heard this, Cassadon was greatly distressed; but because he loved his brother, he placed him under house arrest and did not raise a hand against him.

Yet Carradon hated his brother all the more for his kindness, so he wrote to his brother-in-law Prodit, the husband of his sister Ellan, saying, “If you arrange to have Cassadon killed the next time he is in your house, I will make your wife my heir when I am king, and then your children will sit on the throne of Narnia.” So, the next time that Cassadon visited the house of his sister Ellan, he was given a chalice full with poison and drank it, and at once he began to spasm in his chair. But Cassadon cried out to Aslan, and the Lion preserved his life until a healer arrived. And when Ellan found out what had happened, she questioned all the members of her household until Carradon’s treachery was unveiled.

Then, after long consultation with his advisors and with Larin his mother, Cassadon brought Carradon before the Stone Table and said, “Though you are my brother, you have thrice betrayed me and sought my death. Therefore, let the Emperor-beyond-the-Sea be judge between us.” And after he had said these things, Cassadon put his brother to death on the Stone Table, and his blood ran down its surface and pooled in the letters that were graven there.

And Cassadon lived sixty years and by his wife, the maenad Lucizia, he begat a son named Gale, most famous of all the kings of Frank’s dynasty, and daughters Allia and Lightfall: and having reigned less that a year in his own name, he died.

-

Now Gale was thirty-nine years old when he began to reign. From a child, his father taught him all the histories of Narnia to instruct him in uprightness; and as a youth Gale vowed that when he ruled Narnia, he would serve Aslan with his whole heart. He was a just judge and a valiant warrior, and all the people of Narnia loved him. He reinstituted the High Festivals which Colin II had begun and invited envoys from Archenland, Galma, and even Calormen to partake in them. And a few Calormenes came to know Aslan in this way.

But Gale’s greatest deeds, it is told, took place on a series of sea-voyages to the lands to the East of Narnia. Terebinthia he discovered uninhabited, and when some of his people asked to form a colony there, Gale told them, “Go with Aslan’s blessing and devote yourselves to his service there.” But Gale remained high king over Terebinthia in those days.

The Lone Islands he found peopled with men whose ancestry traced back to that other world from which Frank and the Calormenes had first come; and the people of the Lone Islands were at great need, for a dragon had made its habitation on Doorn and was besieging the people there. But Gale mustered his Narnian forces and by Aslan’s gift defeated the dragon. In gratitude, the Lone Islands made Gale and his line their emperor forever. But even as he accepted, Gale said, “There is only one Emperor, and all the kings of the world are in his hand.”

Gale reigned forty-one years and by his wife Josephine, a shepherdess of Felimath, he begat Gale II: and when he was eighty years old, he sailed east without any crew and his likeness was never seen in Narnia again.

-

Gale II lived one hundred and thirteen years and his wife Lis begat only daughters: Galia, Raia, Lia, Blushsky, and Bee. Gale II was the richest of all Narnian kings, for under his reign the Narnia prospered and the land was abundant. The king gathered riches from the four corners of the world: musical instruments and precious gems from the north, carved decorations of coral and bone from the east, golden statues and stonework from the south, and rich wine and fruit from the west. His daughters were famous for their beauty and wit, and all made good matches: and when they married, they took heaping chests of treasure with them. But Gale retained the bulk of his wealth, and beneath Cair Paravel he caused there to be built a great Treasure House.

During the reign of Gale II, a strange people emerged west of Narnia in the land of Telmar: and the king sent them rich gifts of gold and silver and many jewels, but they were turned away. Yet the inhabitants of Telmar showed no signs of hostility against Narnia, and so the king did not prevent them from making their habitations in the west.

When the Calormenes finished building the great temple of Tash in the thirty-fifth year of his reign, the king said, “Let me go and see this great thing which has been built in the south.” So he journeyed to Tashbaan and partook in the dedication of the temple, and there he paid a great tribute in rich rubies and emeralds at Tash’s alter.  

Yet while he was in Calormen, a few Marsh-wiggles began to rebel in the north of Narnia, and the Black Dwarves, and some of the Beasts in those parts soon joined them. But Gale II ordered the rebellion crushed and the wigwams of those who had begun it were destroyed utterly.

And when they saw what the king had done to his own people, the men of Terebinthia rejected Gale II as their high king; and Gale did not oppose them, for his army was discontented.

And having reigned seventy-five years, Gale II died, and his daughter Galia reigned in his place.

-

And Galia lived ninety years, but most of her life she spent in the western dutchy of Lantern Waste with her husband, who was duke: and with her husband she begat Gale III and Carlisle, and having reigned five years, she died.

-

Gale III lived eighty-one years and like his mother did not begin to reign until he was old: for the splendor of his grandfather’s rule still hung over all Narnia. But while he ruled, the people of Narnia were free and unencumbered; but the lights of Cair Paravel were dark while Gale III reigned. And by two women he begat Gale IV and Ele: and having reigned seventeen years, he died.

-

But Gale IV lived thirty-six years only and his daughter Rosebriar, whose mother was Zehra Tarkheena, ruled Narnia in his place.

Rosebriar was thirty-eight old when she began to reign. She lived eighty-nine years and with her husband, Lord Eleon of Terebinthia, she begat Gale V, Ebeneezer (whose name came from one of Narnia’s oldest songs), and Umit. Now Queen Rosebriar was a prophet, and while dreaming Aslan gave her visions of things to come.

From a child she dreamed snow and ice, howling winds and howling wolves; but then she saw Aslan, whose radiance filled the sea, and he promised her that he would one day return to the land he had created and give four children of Frank’s root rule over Narnia.

Having dreamed all these things, Rosebriar caused four thrones to be built in the royal hall of Cair Paravel. Marble they were, graven with images from Rosebriar’s dreams, and she decreed that none should sit in those thrones until all that Aslan had promised had come to pass. And as to the rest of Queen Rosebriar’s prophecies, are they not written in her book which is stored in the Library of Cair Paravel?

Having reigned fifty-one years, Rosebriar died and her son Gale V ruled Narnia.

-

And Gale V lived seventy-seven years and begat Gale VI: and having reigned ten years, he died.

-

Gale VI was sixteen years old when he began to reign, and his mother was Ell of Archenland. Gale VI honored Aslan, and he waged wars in the north in the hope of rooting out the evil concerning which Queen Rosebriar had prophesied. But in the northern moors, no sign of the witch could be found. Yet Gale VI pushed Narnia’s northern boundary across the whole of Ettinsmoor to the foothills of the mountains, where they have remain to this very day. And Gale VI lived fifty-nine years and with his wife begat Gale VII, Galian, and Calvin: and having reigned forty-three years, he died.

-

And Gale VII lived forty-two years and married the hammadryad Greyleaf, by whom he begat twin daughters: Stonegrey and Cloudgrey. And having reigned seven years, he died.

-

Stonegrey and Cloudgrey were twenty-two years old when their father died, and because they were twins, they said to one another, “Why should one of us rule over the other?” So they reigned over Narnia jointly. They were not wicked in nature, but neither did they remember the name of Aslan, nor even the prophecies of Rosebriar their recent mother. They sat together in two of the four thrones which she had built for Aslan’s anointed, and so defiled them. When they did this, the grass began to wither across the land.

At this time, a faun named Salus came out of the west by Lantern Waste; and he visited the sister-queens at Cair Paravel. “The line of Frank is withering,” he said to them. “Return, return to the Lion, O Narnia! You will be torn from the ground as a withered tree and flung into the fire.”

Queen Stonegrey and Queen Cloudgrey heard Salus’s words, but they did not listen. Instead, they laughed and said, “Return, mad-faun, to your own place.” And the grass continued to wither, as though bitten by frost.

Stonegrey lived ninety-nine years and Cloudgrey lived sixty-six. Each of them bore a son in the same year, and the names they gave them were Fallstone and Stormsky: but they nursed their sons together, and kept them in the same nursery, and one of the children died in the night. No one was ever certain whose son had died, so they called the surviving child Stormstone, and he inherited their thrones. And having reigned with her sister forty-four years and alone thirty-three, Stonegrey died.  

-

Stormstone was seventy-one years old when he became king, and he saw no reason why he should not seat himself in one of the four thrones as his mother had done. But when he did this, the rivers and springs of Narnia began to run dry. And Stormstone knew then that he had done evil, or else he was frightened; so he cordoned off the thrones with a net of enchanted thread, that none might sit in them for a hundred years.

And insodoing it came to pass that King Stormstone became greatly learned in the magical arts and thus he went out to the Tree of Protection hoping to strengthen the protective spell that Aslan had laid on Narnia at creation. But when he inspected it, he found that the Tree sick, for only a few of its apples were sweet. But Stormstone was fearful of what the Narnians’ response would be if ever this became known, so he hid it from all but his closest advisors.

And by his wife Stormstone begat two sons, Shale and Micah: and having reigned for thirty years, he died.

-

And Shale lived eighty-eight years and by two wives he begat four sons, Calis, Tinan, Rush, and Ash, and two daughters, Deereye and Cornflax. In Shale’s day, the dwarves delved deeper into the earth than ever before, and discovered such wonders as no one had ever seen; and some of the Beasts began to live among their wild kindred and became as dumb beasts. The revelries at Dancing Lawn honored Aslan no longer, and after a while they went on day and night unceasing. Wine there was, and rich food from Calormen and the Lone Islands. And King Shale spoke Aslan’s name not once in the forty-four years he reigned.  

But the weeping willow dryad Fleba came before the king and she spoke the name of Aslan in a reedy voice. “The winter draws near,” she wept. “Aslan, the Light in the East, loves you still; but his glory will not suffer wickedness to endure.” And though the king heeded her not, she returned to his court again and again, weeping loudly.

In his old age, King Shale hosted a tourney to which he invited all the lords and ladies, kings of queens, Tarkaans and Tarkheens, and every person of beauty or skill from across the known world. And after the festivities began, the king became drunk, and when he tried to mount his horse, he fell backwards and died. And because few of his children survived him, his youngest son Ash ruled in his place.

-

Now Ash lived forty-seven years and begat Emberred and daughters Eca and Eleen. He was thirty-eight years old when he became king, but as soon as he was crowned, he indulged in all the vices of his father: and having reigned nine years, he died.

-

Emberred lived eighty-one years and begat Felfrost and a daughter Silksheen. In the thirty-sixth year of his reign, the Bear Snaggletooth appeared at the Stone Table and began to prophecy concerning the Deep Magic: “The Lion will not forget his Pride. What he has said to me, I will tell you: the Deep Magic from before the Dawn of Time was given form and word that his beloved might be redeemed. He will breathe into the remnant of his faithful ones, and not one will be lost.” All the words of that Bear were written down, for a few Narnians believed his words, and having believed they went unto the Stone Table and cleansed it, and there began be murmurings against the king.

When Emberred heard this, he ordered that Snaggletooth be put to death: so a Narnian executioner bound and muzzled him and cut him open on the Stone Table, and the his followers dispersed in fear.

Having reigned fifty-two years, Emberred died. But Silksheen spread rumors that her brother Felfrost was not his father’s trueborn son, so she ruled Narnia after Emberred’s death.

-

Silksheen lived seventy-three years and begat Firmfoot and Stronghilt: and while she was queen, there were rumors of a Marsh-wiggle who prophesied in the north. Yet when Silksheen heard of this, she said, “What news is it to hear a Marsh-wiggle proclaiming doom? Let him alone.”  And after she had reigned fourteen years, Silksheen died. And though Firmfoot was her elder son, the queen favored Stronghilt; so he ruled Narnia in his brother’s place.

-

Stronghilt was forty-nine years old when he began to reign, and he begat three sons, Goldbrow, Silverbrow, and Bronzebrow. All three were tall warriors, strongly built and with power in their arms. And once his sons were grown, the king said to himself, “Since the gods have blessed me with three such fine sons, surely I must put them to some mighty use.” So he assembled a great army not of Narnians, but of cruels, hags, incubuses, wraiths, efreets, wer-wolves, Ettin-giants, and all manner of other evil creatures from the wild lands to the north. And with that army, he marched against Archenland; and his sons were with him. But Aslan caused a great wall of cloud to come down in the mountains where Narnia’s southern boarder was, and nothing could pass through it.

So Stronghilt turned east and set his sights on the Seven Isles, but when the king and his armies set sail, Aslan caused a wall of fire to rise above the waters and encircle the Narnian coast as far as could be measured, and nothing could pass through it.

Then, in despair, Stronghilt turned his gaze west to Telmar, but before his armies could advance, his son Goldbrow slit his throat while he slept, and thus, having reigned twelve years, Stronghilt died.

-

And Goldbrow lived forty years and begat no children: and having reigned seven years, he died. And his brother Silverbrow ruled Narnia.

-

And Silverbrow lived forty years and begat no children: and having reigned seven years, he died. And his brother Bronzebrow ruled Narnia.

-

And Bronzebrow lived forty years and begat only a daughter, born in midwinter, whom he called Swanwhite: and having reigned seven years, he died.

-

Now Swanwhite was fifteen years old when she began to reign, and her beauty was so great that any pool into which she gazed held her reflection for a year and a day. And as she grew, the people of Narnia said of her, “Here, at last, is another great ruler from the line of kings.”

On the day she was crowned, a winged horse came before Swanwhite weeping great, horsey tears. It was a lovely summer day, perfectly befitting the beauty of the young queen. Yet the horse wept and spoke the Lion’s words: “Judgement comes like a sledge through snow. O my cold and lonely one, the King’s heart breaks for you.”

The queen laughed and heeded her not. It was a beautiful, gentle day and she did not think herself cold or lonely. She replied, “Be merry, fair friend; today I would have joy in all the land.”

And Swanwhite reigned in joy for a time, but in the sixth year of her reign the White Witch came out of the north at last, and at her command were all the armies of evil creatures that King Stronghilt had assembled. She began her conquest in the far northwest, and when rumors of it reached the queen she laughed and heeded them not.

But in the final days of Swanwhite’s reign over Narnia, the White Witch tore down Queen Rachel’s walls which had stood for seven hundred years around the Tree of Protection. The Tree itself she turned to stone with her wand; and her armies trampled it to pieces.

When word of the Tree’s destruction reached Swanwhite at Cair Paravel, she mustered fifty Narnian warriors and led them to Stone Table Hill, hoping to take the Witch by surprise while she was performing dark rituals there unguarded. In this, Swanwhite failed. The Witch turned her warriors into stone and had the statues carried away; but Swanwhite herself was bound and gagged and the White Witch slew her on the Stone Table.

Swanwhite lived twenty-five years and begat no children: and having reigned nine years, she died. And the White Witch ruled over Narnia.

[trainofcommand]

Oh, what's that? You're looking for ridiculous innuendo-laden writing about hosting and cooking? And you love (or want to love) eggplants?

Well don't worry, because there's this:

The Elegant Individual's Guide to Entertaining (and Cooking) with Eggplants (AKA How to be the Perfect Host)

Summary: Whether they're big, little, long, stubby, thick, or thin, eggplants are suitable for all gastronomic and entertaining occasions. Often startlingly eye-catching (in public and private), eggplants have a long history of delighting first-timers and connoisseurs alike. (Rating: T+)

[1v31182m5]

[thatanimeramenchick]

Yandere Vox x Secretary Reader Pt. 2

Eh, what have you guys done to me. I swear, we Vox fangirls are the thirstiest on the internet right now. Also, officially, I’m making this a three part series, but that’s it. So much for a oneshot. I'll make a title for this series, eventually. Also, if you want to be tagged, please put your age in your bio.

Part One - Part Three

Triggers: Dubcon-y vibes in scenes. Violence and threatening. Read responsibly, stuff is gonna get a little dark this chapter.

Word count: 3,142

---

Vox thought you looked perfect. For once, you were wearing something decent that he bought you instead of one of the plain outfits from before you had moved in. Somehow, you had been convinced to put on actual jewelry and makeup as well. The only flaw you held was the dirty look on your face, which you refused to face towards him directly, and it only got dirtier as you downed more and more wine.

“You know, you could at least attempt to have a good time after all the effort I put into this evening,” he said, “You haven’t even touched your food.”

“Not hungry,” you said, voice ice cold. It always was nowadays.

“If you’re not in the mood for dinner, we could watch a new production I oversaw,” he said, “I think you’d enjoy it.”

You snort at that.

“I’d rather listen to Alastor’s radio program than watch any of the hot trash your production company creates,” you said.

“I’m sorry? What was that?” he said, putting a warning hint into his tone.

“You heard me,” you said, “I’ve gotta say for someone supposedly so modern, you’re still just an old man. Alastor is what? Like twenty years older than you? And you think he’s elderly? You’re practically a decrepit bygone as well. You think anyone gives a shit about cable nowadays? At least Alastor has the decency to make stuff with class and not just forgettable, cheap cash grabs.”

Against his will, he felt a circuit spurt. His hand clenched around the glass and slammed it onto the table, causing you to jump. A small noise left your mouth, as panicked as the look in your eyes was now. You looked like you knew that you had pushed a little more than you probably should have.

“You know what?” he hissed, “You think you can just talk to me like that? Fine. You wanna play rough with me? Well guess what, I’m going to fuck that bad attitude right out of you!”

“Excuse me???”

You didn’t even look scared at that just shocked and baffled, as if that had been the last thing you had expected to hear.

“You heard me!” he grabbed you by your shoulders and shoved you flat onto the couch, “I’m sick of you fighting me. Well, you’re not going to after this.”

“W-wait, Vox, stop-”

He smashed his lips to yours, purposefully being harsh, biting you when you tried to keep your mouth closed. When you attempted to turn your face away, he grabbed your chin rough enough where he knew it would leave a mark before kissing you harder. You pounded your fist against his chest, but he ignored it, straddling you. He eventually used his other hand to grab your wrist and push it into the couch.

He didn’t know when it happened, but at some point in your struggle something shifted in the air. Changed. You had finally stopped fighting, slowly wrapping your arm around his neck, kissing him back. It was heavenly, you finally submitting to him. Yes, yes, yes… He paused to look you in the eyes, to see your timid gaze and red face. There was still a look of anger glazed across your features, but it was fading. He brought his hand up to play at the buttons on your blouse. You looked at each other for a second longer before you initiated a kiss for once, using the arm around his neck to pull him close. Your tongue felt so hot, so right, as if your body was as electric as his own and-

Vox gasped, a spark running through his head. He woke up alone in bed, a literal hot mess. He felt like his head was overheating, running a million miles a minute, despite the fact that he should feel cold from sleep. Mixing this with the slick sweat and fluid he was covered in, it was an uncomfortable feeling. Groping for the robe hanging next to his bed, he climbed out. What a dream. He needed a second to wire down from that before trying to go back to sleep.

He picked up his phone and opened it to check on you. The camera in your room showed you curled up on your mattress, blanket half off your body and arms wrapped around one of your pillows. It pressed into your dozing face, which held a peaceful, relaxed look that he rarely saw now that you had decided to go to war with him. His finger absently stroked your image on the screen.

Why did you have to be so difficult? He didn’t know what had been the powder keg that had kicked off your little rebellion, but whatever it was, all his attempts to nip it in the bud had made you more temperamental. Clearly his irritation with your behavior had seeped into his mind enough to create some… darker fantasies deep in his sleeping subconscious.

He shook his head. It was just a dream. It didn’t mean anything.

Besides, he already had been thinking about what to do next, to give you that little push you needed to be more agreeable.

---

Later that day he scoffed at how ridiculous his own morbid imagination was. The idea of you dressed all pimped up like one of Valentino’s whores. You barely got out of bed nowadays. If he was being honest, your imprisonment had caused your mood to swing between defiant temper tantrums and a hopelessly depressed sloth. Today, you were in the latter mood, still in pajamas that he swore you were wearing two days ago, lying on the couch and mindlessly eating as you watched some random reality show.

“Hello there, beautiful,” he said, trying to sound pleasant, “Looks like you’ve had a relaxing day.”

You glance at him for a second before looking back at the television. The blanket is pulled tighter around you, as if you were trying to hide any inch of yourself from him. Ever since his last attempt at showing his affection had ended in you headbutting him – hard – you had been particularly prickly at even the slightest hint that he might want to touch you.

“What do you want, asshole?” you said, voice lacking emotion.

Charming as always.

“Well, dearest, I was thinking. Now that you’ve had some time to think things over, I was hoping we could finally come to an agreement that would make us both happy,” he said.

“I highly doubt that’s possible,” you said.

He sat beside you, which caused you to curl your legs in tighter. You inch up on the arm a little, as if to sit as far away from him as possible without having to actually put any effort into getting up.

“We both have something that the other person wants, something that could be easily settled with a written contract,” Vox said, “You would like to be allowed to roam around this cesspool of a city and I-”

“Let me guess, it includes a whole paragraph about me never leaving your sight as well as a clause about how often you get to stick yourself in my various orifices?” you grumbled.

“You’re so melodramatic sometimes,” he said, “You always assuming the worst about people, F/N. Makes me wonder if you were double crossed a lot in your previous life.”

You don’t even respond to this, just continue to stare ahead. He’d noticed that lately you’ve been avoiding his gaze. He wasn’t sure how much you had figured out about his abilities, but you seemed to have pieced enough together that the more you avoided his eyes, the less direct influence he had on you at the moment. He was sure that it was one of the many reasons you were so moody lately; you stubbornly refused to be soothed by him. Regardless, whether you were trying to avoid his hypnotic gaze or not, it’s no matter. It’s not like you’re going to be able to avoid the overall influence he has over this city, especially if you spend your free time watching television he’s created.

“It’s rather tame, considering the situation you’re in. Contract or not, it’s not like you’re going to be going anywhere anytime soon,” he continued, “You’re lucky I care for you as much as I do, trying to work with you like this.”

“Hooray for me,” you said.

You really were a brat sometimes. Vox at times wondered if it was because he was too soft on you, and you didn’t realize the amount of actual power he held over you. Either that or you just didn’t care anymore. Whatever. It was all big talk because at the end of the day, you both knew you couldn’t do anything about your situation.

“You already have lots of benefits, which you would retain. Nice apartment, clothes, up to date tech. Besides that, you can come and go regularly, as long as you’re back here within twenty-four from when you last left. You can do whatever you want during that time. You also would be working for me a minimum of forty hours a week, with the occasional granted vacation at my discretion. That’s pretty much it, along with you occasionally being cooperative with my… desires,” he said, “So you’d have plenty of time to yourself. I didn’t put in anything that would force you to do anything too unsavory with me.”

Though he certainly would have liked to be more pushy in that department, he knew going too far could result in the kind of hate fueled relationship Valentino and Angel Dust shared. He honestly didn’t have the energy to have that much drama in his own life. Good night, he could hardly handle the drama that was in his life now. Besides, he was sure you’d come around willingly, even if it took a few centuries.

You glared at him as he finished speaking, as if to say, how generous of you.

From inside his vest, he pulls out the contract and holds it out to you.

“So, we have a deal?” he asked.

You sit up and take the paper, still avoiding his eyes. You seem to be reading it over, though your hold on it is lazy.

“… This still says you can fuck me at least once a week if you want to, or else I’m not allowed to leave the building,” you said, “Did you really think I wasn’t going to notice shit like that?”

He laughed a bit awkwardly.

“I mean, I did say I would like you to be at least a little cooperative,” he said, crossing his legs, “We could wait a little while if you’d like. I mean, you’d still have more freedom than you do now, even with that minuscule restriction. You should know by now that I’m a patient man.”

You stare at it again, forehead wrinkled.

“You know what… I see where you’re coming from,” you said, finally making eye contact, “Tic for tac, eh?”

“That’s a crude way for you to put it,” he said.

You shrug.

“Crude or not, it’s the truth,” you said, a sardonic smirk appearing on your face, “You want me to give a little to get a little.”

Before he could say anything you hold up your hands with more energy than he’s seen you have in days.

“No, no, no! I understand. I’ve been in hell long enough to know how people like you work. I get where you’re coming from, I really do. I’m not stupid! So trust me, I’m being completely serious when I say that I think you should take this lovely contract of yours and shove it up your glowing blue ass!” you ripped it in half on the last word, your smile still present but a nasty look in your eyes.

Vox felt his eye twitch as you continued to smirk at him, tossing the paper at him like you would throw trash across the room. You then lie back down and turn back to the TV, ignoring him again as if the last few minutes hadn’t even happened at all. Though you were attempting to pull your face back into the blank expression of earlier, he could see in your eyes a mixture of emotion, rage, yes, but also a certain smugness. What, did you really think you were tough shit for mouthing off to him like that?

He felt like his head was going to explode. Before he even registered how he was reacting, he had grabbed you by the hair and was pulled you back over.

“Ow! What the hell are you doing, Vox?” you yelled, the smug look gone from your eyes, “You’re hurting me!”

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you? I’m trying to be generous to you because I actually like you, but you know what? I’ve clearly spoiled you rotten already!” he fumed.

He was practically seeing red as he dragged you over, causing you to yelp. You try to kick him, but he only grabs onto your ankle and pulls you closer to him, spinning you around so that you were pressed against the back of the couch, his arms on either side of you. His fingers are still gripping your hair, forcing you to turn your head towards him.

“You know, you’re right, who needs a contract?” he said, “I can do whatever the hell I want with you, and what are you going to do about it?”

Your voice cracked as you attempted to speak, but he didn’t pay any attention to what you were trying to say. He could feel his systems overloading with the amount of rage he was feeling, shouting over you.

“I hope you like the view from up here, because you’re staying here for the rest of your miserable eternal exist. You can work and live here 24/7,” he said, “Anything else we should change in the arrangement? You didn’t like the idea of fucking me once a week? Fine by me. Why not once a day? Twice a day? Every hour? Would you like that better? Huh? Answer me!”

As he finished speaking, he finally heard what you were saying, “-m sorry! I’m sorry, please, stop!

As he heard your pleading, he felt himself being brought back down to earth. While his rage was still present, your begging brought him back to reality, and it was finally registering how upset you were. Hysterical. Terrified. You were sobbing, more afraid of him than he had ever seen you, even on the worst days of your fighting.

“D-d-don’t hurt me. I’m s-sorry, I’m sorry! Please, don’t hurt me!”

He released your hair with a rapid exhale, and you automatically moved your head away from him, arms shielding your face. Shaking, it was sinking in just emotionally distraught you were, as well as the damage he had done to the couch. He hadn’t even noticed he had been digging his claws into the polyester, a row of gnashes beside your head. The situation was completely getting out of control. He pushed himself off of you and turned away. He didn’t even say anything, just left the room and went through the wires to his office. His head was overheating, and he was going to crash at this rate if he didn’t calm down.

Damn it! He hated how out of control you made him feel. It was pathetic. There was only one other person he could think of that made him get near as frustrated as he was feeling with you at the moment. He wasn’t the kind to act out, and here he was acting almost as ridiculous as his business partner did. The only saving grace was that Vox at least tried to keep his infatuation as quiet and private as possible.

It was more than his emotional irregularity though. The fact that he felt this way at all about you was humiliating. Affection, fondness, it was a weakness, and he knew it. Valentino got away with just having simple lust and taking what he wanted, but genuine affection demanded gentleness and tenderness. It was beyond him just not being able to do as he pleased with you, he didn’t want to. He wanted you to come to him willingly. It was the thing holding him back from just hypnotizing you into his arms or using a “love” potion, and now he had probably set any progress towards your affection back significantly.

He rubbed his forehead, which was starting to cool down a little. What was going on up there? He was going to end up doing something rash, something he regretted, if he didn’t get things under control and under control fast. Something needed to be done, but he didn’t know what. Nothing had gone how he had wanted it to. He would need to rethink his approach.

---

You spent a long time shaking on the couch, arms and blanket wrapped around you, crying. You were an idiot. Clearly your brain was turning to mush just sitting around the house all day. Did you actually think you’d be able to get away with speaking like that to an Overlord of Hell?

There had to be a way out of this place. Had to. But the more you thought about it, the more impossible it felt. Even if you did manage to get out of the building in one piece, Vox had this entire city under constant watch. Every corner of Pentagram City was crawling with his tech and media. It would take minutes if not seconds for him to find you and bring you back by force. At this point, maybe you should just sign a contract with the douchebag. Surely, he’d get bored of you eventually, right? Maybe if you got lucky he’d even get killed off one of these days in an extermination, and you’d be off the hook completely.

But how long would that take? Decades? A century or two? What if he never tired of you? Eternal death or not, you didn’t want to spend that much time living and sleeping with some psycho you hated. No. That wasn’t an option. You weren’t going to do that. But what then? You had thought he was going to literally rip your head off just a few minutes ago for telling him no. You were pretty sure things weren’t going to get less volatile around here if you kept rejecting him.

You wiped at your tear soaked face with a tissue and tossed it across the room. It’s light material just sent it floating to the ground though. It looked as pathetic as you felt.

“Damn it,” you cursed, smashing your head into a throw pillow and lying back down, “I hate this fucking place.”

[capseycartwright]

can't ignore the crazy visions of me in la

Margarita-drunk Buck ruminates on how beautiful Eddie Diaz is while his best friend is dancing to Chappell Roan. That's what LA pride is for, right? - or, alternatively: Eddie spends his first pride as an out queer man in a gay club, and Buck is in love with him about it.

written for week one of @summerofbuddie- mixed media. the mixed media part of this fic is eddie's big gay playlist, and is full of what i believe to be all of eddie's favourite queer music. pls enjoy.

ao3 link

Buck had always thought that Eddie was beautiful. He knew how that sounded – but even when he had thought he was straight, Buck had always felt quite comfortable in his masculinity. Men were beautiful. Okay, sure, with the benefit of hindsight, it was long-buried bisexuality threatening to burst to the surface, but the point stood: Eddie Diaz had always been beautiful to Buck. 

Physically, yes, he was beautiful. He had these big brown eyes that had always been incredibly effective at getting Buck to do all the things Eddie didn’t want to do –  small things, like driving (of course, because Eddie was a passenger princess at heart, and Buck was more than happy to indulge), and cooking, until Eddie had begun to find a love for that himself, and the bigger things too, like agreeing to be Eddie’s medical proxy, and being Christopher’s guardian in case – well, Buck didn’t like to articulate the rest of that one. It felt like jinxing it, so he always left it at ‘in case’ – nothing else needed to be said.

Eddie was physically beautiful – he had the softest brown hair Buck had ever come across, and a sweet grin that got him more than his fair share of attention on calls, and firefighting had packed on a lot of muscle over the years, so maybe he wasn’t the proud owner of an eight-pack, anymore, but Eddie’s body was strong, and capable, and Buck felt that was beautiful too. 

Eddie was gorgeous, was the thing – but he wasn’t just physically beautiful. Eddie Diaz had a really beautiful personality, too. It had taken a while for him to allow Buck to get to know it – and not just Buck, for everyone else, too – but when Eddie had decided to let people in, and see who he truly was, underneath the somewhat gruff exterior, there has been so much beauty there. Eddie was kind, kind in a way that Buck could only admire, genuine in his kindness. Buck could see where Christopher got it from.

Eddie was gentle, too. Buck knew most people would doubt that, given the life Eddie led – an army veteran with a penchant for street fighting and Muay Thai – but Buck knew better. Those were all circumstances, responses to a life filled with trauma, and underneath all of that, Eddie was the gentlest person he knew. Eddie would always be the one who carefully picked up spiders, and bees, if they found their way into the firehouse, or Buck’s apartment, or his own home, and he’d coo gently as he brought them to the window, setting them free before anyone (Buck, usually) could hit them with a stray hardback novel. Eddie liked to garden, a collection of brightly coloured flowers growing in the front bed right outside his porch, Eddie humming to himself as he watered them, the image one Buck hoped would be seared into his memory forever.

Eddie was gentle with Christopher. Buck hadn’t exactly grown up with a father he aspired to be like – Philip had been cold, and distant, and though Buck understood why now, he would never forgive it. Eddie had been through his fair share of heartbreak, and trauma, and yet he still raised Christopher with a gentle hand, guiding his son through life in a way Buck had never experienced himself. He was glad to be able to watch it, though, watch as Eddie learned from his own mistakes, and apologised to Chris, and did better for his son every day. 

Eddie was gentle with Buck.

Buck was a lot, he knew – he was loud, and talkative, and the undiagnosed ADHD he definitely had made it so both of those qualities were amplified when he was stressed, or anxious, which was frankly, a lot of the time. Buck knew he earned his eyerolls and exasperated looks – but never from Eddie. Eddie always listened, attentive and eager to learn as Buck went off on tangent about the latest fun thing he learned. Eddie was the first to suggest a gym session, when he knew Buck was antsier than normal, suggesting they work off some of his nervous energy before their next call.

Eddie had been there after the truck bombing, gentle as he had torn down Buck’s already shaky walls, gentle as he helped Buck in, and out of bed, gentle as he’d helped him shower, shrugging off Buck’s thanks with a ‘you’d do the same for me’ and a smile. 

(Buck would do the same for Eddie – he would do anything for Eddie.)

Eddie was beautiful. Eddie was beautiful when he smiled, when he laughed, Eddie was beautiful in every single conceivable way to Buck –

But this might be the most beautiful Buck had ever seen his best friend.

read the rest on ao3

[lilacerull0]

that kindled her, she lighted up

Lila's love for learning and Lila's love for people in her life are identical and come from the same place. This is rather unusual and she is consistently transformed into something either less or more than human for it. She is made out to be less than human when her love for people more closely resembles love one might have for an idea or a book or a city. She is made out to be more than human when her love for learning more closely resembles love for a person in its intensity, dedication and passion. Both of these things inspire a fascination that turns sour in others who in return want to make this part of Lila dissappear. It's only with Enzo that she gets to be this way, not only without having it be a bad thing, but also having it be something that she can share and enjoy in the presence of the other.

[teddybeartoji]

me and suguru me and suguru me and suguru... mm maybe it's a few days after our first kiss (which isn't even a proper kiss btw i'll talk abt that soon too dw) and the air between us is just a little weird bc neither of us has yet to bring it up....

and now we haven't seen each other for the whole day too bc we both had stuff to do but. we have this Event in the evening and we're both supposed to attend alongside with satoru and shoko...

suguru's the last to arrive and by that time all three of us are a little tipsy already, laughing loudly at one of the tables together. he sees me throwing my head back, cackling at one of satoru's stupid jokes and suguru pokes the side of his cheek with his tongue. he hasn't seen me in a dress. ever. and now he's forced to take all of that in with the side of me boosting satoru's ego by going along with everything he says.

when he finally joins the table, his hand rests on the backrest of mine, his body towering over me as he teases satoru over smth aaand when i tilt my head back to look at him he glances at me and i die. thank you for listening to my tedtalk. no but yeah i blush and just try to keep my composure bc that shit is embarrassing as fuck he should not be having such an effect on me jfc.

he sits way too close to me too. mind you, we haven't talked properly in like two days. his hand stays behind my back for the rest of the night, his thigh bumping against mine as he manspreads on his seat (😒😒) but the second he sees me roll my shoulders and squeeze my eyes shut, the first signs of me getting tired, he leans closer to, his lips brushing against my ear. "want to go outside, hm?"

shoko gives me an awfully Knowing smirk but i go with him anyway (obviously).

(his hand stays glued to my lower back for the entire time he guides me through the crowd.)

i rest against the wall of the building and he stands in front of me, a few strands of his hair falling from their slicked back place as he places a cig between his lips. he lights it while keeping eye-contact. he's got that grin on his face. i hate it (he looks so fucking good).

he takes a step, now standing tall and proud right there in my own personal space. he's way too close. but it's not like i'd ever push him away. so he stays; inhales the smoke and then exhales it to the side. and then he's raising his hand to me and places the stick between my lips without a word. he watches how i breathe it in in slow motion. he can smell my perfume. i blow the smoke in his face and all he does is stare at me with that look on his face.

"you gonna kiss me again?"

"you want me to?"

i want to punch him.

"oh, fuck off."

he hums, his eyes flicking to my lips when he sees the corners twitching, an annoyed smile threatening to break out.

"you look really pretty... " his words trail off, his eyes heavy as they meet mine.

"yeah?"

"yeah... " his fingertips dance on my waist, treading on thin ice, on the thin fabric of my dress and i just wish i could crack open his head and see what he's thinking about. i swear he's even closer now; i can hear him taking in another puff of the cigarette and i can feel the warmth of his body against mine. i can feel his thigh pressing against mine. "i missed you, you know?"

okay, so i really want to punch him.

"and who's fault is that, hm?"

his grin stretches wider. he likes it when i push back, talk back. fight back. it makes this little game of his even more fun.

but before he can trap me with his sweet, honeyed words, the door slams open and out stumble shoko and satoru, their arms locked as they talk way too loudly. i turn to look at them, suguru doesn't. inhale.

he hums to himself again as he holds back on the urge to push my hair behind my shoulder to expose even more of my skin, his teeth itching at the mere thought.

exhale.

[xdacted]

not here

Pairing: Reader x Carlos Sainz Jr.

Warnings: pure 100% fluff, nothing but fluff, the tiniest hint of angst, but mostly fluff

Word Count: 500

Status: Completed

Carlos didn’t get to see her as often as he wanted. 

He didn’t even get to see her as often as he needed. There was always something pulling him away. Always a phone call to be taken, an autograph to be signed, an interview to be helped - always something. 

But not now. 

Not here. 

Not in the quiet hours of the morning, just before daybreak, the sun resting below the horizon. The moon cast pure light through the windows, moonbeams dancing across their sheets, stars twinkling beside them. Her arms curled around a pillow, legs tangled together. He didn’t know where he began and she ended, but he liked it that way. The lingering night breeze brushed against his bare skin, sweeping through the windows. The world outside fluttered awake, but Carlos had her here. 

Pressed to her back, arms tucked around her waist, buried in the thicket of her hair. Carlos couldn’t see her face, but he had memorized it. Each shadow, each line, each curve - each beautiful feature was committed to memory. The soft sound of her snores filled their room, her heartbeat steady against his skin. 

Not a thing could reach them here. 

He liked it that way. 

Carlos leaned down, pressing a chaste kiss to the exposed skin of her shoulder, “Hermosa.”

His voice was too quiet to wake her, but he liked to see her nose twitch at the sound. 

Beautiful. 

Moments like these, where the world seemed to still for just a second, made the distance agonizing. Separated by oceans, miles of land, hours of the day - it was painful. Race weekends were filled with exhilaration and adrenaline. Race weekends were also filled with a clawing sense of breathlessness. 

He couldn’t breathe. 

But here, laying beside her without a care in the world, he breathed. 

Carlos breathed. 

Inhaling the scent of her shampoo and the dying hints of her perfume, she filled his lungs.

He breathed. 

She turned in his arms with a heavy sigh, burrowing into his chest. Carlos couldn’t help but smile, tightening his arms around her. 

He didn’t see her as often as he wanted, but she was here now. 

Behind him, the sun began to rise, warmth trailing up his back. Soft rays crawled up the sky, spilling across her skin, and coiling in her hair. Carlos leaned down, pressing another kiss to her cheek and neck. She groaned, scrunching her eyebrows together. 

A gentle laugh rumbled from his chest, dropping another kiss to her nose, “Hermosa…”

“...stop watching me sleep…”

Her voice was scratchy and unused, the corner of her lip quirked to reveal the smallest hint of a smile. 

“But you’re so beautiful,” He whispered, nuzzling into her neck, “How can I help myself?”

A giggle fell from her lips like wind chimes singing together - beautiful. 

“It’s creepy,” She stretched, arms winding around his neck, “Better only be for me.”

“Of course,” He said, “No one but you.”

After all, not a thing could reach them. 

Not here. 

_____________________

A/N:This work has been cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. All are under the name XDACTED. Thank you for reading and feel free to request fics about any of the drivers <3

Also this is my attempt at trying to get out of my writing slump, it's short, it's sweet. I like it, so pls enjoy

[youngroyals-stuff]

[steve-s-slut]

They can't keep getting away with this

[sunatsubu]

In the Dark, Something More

Actually managed to write something! Inspired by @lost-in-derry's idea from kalluzeb discord, in a fun thread speculating about lasat night vision

"What if Kallus knows Zeb can see in the dark but not how well: Zeb and Kallus are in some kind of dark cave/place and Kallus can’t see so Zeb offers to hold his hand. And Kallus is like, “It’s ok, he won’t be able to see how flustered this makes me” but Zeb ABSOLUTELY CAN"

many thanks to @hayesflint and @solsilverpine for proofreading and encouragement <3

[12romy]

GUYS GUYS GUYS I FINISHED WRITING THE SEBCHAL FIC I'VE BEEN WORKING ON FOR TWO YEARS