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goldenwitherphoenix13 · 11 months

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A long post is under the cut, but I think we, as a fandom, moved on far too quickly from the endings of empires smp season 2.

Almost everyone got a happy ending.

Fwhip resigned from the role of the Goblin king.

Joel accended to true God hood.

Sausage grew old in sanctuary and raised Hermes to be an interdimentional warrior.

Gem finished Dawn and chose to stay in Hermitcraft because it was the best choice.

Katherine cured the curse plaguing her land.

Joey got to go on all sorts of adventures after defeating his arch-nemesis Skeletron.

Pix, while not finishing his work, got to tell the story of the ancient ruins.

Lizzie created a fully functioning city of animals to live as they want.

Shelby became one of the most powerful witches and got that date with Katherine.

Scott went off into the sunset with Owen to discover new lands and treasures to steal.

Heck, even Oli got out of debt, even if he ended up accidentally time travelling.

And while False never uploaded her finale, we can easily infer that she continued to expand her empire and make her name for herself.

Who did I miss?

Sheriff Jimmy.

The sheriff, who all the other emperors abandoned. The sheriff, nearly loosing his own identity to a joke. The sheriff, who lost his town to the fae.

Let's not forget Jimmy never left tumble town willingly. He was booted out when the fae corrupted his lands, spreading it throughout his home. He and the old sheriff, Roswell, made the best of a bad situation. I mean, what else can they do? Fight the fae? Fae are powerful creature. Not to be messed with. Fighting them is a one-way ticket to death if they don't decide to hold you a prisoner in their realm.

Jimmy also never got the chance to say goodbye to anyone. Everyone had already left him behind. Joel had accended without saying goodbye to his supposed best bud. Sausage never thought to check in on tumble town. There was no final passing of words—just a note from Fwhip.

And, let's not forget this big bit of information, the thing that still grinds my gears about empires season 2. He is the only villain of season 2 who got no closure, redemption or apology. Shelby was uncorrupted and saved. Sausage supreme was fused into Sausages soul. Skeletron was killed by Katherine, Joey and Shelby. They all got an end to their villainy, wether through being saved or killed.

Jimmy got nothing.

His ending was, in multiple ways, left unfinished. He was still bitter towards the emperors. He was still lacking any human respect. He wasn't given any apology or forgiveness. He was forced out of his home by powerful creatures, trying his best to make good of the darkness left to him.

But it's not all darkness. This isn't a bad ending. I think this end has an underlying subtext not even Jimmy planned for. Something I've seen almost no one talking about.

The sheriff walked away from a toxic environment.

Now is an excellent time to remind you that this is all about the characters. Not the actual content creators. Got it? Good.

Let's be honest. None of the characters in Empires Season 2 were 100% innocent besides maybe Katherine. Some were thieves. Some were filled with pride, some made dubious choices, and some were even a little corrupt. And Jimmy isn't an exception. He was a lil bit dishonest with power sometimes and a lil bit prideful in his name. But the sheriff wasn't evil at first. He still did things to help people. He helped Katherine arrest Joey for theft. He did his best to follow the rules, and he actively sought to stop those committing crimes and try to understand the issue at hand, like with Shelby. And his reward. Constant teasing and mockery.

Everyone, including his allies, still made fun of him. Even his best bud said things behind his back. And this is what made him snap. Not the jokes, but that no one, not even his allies, seemed to show any human decency to him.

And he never got an apology or a moment to put them in their place to tell them that they have done goofed. The sheriff was barely given a chance to build, hardly a chance to breathe. He knows he probably couldn't take them in a fight, but they didn't even give him a chance to talk. They made him sit there and take it like he had no choice.

The sheriff instead chose to walk away. Everyone had left him behind. And with the threat of the fae above him, he decided that the best course of action was to leave the toxic lands behind. Lands full of pranks and mistakes that would only ever remind him of his negative attributes.

The sheriff stayed with the one person who ever showed him any sliver of true friendship—the old sheriff. The old sheriff helped reverse the effects of the lore potion with an unnamed potion he found at Shelbys. He helped Jimmy defend the town from a raid. He stayed with him through thick and thin. Sure, he isn't the best influence, but he's better than the world around them.

Ultimately, Jimmy's finale wasn't the good ending like everyone else's. Villains rarely ever get those. Instead, it's a bittersweet goodbye from the two sheriffs off to find a new home far away to the lands of one that brought sorrow, even if at least one of them has some anger issues to work through.

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word-wytch · 1 year

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Don't Stand So Close To Me — Chapter 5

Eddie x Teacher!Reader

Chapter 5/? 3.2k. Series Masterlist

✏︎ A lesson in rock history and the things you can say with a thumb.

✏︎ Series Summary: Forced to move back home to Hawkins after your fiancé cheats on you, you begin to fall in love again with an audacious 20 year old metalhead, only there’s one problem — he’s still in high school and you’re his English teacher.

While you struggle starting over in a place you never thought you would return, Eddie struggles feeling stuck in a place he can’t manage to leave — until you offer to help him. Of all the lessons learned, the most important are the ones you teach each other.

✏︎ Series CW: forbidden romance, slow burn, smut (18+ mdni), true love, internal conflict, student-teacher relationship, 10 year age gap, mutual pining, sexual tension, emotions, drama, angst, character development, happy ending :)

Chapter warnings: drinking mention

“Happy Monday!” chimed Ms. Click, fixing her coffee on the counter in the teacher’s lounge. “How was your weekend, sweetie?”

You turned to her as you nestled the glass coffee pot back onto the warmer. “Oh, you know. Just catching up on errands and chores. Same old, same old.” Oh, and wrestling with thoughts I really shouldn’t be having about my student. You figured it was best to leave that part out. Though if you were being totally honest you had done more of that than anything else this weekend. You couldn’t believe yourself.

“Oh I hear ya, it’s real easy for things like that to just take over. Pretty soon you feel like you’re just living the same week over and over again and then whoops! 20 years go by!” she said with a loud and slightly pained laugh.

You smiled weakly. “Yeah, time really does fly.”

“It does if you’re not careful! You’ve got to treasure every precious moment while you can,” she said, giving a gentle pat on your forearm before turning to leave.

“I try to,” you said, turning to open a new carton of milk for your coffee. You watched it swirl as you poured it in and thought about Eddie Munson again. You wondered what a what a weekend was like for him, what sort of trouble he might get into. You thought about him cruising down the road in his van at night, blasting his music and driving way over the speed limit — not a care in the world. You thought about being a passenger, about laughing with him as he took his hands off the wheel to play air guitar to a song you didn’t recognize.

“Hey!” she said Diane in a little whisper, waving her hand between you and your coffee.

You jolted upward and turned to her. “Oh hey! Sorry, I’m a total space cadet today apparently.”

“It’s Monday, you’re allowed,” she said with a warm chuckle. She leaned back against the coffee station. “Sooo, your birthday is on Friday. It’s the big 3-0 right? Have any plans?”

Yes, that. You hadn’t forgotten, though you secretly wished you had. “I’m shocked you remembered!”

“Well, birthdays are circled on the office calendar,” she said, folding her arms with a little smirk, “I can’t give myself that much credit, but we should really do something. It’s a big one.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Honestly I hadn’t given it much thought.”

“There’s always Pal Joey’s. At the very least I can bake you a cake and we can just get drunk together, right?” she said with a playful chuckle.

You laughed, “Yeah, I don’t need anything extravagant. Just something low key would be nice. Actually, I have a friend I haven’t seen since I moved back over the summer. She’s been busy with her small kids, I bet she’d appreciate getting out for a night.”

“That’s the spirit! Ok, got any preference for cake flavors?”

You thought for a moment, a smile playing on your lips as you brought a curved finger to them, “Surprise me.”

______

You set off down the main hallway like you did every morning, careful not to slosh the remainder of your coffee too hard as you walked. You dodged the usual obstacles — kids with headphones on not paying attention, couples leaning against their lockers, jocks giving a football a few passes before another teacher reprimanded them.

You were about halfway there when you smelled it — cigarette smoke. Not the sort of smoke left over on clothing, but actual active smoke coming from someone nearby. You glanced around to see if you could catch a plume and that was when you saw him.

You didn’t know his name but he must have been a junior at least. He was more than six feet tall, an athlete, as you could tell from varsity jacket he had on.

“Hey! No smoking in the hallway,” you said firmly as you approached him at the lockers.

He looked at you like you were a small child threatening to tattle on him. “Or what?”

“Or I’m giving you detention. Put it out, now.”

He rolled his eyes at you, “Ooh, so scary.” His friends around him chuckled.

You swallowed, feeling small all of a sudden. “I’m serious, put it out right now.”

“Jeez, calm down, bitch.” His friends erupted in laughter, practically tripping over themselves now.

Your eyes narrowed, heart beating into your throat.

“The fuck did you just call her?” a voice cut through from behind you.

You recognized it before you whipped your head around to see him. “Eddie —”

He marched up to the athlete in front of you. “Here, let me make it easier for you.” He snatched the cigarette out of his mouth and threw it on the ground to stomp it out. There were daggers in his eyes. “Say it again.”

He looked at Eddie with a mixture of shock and confusion. “Jeez since when are you a goody two-shoes, Munson?”

“Principal’s office, now,” you said, pointing at the athlete.

He rolled his eyes again. “You gonna have your pet escort me?”

You glanced over at Eddie, you could practically feel the heat coming off of him as he glowered behind you like a shadow. “No, I can do that myself, unless you’d rather have security escort you. Your choice.”

He sighed. “Fine, Jesus.”

“I can take it from here, Eddie. Thank you.”

He glanced back and forth between the two of you, looking hesitant. “If you say so,” he conceded softly.

You smiled at him with gracious eyes, then turned to the athlete. “Come on.”

Eddie bent down to grab the cigarette off the floor, his eyes did not leave you.

“I can take that,” you said, extending your hand.

He placed the flattened cigarette into your palm, slow enough for you to feel the calluses on his fingers as they lingered for a short moment. Yours curled around them just enough to brush the back of his knuckles as his hand left yours, as if they had a mind of their own. Your heart skipped a beat and you found the courage to meet his gaze again.

“Thank you.”

He bowed his head slightly, “Sure thing.” His eyes were dark and intense, like there was something more he wanted to say.

You swallowed and broke his gaze. “Alright, let’s get going before I’m late for my own class.”

You walked swiftly toward the principal’s office, the two of you silent in the noisy din of the hallway as the athlete kept pace reluctantly beside you. You were halfway down the hall when you felt the urge to glance over your shoulder.

Eddie was still standing where you left him, still as a statue amidst the chaos of the hallway, watching you with careful eyes.

______

Eddie watched you from the back of your fourth period English class, as he did every day.

He watched as you as you paced about, the way you leaned against the desk as you sifted through your notes. He noticed how thoughtfully you chose your words, how eloquently you spoke.

He wondered what you were like outside of school — what you would be like at a concert, a bar, a restaurant, a movie. He wondered what sort of observations you would make about the world around you. What sort of things you would want to talk about outside the strict confines of this building, outside your role in it. You were always so good at keeping the face you’d put on that morning. He wanted to see you without it.

Wanted to see you first thing in the morning, the sleep still in your eyes. Wanted to see you in pajamas making coffee. Wanted to feel the warmth of your skin still heated from your bed, to peer over your shoulder as you cooked your eggs, to tickle you until you turned around to kiss him.

“In chapters 13 though 15 we can see that he’s both too scared to call Jane and too scared to sleep with Sunny, even though deep down it seems he wants to. Holden alienates himself as a form of self-protection, which is a motif in the novel,” you explained. “A motif,” you scratched the word onto the board, “— is a recurring structure, contrast, or literary device that can help to inform the reader of the text’s major themes.”

You turned toward the board to finish writing the definition. It was then that Eddie saw Patrick’s arm extend behind him with a folded piece of paper that Jason promptly snatched.

You paused, glancing toward the back of the classroom at the movement.

Jason and Patrick froze like statues.

Your gaze lingered a moment, then you continued, turning toward the board again.

Eddie watched out of the corner of his eye as Jason opened the note slowly, trying to minimize the crinkle of the paper. He stifled a snicker and took his pen to it, scribbling in haste.

“Now, what are some other motifs that you may have noticed so far?” you asked, turning toward the class.

Jason froze again, sliding his notebook over the paper slowly, leaving some space to continue writing discreetly at the bottom.

Eddie felt his pulse rise and shot Jason a threatening glare.

Since when are you a goody two-shoes, Munson? The words rolled around in his head. As much as he hated to admit it, there was some truth to them.

The truth was that he had smoked in school before. More than once. The difference was he never got caught. He had been disrespectful on more than one occasion toward the faculty. He’d never called anyone names, but he’d certainly rolled his eyes, certainly given them a hard time. He’d sneak out, skip class, pass notes, run down the hallway — he even shot a spit ball at Gareth once, but only because he deserved it after flaking out on Hellfire because some girl invited him over to work on a project.

Jason caught Eddie’s glare and made a face at him, passing the note forward to Patrick who snickered when he opened it.

You whipped your head toward the back corner of the room and locked eyes with Patrick. “Excuse me, is something funny?”

Eddie’s eyes bored into his desk. He could feel the heat creeping up his neck.

“No ma’am, sorry,” said Patrick, straightening up.

Your eyes lingered a moment suspiciously but you let it go, sighing in annoyance as you turned back toward the board.

The note passing ceased after that.

It wasn’t until after the bell rang that both Jason and Patrick made eye contact with Eddie again. This time it was in the midst of laughter as they were leaving.

______

By the time Eddie Munson had plunked himself down in his usual spot on the other side of your desk, you were admittedly exhausted. You hated to be one of those pedestrian I hate Mondays people, but today really took it out of you for some reason.

Maybe it had something to do with the war you were waging in your mind over the man sitting across from you, but when you saw his sweet oval face again you felt the energy suddenly return to you, like a second wind. Like a breath of fresh air.

“Thank you for… intervening earlier today,” you said graciously as you filed away the papers on your desk, clearing the space.

Eddie gave a single nod. “I wanted to put it out on his face, but uh, pretty sure that’s also against the rules, so…” he said with a little chuckle.

Even behind his joking you could tell that he meant it. It stirred something in you, like a growling in the pit of your stomach. Something dormant and primal. You looked at his strong hands as he fidgeted with the pen in front of him, then your eyes traveled up to his forearms. He was wearing that flannel again with the sleeves rolled up and you wished you could ignore it, but instead you imagined what they would feel like wrapped protectively around your waist.

You cleared your throat and tucked your hair behind your ear. “Yeah, I’m afraid so,” you said with a little smile. “You know, you would think that after eight years of teaching I would be used to that sort of treatment but it still catches me off guard sometimes.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows curiously, “Eight years?” he asked. You could almost see him doing the math in his head.

Your stomach dropped. “Yeah, um, I actually turn 30 on Friday,” you said with a nervous chuckle.

Eddie balked, “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

He smirked, his eyes narrowing, “No way. I mean — sorry, it’s not a bad thing! It’s just hard to believe is all.”

“You want to see my drivers license?”

Eddie laughed, “No, no. It’s just that… you don’t seem like it to me. Not looks wise anyway. Maturity wise you’re probably closer to uh, 500 — you know, like an elf.”

You snorted. “Thanks. That’s so much better.”

“No, I mean like Arwen old, not Galadriel old,” he said, stumbling over himself. “Sorry I’ll stop, I’m a dumbass. It doesn’t matter. It’s just a number anyway.”

There was a strange relief that came over you when he said that, more than you wanted to admit to yourself.

You had to laugh. “Arwen old, now that’s something you don’t hear every day.”

“Well, take it as a compliment. I mean you’re —” he gestured to you, up and down with his hand, his eyes widening.

You knew what he was going to say. No, you wanted to think you knew, but did you really know? You knew you shouldn’t press but you wanted to hear it. Your mouth betrayed you. “I’m what?” you asked softly.

Eddie swallowed. “You’re…” he blinked, his dark eyes darting back and forth between yours. You could see the gears turning in his head, weighing the options of what to say next. “You’re timeless.”

Timeless. Now that was a word you were not expecting. Not too bold like beautiful, or cheap like pretty. You were tempted to commend him on his vocabulary choice.

“Timeless,” you said in quiet awe as a smile crept across your face. “I’ll take that.”

Eddie relaxed into his chair, seeming pleased with himself.

“Alright, what’s on the agenda for today?” There was a guilt that nagged at you for prompting such an intimate moment with your student, but then again, was he not the one who prompted it with his gesture? Still, it was your responsibility to be the bigger person, you knew that. And yet…

Eddie was doing well enough in your class. He was turning in his homework and did well on the last quiz. Today you decided to focus on History again since that seemed to be his biggest challenge, which meant that Eddie was now seated beside you — and that was another challenge.

Eddie Munson had a way of being around you that was hard to ignore. It was the way he looked at you from beneath his lashes, the way he almost put his shoulder behind yours as you both crowded over the textbook. You swore you weren’t imagining it.

It was when you pointed at a line in the text, the way he inched closer to it, turned his head toward you ever so slightly, his face inches from yours.

You could smell him again. The sweet musk of his skin, the soft scent of whatever he put in his hair. He was so close you could feel the gentle puff of his breath against your face. Your curious eyes dropped to his lips — so incredibly plush with a perfect cupid’s bow. Your animal brain betrayed you and you imagined, for just a split second, what they would feel like against yours. What he would taste like.

You cleared your throat, face flushing as you broke the tension. “So, did you do anything fun this weekend?”

There was a gleam in Eddie’s eyes. “Yeah, actually. Mercyful Fate was playing in Indianapolis on Saturday. Really good show.”

You nodded curiously, “Hmm, I’ve never heard of them.”

Eddie smirked, “Yeah, I figured not. I mean — most people haven’t unless they’re into metal. Which, I don’t want to make any assumptions, but…” he chuckled.

“You’re correct,” you said with a little laugh.

His eyes were tender, “What kind of music are you into?”

You hummed and glanced down at the textbook again thoughtfully, “Let’s see… I like all sorts of stuff. Older stuff like Van Morrison and Simon and Garfunkel, newer stuff like The Police and Tears for Fears. Oh and I love Joni Mitchell, especially Joni Mitchell. Her music is poetry, truly.”

Eddie hummed thoughtfully, “All good artists.”

“I mean I’m not opposed to metal. I just haven’t heard enough of it I guess. I do really like rock music, actually I love Led Zeppelin. I mean that’s not metal but,” you said in jest making the rock horn symbol with your hand.

Eddie laughed, eyes crinkling, looking at you like you were an adorable child who just said something funny. His hands came around yours impulsively, tucking your extended thumb in across your two middle fingers. “Like this,” he said sweetly.

You swallowed, face flushing. His hands were so warm, the softness of his palms surprised you. They lingered for a moment, clutching your hand before letting go to demonstrate.

“This,” he formed the symbol with his hand, “Means rock. This?” extended his thumb, “Means ‘I love you’ in sign language.”

You chuckled, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Rookie mistake I guess.”

“It’s ok, it’s a common one. It’s not exactly been around for that long. Dio was actually the one who started doing it like five or so years ago. See, he’s super Italian and his grandma would do it like this as a sort of… spell, I guess, to keep the evil eye away.” He demonstrated, pointing his horns at you. “But then Dio kept doing it on stage, sort of adapted it into a symbol for rock.”

You nodded curiously, “See, you’re teaching me something now.”

He smiled, “I do know a few things, might not exactly be useful things, but…”

“All knowledge is useful. In fact I think it’s a shame that we place so much value on grades. I mean honestly, most of this stuff you’re not even going to need to know to get through life. I can tell you that for a fact. I mean I know I’m not supposed to be saying that, but…”

Eddie nodded, his eyes were soft and distant. “I wish more people thought like you.”

You could feel the heat rushing to your face again. You met his eyes and smiled softly.

You turned your attention back to the history textbook. After another twenty minutes, when it was clear that your attention spans were starting to wane, you called it for the evening.

You and Eddie left together again, out to the parking lot through the shortcut by the gym. Not a soul in sight in the hallway. He held the door open for you as you left.

Eddie was parked next to you this time.

“See you tomorrow,” you said, waving at him over the top of your little car as you unlocked it. The autumn wind kicked up, tousling your hair and scattering leaves across the parking lot.

“See ya,” he said, throwing open the door to his van.

He flashed you the rock horns again — thumb extended.

______

A/N: I just wanted to take this moment to thank every single one of my incredible readers — you guys. Every person who comments and shares each week, even the people who don't. I see your little hearts and it fills me with such joy. I am so lucky to have such a thoughtful audience that I can engage with and gush about my story with in real time. You make me feel like Charles Dickens.

My hope for this story is that it can reach as large an audience as possible, so if you can help me do that by sharing it, I would be endlessly grateful. I love you guys. 💚

Quick side note — if you don't see your name listed here but asked to be tagged it's because it would not let me tag you and I wanted to make room for the tags that are working!! tumblr only lets me tag a certain number of people so the list will be continued in the comments!

Taglist: @mermaidsandcats29 @toxicjayhoo @ooo-protean-ooo @jadequeen88 @wroteclassicaly @inknopewetrust @msgexymunson @bebe0701 @latenighttalkingwithgrapejuice @bibieddiesgf @idkidknemore @alizztor @godcreatoreli @shotgunhallelujah @ethereal27cereal @munsonsgirl71 @luna-munson83 @eddiemunsonsbitcch @tlclick73 @emxxblog @siriusmuggle @sidthedollface2 @dollalicia @lma1986 @catherinnn @maximizedrhythms @eddiemunson4life420 @readsalot73 @ruby-dragon @3rriberri @princess-eddie @nightless @eddiemunson011 @eddieswifu @thew0rldsastage @quinnsfineline @chaoticgood-munson @edsforehead @hanahkatexo @eddiemunsonsbedroom @chainsawmunson @beep-beep-sherlock @emily-roberts @averagemisfit03 @slay-and-gay @vintagehellfire @haylaansmi @newlips @munsins @sllooney @lunaladybug734

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson older reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x teacher!reader #don't stand so close to me #my writing

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darklydeliciousdesires · 3 months

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La Dolce Vita - John Shelby/Cosima Changretta (OFC).

So, I decided to begin this new little series of mine, besties. It shan't be delivered in regular chapter form, but a series of one-shot parts that will tell the story of John and Cosima's marriage, beginning from their wedding day. I hope you enjoy it :)

Words - 3,682

Warnings - Each part will be adult only content, from swearing to eventual smut and violence. Minors DNI.

Part I - Inferno

The blood of a thousand men could stain a thousand streets, cold, hard warfare spinning out of control in a haze of spatter and gunpowder, yet sometimes all it took was the presence of a woman to end it all.

And it had.

It didn’t mean the woman in question had to like it, though.

“No.” The word fell from his lips with mild irritation as he took in the sight before him. “You will not wear black.”

Cosima didn’t even attempt to hide her distain. “Why not? This is a death, after all.”

Luca couldn’t help but feel entertained by her words, even though she was rapidly whittling him down to his very last nerve. “You are so dramatic, la mia sorellina.” She always had been. “It’s about time you were somebody’s wife, and you will make a good wife, too. Every man betrothed to an Italian woman should recognise how damned lucky he is.”

“And me?” Her cadence rose sharply, her voice bordering on shrill. “What about me, Luca?”

9:23am and already, he wished he’d had the sense to bring some aspirin with him. “You will do as you are told, Sima. And wear white while you do it.”

The silky drawl of her brother never rose beyond the smooth hush he spoke with, but his words packed the same punch as they would have had he yelled them. He was also the only person alive who she allowed to shorten her name. People had called her Cos in school, swiftly ending up with a slapped face for it. Her Italian fire had been lit pretty much since the day she’d been born. “I wish I’d brought mama with me now.”

His lip curled, a soft rumble of a laugh echoing his throat, sucking on the matchstick he pulled from between his lips as he pointed it at her. “We both know why you didn’t.”

“Yes,” she chirped, admiring her reflection in the mirror, “you’re paying.”

Again, she prompted his smile. Few did, really, save Anna Maria, his wife, as well as his sons, Joey and Guiseppe. “I am, cara mia. Listen, if you want the black dress, I’ll buy it for you. You won’t be married in it, though. Imagine if mama was here, eh? She’d be, ah, much more vocal than I about it.”

This was true. Audrey would have taken over rather than sitting quietly like Luca. “I’m beginning to think she’d fuss much less than you.”

He rolled his eyes. “Try on the next dress, for the love of god.”

Huffing and cussing in their native tongue, Cosima flounced back behind the privacy screen, getting herself out of the dress, the nearby assistant helping her into the white lace gown. Her face was a picture of utter contempt upon emerging, raising her middle finger when Luca quietly applauded her appearance.

“Perfect.”

“I fucking hate it,” she sneered, the assistant’s eyes bulging a little at her coarse language.

“Cosima, you would hate even the most exquisite of gowns, crafted by the finest of designers,” he pointed out, standing and walking to her slowly. He reached beneath her chin, raising it up, placing a little kiss upon her forehead. “You look beautiful. La belladonna. It is done.”

His word was final, and she knew this well. It did not mean she had to be quiet or graceful in her compliance, though. Being wed to a Shelby, after all they had done, the war that had seen the deaths of both her treasured brother and beloved papa, was not a fate she relished in.

Negotiations in order to cease the bloodshed and forge ahead in a new bond, running Shelby gin into New York with the assistance of her family and their connections had been sealed by a proposed joining of their families through marriage. Her marriage, to John Shelby.

How she had screamed and complained when Luca had informed her of this truce sealing union. Glasses and ornaments had been smashed in tempestuous fury, Cosima’s ire reaching the kind of decibels that had taken Luca and Audrey much effort and nips of gin to quieten, the youngest of the Changretta clan storming from her mother’s home, walking the streets, chain smoking in blind fury.

The only silver lining? At least Luca had not decreed that she marry the man who had killed her father, not that she actually could. For his sins, Arthur Shelby breathed no longer. Neither did Grace Shelby, nor Esme Shelby, the late wife of the man soon to be her husband, the gypsy beauty getting in the way of a hit meant for John on Christmas Day and lamentably not surviving it.

And Cosima thought her hand dealt was bad. For John, it was decidedly bleaker by far.

His brother was gone, his wife was gone, his sister-in-law was gone, and his fate was now bound to a person belonging to a family whom he couldn’t stand with any ounce of tolerance. Tolerance was what he had to show, though, in order to keep relations smoothed over, before anybody else ended up dead.

“It’s a fresh start for us all, John boy,” Tommy began, standing in front of his brother, straightening his tie. “I don’t expect you to be happy about it, but...”

“Good, ‘cos I ain’t,” he cut in with, his jaw tightening, refusing to meet his brother’s eye. “Esme is barely fucking cold, and you’ve got me marrying some wop bitch. Trust me, Tom. I ain’t fucking happy in the slightest.”

The elder Shelby truly had no comeback for that. He knew his actions were a slap in the face to John, to Arthur, to Esme and to the love of his life, but there was no other way around it. He didn’t plan on losing anybody else to a war that could be negotiated through. It had been tough to bargain, but peace had been restored finally, Tommy reasoning that scores had been settled upon both sides of the divide.

They were more than even. In fact, they truly weren’t, two lives on the Changretta side, three on the Shelby, two innocent women coming into the crossfire and dying because of it. He was not prepared to lose more. If he could also turn a very tidy profit while not losing more, then so be it.

Finally, he managed to catch the icy stare of his brother, Tommy squeezing his shoulders. “Give it time. At least you’re getting wed to an attractive woman. Could have matched you to a right scrag, but I didn’t.”

She could have been the queen of fucking Sheba for all John cared. Her beauty or lack thereof was neither here nor there. She wasn’t Esme, and that was all there was to it. “Gotta habit of this, you have, marrying me off to some bird I ain’t ever clapped eyes on until I get to the altar, all for the sake of keeping the peace.”

There hadn’t been an actual altar at his wedding to Esme, but this time there was no room for negotiation. The priest local to the district Cosima Changretta lived in had been given a hefty bung to marry them, regardless of the fact that John was a non-practising Catholic. Usually, Father David would have required he at least attend weekly mass for a few months prior to the wedding, but this wasn’t possible when the union had been set up to take place within the space of a week from its original incarnation.

Through his disesteem, John wasn’t blind to see the benefits of joining the families in order to broker peace, though. He just wished there was some other way, one that didn’t involve him forsaking his late wife’s memory, or literally getting into bed with a member of the very family who had taken three members of his.

With a red rose buttonhole pinned to his charcoal suit – those specific flowers at Cosima’s request – they headed out to the waiting car, ready to be ferried across Birmingham to the district of Bournville, to St Francis of Assisi.

“Holy shit, the waft of that bloody chocolate," Polly spoke from the back of the car, the famous Cadbury factory emitting the heady scent of it’s delicious confectionary. “Making my mouth water, it is.”

“Well, as long as the air smells like Dairy fucking Milk, all’s right as rain, ain’t it, Pol?” John muttered, watching the little black and white houses dotted along the main road pass them by. It was such a different landscape than the one he was used to, the village of Bournville so very picturesque and quaint.

Polly tutted. “Oi, less of your fucking lip, our John. Don’t make today any harder than it has to be by being a surly shit about it.”

“Yeah, but...”

She cut his protests dead with her usual blunt retort. “We know, for the love of god! You’ve vented your spleen so hard at this, I’m surprised you have one left! This isn’t ideal, but it’ll bring us peace and let me rest my fucking head easy at night, not worrying when the next of my fucking nephew’s is going to end up riddled with bullet holes. Now, put your fucking face straight. We’re nearly there.”

He could have begun his protests once more, vented at how it wasn’t right that he was being thrown into wedlock again just four months after his second wife had died, how at thirty years old, he shouldn’t have already had to attend the funerals of two Mrs. Shelby’s, but he knew it would serve him little good.

Arriving at the church, they made their way inside, John surprised to be greeted kindly by Audrey Changretta, who was standing talking to the verger.

“A lot of water has gone under the bridge, John. All I want going forward is for you to be a good man to my Cosima. Can you do that for me, love?”

His heartstrings were yanked upon hard, knowing how much his actions had devastated her. She looked weary from it all, the sparkle in her eyes non-existent. He’d never wanted her to be hurt in all of this, the teacher he held so many fond memories of, the woman he had steadfastly refused to murder in cold blood. “I can. I promise I will.”

She patted his cheek, smiling thinly. That smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, and for that he couldn’t blame her. “Thank you.” She exchanged nods with Polly and Tommy, the Shelby’s moving into the church, smiling to their family and friends as they passed the pews, the Changretta presence outnumbering them by about two to one.

He and Tommy stood to the side of the altar, Polly taking a seat at the first pew between Finn and Ada, the latter giving the groom-to-be a bolstering smile. It had little of its desired effect, John feeling a cold swirl of discomfort growing chillier by the moment. “Forgive me, Esme. I fucking wish this weren’t happening just as much as I wish you were still here, love.”

His deeply lamenting thoughts were banished by the sound of the organ keys pressed upon, the church filling with music as the congregation stood, Father David quickly shaking both his and Tommy’s hands before his focus shifted towards the doors, beaming as he watched Cosima escorted in by her brother. The bride looked exquisite in her white lace gown, her cascading veil shrouding her face, the dress very quintessentially Italian in fashion.

John didn’t dare turn around and watch her walk to him, only aware of her arrival at his side from the strong plume of Chanel perfume entering his nose, finally turning to see Luca gently lift her veil, kissing her cheek and whispering a few words in Italian to her. He then moved to John, surprising him by offering his hand.

“To famiglia, eh?”

“Yeah,” he coughed, shaking it. The Italian’s grip was like Iron, his face unflinching. There was no true warmth there. “To family.”

Luca moved to sit at his mother’s side, John finally letting his eyes fall to his left, taking her in for the first time. His throat tightened in an instant. He’d thought Esme to be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, the guilt of the fact that Cosima Changretta was the biggest knockout he’d ever witnessed hitting him hard.

As for his soon to be wife, when her piercing blue eyes found his, the sensation of her heart skipping on three consecutive beats made her feel a little nauseous for a moment.

He was gorgeous.

Why did he have to be gorgeous? It would have made hating him so much easier if he’d been ugly.

“At least I will have something nice to look at, while I’m throwing plates at his head.” She thought, turning to the priest and smiling as best she could, given the circumstances.

The ceremony was a long, tedious affair, the bride wishing for a traditional mass that bored the balls off John. He did well to hide it, though. What he failed miserably at was looking in any way, shape or form happy when they were pronounced man and wife, offering her a chaste kiss to the cheek, a speedy peck of non-affection. Cosima was relieved he hadn’t leaned to her mouth. She wasn’t ready for that yet.

Taking his arm, she walked back down the aisle as the newest member of the Shelby family, her eyes sad as she looked at her mother and brother. They smiled at her with loving pride, Cosima dropping her chin, lest they see the tears in her eyes as she walked alongside her new husband, a man she couldn’t stand. True, she knew nothing of John Shelby, other than what he’d had a hand in taking from her.

With every step, she had to physically prevent herself from gathering the bridal lace swathing her slender curves and running, back to Acacia Road, back to the family home. This was where she desired to be, out in the flower filled back garden tending to her roses, taking cuttings of herbs ready to be brought into the kitchen and tutored by her darling mother in everything from Carbonara to baked Ziti.

She longed for the scents of her mother’s pasta, to hear her father’s key in the door, his whistled tunes filling the homestead as she’d wipe her hands upon her apron and run to greet him. Her papa, the man she loved and respected the very most. Gone.

“You erm, you look beautiful, Cosima.”

His face did not match his compliment, Cosima looking up at her new husband, her face stony. “I know. Shame my dream wedding didn’t come with the dream groom, though.”

John sniffed, his eyebrow tilting a fraction. “Ahh, you might still get it yet. We can get divorced and give it another go with other people. Who knows? I could nail it lucky the fourth time around.”

Her eyes widened. “You’ve been married twice before?”

“Ar.”

“And what the blinking hell happened to them?” she demanded, wondering just what her brother had gotten her into, marrying her off to a man who was on his third wife.

“They died, if you must know,” he frowned, reaching the end of the aisle, the door opening, a cascade of confetti hurled at them from the throng of guests exiting behind them.

“Lucky them.” Her mutter was drowned out by the sound of happy cheers, or at least she thought it had been. Her new husband had heard it, though, wanting nothing more than to slap her in her rude mouth for her coldly delivered statement.

“Great, got myself hitched to a stunner and she’s a right nasty little mare.” he spoke, certainly loud enough for her to hear, releasing the hold upon her arm and moving to receive congratulations from his family. Cosima narrowed her eyes at him in his wake, turning to smile brightly at her friends, her hands taken in theirs, cheeks kissed, her heart thrumming with waves of sadness. A right nasty little mare. That’s what he thought of her, Cosima’s indignance burning brightly for a while, not able to reflect upon the fact that what she’d said had indeed been very spiteful.

At twenty-three, she truly should have known better. With two dead wives behind him and a bitterness that still lingered beneath the surface between the two families, she guessed he was likely as thrilled to be married to her as she was to him. An apology perhaps wouldn’t go amiss.

Once they’d posed for a few photographs, the bride and groom were shown to the waiting Rolls Royce Silver Cloud, John holding the door open for her, following her in and staring stonily out of the window as they pulled away from the church.

She felt awkward and ashamed of her words, moving her thumb back and forth over one of the large thorns the florist had neglected to remove from the bouquet of red roses. “John, I apologise for what I said, about your late wives being lucky. I only meant that... I don’t know what I meant, actually.”

She was met by a cold, two worded statement. “Fuck off.”

Deserved, to be fair. Predictably, Cosima let it spark at her kindling rather than rushing for water, though. “That’s impossible, now I’m your wife. Don’t bloody pout at me. I said something regrettable, but because of your family I don’t have Angel or my father any longer. You yourself are directly responsible for the former. If you hadn’t beaten him within an inch of his life, he wouldn’t have lay vulnerable in hospital, ripe for the plucking. And let’s not forget that scumbag of a brother of yours, who killed my papa.”

He tutted, chewing his toothpick with hostility. “Don’t act like you’re the only one who lost somebody you loved. Fucking gone right over your head, ain’t it? Because of your family, I lost me wife, brother and sister-in-law. We’re in the same boat, Cosima.”

“You started all of this. You could have just let Lizzie be happy with Angel, but no! You had to burn his restaurant to the fucking ground. What is it you dumb Shelby fucks say, hmm? By order of the Peaky Blinders, that’s it! Your way or the highway!”

Bile began licking at his insides. “Your brother weren’t good enough for Lizzie. She’s a good woman, and he was a fucking duplicitous shit. Didn’t even have the balls to use his real name for half his dealings. At least we stand by who we fucking are.”

Her rage escalated by the second, staring at him incredulously. “My brother had the sense to be clandestine, and you will not speak of him like you knew him! So, he partnered with your enemies, so fucking what? The way you Shelby’s conduct yourself, you make enemies left and fucking right! You took my family away from me for nothing. Nothing!”

John eyed her viciously, his eyes losing any trace of warmth. “They fucking deserved it, and you, you spoiled little wop bitch? You deserve nothing less than every fucking ounce of my contempt. We’re married in name only, believe me. Ain’t no way I’m gonna be a good husband to you, no matter what I promised your mom.”

“Fine by me!”

The air virtually crackled with their mutual distain, Cosima shuffling as far as she could get away from him, muttering cusses in Italian.

“I know what testa di cazzo means,” he spat.

“Good!” she fumed, “I want you to know I think you’re a dickhead!”

The reception was being held at a small hotel local to the church, Cosima storming out of the car and not looking back, fixing a huge, fake smile to her face as she was welcomed by the staff. Immediately, her eyes locked onto a waiter carrying a tray of champagne filled flutes, taking one and knocking it back. A second was reached for, John arriving at her side.

“Whiskey please, mate. Fucking large one.”

The waiter nodded. “At once, sir.”

They stood together to welcome their guests, both repelled by one another’s presence, going through the motions of everything. Cake cutting, first dance, spending as much time as they could away from one another. It was while John was seeking the solace of quiet and fresh night air much later that evening, standing on the rear patio of the hotel smoking a cigar, that he found himself joined by the last person he expected.

“Can I give you some advice, John?”

Turning to Luca, he raised an eyebrow, the tall Italian continuing. “If you want a quiet life with my sister, you need to keep her in the lifestyle she’s become accustomed to. I love that girl to her bones, but she’s a fucking spoiled princess.”

His eyes widened. “You can say that again.”

Luca’s mouth twitched, removing the toothpick he’d been idly chewing on. “My father bent to her every whim, being his only daughter. She was daddy’s little girl. Roses, diamonds, furs, French perfume, she loves all of that. You treat her good and she’ll be sweet with you. And make sure she has a garden. That kid lives for horticulture.”

Luckily, he was wealthy enough to provide such luxuries for his new bride, not that he wanted to. Not that she deserved even one of them. “Noted.”

He nodded, turning to leave his new brother-in-law to it, pausing suddenly as he pointed the toothpick in his grasp at him. “Oh, and John? She’s got a thing for hurling plates. Learn to duck.” Laughing to himself, he carried on back into the hotel, while John felt a prickle of annoyance at his statement, or rather how much pleasure he’d derived from delivering the news that Cosima was nothing short of a bad-tempered handful.

Standing out there alone, he did hope that one day he might see her as something different. Whether that day would come swiftly or not was anybody’s guess, though.

#john shelby fanfiction #john shelby x ofc #peaky blinders fanfiction #luca changretta fanfiction #john shelby smut #john shelby fanfic #john shelby fic #john shelby x oc #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fic

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killingick · 2 years

Text

“—Can I get an Amen?”

Bendy and the ink Machine

Ink Demon Headcanons

TW: NSFW MENTIONS, MENTIONS OF SADISM, HEARING VOICES

Now before we progress, I am aware that this man isn’t friends with Boris and Alice in the actual game, and that he very much wants Alice dead and very much wants to reconstruct Boris. So i guess this is an au? Because they’re friends in this.

ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀʟ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ

✞ The ink demon isn't one to speak. His lips won't part to make utterances but you will always hear him; Like a demonic flux of voices swirling themselves around your head.

✞ When he has something he wants to say, only who he wants to be heard by will hear him.

✞ You might look daft babbling out responses to the ink covered demon, but only those who've spoken to Bendy will realise he's talking to you.

✞ He has quite the temper.

✞ He won't say anything about him being pissed off, but you will feel him.

✞ Be it by an army of deformed creatures dragging you to the depths of the workshop, so he can punish you for the foreign emotion you've made him feel, or by putting you into a state of shock.

✞ He'll make the ink from the soup you'd generously consumed, crawl it's way into your brain and put you into an intense amount of pain until he finds you and deals with you himself.

✞ God have mercy on anyone who tries to get in his way.

ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ

✞ The ink demon is extremely possessive.

✞ He can come across as sadistic when trying to keep what's his to himself.

✞ Whilst you’re wandering the floors below with Henry, he'll always be watching. Nails tapping harshly at the desk as he tries to remain calm, knowing your job is to lure the lone follower to him. But his patience can run thin very quickly.

✞ Whenever you leave the workshop, which he doesn't really like, he will send you letters, signed off from "Joey Drew."

✞ Usually saying to come down to the work shop for whatever made up reason that sounds believable.

✞ He knows you'll always read through the lines of course, and take his letters as his way of saying he misses you.

✞ He's not one for PDA's, the most he'll do is cup your chin with his fingers, forcing your gaze to meet his own whilst he strokes a finger over the soft flesh of your cheek bone.

✞ He prefers to love in private.

✞ Beckoning you to sit on his lap whilst his hands explore your body like a sacred piece of treasure, littering kisses up the skin of your neck and cherishing every little sound that escapes your lips like a lullaby, further feeding his addiction for the mortal being that is yourself.

✞ That desire for you being displayed at most when he has you beneath him; nails dragging along his back whilst you scream his name.

ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ

✞ How you came to fall for someone like Bendy always confuses Alice and Boris.

✞ For such a sweet person, you've come to love such a vile creature and it's baffling.

✞ Boris has always taken a lighter approach when describing Bendy; depicting him as just being lost and scared, not really understanding what he's doing and desperately wanting help, which he keeps on denying.

✞ Alice thinks he's just an upright selfish asshole.

✞ He'll damn near start a riot to get what he wants, and the way he becomes so fixated on the littlest things is just irritating for her.

✞ Despite this, deep down he still knows how to care. He just can't help what the foreign liquid does to him.

✞ Friends are family to him, and he will look out and provide for them as best he can.

✞ But when things don't go right he gets irritated and takes it out on himself.

✞ Only growing more infuriated when Alice starts lecturing him.

ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ

✞ The ink demon stands at about 7'1.

✞ When angry, ink will leak from his pores, coating his flesh in the dark substance.

✞ He doesn't really eat a lot.

✞ He should, but it's not something his body relies on.

✞ He likes it when you bring him snacks though, he'll always appreciate it deep down, with that never ending smile on his face reflecting his appreciation.

✞ As a result of the ink's effect, he often hears voices which he easily gives in to.

✞ They'll beckon him to do their bidding and corrupt everything around him.

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raekensluver · 1 month

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a brewing romance

description: pretending to not be in love with joey tribbiani was hard, especially when everyone around you suspects it.

contains: fluff!, best friends to (potential) lovers, mutual pining (mentioned?)

w.c: 740+

an: i've never posted any of my work besides a shitpost about fred weasley when i was like 13 so cut me some slackkk/ also this is based off of my friends dr bc im insane.

as you push open the door to central perk, a warm smile spreads across your face as you are greeted by the familiar sight of your friends lounging on the couch and surrounding chairs, sipping their coffees and chatting away.

joey, in particular, catches your eye, his soft brown gaze locking onto yours as he flashes you a charming grin.

you make your way over to the group, exchanging hugs and hellos with monica, rachel, ross, chandler, and phoebe.

as you reach joey, he jumps up, wrapping his arms around you in a tight squeeze.

"uh, hi," you reply, laughing as you pull back from the embrace. "what's with the enthusiasm, joe?"

joey shrugs, his eyes sparkling. "just happy to see my favorite person, that's all." he drops back down on the couch.

before you could even think about taking a seat, he reaches out and grabs your hand, pulling you onto his lap. you laugh and roll your eyes, but don't resist as he wraps his arms around your waist, and you settle yours around his neck.

it was a familiar, comfortable position, one you'd adopted countless times before. but today, it seemed to hold a different significance. but you were used to this kind of thing with joey.

you'd been friends for years, and your affectionate nature had always led people to assume you two were a couple- which, of course, you weren't.

the group's stares were noticeable, so when rachel's voice finally broke the silence it was evident it was laced with curiosity. "so, are you two finally…?"

you and joey exchange a look, both of you bursting into laughter.

"what? no, no, no," you protest, shaking your head. "we're just friends, guys. don't get any ideas."

joey nods strenuously, his face a picture of innocence. "yeah, we're just buddies. i mean, i love her, but not like that." he says, winking at you.

monica raises an eyebrow. "okay but...you two look very…cozy."

you laugh. "i swear, we're just friends mon. you all know that. we've just known each other for a long time, that's all. we're comfortable around each other."

"yeah, and I'm comfortable around my couch, but that doesn't mean I'm dating it." chandler inputs. as you both ignore his comment, you switch your focus on how hard it is to ignore the way you fit so perfectly in joey's lap or the way his arms seems to cradle you like you were his own personal treasure.

the others exchange skeptical glances but say nothing. as they continue to chat and get caught up,

you can't help but notice the way joey's fingers drum against your hip- it was a touch that was both familiar and intimate, one that sent a flutter through your chest- you also took note of the way his breath tickled your ear as he breathed.

it was all so… natural. so comfortable. and yet, despite your denials, the others couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more between you two. maybe it was the way you two seemed to anticipate each other's movements or the way you sometimes finished each other's sentences.

as the afternoon wore on, you finally slid off joey's lap, giving him a playful pat on the chest.

"i'm going to get a muffin," you say, as you stand up and stretch.

joey grins, watching you leave. "i'll come with you," he says, hopping up from his spot to follow you to the counter.

once you're both out of earshot, monica quickly turns to the others, her voice low. "you guys think they're telling the truth?"

rachel shrugs. "i don't know. they've always been close, but… there's something different about them today."

ross speaks up, "maybe it's just a matter of proximity. they're always touching and hugging each other. it's bound to create a certain… chemistry."

chandler groans. "don't start talking about pheromones."

phoebe who thoughtfully watches you and joey, order muffins at the counter says "i think they're telling the truth, but that doesn't mean there isn't something more there. maybe they just don't realize it yet."

as you and joey return to the table, muffins in hand, the others can't help but steal glances at you. you two were just so comfortable together, so at ease. and yet, despite your denials, there was a spark in the air, a sense of possibility that couldn't be ignored. only time would tell if you both would ever realize their feelings for the other.

#joey tribbiani #joey tribbiani x reader #matt leblanc #f.r.i.e.n.d.s #friends #friends tv #gn reader #ross geller #monica geller #rachel green #chandler bing #pheobe buffay #david schwimmer #courtney cox #jennifer aniston #matthew perry #lisa kudrow #joey tribbiani imagine #joey tribbiani x you

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whiteboysofthemonth · 10 months

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𝕵𝖔𝖘𝖊𝖕𝖍 𝕼𝖚𝖎𝖓𝖓/𝕰𝖉𝖉𝖎𝖊 𝕸𝖚𝖓𝖘𝖔𝖓 𝕽𝖊𝖕𝖔𝖘𝖙 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

*AGAIN THESE ARE NOT MY WRITINGS. ALL RIGHTS GO TO THEIR WRITERS*

If you would like me to remove you from this list plz let me kno🩷

Joseph Quinn

@icallhimjoey //More Than This PT 1 PT2

@quinnypixie //Curl Kink

@choke-me-eddie //You Feel That? I’m So Hard For You

@ceriseheaven //Joe Wants A Baby

@choke-me-joey //I Want You To Watch Me

@deliaqbower //Take Control

@ceriseheaven //Sexually Liberated Woman

Eddie Munson

@msgexymunson //Treasure

@cursedyuta //You’re Just Like An Angel, Your Skin Makes Me Cry

@msgexymunson //Life Hack

@roanniom //Sting

@screammunson //I Can Make You Scream

@m0llygunn //The Blackout

@emsgoodthinkin //How He Fucks

@upsidedownmvnson //Breaking Your Record

#joseph quinn #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #eddie x reader #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn fluff #Joseph Quinn masterlist #Eddie munson masterlist #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff

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thewittyphantom · 10 months

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Joey and Baby Dragon are so cute together. (I love how confused he is when Joey is happy about the treasure XD)

#yu gi oh #capsule monsters #joey wheeler #baby dragon

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gx-gameon · 3 months

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Slifer Slacker Jaden Mouto

Seto wasn’t upset the first time he heard that Jaden was in the Slifer dorm. After all that’s the system he set up. 1st years in Slifer. 2nd years in Ra. And 3rd years in Obelisk.

But he is furious when he finds out how the school is running the three dorms. His son, the son of the king of games and Seto Kaiba, is in the worst dorm? The dorm for drop outs? Is Seto missing something? He watched his son duel that pants off of one of the teachers durning his entrance exam. Is everyone in this staff stupid? Like yes Jaden is laid back but it’s a dueling school, his son is a pronominal duelist. Seto knows he was trained by the best…..and Wheeler.

The only reason the whole staff isn’t fired is Jaden. Yugi calls Jaden regularly. Jaden goes off on his own for privacy when he talks to his dad. He tell him everything, they are super close. He knows he can trust his dad with anything. And Yugi trust Jaden to know when to ask for help. He’ll be there in a heartbeat for his baby boy but he’s not going to over step Jaden’s boundaries. After all most of Jaden’s freshman year is relatively normal (for them)

Jaden tell Yugi all the ways Crowler tried to get him expelled but he’s always laughing and telling Yugi what a fun duel he had. Yugi might not like that this adult has it out for his kid but Jaden likes his teacher. And Yugi has to remember that people change. Joey, Tristian, Duke, and Seto weren’t the nicest people when he met them. But he knows Kaiba won’t see it this way. Nor will Atem. He doesn’t lie to them. He hates lying to them. But when he tells them about his calls with Jaden and his….adventures he knows he has to talk them down from storming the school and challenging Crowler to a duel.

He has to remind them that Jaden is happy. He’s having fun. And he’s sure that this teachers grudge will blow over. If it doesn’t they can step in but right now Jaden’s getting the opportunity to duel people a 1st year normally wouldn’t. So while know of them like it, Jaden is happy and being challenged so it’s okay, for now. (But if Jaden is hurt by Crowler though it will be game over)

Seto still wants to have Jaden moved up to Obelisk. They’re the best (apparently) and the dorms are much better taken care of (again he’s overhauling this school once Jaden leaves) but Jaden doesn’t want to move. Part of it is his friends. But the bigger part is that Slifer has always been ‘Yugi’s’ Egyptian god card.

His whole life the three Egyptian god cards have belong to Uncle Atem, but he knows battle city. And while Slifer was technically Yugi and Atem’s first Egyptian god card. He likes that he’s in his Dad’s dorm. Wearing the Slifer Jacket and being called the Slifer Slacker reminds him of his dad in a weird way. He treasures that connection. (Yes Obelisk is Oto-san’s card but it’s not the same)

But the 1st year is pretty calm until the Shadow riders come around.

Jaden misses a call with Yugi and as much as Yugi trusts his son, he’s panicking.

Jaden calls a few days later and tells them all about the Shadow riders and how he just dueled a vampire and the whole DM cast is like, “Oh no not this again.” Even Yugi’s ready to go but Jaden asks them to trust him. He knows he can do this and that even though they’ve lost some keys he and his friends can keep the rest safe. (Spoilers: they cannot keep the keys safe)

Yugi decides to trust Jaden. He almost has a panic attack when Jaden calls him to tell him about his duel against the sacred beast cards. “Seto why were those cards there! What if they were like the Egyptian god cards? What if Jaden got hurt?”

#jaden yuki #judai yuki #atem #pharaoh atem #seto kaiba #yami yugi #yugi moto #yugi mutou #yugioh gx #rivalshipping #dad yugi #y

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universestreasures · 28 days

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@lcstsons Sent: A BARBIE (2023) PROMPT (Accepting!)

does the label "long-term long-distance low-commitment casual girlfriend" mean nothing to her? (Joey @ Kisara, Forgotten Regality)

"...I think it be wise if you used a...different label to start with, Sir Joey..." Kisara sighed softly. It was obvious to anyone the dragon had the next thing in the way of relationship experience, not too dissimilar to how Seto was at the start of their prior arranged marriage. Even now, her fiance still had some things to learn, but he clearly worked hard to do his best for her sake in that area. She appreciated his efforts and always was sure to remind him of that.

If someone like her fiance can do that, then surely Joey could as well for the human girl he seemed to have strong feelings for. He just...needed some help, a push in the right direction; one Kisara was more than happy to provide. The dragoness wouldn't call herself a romantic expert by any means, but she's learned a lot from watching the relationships of both of her loving parents, those around her, and of course, her own experience as well.

"From what I've seen of her, Miss Anzu is very much like Lady Kagome in many ways: strong, independent, and kind. She cares about those she considers loved ones dearly, but because of that, perhaps she just...cannot handle or desires a long-distance relationship." Kisara certainly could make it work if things came down to it with her and Seto, but the thought of being worlds apart from the man she loved just...made her heart almost break in two. It was a feeling she wouldn't wish upon anyone, human or demon.

"I imagine that fact is what drove Prince Kyo to decide to live in the other world with Miss Tohru and vacant the throne. Have you...asked Anzu how she feels about it? Did you...once consider her feelings?"

#💎 Heart Of An Underdog Pride Of A Duelist (Lcstsons: Joey)#💎 Maiden Treasure (Kisara)#💎 Maiden Answers (Kisara Asks)#💎 Maiden's Dragonic Crown (Kisara Forgotten Regality AU)#(KISARA GIVING RELATIONSHIP ADVICE TO JOEY OF ALL PEOPLE IS JUST IDK BUT I LOVE IT #(SHE IS ESSENTIALLY GOING: READ THE ROOM LOL

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unfriendlyamazon · 5 months

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title: Bad Dragon

rating: E

pairing: Seto Kaiba/Joey Wheeler

warnings: Strap On, Anal Sex, Nipple Play, Bondage, Rope Role Play, Safewords, Joey Is Not Actually A Dragon In This One (But It's Fun To Pretend)

i was informed by @alectoperdita that it's dragon day so here's something i've wanted to write for a while, was originally on my list for kaijouweek, i gave up on, and then decided to ressurect. i went through a lot today, including the power going out with no heat, so i'm not going to bother editing it. read at your own peril

The ropes at Seto's wrist were tight enough to leave red burns against his skin if he twisted too hard. Removed of his clothes, legs and arms bound, he was as exposed as he could be. Even the comfort of his own bedroom offered little relief. Not with the figure prowling over him. The dim light of the bedroom meant his captor was backlit from the window. Blond strands of hair glowed where they curved away from the face, and through the shadows his eyes seemed to glow with amber light. But what caught Seto's eyes the most was the strap on cinched around his waist. A dildo curved from it, the base thick as it came to a sharp spade point. It's back was ridged, promising tantalizing pleasure with every inch. When he'd purchased it, he'd made sure it was a dark color, glittering with red.

“Look what crawled into my den,” Joey said. His finger grazed a line up Seto's chest. He sucked in a breath, and Joey's lip curved up into a smile. “It's so rare I get such a delicious snack.”

Seto swallowed thick. When mapping out the roleplay, Joey was more than enthusiastic to play the sinister dragon, but Seto wasn't sure he was such the innocent victim. He should've known he'd be in good hands.

“Don't tell me,” Joey said, sliding onto the bed beside Seto. “You came here for my treasure.”

“No,” Seto said. “I came here for you.”

His lips drew back, showing rows of teeth. Seto wished he could drag him in for a kiss. His arm strained against the rope, and Joey's eyes flicked to him with an amused look.

“You're not getting off so easily,” he tutted. “You're in my den, at my mercy. You're lucky so far. Most I devour straight away.”

He swooped in with a chomp of his teeth, stopping short of Seto's nose. He didn't flinch. Joey laughed in his face

“Such a brave knight,” he said and leaned in to whisper in Seto’s ear. “Let’s see if you stay so brave.”

His hot breath made Seto shiver. His cock twitched with excitement, made worse when Joey’s tongue slicked down his neck. His mouth explored Seto’s skin until he came to the pulse point. The first brush of teeth made Seto suck in a breath. Joey climbed on top of him, straddling him at his stomach. He curled his fingers into Seto’s skin. The silicone of the dildo pressed to his stomach, heated by his own desire. He closed his eyes momentarily to imagine the dragon looming over him, and when he opened them again he saw Joey looking down at him with a curious tilt to his expression. The light seemed to glow from inside him.

“You’re beautiful,” Seto breathed.

Joey huffed out a laugh and ran his knuckles along Seto’s cheek. “An admirer. Maybe I won’t devour you after all.”

“Don’t make any promises,” Seto said.

He laughed again, and then leaned down to press his mouth to Seto’s. His kiss was open mouthed and full of teeth. They scraped Seto’s lip raw. Joey’s tongue forced its way into his mouth with wet, messy strokes. Blood and heat rushed to the surface. He wanted more than anything to wrap his fingers in Joey’s hair and tighten his legs around his waist, but he was kept trapped. All he could do was submit.

Teeth bit down on his jugular, and he released a moan. He could feel Joey’s slickness underneath the strap on, and that only made him more high with pleasure. When Joey’s tongue found its way to his right nipple, his whole back arched. He took the sensitive nub between his teeth and suckled on it. Seto panted with each spike of pleasure. He was fully hard now, which only made matters worse. How Joey’d chosen to sit against him meant his ass rocked back and forth to brush the rigid member with promise. Joey bit down hard on his nipple, causing Seto to shout. He looked up at him with a grin on his face.

“Is this torture for you?” Joey said, pinching the nipple between his fingers. “Or do you want more?”

“More,” Seto breathed. He always wanted more. He was never satisfied until he was raw and useless. Joey took to this with his usual fervor.

“I could shred you limb from limb,” Joey continued, and he dug in his fingers with promise. “I could tear your heart out of your chest.”

“It's yours,” Seto said. “Please, just, don't stop.”

Joey slid down him, his mouth moving across his navel to find his cock between his legs. Heated breath bloomed against the head. Seto made a soft sound as Joey dug his fingers into his thighs, forcing his legs even further apart.

“Maybe,” Joey said with a wink, “I find another way to devour you.”

His mouth descended on Seto’s cock and his whole body reacted. His warm, wet tongue engulfed his tongue as his cheeks sucked in on the member. The dragon’s fire coursed through Seto’s limbs. Joey took no break as he engulfed Seto entirely, from tip to base. Seto could no longer offer resistance to the rope, only slope into its hold as his body went limp. He closed his eyes and pictured the dragon’s maw open with the long reptilian tongue lapping at his cock. He was so entranced in the vision that he yelped when he felt the first finger slide inside him. Joey dragged off his dick.

“Blue,” he breathed with a wave of his hand. “Just surprised.”

Joey grinned, returning to pressing his slicked up fingers inside his ass. “You got pretty lost in the sauce.”

“The stage is missing a fine actor,” Seto said, sinking into his palm.

“Aw, babe.” Joey lifted up, which had the benefit of pressing his hand further inside him, and kissed him on the mouth. “You’re gonna make me blush.”

“Can we…” Seto murmured, and then his breath hitched as Joey pressed his fingers to his hole.

“I got you,” he said. “I know what you came for.”

“Yes,” Seto breathed. “I want it.”

Joey’s fingers worked to open him up. The silicone dildo thrust against his thighs. He wanted it inside him. He wanted to feel its girth, its ridges, wanted it to destroy him.

“Do you think you can handle me?” Joey murmured into his skin. “Do you think you’re strong enough?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Seto said. “Split me in two, I don’t care. I just want your cock buried inside me.”

“I bet you do.” He kissed him again. “You call such a dangerous thing beautiful.”

“You are,” Seto said. His eyes met Joey’s, and he couldn’t help but smile. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Even when Joey was topping him, it still delighted Seto to see his cheeks turn pink. He could dish out a thousand compliments Seto’s way, and it only took one word to make him a gooey mess. Even at moments like these, or perhaps especially because of them, he flustered, choosing to silence Seto’s words with another open mouthed kiss. Any more sweet talking Seto had was swallowed up by his tongue, and his fingers worked their magic on Seto’s asshole. It wasn’t long before he was slick and open and ready for Joey to drive him through.

“Hurry,” Seto said as Joey sat back to apply the lube to the dildo.

Joey laughed. “You don’t get to make demands here.”

“I’ve waited long enough,” Seto insisted.

Joey positioned between his legs, and the tapered head of the dildo pressed in easily. Seto gasped and curled his fingers into his palm. It was all he could do. The head of the dildo pushed inside, widening him up for the shaft. Short, sharp sounds burst out of him as Joey slowly situated between his legs. With the dildo half way in, he gave a sudden thrust. Seto keened.

“Oh,” he gasped. “More.”

“Not so fast.” Joey settled on top of him. The weight could crush his chest, and he welcomed it. “I don’t want you coming undone just yet.”

More thrusts, slow and purposeful. His teeth scraped against Seto’s chest, and his arms curled tight around him. Fingers threaded through his hair. Joey was like a boa constrictor readying to devour its next meal. It only elated Seto. With the next thrust, the ridged back of the dildo stuttered inside him. Another pushed it in even further. He gasped, groaned, dug his fingers in so hard he could feel the red marks on his palm. Joey’s mouth worked against his skin. Teeth and tongue, slick and hard, inside and out. Every inch of him was on fire.

Joey’s methodical embrace never lasted long. Once he was excited, and it was so, so easy to get him excited, he crashed down like a wave against the shore. He thrust harder inside Seto, grunting with the effort. He had little stimulation beneath the strap rigging, but he got off just on seeing Seto like this, helpless, at his mercy. It made Seto play up the act all the more. He arched against his restraints, fingers searching like he could fold them into Joey’s hair, mouth open and accepting when his tongue forced its way inside. Fingernails dug into his back and clawed the skin. Seto would be bruised and marked after this was done. Nothing delighted him more than to see Joey’s frenzy reflected back at him in the mirror, even if it meant wearing turtlenecks until the bruises faded. All he could gasp out as Joey fucked him was more, more, more–

He came suddenly. The dam inside him shattered, and there was no reprieve. His vision saw white as he came between Joey and himself, the semen slicking their stomachs as Joey continued to thrust inside him. Stars filled his vision. Joey kept thrusting, still kissing him, still shaking with pleasure even as Seto became overstimulated in his hands. For a moment, he thought he might actually fuck him until he was torn asunder, but the fantasy passed. Joey panted against his lips. Seto smiled and pressed a tender kiss to him.

“Undo my hand,” he said.

Joey nodded soundlessly. His pupils were wide and black. He picked at the ropes with only a brief curse, and Seto’s hand fell away. Pinpricks spotted up his arm, but he ignored them to focus on the man in front of him. Reaching beneath the dildo, he pressed his fingers against Joey’s clit. He sucked in a breath, sitting up to ride him properly. He liked when Seto went deep inside him, so Seto did, maneuvering as best he could beneath all the hardware. Joey still wore the strap on as he thrust into Seto’s hand. He was the vision of the dark and dangerous dragon, his long cock tantalizingly in view. His head went back, and he came easily into Seto’s palm. Seto gave him a few minutes, letting his breath come back to him. Joey blinked bleary eyes at him before undoing the rest of the restraints. Finally free, Seto massaged his limbs as Joey pulled off the strap on and crawled beside him in bed. He folded him into a hug that Seto accepted.

“Was it good?” Joey asked.

“Of course.” Seto turned his head to press a kiss to his lips. “I don’t choose my scene partners lightly.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Joey dragged him down into the sheets. “The dildo was a pretty good investment.”

Seto hummed, curling against his chest like a cat. “Maybe we should go a little further. A few more prosthetics could really sell it.”

Joey laughed, and it shook his chest hard enough to shake Seto too. He closed his eyes and exhaled.

“Next time,” Joey promised. “You wanna get in the bath?”

Seto shook his head. “A minute longer.”

Joey understood. He held Seto, pulling the blankets over their naked bodies, and brushed his hair with his fingers. Seto closed his eyes and imagined the warm heat of his dragon, the feel of its breath, and the rise and fall of its chest as he was held by it.

A fantasy almost as good as his reality.

#kaijou #violetshipping #my fanfic #sauciness #i might edit and repost on official joukai week day but we'll see

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