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sweetseraphims · 13 days ago

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And with that, another fic finally done. {18+ ONLY!}

A Midsummer Night’s Wet Dream

[Author’s Note: I didn’t proofread this, it’s been sitting in the drafts for literal ages LOL. Writer’s block is real… Anyways, can’t say I’m too proud of this one but here’s the fic I promised! <3]

🔞 NSFW, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT OR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!🔞

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Dio Brando x female reader

Synopsis: Unable to sleep, the reader finds a rather daring way to entertain herself.

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“Are you sure

That we are awake? It seems to me

That yet we sleep, we dream.”

-William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night’s Dream

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June, 1986

Cairo, Egypt

The once arid desert heat had significantly cooled within the evening hours, leaving behind it small clusters of stars to litter the ever darkening sky.

The remainder of the day was coming to a close, with the various hues of dusk colliding together amongst the harsh undertones of the night.

It had been fairly quiet out; a stark contrast in comparison to the hustle and bustle of what night life in Cairo was presumed to be.

With a full moon shining brightly on this very night, you almost had the urge to go stargazing— an intrusive thought you knew all too well would land you in trouble given that you were imprisoned within the walls of a cold and unfeeling mansion.

You let out a tired sigh.

Hours had passed quickly as though time had meant nothing, and after a small period of tossing and turning amongst the linen sheets, you finally came to the conclusion that you simply couldn’t sleep.

Just when you were about to rouse from what should’ve been a peaceful slumber, however, a faint noise coming from across the room suddenly caught your attention.

Perplexed, you blinked a few times amidst the darkness; eyes scanning every shadowy crevice even despite knowing well within your heart that you were the only one in the small bedroom.

Or… were you?

It were as though it suddenly began to dawn on you, a sheer realization that started to make you question why you’d ever even thought you were alone in the first place.

You were living in his mansion after all, and given that you were one of Lord Dio’s favorite ‘toys’ to play with, you’d known all too well that if you were left by yourself—it wouldn’t be for too long.

Finally, after lingering around the room for a bit, your gaze landed upon the source of the sound;

There, reclined on an elegant purple lounge, was your master.

It appeared as though he had somehow fallen asleep, something you found to be rather peculiar given his unmistakable vampiric nature.

Despite knowing that your lord was technically part of the undead however, you’d admittedly been with him long enough to know that even creatures of the night such as he needed sleep, albeit; even at unorthodox times of the day (or in this particular case, night).

Although, it still came as quite the surprise to find that he’d willingly fallen asleep in your presence.

Even more so once you’d come to the realization that he’d somehow crept silently into your room while you were tossing around in bed.

Awake.

Disregarding this eerie factor however, you slowly climbed out of bed and tip-toed as quietly as you could towards the sleeping vampire.

By this point your eyes had finally adjusted to the otherwise quiet darkness surrounding you, and you were able to study your lord more carefully.

An old book lay sprawled across his lap; half open, with one of his large hands resting lightly upon its worn pages.

He appeared to be dozing peacefully, and a small sliver of moonlight coming from one of the windows nearby seemed to caress his form in elegance- bathing the contours of his muscles in a gentle luminescent light.

With his torso laid bare and free from any restrictive clothing, you were able to catch more than a glimpse of his beautifully toned body without much interruption.

After a few moments of what you could only assume was mindless staring, you found that your gaze couldn’t refrain from traveling down his deliciously sculpted abs.

You followed each and every curve of his muscles as though you were admiring their finest details in silence, all while pondering to yourself how it was even possible for someone to be this attractive.

Your eyes started to fall upon his carved v-line, which seemed to accentuate his trim waist in such a way that you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out to graze against it softly.

Almost instantly Dio’s body started to tense, and much to your surprise you felt him buck his hips ever so slightly into your touch.

Given that you weren’t exactly expecting this kind of a reaction from him, you quickly pulled your hand away and glanced up to study his face.

You were quite taken aback to find that he still looked to be asleep; surely he was playing a little game on you, wasn’t he?

You never figured Dio would be the kind to sleep so soundly, nevertheless in the company of another person.

Your eyes narrowed at the thought, and you leaned in closer in order to inspect his face.

His amazingly handsome, gorgeous face.

His features— as always, were incredibly well-defined; with perfect high cheekbones, a pointed nose, and a sharp jawline that could honestly go on for days.

With his eyes closed, you noticed the way his dark blonde lashes seemed to kiss the skin on his cheeks; so delicate, and so serene.

His plush lips were pursed into a soft line, and escaping from them every now and then were occasional light snores.

Overall you could tell your lord must’ve been in somewhat of a deep sleep given the evidence you had gathered, and once your gaze lingered downwards once more- it wasn’t long until you figured out why.

He was aroused.

Perplexed, you raised an eyebrow upon your discovery and a few thoughts crept into your mind.

What kind of dream was he having?

Was he dreaming?

Could he even… dream?

Despite the many questions swirling about your conscience, you knew undoubtedly that one thing was for certain; you had to find out.

No, you needed to.

Curiosity may have killed the cat, and in this scenario there was no exception.

Whilst gathering all of the inner strength you could possibly muster within yourself, you carefully reached forward to grab the old book still resting upon your lord’s lap.

Your fingertips had barely managed to graze the surface of it when suddenly in the blink of an eye, you felt one of his large clawed hands wrap tightly around your wrist.

Much to your dismay, the realization began to dawn on you that your master, Lord Dio, must have awoken-and you squeezed your eyes shut, fear racking your body as you waited silently for your inevitable punishment to come.

Oddly enough however, nothing came; not even a single sound.

You slowly opened one of your eyes in hesitance, only then noticing that unbelievably, hardly anything had changed in those few spare moments.

In the midst of Dio’s insane cat-like reflexes and your absolute panic, you noticed that the book that had once been resting on his lap had fallen onto the floor with a loud thud.

Surprisingly though, your master remained asleep.

Surely he was pulling some kind of prank on you, right?

Right?

Then again, you knew Dio to be very serious man.

He didn’t pull ‘pranks’ given that he saw them as nothing more than little childish stunts.

With a carefully drawn in breath and your heart beating rapidly in your ears, you make an attempt to pull away from the iron vice-like grip he had on your wrist; only to no avail.

Even whilst asleep Lord Dio was still incredibly strong; the vampire overlord truly had no limits when it came to the strength and power to conquer thousands— however, would this also hold true with what you were about to do? There was only one way to find out.

Leaning forward with your free hand, you watch as your trembling fingertips graze gently against the outline of his large cock, which in turn earns you a small grunt from him.

It was indeed rather daring to tease Lord Dio like this, however you couldn’t refrain from doing so.

It was the way his erect member had strained so deliciously against the fabric of his pants that spurred you on further, coupled with the occasional noise or two that you’d managed to elicit from him by that point.

Noticing these subtle reactions only seemed to drive you to continue to tease him, even if it may end up coming at the expense of your own safety.

Your hand leaves a trail of featherlight caresses alongside what you presume to be his thick length as you go on to admire his girth in an almost longing manner.

Seeing your lord so “vulnerable” like this and in this state was causing heat to pool in between your thighs, which you found yourself squeezing together tightly.

You could practically envision yourself sitting upon his lap like this, with his clawed nails digging into the supple flesh of your hips.

Bodies pressed against one another and glistening with a sweaty sheen while he bounces you rhythmically on his taut, muscular thighs.

“Y/N.”

The feeling of his large, gargantuan cock slamming through your gummy walls over and over again as he pounds into you with relentless intensity; threatening to split your cervix in two and bring you closer to orgasm while he fucks the literal sense out of you.

“Y/N. Answer me.”

The sound of your lord’s voice reverberating throughout the cold darkness rings in your ears, causing you to instantly snap out of your lust-fueled haze.

It is only then that you feel the smoldering gaze of Lord Dio upon you, drinking in the mere sight of you in your nightdress.

The way in which his stare seemed to devour your small form entranced you, with those amber eyes threatening to swallow you whole like they themselves were made of fiery pools of lava.

“M-My lord..!”

Nails that were darker than the blackest night begin to rake slowly along your jawline, and you feel a cold undead hand grip your chin firmly.

The myriad of sensations you felt just then seemed to overwhelm your senses and cause you to uncontrollably shiver, while eyes the color of a raging inferno hold your visage within them.

You can feel his talon-like nails dig deeper into your delicate skin; full, plush lips pulling back to reveal perfectly white fangs that shine with an eerily pearlescent glow.

It was then that you realized you were entirely at the mercy of this enigmatic vampire overlord, and given that he’d caught you red handed there was no telling what kind of punishment would await you now.

“Tell me, little dove— Do you know what happens when a bird loses its ability to fly?”

There is a brief pause as the vampire’s gaze fixates thoroughly on your form, eyes having narrowed into nothing more than snake-like slits.

Your lips instinctively part as though you are going to speak, but all you manage to do is stammer.

“N-No… Lord Dio, I…”

Without warning, the corners of his mouth curl upwards into a wicked grin; a vague reminder of the fact that your life would always remain within his solid grasp.

You were nothing more than a mere servant; a tool with which Dio could use as he so pleased.

A mere insignificant life buried within the vast network of souls that comprised of humanity.

Had he decided to dispose of you right then and there on the spot, there would be nothing that you could do about it.

Your heart continues to thump wildly against your chest in a manner so fierce that you almost feel as though you can’t breathe, and an unbearable silence fills the room while you squirm beneath Dio’s intense scrutiny.

��Some learn to adapt. Others, however… risk becoming a predator’s next meal.”

Full lips twist into a faint smirk upon his chiseled face in such a way that leaves you breathless; although you couldn’t tell whether this time it was out of fear or intrigue.

“Tell me, Y/N, which one are you?”

You watch in a helpless stupor as Dio slowly arose from his chair, and the hand that was on your chin slides up your face to caress your cheek; sharp nails once more grazing against your pale flesh.

The sinister smile that had seemed to continuously linger upon your lord’s face never falters, even despite the threatening way his words loom over you.

“On your knees.”

The unwelcome feeling of dread sends small tingles down your spine, but nonetheless you do as you are told.

The hand that had been resting along your cheek suddenly drifts upwards, and large cold fingers intertwine themselves in your hair as he grabs you by your scalp.

“I can smell your fear, my darling. It suites you quite well.”

With a fistful of hair in his hand, Dio yanks your head upwards so that you are forced to look at him. Though the action alone doesn’t cause any real damage, the strength with which he did it was still enough to cause you to wince.

He watches you intently for a moment, although to you it probably felt like an eternity.

A dark shadow obscured the upper portions of his face, preventing you from seeing his handsome features to their fullest extent as eyes reminiscent of molten lava continue to bear into your small, shivering form.

You can hear a sinister chuckle rumble throughout his muscular chest, and he runs his tongue smoothly along one of his pointed fangs.

“Undress me, now.”

Having no room for hesitation—especially beneath Dio’s watchful gaze—you carefully reach out, the tips of your fingers brushing lightly against the smooth fabric of his pants.

It is only then that you notice that the large bulge he’d had before had only grown more prominent; and this was amplified by the way it continued to strain so delightfully against the restrictive clothing clinging to his hips.

Your breath hitches, and with trembling hands you slide your fingers into the waistband of his pants.

All it takes is for one gentle tug until his massive cock springs forth, and a small hiss could be heard coming from above you as Dio inhales sharply.

“That’s it, good girl.”

Without warning, the large hands that had been entangled in your hair suddenly yank you forward, forcing your face closer to his groin as though urging you on in the most tantalizing way.

Your wide eyes land upon his cock; you can practically feel the heat nestled in between your thighs begin to pool as you take a moment to admire the vampire’s impressive length.

Small white beads of precum had already begun to trickle down the bulbous head of his thick member, which was in turn a stark contrast to the flush of his otherwise pale skin.

The temporary moment of admiration you’d felt for the man hovering above you is quickly shattered however, once you hear him speak.

“It would be a shame for me to have to fuck that pretty little face of yours.”

Dio’s voice comes out in the form of a low yet threatening purr, and you know there is room for hesitation no longer.

Your lips find their way to the head of his cock, and you part them so that you can take him into your mouth.

The vampire watches you closely, eyes ever slightly narrowed almost as though he were studying your every move in great detail.

Your own face is flushed crimson, with thick lashes kissing the delicate skin of your cheeks as they flutter closed ever so gently.

Messy and tangled locks of hair fell down upon your round face, which in itself held an innocent doe-like expression; something that vaguely reminded him of a deer caught in headlights.

For Dio it was quite the sight to behold, especially given that you were at the mercy of his every whim; that fact alone was almost enough to make his balls tighten.

“Look at me.”

A searing pain begins to burn at the top of your scalp as the hand that had remained nestled within your hair suddenly gives it another pull, causing your eyes to immediately fly open.

As they get lost in the depths of his fiery gaze, Dio can’t help but smirk at the mere sight of you— face so full and stuffed to the absolute brim with his gigantic cock.

Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes while you continue to take more of him in, threatening to spill forth like a dam waiting to break apart.

It isn’t long until the massive head of his cock starts to tickle the back of your throat, and the vampire towering over you groans softly at the feeling.

With his grip on you remaining firm, Dio tugs on your hair to yank your head forward again— only this time he doesn’t stop.

Lean herculean hips snap forward as the man pummels his girth into your face with such intensity that it was enough to leave bruises beneath its wake, and you gag at the force with which his cock repeatedly slams into the back of your throat.

Over, and over, and over again.

Tears begin to trickle down your reddened cheeks as you practically choke on the cock that threatened to suffocate you, all while knowing full well that the best you can do is to just sit there and take it as best you could.

Feral grunts and groans leave your lord’s lips as he fucks into your face at a merciless speed, with his clawed nails digging into the sides of your head so deeply that it was sure to leave a few dark welts if you were ever lucky enough to make it out of this afterwards.

“You want to be fucked that badly, do you?”

His words come out in the form of a low growl, and with every forceful thrust of his hips you can feel your head start to spin all the more.

“Fine, I’ll give you what you want.”

Your body shudders helplessly once you feel the swell of his cock begin to twitch sporadically from within the back of your throat, and you push what little air that remained in your lungs out of your nose in an attempt to breathe.

By this point already it seemed as though Dio’s orgasm was imminent, with every thrust of his hips growing more and more erratic by the second.

Despite being fucked into a senseless stupor—though not in the way you’d imagined— one of your hands finds its way in between your thighs, and your fingers spread apart your netherlips so that you can rub your achingly swollen clit.

Soft moans escape you, or atleast probably would have had it not been for your lord’s giant cock stuffed down your throat.

The mere feeling alone is almost enough to send Dio over the edge, and his thrusting becomes more desperate as the feeling of his impending climax approaches.

You continue to rub at your clit vigorously, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you continuously hump your hand to the steadiest rhythm you could muster.

It almost felt as though you were getting closer and closer to losing it too, however that was cruelly cut short when Dio— being the man that he was— takes that little piece of respite away from you.

“Did I say that you could touch yourself?”

Large clawed hands grab you by the thick locks of hair on your head, and they yank you upwards so viciously that your whole body jolts.

Pain blossoms onto your scalp, and you let out a loud yelp as the unwelcome sensation causes your face to contort along with it.

His words strike another bout of fear into your heart, and try as you might you knew that there was no defying him.

The frustration you felt once you moved your hand away from your clit was intense, though deep down you knew your life was not worth losing by trying to chase that final high.

No, not when you had so much more to offer to Lord Dio.

In the end you resort to humping the air in desperation, and this only intensifies the more Dio continues to fuck your face.

“Not to worry—I will fuck the disobedience right out of you, little dove.”

The vampire hovering above your small form stares down at you; fangs gleaming in the moonlight while his lips twist into what could only be described as a deprecating smirk.

Contrary to how it might have seemed though, it delighted him watching you act on your own volition.

After all— it was just another excuse for him to punish you, and that was something he deeply relished in.

It was the way your hair, now matted and clumpy, stuck to the sides of your bruised and battered face, and those same doe-like eyes rolling back into your skull each time he fucked that pretty little mouth of yours.

The various whines that would’ve left you had his cock not been so wholly stuffed down the back of your throat, and the mixture of terror and desperation written all over your beautiful face.

It was enough to send Dio spiraling into an ecstasy-induced madness, and vile curses begin to spew forth from his lips.

The hips that had once smacked repeatedly into your delicate face stutter, and all at once a white hot liquid rushes down the back of your throat- painting it in the colors of his orgasm.

“Fuck!”

Midway through Dio slides his cock out of your mouth, and it twitches sporadically within his grasp as he lets go of your head to pump the remainder of his load onto your face.

You hardly have time to close your eyes once his seed coats you, splattering onto your flushed skin.

Heavy pants can be heard echoing throughout the small bedroom and through the haze of cum staining your face, you carefully pry open one of your eyes to catch a glimpse of the sight before you.

A large muscular chest heaves with every breath that your lord takes, his shoulders slack as small droplets of sweat glisten against pale ivory skin.

Dio tilts his head to one side, and eyes that had been briefly staring up at the ceiling above trail down to study your face.

Slowly his lips curl upwards into a devilish smirk, and he lets out a pleased hum in response to the sight of you; battered, disheveled, and covered with his seed.

“Look at you. Such a filthy little whore.”

He pauses as though in contemplation, and a dark chuckle resonates throughout his burly chest.

“I like that.”

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sweetseraphims · 13 days ago

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Oh look, I finally made a made a masterlist! {18+ ONLY}

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ MASTERLIST [18*!]

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ

• Sins of the Flesh

•As You Want It

•A Midsummer Night’s Wet Dream

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ

HEADCANONS

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ

•Yandere!Dio

•Vampire!Dio

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sweetseraphims · 1 month ago

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sweetseraphims · 2 months ago

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the urge to write never leaves but the motivation to do so is a lover lost at war

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sweetseraphims · 1 year ago

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Title: It Will Come Back

Pairing: Deimos-postDeimos!Alexios x Fem!Reader

Rating: M

Summary: You pluck an arrow from his back and he turns around like Eros and shoots you right in the heart.

SPARTAN AND ATHENIAN dead litter the shores of Amphipolis –a feast for crows. Though among the dead few are luckily have clung to life. A wave of healers and physicians from both sides descend to collect those injured and those who had already taken the journey across the Styx with Charon.

You bear the mark of Athena –a servant of Athens. Combing the field of battle, you look for soldiers who wear the blue color of Athens. The first man you turn over is dead – his throat slashed and entrails exposed. Another is barely alive, having lost his hand and sustained a long and jagged gash on his calf. Shock will set in soon if he is not tended to. You hold up the silver medallion fastened around your neck –it glints in the sun and soon after two men come forward with a crude stretcher to take the soldier to the infirmary tent.

The next is beyond saving –his right eye is bulging from its socket, a minor grievance in comparison to the shattered back of his skull. He cannot speak, but his delirious eyes say it all. End this. I beg you. You’d never enjoyed this part of your duty. It didn’t feel right for a healer to take life –regardless, you draw the dagger from the sheath on your belt and position the tip of the blade next to his larynx. Pushing down with your weight, the dagger sinks into flesh and then you pull the cutting edge toward you. It’s a clean-cut that will grant the soldier peace before he can take another labored breath.

Keep reading

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sweetseraphims · 1 year ago

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Hi! I would like to request a one-shot for Alexios. Can it be where he finds another demise god that didnt know until the Cult tries to find her, so he then takes her in and then they fall in love? Some fluff and angst and *cough* other stuff if you want to. Thank you and I love your work!!!

Here you go! Sorry it took so long! Hope you enjoy it! ❤️❤️ Alexios x fem!Reader

ALEXIOS LINGERS IN the shadows —watching, waiting, listening. Those in the agora pointed him to Kresilas's Residence to the south of Kydonia, near the Temple of Artemis Diktynna. Between the clues and the whispers overheard in the cave beneath the Sanctuary of Delphi, his search for Melite has led him here to Messara. Another cultist to fall upon the Spear of Leonidas.

The sea breeze rustles the dry shrubs and carries more whispers. The old fortress one of the guards mentions, looking toward the towers rising along the rocky coast see if he can squeeze out any information. Alexios flexes his fingers, draws in a slow breath, and disappears into the night. He will find Melite at the Kydonian Fort.

The fort is built on the ruins of a lost civilization, and the tunnels beneath wind into the darkness. Alexios follows them until they spit him out into a cavernous room with felled stone columns and wooden scaffolding with a line of iron holding cells. The fort’s prison. At the center is a whipping post, and strung up by shackles is a woman, beaten and bloody with a man circling her —Melite. Alexios moves along with the shadows cast by the burning braziers, steadily moving closer.

Blood fills your mouth. Melite’s torturer had done a fine job. Your struggles earned you a bloody nose and mouth and three fewer fingernails. Four more, and Melite promised they would start taking fingers and toes. He tilts your head back, and through one strained eye, you can make out his twisted smile. It’s the same questions every day. Who is your father? Where is your father? Questions to which you know not the answer and not even lies will suffice to spare you from the pain.

“I told you I don’t know!” You cry, voice cracked and strained. The same answer you’ve given a dozen times over. “I grew up an orphan in the streets of Kyrene.” Tears streak your face, carving paths through the dried blood and filth from the endless days. Melite shakes his head and loses the flaying knife on his belt, but Alexios will watch no longer.

The Eagle Bearer surges forward, nigh silent, and thrusts the broken spear up and into Melite’s back. The point of the Leonidas spear emerges from the Cultist’s chest, bloody but shining in the firelight of the burning braziers. Melite goes limp in seconds with no resistance, no sound. Alexios pushes the corpse aside, but you shuffle back as much as you can —startled and frightened, unsure if this stranger is your savior or destruction.

Alexios reaches behind him, slowly, sheathing his spear back to its place on his quiver, then lifts his empty hands to show he means no harm. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he says, reaching up to unbind your fetters. Your arms drop down, and you rub the broken skin on your wrists —the rush of blood brings throbbing pain.

“I’m Alexios,” he says, introducing himself as he kneels in front of you, frowning at the dried blood and bruises on your face. He helps you stand on shaking knees, but there is something strange about his touch —something calling to you, as though you’ve found something you hadn’t even known was lost. “Do you have anywhere to go?” He asks, and you shake your head; it’s been years since you had anywhere you would dare call home.

HE CAN NOT leave you like this, so Alexios returns to the Adrestia. There is always room for another aboard the old trireme, but above all, Alexios needs to know if you had felt the same spark when his fingertips first brushed against yours. He has no doubt members of the Cult can be cruel for cruelty's sake, but there must be a reason Melite kept you. When your legs can no longer hold you upright, Alexios lifts you into his arms and makes his way down through the city and to the docks, and by the time he reaches the Adrestia, you are fast asleep —or unconscious, he is not sure which it is.

Barnabas and Herodotus are quick to make room when Alexios steps onto the trireme’s deck, calling Leda and Iola to help. They will have more skill than he and the others and a kinder touch to tend the open and angry wounds —Leda assures the Eagle Bearer that you will be in good hands and tells him not to linger, for there is little he can do now besides wait.

Alexios nods, looking back toward the fortress from whence he came and to the city. The answers he seeks must lie within. “Where are you going?” The old captain calls when Alexios sets back off for the heart of Kydonia.

“I still need answers,” he replies, raising the hood of his dark chlamys before disappearing amongst the dockworkers and merchants preparing for the day.

ALEXIOS RETURNS IN the dark of night after several days with newfound answers, more questions, and his pockets heavy with drachmae. Almost everyone is asleep, above or below deck. Several rowers sit on the edge of the deck, legs dangling over the water as they pass a skin of wine back and forth. He goes to the helm, standing in the center of the painted Hellas map, wondering where the winds will take him next. Running a hand over his face, he sits one on of the stern benches, then removes his sword and quiver, placing them within arm’s reach.

Though, he doesn’t expect to see you looking at him from the opposite side of the Adrestia —eyes shining in the moon and starlight. The cuts have all scabbed over, healing cleanly by the looks of it, and the bruises are fading, but Alexios knows healing physically is only half of the battle to recover. “Thank you,” you tell him, smile still weak and tired. It breaks him from his trance.

“What did they want with you?” Alexios asks, then curses himself for asking such a callous question. He has his suspicions even if he has no answers.

Your gaze flicks away, wondering how big a fool you’ll sound for speaking the truth of why Melite had captured you and strung you up for days. "They think I have the blood of hereos," you start, looking back to Alexios, but there is no ridicule in his gaze. He believes you. “Because of my father, whoever the malákas is.”

Alexios picks up the Leonidas spear and holds it out. Your brows furrow on seeing the broken spear, uncertain why he is offering it to you. “Hold this,” he says, placing the wooden lance into your palm and curling your bandaged fingers around the cloven weapon.

What happens next cannot be described. Eyes slipping shut, you focus on the spear and the energy thrumming through your body —calling to something that has yet to be fully awakened. Alexios knows you must feel something from your sharp inhale. “Do you feel it?” He asks. “Power, warmth, strength?” You nod, releasing the broken spear and focusing on him once more. “Then you do have the blood of heroes,” he tells you, lips quirking upward in a kindly smile. “As do I.”

You swallow the lump rising in your throat, unsure if you can process everything that has happened so quickly. None of it makes sense. You’d grown up without a family —on the streets of Kyrene— stealing food, conning those who came as tourists, and working small jobs to afford the clothes on your back. An odd start in life for someone with the blood of ancient heroes.

“Melite was a member of the Cult of Kosmos,” Alexios explains, and you nod weakly, having heard your captor speak of the Cult before and their penultimate goal of world order. In Egypt, the whispers were of a different group —the Order of Ancients. “I’m hunting them down. They have…” his voice trails off, searching for the right words though you can see the pain and anger flare up in his tawny gold eyes, chasing away the kindness, “…wronged my family.” Part of you is curious, and a budding question forms on the tip of your tongue, but the other part already knows the answer after having endured Melite’s hospitality.

He reaches out unwittingly, the backs of his fingers brushing over the fading bruise on your cheek. Alexios finds strange comfort in being this close —and he can’t help but wonder. You and he are the same, and it feels good to know he’s not alone anymore. You search his expression, unable to decipher what Alexios is thinking, but a fleeting smile kinks his lips. “You can stay, if you like,” he starts, knowing the Cult would never stop hunting you or him, not until they are all ripped from Hellas by the root. “I will protect you.” Alexios means it as a promise.

THE STARS SHINE bright overhead, and the waves softly rock the Adrestia to and fro. Time has slipped from your grasp since joining Alexios and the others —all you know is the wounds inflicted by Melite and his myrmidons no longer ail you, having left faint scars. Now, it all seems like a bad dream from a distant memory. You lie in the center of the painted map, Alexios’s head is next to yours, his legs extended in the opposite direction. He looks at you; all his curiosities have yet to be slaked. “Kyrene,” he starts, having heard you speak of the city before, “where is that?”

“South. In Libya,” you tell him, remembering the many days and nights you spent underneath the stars there, wishing one day to be able to run far away. But it's the surrounding red-rock faces and fields of flowers that you are most fond of when thinking back to childhood. “They grow poppy and silphium there.” You shift, turning to look at him. There remains much you do not know about the man who rescued you from the grasp of the Cult of Kosmos. All you know is he is kind, handsome, charming, and has the blood of ancient heroes flowing through his veins —the same as you. “Where are you from, Alexios?” You ask, wondering if he will tell you about himself.

“I was born in Sparta,” he explains, not ready to tell you of his past yet, especially given what happened when he returned to Mount Taygetos, “but grew up on Kephallonia.” For years he dreamed of the quickest way to leave the island and its miserable inhabitants behind. Now he almost longs to return to the simplicity of life before Elpenor showed up and offered him the contract for the Wolf of Sparta. He would gladly take the Cyclops over the Cult of Kosmos.

The name of the island piques your interest, knowing Ithaka lay just off its shores —and you know the stories of the great people who hailed from there. “Have you seen Odysseus’s palace?” The tales of Odysseus and the Trojan War had been among your favorite to listen to from storytellers and your favorite to watch when sneaking into the Kyrene theatre.

He nods. “The ruins,” Alexios says, “yes.” The great palace is nothing more than felled stones, fading paint, and crumbling columns —overrun by bandits and deserters from the war between Sparta and Athens. Alexios looks back at the stars with a soft sigh. “I found the Shroud of Penelope among the ruins,” he starts. You turn on your side, smiling, hoping he will tell you more of his discoveries and victories.

YOU INSIST UPON learning how to fight properly, and Alexios finds out just how stubborn you can be. He relents after you pulled Barnabas to your side of the argument. Despite his promise, Alexios will not always be around to protect you. He circles you on the deck of the Adrestia, appraising how you hold your short sword and shield —a heavy bronze piece with the fading colors of Lakonia. “Keep your shield up,” he instructs. You heft it up farther so the curved edge hides your chin and nose. Alexios nods his approval.

“You are Spartan,” you refute, following his pace. “Why do you not use a shield?”

“Slows me down,” he answers. Alexios had not endured the agoge, had not learned to fight with spear and shield in the Spartan way. Everything he knows has come by harsh ordeals —fighting to survive. It’s by sheer luck he’s managed to come out of so many scuffles unscathed. He sees the protest forming on your tongue, and before you can say anything, he shakes his head, pushing your shield back up into position. “But first, you must survive the fight,” he says, smiling. “And a shield will help with that.” You know he is right, even if it seems you could be just as quick as him. “Good,” he remarks, stepping back.

Alexios lashes out without warning, his blunt sparring sword swinging low. Enemies would not be so courteous as to give a warning during a fight. You bend at the knees and lower the shield to block the blow and push back. “Better.” Then he is upon you again, blunt blade thrusting forward, but it skids off the bronze shield and to the side. It’s then you catch the opening, an opportune moment, and press forward —throw your weight behind the shield and into him. The force of the sudden impact is enough to send Alexios backward. He doesn’t regain his balance fast enough and finds himself on his back, looking up at you —surprised.

You smile at him, and from the helm of the Adrestia the old captain laughs. “Hubris, my friend,” Barnabas calls.

THE POPPY FIELDS of Samos are in bloom under the summer sun, their petals a bright orange-red against the clear blue water. Since hearing you speak of Kyrene and fields of flowers, Alexios has made it a point to bring you here. But it is only now that the winds have been kind enough to guide the Adrestia back east after a lengthy pursuit of four more members of the Cult of Kosmos —only a few weeds remained to pluck from the earth.

As Alexios looks upon you, it is hard to see the same woman he’d found so long ago. Before him a warrior, though with more to learn in time. And that pesky feeling tugs at his heart again when he sees how the sunlight and shadows dance across your face.

You’ve caught him staring, he knows you have from the blossoming warmth on your cheeks and the almost shy downturn of your gaze, but it’s no matter. You step toward him and reach for one of his hands hesitantly. “Thank you for everything, Alexios,” you start, knowing words are not enough to express your gratitude for his friendship. Had he not found you…you don’t care to imagine what would have happened. “You’ve been so kind to me.”

Something is shining in your eyes Alexios has not seen before or at least has not taken notice of until now. It makes his throat feel tight and his heart heavy. “You shouldn’t look at me like that,” he says. Your brows furrow with how close he is and how his dark gaze flits down to your lips, you can’t help the way it makes your heart start to pound. “I may do something I regret.” He’s not going to let this moment slip away. Alexios’s fingertips brush over your cheek and back into your hair, then he leans in, warm breath ghosting across your lips. “Like this.”

His lips are soft and rough, with the slightest hint of salt from the sea breeze upon them, and his kiss is slow and confident. He cradles the back of your neck, and you meld into him, arms slipping over his shoulders to draw him closer. The spark you both felt upon first meeting flares back to life, turning to flame. “Alexios.” His name is a breathless whisper as you both part, his forehead resting against yours, then his arms settle around your waist —a gentle cage you do not wish to be freed from.

“Stay with me,” Alexios says. He does not wish to be parted from you after the gods brought you into his life —you are the same as he, and Alexios does not want to be alone in this world again. You smile and make your promise with a slow and sweet kiss, and Alexios’s lips tug into a smile against your own.

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sweetseraphims · 1 year ago

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sweetseraphims · 1 year ago

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something unrealistic about Golden Wind is that Bruno’s suit doesn’t jingle with every movement. how tf is he so stealthy? you’d hear this man from a mile away thanks to those pull-tab charms.

I made this video to show what he should sound like:

jingle jingle

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sweetseraphims · 1 year ago

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The Perfect Offering

Fandom: Assassin’s Creed

Paring: Alexios X Reader

Rating: Explicit

Genre: Smut..smut…blasphemous smut. There is a temple involved.

Requested by Alexios Anon and Based on a confession submitted to Dirty Assassin’s Creed Secrets. Hope you like it!

Another sleepless night.

No matter how much you tried to relax yourself, your thoughts were keeping you wide awake. Thoughts of worry for your husband, who was due to be home in a few days, that was if the Gods deemed it so.

Every time he went away, no matter how long or short, it felt like an eternity. You did your best to keep busy during those times, even visiting the temples every day to pray for him, but you still wondered if it was enough to keep him safe.

Thinking of your husband, you recalled the day you met him, outside the Temple of Aphrodite. You had gone there for a small party, still in mourning over your previous lover deserting you for another. Though it had been several weeks since the split, it still stung. The two of you had been sweethearts since childhood and the two of you were all but married. Until you saw him one day cavorting with your sister. That had not only been the end of your courtship, but communication with said sister. It was at that very party you met him, the man who had made you forget all about the pain the others had caused.

Thinking of him made you think of the Temple itself. You liked to go there during the times that you missed him the most and it helped to make you feel closer to him. Even though it was late, the Temples were always open and since you were not about to go to sleep, you decided it was better to be with good memories than alone.

You got out of bed and got dressed, hoping that she wouldn’t mind that you were not bringing an offering. You always hated not having anything to offer her, but you hoped your love and devotion that you showed towards her, others and your husband would be proof enough for the goddess. After wrapping the peplos around yourself, you stepped out the door and set out for the Temple.

The air was cool but calm. The moon shown so brightly in the night sky that you didn’t need a torch to help you see. Nary a sound could be heard as you walked the streets and your only worry was that the town guards might stop you, but none were in sight.

Arriving at the temple, it was still well lit by all the flame pits surrounding it. The trees with their numerous pink blossoms swayed gently with the soft evening breeze. For once the gathering areas outside the temple seemed to be deserted of other worshipers, save for one or two guards who were asleep at their posts.

Stepping quietly up the stone steps and past the large flame pits, you lowered the wrap and walked through the entryway, slowly making your way towards the end where illuminated by several candles at her feet was the large stone statue of the Goddess Aphrodite.

You kneeled before the Goddess reverently to petition her to keep your husband safe from harm, promising to bring an offering of honey cakes the next day if she would keep her watch over your husband, Alexios.

Thinking of him with his dark shoulder length hair, chiseled jaw and his bristly beard, his body sculpted so much like the gods themselves, brought a smile to your faces and made your heart ache even more for him. Though you knew he could mind himself more than most, you still worried greatly for him and made the wait for him even tougher.

Though you appeared to be alone, you were not. Though you hadn’t seen anyone else along the way, you were not the only one. Another had spotted you and followed you to the temple and as they watched you walk inside, offering in hand, they knew this was their moment of opportunity.

Your prayers to the Goddess were interrupted by the sounds of heavy footsteps. Opening your eyes, you caught sight of another, cloaked in a Chlamys of red cloth with dark trim, their face hidden from you. The stranger bore the scent of the waters. Though the face was hidden, you could see a pair of rough looking hands and like you, this person seemingly had no offering for the Goddess.

No sooner had you resumed yours than they spoke. “What do you pray for?” Came a deep, sensuous voice from under the hood. A voice that to your surprise seemed very familiar. You considered not answering them. After all it was a private matter between you and the Goddess. But though it was private, it was not a shameful one.

“My husband’s safe return.” You answered politely.

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