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caffeinewitchcraft · 1 year ago

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You are a Blacksmith

Set in the universe where your destiny is written on your arm

(The Hero and Hope) (Being Villagers) (You are the Demon King)

You are a Blacksmith.

That’s why the dragon’s fire doesn’t burn you.

“Pretty sure dragon fire is hotter than a forge,” your party’s leader pants. Kent is a veteran adventurer of twenty years to your two years and he’s seen his fair share of dragon fire before today. There are curling scars dragging the corner of his mouth down into a permanent scowl that pairs oddly with how high he has his salt-and-pepper eyebrows. He exhales noisily. “I think you’re just a freak, actually.”

“Not nice,” Sella says. The archer is your age with twice your experience. Her leather armor is well-beaten by four years running around with Kent and getting far closer to battle than an archer should. Her red hair is tied with golden thread that matches the golden charms dangling from her necklace. She adds a new one with every successful monster kill. It’s lucky she’s so stealthy or else she’d be jingling with every step. “Mande is an exception, not a freak.”

You’re a party of exceptions. Most adventurers are Villagers or Guards, common destinies that don’t always find a place within a town or village that have so many of each already. There are days you report for a mission, and you’re offered a blacksmith’s job on the spot just because of the mark on your arm.

Kent is a landless Lord. There’s a story there, you know, but it’s not one he’s ever volunteered. You can see his destiny pull at him in the remote reaches of the Kingdom, where no Lord has laid roots and the monsters run roughshod across the barren soil. Nights where you’re too far from civilization find him gazing up into the stars, his fingers curled like claws into the earth. The look on his face then is so hungry that the first time you saw it, you offered him provisions from your own pack. He’d shaken his head wryly, his scarred frown twisting, and walked off into the night by himself, only returning in the morning light.

Sella is a Guardian without anyone to look after. You knew her story before she told it to you, whispering it like a bedtime story before the end of the world. She was part of a traveling theater group. She looked after them, feeding them and retrieving those with wanderlust from their journeys before curtain call. When a monster siege led by a Demon King fell upon the city they were performing in, the Lord called his people into his castle and locked the doors.

The troupe were not his people. But they were Sella’s.

Until they weren’t.

You drag your battle hammer up and over your shoulder. Conveniently, the dragon fire has burned away the wet viscera that had been clinging to it. The metal is dark with soot, but undamaged.

The things you smith can’t be melted by any fire except your own.

The skeletal trees make the scene of this final battle oddly silent. Ash drifts from the sky, carried by a wind too high to feel. You can hear your party sniping at each other behind you and the gentle gurgle of the beast’s body settling comfortably into death.

The red dragon is beautiful. Its scales gleam and sparkle like rubies in the late afternoon sun and its talons shine like obsidian. Each part of the creature could make an average family rich for a month. You consider it from an arm’s reach away. You chew your bottom lip as you think. Your adventures have taken you across the continent from the southern coast you call your home, to the western land of rivers, to the northern desert and then here, to the eastern dry lands. After all your travels, you find yourself still thinking of home often. Crab is a delicacy where you’re from despite being so close to the water. The preparation can be tedious which makes it a dish reserved from significant occasions. Cracking the shell was always your job…

“Oh,” Sella says faintly. She makes an attempt to rise and nearly tips over in the process. If it weren’t for her bow, she’d be on the ground. Her knees shake as she uses a combination of a tree and her bow to pull herself up. “Mande, rest first! In an hour I can help you—”

You bring your hammer down on the jaw of the dragon. The bone shatters after just two blows. It’s best not to think about how beautiful it looked flying overhead or the intelligence in its eyes. You’ve always had a single-minded focus and you rely on that now.

“Leave her to her dismantling,” Kent grumbles. He’s now curled up on the ground is if in his sleeping roll, hands tucked neatly under his chin. It can’t be a comfortable position given his full suit of armor no matter how peaceful his expression. “If she’s got the energy for it, who are we to argue? Just keep the ribs intact. That’s what the client wants.”

Smash!

“It’s our turn to do the dismantling,” Sella says. She glares down at Kent. “Mande already did last week’s gryphon and the hydra. Get up!”

Smash!

“I’m an old man who needs his nap time.”

“You’re an irresponsible leader who needs to do his part.”

Smash!

“Once Mande stops swinging that thing around, I will.”

“She won’t hit you—”

“She hit me last week!”

“And I apologized for that,” you say through gritted teeth. You let your hammer fall by your feet. Your last blow sent tremors through your arms. The dragon’s jaw is like glass compared to its skull. “Sincerely.”

Sella makes a gagging sound when you fall to your knees next to the cracked skull. “Mande, don’t put your hand in there, that’s – oh, that’s so gross.”

“The book I read said it’d be…aha!” Your fingers graze something cool and metallic. You abruptly feel like crying. It’s been seven months. Seven long months of endless missions and danger and being away from home. This entire dragon is priceless, but you’ve forfeited your share for this. You blink rapidly to keep your tears at bay. You aren’t going to cry. Not until you’re sure that you’ve really found it. “Quick, hand me my waterskin.”

Your urgency gets even Kent up and bustling towards the dragon’s corpse. With trembling fingers you accept the water from Stella, pulling out your prize. It’s smaller than you thought, only about the length of your arm or a third the length of the dragon’s skull.

With bated breath, you gently trickle water over the length of it. Your party kneels beside you, watching just as raptly.

“What is it?” Sella breathes.

Kent is wide-eyed as, inch by inch, your treasure reveals itself.

“A dragon’s silver wit,” you say. The silver is mottled by the dragon’s black blood and grey brain matter. “The last ingredient I need for a Hero’s Sword.”

-----.

“You can’t just make a Hero’s Sword,” Kent is still saying a week later. He throws his hands up to the sky. “Heroes make them from air and magic and righteousness. Blacksmiths just repair them!”

You didn’t ask for Sella or Kent to follow you home. In fact, you assumed they wouldn’t. The slaying of the red dragon marked the end of your time in the Adventurer’s Guild. Now you’re ready to return to your position as the southern port’s best blacksmith and you thought they’d be ready to return to the best two adventurers the Capital Guild had.

“I’ve heard legends about it,” Sella says. She’s walking backward. You’ve already warned her that the roads this far away from Capital aren’t as smooth, but she’d scoffed at your concern. Now it’s pure stubbornness to prove you wrong that has her continuing to walk backwards despite nearly tripping twice already. “Excalibur was manmade.”

“The legend of Hero Arthur is manmade,” Kent retorts.

“If you believe that,” you say, “you really don’t need to come home with me.”

Kent blinks. “Well,” he says slowly, “on the off chance it’s not a fairytale, I desperately want to see it.”

“Then shut up and follow Mande,” Sella says. She elbows him and mutters under her breath. “Or else she might not let us stay at her house.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m sure the dragon fetched enough coin for the both of you to get your own rooms at the inn.”

“Sure,” Kent agrees. He grins wickedly and the expression makes him look ten years younger. “But we’re not going to do that, are we Sella?”

“Nope,” Sella chirps. She loops an arm through yours before you can protest and squints at the horizon. “Is that your hometown over there?”

A hazy line of blue and white roofs is barely distinguishable in the fading light of day. Sella has better vision than you. You’re sure she can see the masts of ships in port, the green and yellow flag waving over the chief’s house, maybe even the orchard that creeps right up to the edge of the bluffs.

You can’t wait to see it yourself.

You aren’t sure how long you’ve been smiling, but your face hurts by the time you find your voice. “Yes. Yes, it is.”

----------.

Mom hurls a loaf of bread at your head when you walk through the front door, Kent and Sella in tow.

Kent catches it an inch from your face. “Whoa, whoa!” He waves the bread as if unsure whether he should drop it or throw it back. “It’s your daughter! Mande! Put down the bread basket!”

“Mande and friends,” Sella says cheerfully. She waves at your Mom, Dad, and little brother. “Hello! I’m Sella.”

“I threw it because I know who it is,” your mom says. The grey streaks on either side of her temple are wider. Her round, kind face is pale with anger. “We thought you were dead.”

“We got your letters,” your dad says before you can ask. His hair hasn’t changed; he’s bald. He’s wearing his leather apron from the forge at the table. He takes a bite of soup. “All three of them.”

“Not nearly enough,” Mom snaps. Then, “And they could have been forgeries.”

“Who would forge a blacksmith’s letters home?” you ask in exasperation. Is that why she never replied? “Mom, please.”

“Don’t giveme that when you’ve been dead for seven months,” she says. She stands abruptly. “Three of you? Sit down. I don’t have enough soup, but bread will fill anyone’s stomach.”

“I’m Kent,” Kent blurts out before Sella can push him into a chair. He sits with a thud. “Sella, it’s rude to sit before introducing yourself!”

“Ruder than not knocking or coming for dinner without an invitation?” Sella hisses at him. She turns a charming smile on your little brother. “Sorry to intrude. You must be Axton. A pleasure to meet you.”

Axton doesn’t return her greetings. His eyes are fixed to the package strapped to your back. “Is that…?”

You swallow hard as your family’s eyes turn to you. You carefully pull the cloth-wrapped rod from your back. Your little brother isn’t so little anymore. You can see he’s taller than you as he stands in unison with Dad to clear a spot on the table. His long, thin hands make quick work of the ties.

There’s complete silence as the burlap falls away to reveal gleaming silver.

Axton’s throat bobs. He’s barely eighteen with the soft look of a fawn hovering around the edges of his jaw and cheekbones. Mom and Dad have done a good job feeding him while you’ve been gone. Seven months ago your brother looked like a wraith, all the light taken from him as if it all came from his hero’s sword.

“You’re going to make me a sword,” Axton says at last.

You’ve thought about this moment for seven months. You imagined you would say something like it’s okay now or maybe big sister fixed it. When his hero’s sword was taken from him, you thought about all sorts of things. It took a month for you to set out on this quest rather than one of revenge. It wouldn’t have helped Axton if you’d forged a hundred weapons of war to punish those who’d hurt him. It wouldn’t help Axton to pretend you fixed anything.

So instead you tell the truth.

“It won’t be the same,” you say. “It won’t work the way you want it to. Not right away. You’ll need to train with it and learn it as you would any other weapon. Your instincts won’t help you. But…it won’t break when I’m done. It won’t bend or chip. It won’t melt. It will serve you, Axton, until the exact moment you don’t need it anymore.”

Axton flies around the table to throw his arms around you. It’s amazing you came from the same parents. Where you are short and stocky, he’s really like a deer. His long arms could encircle you twice as he lifts you with a hero’s strength. “Thank you, thank you, thank you—”

And then you’re being hugged all around. Your dad’s strong, Blacksmith arms are crushing you to your brother, your mother’s soft cheek is against your shoulder, and there’s plate mail digging into your spleen while a sharp elbow digs into your spine.

You manage to turn your head just enough to see Kent hugging your from behind and Sella hugging him from behind. It’s her elbow that’s jabbing you.

“This is sweet,” she says. Her voice is a little muffled from how her face is pressed against Kent’s back. “We should hug more.”

“Does this make your brother a Hero?” Kent asks.

“This is a family hug,” you say.

“Duh,” Sella says. “That’s why we joined.”

You really can’t argue with that.

(Patreon)

Next week's story: Everyone in LA has two job. You've got a big smile and a talent for seeing ghosts. It's no surprise what your jobs are.

#my writing #second person #you are a blacksmith #found family merges with first family

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 11 months ago

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Yandere King Naga // Part 1

Thinking about living in the forest once you’ve transmigrated to another world. Instead of getting caught up in some romance plot or adventure you decide to just live in a little cottage. Where you catch and cook your own food, making some passive income when you do venture into the town. On your way back from one of these trips you happen upon a little bundle crying on the dirt path.

“Oh my, who forgot you little sunshine?”

You smile when their crying ceases when you lightly rock them, beginning to notice a few odd-looking patches on their cheek. Then when those tiny eyes finally open little slits look back up at you while their mouth with little budding incisors open to coo at you. All of it leads to you opening up the bundled wrappings around them to find a wiggly and stubby little snake’s tail. It is then you make the perilous decision to raise this little naga in secret.

In this world, you could tell it wasn’t advanced enough to accept monsters or anything not human into the community. That you might be branded a monster as well just for caring for the creature. Nonetheless, you rationalize that this is perfect for your forest life–where you’re more likely to meet other monsters than humans. Thus your life with this little one begins and you thank his naga-biology that he grows up fast.

“I caught a mouse! Are you proud of me!”

“Yup, I’m real proud! Now come on you need a bath.”

But not too fast. Life is good for a while while you tend to the house your little one—Nox ventures to the perimeter of the forest to play before returning to you. He is still a child. Things go on normally until he comes slithering to you with snot in his nose, tears in his eyes, and babbling through tears. Hugging and holding him you check for injuries and when you find none you try to convince him to talk to you.

“What’s wrong, Nox?”

“I-I-There’s a guy out there! A-a-and he keeps following me! Look!”

Hiding behind you and clutching your pants, following his finger to the underbrush of the forest around you harden your stance. Thinking about the knife in your pocket and your other hand holding onto Nox, keeping him behind you. Watching the leaves and branches rustle with movement you prepared yourself for a fight.

“Are you this child’s guardian?”

It’s another Naga, standing tall on a tail adorned with patches of gold in his white tail. Hiding further in the brush you can tell there are black rings around the tip of their tail which seems to be coiled a lot closer. He’s lean but muscular and his golden eyes are glaring at you.

“I am. Why?”

He hisses, “To think a human would take in a hatchling purely out of goodheartedness is ridiculous. I’m going to take this child home where he belongs.”

“Nooo!”

“He’s my kid and if you want to fight for him I will do that.”

With a final pat on Nox’s head, you tell him to stay near the house. You goad the naga man into a place near the forest saying you’d rather not do this in front of Nox before taking off running. You know he’s following as you hear him angrily hiss and slither through the wood. Bringing him to a desired spot you turn keeping your knife behind you as he launches his tail in your direction. Expecting it, you dodge finally revealing your knife and aiming it at his tail creating a gash that has him hissing.

“Haaaa Insolent Human! How dare you!?”

Usually, with a knife like yours, you never would have broken the protection of the scales but taking care of Nox offered some invaluable insight. You tried to dodge again but failed as his tail coiled around you in the blink of an eye. Squeezing immediately it took you a moment to turn your knife around to stab at what scales you could. He grunted but seemingly had settled for the stab at the expense of strangling you.

“I’m going to enjoy watching the life leave from you, human! Your kind makes me sick.”

The pressure was unbearable but your adrenaline was high and with the simple gesture of bringing you closer to spit in your face you took a leap of faith. Abandoning your knife for some wiggle room you launched forward clamping onto his neck your only weapon left—your teeth.

That seemed to catch him off guard his tail unraveling enough to let the rest of your body go. Now allowed to pin him down, using your feet and hands to pin down his own as you continued to bite into his neck you didn’t stop until you heard him moan.

“Aaaa~! Wait no, please! You’ve got to let aah~!

In your peripheral, you could see his alabaster tail twirl and twist oddly. From your position, you couldn’t see his face but you could imagine what his expression was. Considering you could feel the connection of his hips bucking against your own. The final nail in the coffin other than his constant streams of wonton moans you could hear the familiar worried slither of your son coming through the wood.

He was calling for you. Hopefully, so loud he would miss the Naga continuing to make the loud moans despite you standing over him and wiping your teeth of his blood. Finally, looking at him you could see the darkened tips of their ears and cheeks as they continued to oddly curl on themselves. You didn’t bother trying to stop him, not wanting to trigger another fight you just ran scooping Nox up and barricading you both in your home. Hopefully, by the time the Naga man comes to his senses, he will have accepted his loss by then and leave.

Unbeknownst to you that Naga would spend all night shifting and rolling in their ground replaying the fight. All the while moaning and groaning, driving all the smartest predators far away. This would continue until daybreak when he finally stopped but the heat in his cheeks was far from gone.

“That–that human is perfect…a human…who would’ve guessed.”

After a day you venture out, Nox sticking close to you while you undo the locks of the door with a knife in hand. Looking out you hoped you’d find no one in the clearing near your home—that was not the case.

“Hello human!”

Slamming the door on his face, you replay the expression and the closeness that they were standing outside the door. If only to sate your curiosity you opened the door again.

“Hi–”

Slam

“How are–”

Slam

“You?”

When he seems to stay in that same place the whole rest of the day, you eventually encourage Nox to keep his nose down and help you with your chores. Ignoring the smiley Naga who was oddly no longer hostile.

“What are you doing? Hanging your human clothes? How cute can I help?

“Is this how humans catch their food? How human-like so clever I would’ve never thought a net would be how you do that!”

“You are such a good parent to your little one? Would you like to have some more?”

Once you're able to shoo the intrigued Nox away, you decide to hose this guy down for answers. Good thing he’s happy to provide them. He finally introduces himself as a King of Naga who was coming to pass judgment on a Naga child living with a human from the smaller snakes of the forest. You hold your complaints about his presumptuous assessment, to ask why he’s still here assuming the fight said that you were capable enough to raise Nox.

“Yes well, now I’m courting you!”

“Excuse me?”

“You not only bested me in battle, you also did the most submitting action and claiming that a Naga could do. You…bit me~”

“Even so…I’m not a Naga.”

“Well usually that’d matter but I am the King of all Naga once my neck has been bitten and claimed there can be no others that is until you die.”

“Can’t you just pretend I died in the battle?”

“Preposterous your my destined mate! No other will do!”

Thus your days are spent trying to explain to Nox why the Naga you fought with was hanging around so often. On top of that the King Naga whose real name was Shian, had begun to ramp up his advances. No longer happy to just wave at you behind trees or happily follow you with your chores. He gets closer, testing your boundaries and breaking them as he intends to instigate some kind of reciprocation.

He is a King, And he’ll get what he wants....eventually.

Part 2: Here

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc #yandere ocs x reader #yandere oc x you #yandere naga #yandere naga original character #yandere naga oc #yandere oc naga #yandere naga x reader #yandere king naga #yandere original characters #yandere original character

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mistahkinganubis · 3 months ago

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Line art illustrations of characters from my Home (2015) fic Forces of Gravity. Lucy and Smek are from the movie, and Elrod (top right) is a revamped character from the Netflix cartoon “Adventures with Tip and Oh”. The rest are my own original characters. The story takes place a few months after the movie, and uses elements from all Home and Smekday related media. The main premise: after a series of unfortunate mishaps, Smek and Lucy are unwittingly paired together in an outer space adventure.

Respectively, left to right: Hitch, Elrod, Shirl, Julio, Smek and Lucy Tucci.

#dreamworks home #home dreamworks #home 2015 #home adventures with tip and oh #captain smek #lucy tucci #dreamworks animation

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astrojulia · 5 months ago

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Moon in the Houses: How Your Emotional Needs Shape Your Love Life

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Moon in the 1st House

Your emotions are front and center in your love life. You’re super open about your feelings, which makes it easy to connect with your partner. But watch out—your emotional transparency can also make you a little vulnerable. You might react intensely to things, which can shake up the relationship. You’re all about emotional security and need a partner who gets you on a deep level. You’re not clingy, but you do want someone who can nurture your emotional side. Just be careful not to get too attached or let fears of abandonment creep in. Oh, and you’ve got a protective streak! You love taking care of your partner, but don’t forget to take care of yourself too. Balance is key.

Moon in the 2nd House

You’re all about stability and security in love. You want a partner who makes you feel safe and supported, both emotionally and materially. But don’t confuse emotional connection with material stuff—true love isn’t about what you own. You’re super loyal and value relationships that reflect your personal beliefs. Just be careful not to set sky-high expectations—it’s easy to get disappointed if your partner doesn’t meet them. You show love through actions, like giving gifts or creating a cozy vibe. Just make sure your partner’s on the same page, or it could lead to misunderstandings.

Moon in the 3rd House

Communication is everything in your relationships. You’re drawn to partners who can hold a deep conversation and really get you. But don’t mistake small talk for a real connection—you need more than that. You’re great at expressing your feelings through words, but don’t overdo it. Sometimes, just being present is enough. And remember, listening is just as important as talking. You might also find love in your social circle or through shared interests. Just don’t let outside opinions sway your feelings—trust your own heart.

Moon in the 4th House

You’re all about emotional security and creating a cozy, loving home. You want a partner who shares your values and makes you feel safe. But don’t get so caught up in creating the “perfect” home that you forget to let the relationship grow. Your past and family play a big role in your love life, and you might feel most comfortable with someone who understands your roots. Just don’t let old patterns hold you back—it’s okay to grow and change. You’re a natural caregiver, but don’t lose yourself in taking care of your partner. Make sure your own needs are met too.

Moon in the 5th House

You’re all about fun, passion, and creativity in love. You want a relationship that feels like an adventure, full of joy and excitement. But don’t let the thrill of new experiences keep you from building something deeper. You’re playful and romantic, and you love partners who can keep up with your energy. Just be careful not to avoid commitment—sometimes, love takes work. You show love through creative gestures and surprises! But make sure your partner values your emotional side too.

Moon in the 6th House

You find emotional stability in the little things—daily routines, shared habits, and taking care of each other. You’re all about creating a balanced, harmonious relationship. But don’t get so caught up in the details that you lose sight of the big picture. You’re a natural caregiver, and you love making your partner feel supported. Just don’t forget to take care of yourself too. Relationships are about give and take. And hey, don’t stress too much about perfection. Love isn’t about having everything figured out—it’s about connection.

Moon in the 7th House

Relationships are everything to you. You crave emotional security and harmony with your partner. But be careful—this can sometimes lead to dependency or insecurity if things aren’t going well. You’re drawn to partners who make you feel understood and accepted. But don’t let your need for connection make you ignore your own needs. A healthy relationship is about balance. Commitment is your thing, and you feel most secure in a serious relationship. Just make sure you’re not losing yourself in the process.

Moon in the 8th House

You’re all about deep, intense connections. You want a love that’s transformative and soul-deep. But this intensity can sometimes lead to possessiveness or jealousy if you’re not careful. You’re not afraid of emotional challenges—in fact, you thrive on them. But don’t let past issues weigh you down. Use them as opportunities to grow and heal. You’ve got killer intuition when it comes to your partner’s emotions. Just don’t let their feelings overshadow your own. Balance is everything.

Moon in the 9th House

You’re all about growth and exploration in love. You want a partner who shares your thirst for knowledge and adventure. But don’t let your love of new experiences keep you from building something lasting. You’re drawn to people who share your beliefs and values, which can create a strong foundation. But be open to differences—they can make your relationship even stronger. Travel and new experiences are your love language. Just make sure you’re not always chasing the next big thing—sometimes, love is about staying still and growing together.

Moon in the 10th House

Your emotions are tied to your ambitions and career. You want a partner who supports your goals and understands your drive. But don’t let your career take over your love life—balance is key. You might be attracted to successful, ambitious people, which can inspire you. But don’t compare yourself to your partner—you’re amazing just as you are. And hey, don’t forget to let your guard down sometimes. Love isn’t about achievements—it’s about connection.

Moon in the 11th House

Friendships and social connections are super important in your love life. You want a partner who’s also your best friend. But don’t let your need for connection keep you from building emotional intimacy. You value freedom and independence in relationships, which is great! Just make sure your partner understands your need for space. You’re drawn to people who share your passions and ideals. But don’t forget to carve out time for just the two of you—love needs nurturing too.

Moon in the 12th House

You’ve got a deep, complex emotional world. You might struggle to express your feelings openly, which can make your partner feel a little lost. But your intuition is chef’s kiss—you just get people. You’re drawn to deep, spiritual connections and might dream of an idealized love. But don’t let your fantasies keep you from building something real. You need time alone to recharge, which is totally okay. Just make sure you’re also making space for intimacy with your partner.

(CC) AstroJulia Some Rights Reserved

#astrojulia #astrology #astroblr #witchblr #all about astrology #astro community #astro observations #astrojulia talks #natal chart #astro placements #I tried a new writing style...

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shuaflix · 4 months ago

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the hidden one (preview)

PAIRING ▸ pirate!choi seungcheol x assassin!fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut, fluff, humor, some action, historical au, assassin's creed: black flag au, pirate au, royal au, strangers to lovers au

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, i used the word arse 3 times #british, slow burn, mild depictions of violence, character death, forced proximity, meet-ugly, so much banter, political tension, religious conflict, family issues, booseoksoon as the pirate underlings, teasing, and there was one bed, sexual tension!!!, unprotected sex (i don't fw with 1700s contraceptives sorry), fingering, oral (f. receiving)

SUMMARY ▸ choi seungcheol is supposed to be dead. following a tropical storm, the notorious pirate loses both his ship, the golden corsair, and a majority of his crew to the cruel tides. now stranded in sevilla, spain, seungcheol and his three remaining sailors must find a way back to england; however, an unexpected altercation ends up tying their fate to you, an assassin who wants nothing to do with the four of them. despite your reluctance, he must work alongside you in exchange for a way back home. of course, complications arise once his heart decides to have a say in the matter, and, somewhere along the way, seungcheol realizes this mission is bigger than himself.

EXPECTED WORD COUNT ▸ 31k

TAG LIST ▸ @wonudazed @jenoentry @aaniag (send an ask or comment to be added!)

RELEASE DATE ▸ out now! read here

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ this one is plot heavyy but does not require any prior assassin's creed knowledge tbh! most importantly this was a (very late.... sry) bday fic for fia :p

“NOW IS OUR CHANCE."

“You cannot possibly be thinking about making our move now,” you returned in a low voice. “We must wait until the time is right. For now, we are spectators.”

Seungcheol couldn't help the frustrated sigh that escaped his lips.

It was a slip of the tongue, but he really couldn’t be bothered to sit through an entire show. On his ship, his men entertained the crew with jigs that any sailor could bellow at the top of their lungs. Not that Seungcheol had witnessed many opera performances in his life, but he wasn't too keen on sitting through hours of the grating sound in his ears. It must have been an acquired taste, one for the upper class, and Seungcheol simply hadn't developed an ear for such music.

He imagined his reaction would earn a glare from you, or maybe even a stab wound in the gut. You would surely rattle on about the importance of your mission until Seungcheol’s ears bled (and all before the opera performance even started!), so he braced himself for your wrath.

But then you giggled.

He couldn't believe his ears. Seungcheol thought he would be less intimidated if you pointed your blade at his throat instead.

“Your impatience is truly remarkable,” you said in a hushed voice. “You mean to tell me they made you captain?”

“Oh, you must hear of my adventures, mi corazón. There was no question that I would become captain.”

“I see your abysmal lack of subtlety was not a deciding factor. We are pretending to be part of this world, remember?”

His gaze dropped to where he could see a glint of steel at your wrist. It was something that would've been altered to match your measurements had you put in the request yourself, but since your dress was really adjusted for some other noblewoman (who was most likely very distressed about her missing gown right now), the sleeves were a size too big on you.

“My lack of subtlety? Sweetheart”—Seungcheol moved closer so that he could push the sharp tip of your blade further up your arm—“you could do a better job yourself.”

This seemed to properly fluster you, and you huffed before fixing your sleeve and turning your attention back to the stage.

“That was intentional,” you made sure to note under your breath.

“Oh, yes—certainly.”

“It was hardly visible.”

“If you insist.”

“Has anyone ever told you what a piece of work you are?”

“No,” the captain said. “I have received no such complaints. Rather, the number of women I have unknowingly charmed is quite troublesome. That must be my only shortcoming.” Noting the unimpressed look on your face, he smiled and lowered his voice to quote, “But, ‘what a piece of work is a man,’ no?”

You raised a brow. “Hamlet?”

“Oh? Have you seen it? I was lucky enough to watch it at the Theatre Royal in London a few years back. Had a business partner who—”

But you were no longer paying attention to him. Right as Seungcheol was about to explain how he got the tickets, you pressed a finger to his lips and hushed him. Normally, he would be baffled by such a bold move, but instead he followed your gaze to where King Philip was whispering orders to the palace guards stationed around him. The lights dimmed and the opera singer walked to the front of the stage, rousing applause and cheers from the audience, but Seungcheol had a strange feeling that the auditorium wasn’t safe.

One by one, he noticed, the king’s palace guards stalked off to examine the rows of seats.

“They cannot possibly be suspicious of us already,” Seungcheol whispered—more as a joke, initially—but his amusement dropped from his face when he added, “can they?”

“I’d rather not test our luck,” you replied, peering over your shoulder to scan the perimeter for any discreet exits. He felt your lips ghost the shell of his ear. “Stand up and hold your arm out for me. If anyone asks, I felt faint and you were simply accompanying me outside for fresh air.”

“That will draw attention.”

“Naturally. You must have noticed how flattering this gown is on me.”

Seungcheol paused. “I have, but—”

“Good, so we are in agreement, then?” you hissed through your teeth. “Stand up.”

#svt scenarios #seventeen scenarios #seungcheol smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen #seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol scenarios #svt hard hours #seventeen hard hours #seventeen x reader

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fanaticsnail · 8 months ago

Text

Age Gap: Garp

Birthday Celebration Masterlist

Word count: 1,800

Themes: Garp x f!reader, gendered terms used, smut, mdni, 18+, NSFW, mirror sex, age gap, overstimulation, porn with minor plot, old-man endurance.

Notes: birthday celebration fic! Love Garp and all the fun that comes with him.

Back pressed against the bare chest of the man behind you, knees drawn up over his thighs, he braced you fully against his body with his large forearm. In front of the both of you was a large, rectangular, floor-length mirror: granting you no choice but to witness the actions the man behind you was enacting against your body.

His cock was pressed against your ass, leaking tip smearing precum on your spine while he disappeared his index and middle finger inside your slick pussy. His lips were on your neck, the scratch of his bristle-like facial hair adding to the experience of having someone so much your senior bringing forth this much pleasure to you.

Vice-Admiral Garp was always kind to you in the office. Never once an untoward comment uttered between you, truly the perfect gentleman. Now sprawled on his lap and watching his fingers hook up into your pussy while he whispered into your neck and ear, you had never felt so desired in your life.

Bumping into him after another poorly matched blind date had ended badly was truly serendipitous. You had just finished talking down this overeager match from venturing into a large tirade of how attractive he found himself, which was a large disappointment on your behalf. The younger man that matched you on the marine Den-Den dating frequency just didn’t click with you. He made no effort to learn who you were or what you did for work, and simply assumed the evening would end with him using you like his personal sheathe and disregarding your own needs for pleasure.

Concluding the evening with a firm handshake and your portion of the bill paid for your uneaten food, you stood and left the restaurant without further word as to why. He didn’t even ask you how you were, or paid you compliments on your attire. Sure, you didn’t need any of those things, but watching the man boost his own ego was simply too much for you to give your free evening over to.

When you found the Vice-Admiral laughing with a street-food vendor, you felt a little more at ease. Put of his decorated uniform, in a patterned shirt and cargo shorts with far too many pockets, he just seemed at ease and filled with joy.

As soon as he turned his attention towards you and away from the vendor, he extended out his arm with a broad smile twinkling up at the creases in his eyes.

“My, my, officer, don't you scrub up nice?” he chuckled, gesturing to your attire, “Not saying you don't normally make my office brighter with your radiance, just not accustomed to seeing you outside your uniform.”

“Thank you, Vice Admiral,” you shook your head to chastise him a little, chuckling alongside him, “Had a date.”

“Oh?” he asked you with a small hint of intrigue, “And how did it go?”

Rolling your eyes, you brush past him and gently begin ordering from the street vendor one of their hot specialties, paired with a sweet pastry to follow it. Garp couldn't help but bark a laugh, gently clapping a hand on your shoulder and shaking his head.

“That good, was it?”

“Speaking freely, considering we're both out of uniform and the office is far,” you turned to him while fishing out your Berry, “No. No, it wasn't good. It was, in fact, shit.”

This did nothing to quell Garp’s laughter, only involving the street vendor to chuckle along with the both of you. Sitting in a comfortable air and laughing along at your own misery, you couldn't help but to take Garp in.

Each of his features had this air of charm about him. Smile lines littering his face, creases and crevices that each told a tale of adventure throughout the years. He was far too many years your senior for you to ever consider romantically-.

“-I'll walk you home, love,” Garp suggested, offering out the crook of his elbow and indicating for you to take it. “It's far too late for a pretty woman such as yourself to wander through the trenches. Especially when you're dressed so fine.”

You quirked your brows up, almost scoffing at the suggestion while interlacing your elbow with his own. Taking the street food from the vendor, you held the brown, paper bag in one hand while the other gave his forearm a gentle squeeze.

“Sounds to me like either you don't trust in my abilities to take care of myself, or you don't trust your subordinates and civilians to act appropriately,” you comment slyly. Garp rolled his eyes, a smirk tugging up his whiskered lip.

“On the contrary, I'm actually thinking quite selfishly.” Finally making it to your door, you take a moment to study the man escorting you to your residence.

“Oh?” You asked in response, cocking your head down and seeking out his eyes. “How so, Vice Admiral?”

“It's not every day I have a beautiful woman hanging off my arm and allowing me to lead her home. Reminds me of my youth.” Leaning down, he playfully pursed his lips and enjoyed drinking in your radiance for a moment longer. You felt you had no choice but to laugh and enjoy his attention.

For once, out of these long and drawn out evenings with the large number of singles you had attempted to couple with in the past, you actually felt like you were desired. Not as a body to warm the bed of for a few minutes, not a marine to help rise another in the ranks, but truly desired.

You were not sure of the next few moments: who leaned in first, who removed your dress, who's lips found the others while the door closed behind you, or where you placed the food down while you jumped up and hooked your legs over Garp's hips. None of it mattered.

All that mattered now was how close you were to your impending climax while you watched him bring it on in your glossy reflection. Thick, leathery fingers disappearing into your pussy, crude squelching ricocheting from the corners of your quarters while Garp uttered huskily into your neck.

“How about another one?” he whispered against your skin, “You can give me another, can't you? How many is that now, hm?”

“F-... F-...” you could barely find the words, feeling him brace you against his torso and chuckle in your ear. Gently cooing at you, he pressed his lips to your shoulder and traced the up to your neck.

“My count’s four,” he drew his eyes up to meet yours in the reflection, “See if we can make it five before I give you my cock again, hm?”

“Garp-!” you cried out, feeling your legs shudder and flutter as the coil in your belly wound tightly shut. Your cunt began greedily sucking in his fingers, holding him within you while your high was right within your grasp.

“Oh, you're gonna climax on this old man’s fingers again, aren't you?” he snickered softly, gently biting at your jaw and holding you on the presipis of your edge, “Tell me. Who's making you feel this good?”

“G-G-... Gonna cum-!” you cried out, attempting to curl in on yourself while your high began to sizzle at the corners.

“Not until you say it, sweetheart,” he smiled. His corners creased at the corners, giving him that boyish edge that you had come to enjoy throughout your evening. “Go on. Say it.”

“G-Garp-!” you cried out, watching as his eyes met yours before you darted them down within your reflection to witness the creamy splashback you left on his fingers with your climax.

“Oh, good girl,” he praised you, grinning at you while he expertly ushered you into your high. “Go on, love. Cum on this old man's fingers.”

You threw your head back onto his shoulder, desperately keening and mewling for him while he shepherded you through your high. While one hand moved in and out of your pussy, ushering out your release with sharpshooting efficiency, the other hand braced you against himself while he felt your soul leave your body and join the chiors in oblivion.

Riding your high while trapped on his lap felt unlike anything you'd experienced in couplings prior. He had had you in ways you had never dreamed of: reaching highs you had only ever fantasized about meeting.

Huffing and panting while coming down from your powerful release, he slowed down his expert ministrations before withdrawing his fingers from your pussy and giving your thigh a gentle pat.

“Now, dear,” he unlocked his legs from your own and cradled you into his chest. You limply peered up at him, lulling your head against his collar while he hoisted you easily into his arms. “Remind me how many poor dates you had in the past few months?”

He tossed you back onto the mattress and fluttered his eyelashes down at you with the innocence of a newborn deer walking on stumble legs.

“Eleven,” you panted, a warmth dampening your cheeks and flooding your ears. “Eleven shit dates.”

He gently rose your thighs over his hips, drawing his cock between your folds and lining his tip at your entrance. With a slow chuckle, he began languidly rocking his cock once again into your pussy with an easy rhythm.

“By my numbers, seems we have six to go.” He drew his hips flush with your own, bottoming out with his mushroomed tip kissing at your cervix, “Whatever we can't do tonight, we'll pick up in the morning, yes?”

He gently slotted his arms beneath your shoulders, rocking his cock into your core and drawing out needy gasps from your parted lips.

“Yes,” you gasped in response, your head flinging back to mold your pillow to the shape of your hair while he drew out your ecstasy by his deep thrusts.

“That's my girl,” he uttered softly, continueing to staple you against the mattress with the stamina of a wild beast in rut. With every in-thrust, he let out a soft shuddered call of your name on his breath.

Although he would never admit it he was obsessed with the soft, little, overstimulated sobs you'd let out the closer you'd come to your release. He would give anything to be buried in your radiance, night and day, drawing out more of your ecstasy every time you called on him.

He would have you remember him, know that he could draw this much out of you in a single night without fail. Although he was not as spritely as he was in his youth, he could last much longer than he could back in his hay day.

But you mad him feel so young, so spritely, and so full of energy, he had no choice but to keep going until he deemed you fully satisfied by his hands, tongue, and cock. Anything more would have to wait for negotiations between you and he on the morrow.

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory @jadeddangel

🎶Happy Birthday to Me🎶

If you would like to celebrate by indulging my caffeine and bubble tea addiction, my Kofi link is here.

#one piece #x reader #2024 birthday event #garp #monkey d garp #garp x reader #one piece smut #x f!reader #one piece x reader #one piece garp #op garp

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