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Carnations and Constellations <Deimos! Alexios> NSFW
Request: hiii!! i found ur blog could u perhaps write about deimos! alexios and or connor catching feelings for a soft girl and they gets obsessed with how her body is so soft compared to theirs? fluff or smut(?) either way is fine!! id just like it to be super cute ;_;
This is my first attempt at smut. Let me know what you guys think! :) Also, let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!
Please don’t read if you’re under 18.
***
A gift for the Deimos. It was an honor, and the gods would smile upon her. The truth was she was expendable, and they were terrified of the monster they created.
Humans were cruel creatures, and the cult of Kosmos were full of twisted individuals. He became what he had to to survive.
"You are to do his bidding." Those were the last words her father spoke to her.
Their control over his rage was slipping. The cultists hoped he would channel his rage onto her, in whatever way he deemed fit.
She was instructed to kneel by a low chair. By the weapon racks surrounding it, she assumed this is where he stripped his armor. "You will not look at him until he deems it." A cultist ordered.
"Deimos, the cult of Kosmos have blessed you with a gift."
He studied the woman, taking in her figure, her soft features looked out of place in the dark room.
Cold steel pressed under her chin. The blade tilted her chin up and she met honey eyes. Eyes that wanted to hold warmth, but churned violently instead. Dark circles ringed his eyes, but he had a face that was more beautiful than Adonis himself.
"If she isn't to your liking we can find a more suitable offering."
In a flash his blade was pressed against the cultist's neck as he seethed, "what are you still doing here?"
The man managed to sputter out a cry as Deimos shoved him towards the door. He thudded against the marble floor, and scrambled out of the room. "What do they call you?"
"Y/N."
He studied her a moment, "I expected you to say I could call you whatever I liked."
"That is what they told me to say." She confessed. "I haven't any reason to appease them." Her jaw was set, and shoulder's square.
She had some spirit about her, which he found amusing. "And you are mine to do as I please," he mused sitting in the low chair next to her. Calloused fingers gripped her jaw inspecting her face once more, "Aphrodite has blessed you, and they have given you to me unspoiled?" He questioned, studying her gaze.
She gave a simple nod, which seemed to appease him. He'd grown up around serpents, and had no patience for liars.
"Well?" He gestured to his armor as he sat. With nimble fingers she was quick to strip him of his armor.
"Would you like me to polish it too?" She inquired, placing the armor on it's stand.
She was startled to find calloused fingers lightly gripping her neck. His low voice was the harbinger of death. "Do you think I'm so easily fooled?"
"Please, just do it." She said laying her hands over his. "If it's not you, it'll be someone else."
Her words startled him, and his grip loosened. "They'll try to exploit you if you ever came to care for me." His fingers ran down the soft slope of her shoulders as he took her words in. She was a pawn too, but to the cult she was expendable.
He knew for both of their sake he should end it now. It would be quick, her bones would be easy to break, and her neck would snap like a twig. However, she was so small, so vulnerable that he couldn't entertain the thought of striking her down.
"Perhaps you are a gift from the gods." He muttered. His fingers catching a bit of silk fabric that hung about her waist.
The touch was fleeting as he dropped the fabric. Y/N could feel his demeanor shift behind her. "Polish my armor." His voice came out gruff as he stalked out of the room.
She set to work polishing the armor and blade until they both gleamed.
He returned late in the night to find her sound asleep against one of the weapons racks. A sound of surprise escaped his throat when he saw the polished armor.
Her calming presence had confused him, and he'd removed himself from the room to ponder it. However, coming back to her sleeping form had stirred a gentleness within him that left him more confused.
He had concluded that he would use this gift the gods gave him. He had never had the time to explore a woman's touch, perhaps she could melt his cold heart.
He made his way over to her, in a gentleness that surprised him, and he placed her on the soft bed. He shrugged on an azure linen chiton before sitting on the edge of the bed. She’d curled into herself, and she looked tiny. Like the carnation petals that littered Zeus’ temple floor. The jewel studded hair pins glittered in the moonlight, and Deimos plucked them from her hair. Ten pins littered the small table when he was finished.
He finally settled in behind her. She looked peaceful as she softly stirred beside him. Her eyes fluttered open. He watched her process reality. His hand shot out to grip her bicep before she could sit up. Again he was reminded of her size in his calloused palms. “Stay.” His deep voice melted in her ears. She settled back down into the warmth of his body.
The bed was cold when she awoke the next morning. His armor gone, and a platter of fruit, cheese and bread were laid out on the table next to her. She ran her fingers through her hair as her gaze rested on the pile of hair pins. He’d taken the time to remove each one, and he even shared his bed.
The man wasn’t a monster, so why did everyone fear him? Her mind replayed the moment he’d thrown the Cultist across the room. Could that classify him as a monster? If she had the power to show the Cult of Kosmos that kind of wrath she wouldn’t hold back either.
The gilded doors creaked open, and several cultists walked in. Y/N’s shoulder tensed at the sight. The cultists appeared to be surprised she was unharmed. The leader of the group spoke, “you will accompany Deimos to the feast tonight.” The cultists took a step closer, Y/N could feel the cultists’ breath fanning her neck. “If he acts out, you will be the first to feel our wrath.”
She recognized that voice. It was amusing seeing her father shocked she was still breathing, and here he was threatening her with violence. He snapped his fingers and a maid quickly rushed forward. A pile of white fabric laid across her arms. “They will get you ready.”
The cult turned to leave, as Deimos entered the room. The cultists scurried fast out of the room to avoid his fury. He crossed the room in a few strides and grabbed her chin. His grip was firm, but slightly tender as his eyes flickered over her body checking for any harm that could have befallen her. “What did they want?” His voice was deep, and demanding.
The maids cowered at his presence, “they wanted me to ensure you would not act out tonight.”
“Or what?” His words came out as a feral growl as he took a step closer. His breastplate felt warm against her skin.
“They will punish me.” Her voice was soft, but her words hung heavily in the air. Anger radiated off his body. He turned to the weapons rack, and in the blink of an eye he sent a bronze shield through the rack. Steel clattered on the marble floor, and the maids whimpers echoed off the walls. Y/N spared them a glance, and could see the women shaking. Tentatively she reached out. His back went ridged when her hand met his arm. “Don’t worry about me.” She said gently, “they fear you too much to take me away.”
“If they lay a hand on you.” He paused, inhaling deeply.
“I know.” She said softly, as he brushed his fingers against her cheek. Her gentleness was something that had been lacking in his life. The thought of anyone laying a hand on such a kind heart had him seeing red.
She pressed a soft kiss to his palm before turning to the maids. The three women scurried to their feet, head down so as not to catch Deimos’ eye.
The ladies unclasped the brooches letting the silk fabric pool at her feet. Deimos had taken a seat to sharpen his blade. His eyes flickered up at the rustling of fabric. Soft curves hypnotized him. They were a stark contrast from the hard worked muscles of his body. It would be easy to dismiss the maids, he longed to feel the softness of her breast, and the roundness of her ass. Before his mind could go much further white silk was fastened into place.
The dress left little to the imagination. It was another way for the Cult to show their control. What was supposed to be his, wasn’t really his, and they made sure it was known to him. He watched them pin her hair up in an elaborate style, applying perfume.
The ladies left as quickly as they came, and Deimos took her in. She looked like a flower to him, and she seemed out of place in the dark room. The only light in his dark and twisted life. She took a seat on the bed and she gripped the blankets tightly. Something tugged at his heart, it was a new feeling for the warrior. She looked terrified, she’d managed to hide it well so far. He did not think the fear was directed at him. Most quaked in his wake, but she hasn’t shown him an ounce of fear.
“I will not let any harm befall you.”
His voice surprised her, and she let go of the linen blankets. “I’m sorry.” The words came out as a whisper, and she’d never felt so small.
Deimos took a seat next to her. He’d never learned how to comfort himself let alone another person. He longed to take her in his arms, but was unsure of his own touch.
Teary eyes took him in: his muscles tense, and jaw clenched. The warrior was trying to console her, even if that meant sitting next to her awkwardly. “You’re very kind.”
A look of surprise crossed his features. He looked down into her earnest (e/c) eyes. “No one has ever used that word to describe me.”
She brought her hand up to brush against his beard. A very tender gesture, and Deimos felt like putty in her hands. He brushed his nose against her’s before pressing his lips to her’s. She melted into his touch. His lips were rough, but his touch was gentle. Fleeting kisses peppered her jaw and neck, as calloused fingers traced her curves. He fumbled with the brooch when the doors slammed open.
Deimos was already at the man’s throat before Y/N could blink. “The cult is ready for you.” The man gasped. Deimos released the man, “come.”
Y/N scurried along behind him. Her legs working overtime to keep up with his powerful strides. A group of horses were waiting outside of the fortress entrance. A sleek black stallion looked decorated for war. Y/N could only assume the stallion was for Deimos. The cultists ushered her to the back of the line. They seated her on a bay horse. A mercenary was ponying her horse. Apparently the cult didn’t trust her to not try and escape.
The banquet was being held at a nobleman’s house. When she dismounted, she could see the gleam of Deimos helmet disappear behind the house. The mercenary that was ponying her to the party guided her through the doors with a push of his hand. She found the mercenary was always in eyesight wherever she wandered. The wine table took too long for her to find. Her eyes flickered across the various faces in the room. She was startled to find her mother amongst some of the ladies. When she caught her eyes, her mother sneered, and turned her back. The group of women laughed, all throwing her judgemental looks.
She wrapped her arm around herself, hoping the floor would swallow her up. She took a deep pull from her goblet. Damaged goods, that’s what she was to her family. They tossed her to the wolves, and had the audacity to mock her. Most people avoided her, but she didn’t miss the hushed whispers that passed around the room. Words like whore and slut were directed at her.
When she finally found a secluded hallway, she pressed herself against the wall. The cold marble felt good against her hot skin. The past couple days had been a whirlwind. The only constant in her life was Deimos. Everyone called him the monster, but he was the only one who had shown her a sliver of kindness.
A crashing noise sent her back into the banquet hall. The marble railing gave her a perfect view of the scene below. One of the large cypress tables was tipped on its side. Wine and oil mixed on the mosaic floor. A middle aged man cowered at the sight of Deimos. His golden blade glinted. Deimos looked like a god in the way his armor glowed in the candlelight. He cut an imposing figure as he strolled around the room. People cowered and stared in awe at the sight of the mighty Deimos. All wondered what depths of Hades had spit him out, his voice held a hint of boredom. The way a cat lazily plays with a mouse before it devours it. “Did you think you would escape me?” Deimos drawled on, his eyes circulating the room.
The man pleaded some incoherent words. He even resorted to pleading on hands and knees. “I grow tired of this game.” Deimos stated, before plunging the blade through the man's throat. Y/N gaped at the sight. Never had she seen such violence. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and she nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt hands on her arms. She glanced up to see the mercenary ushering her forward.
The wine and oil splashed across her dress as she made her way to Deimos. He stretched his hand out for her to take. Hands were stained red, and Y/N was unsure if it was the wine or the man’s blood. Her eyes flickered down to the swirling of crimson and berry. Steeling herself she took his hand, showing weakness would give the cult satisfaction. Deimos led her through the crowd. The whispers about her had stopped, she had no doubt they were terrified of Deimos hearing their poisoned words.
The black stallion was waiting at the entrance. Deimos lifted her onto the steed, before mounting. She wrapped her arms around him as nudged the horse forward.
The sun fading painted the sky in brilliant colors of pinks and purples. It was the first time they’d been truly alone. No procession in tow, no walls full of vipers, just the music of the cicadas and the salty breeze that blew in from the sea. The stallion slowed its pace to a walk, as Demios navigated the horse down a steep slope. Deimos dismounted, before assisting her down.
Never had she been somewhere so beautiful. A small waterfall cascaded down the cliff side into a small pool. Deimos studied her expressions, he was glad she seemed to find beauty in this place. He never intended for her to see the monster he’d become. With the Cult of Kosmos it was unavoidable. Her dress was stained with the other man’s blood. He stripped his armor until he was in only his chiton. He turned to her to see her watching him. He laid out a soft blanket, and pulled out a clean dress. He took great care in unpinning her hair, to let it fall down her back. Calloused fingers unclasped the brooches, letting the soiled dress fall to the ground.
She was starkly aware of her own nakedness, as Deimos brushed her hair to the side to kiss her neck. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled into her neck. She furrowed her brow at his guilt, but he’d already swept her into his arms before she could respond. He sat her on a rock, and began to wash the blood from her skin. Honey eyes focused on his task, and Y/N assumed this was his way of atoning for what he had done. Deimos’s hands felt good against her skin. The way his large hands massaged her calves as he scrubbed back and forth until the water ran clear. She wanted to know how his hands would feel everywhere.
When he finished his administrations, he sat her on the soft blanket. Taking great care to keep her warm. With a jolt of courage she softly stroked his beard. His eyes flickered up, confusion evident on his face. Perhaps he expected her to fear him like everyone else. Instead she pressed her lips firmly against his. He was quick to return the kiss. His kisses were rough, but she could feel the longing in them. How long had he gone without connecting with another soul? If Y/N had to guess, she was the first one to willingly touch him.
Soon she found him on top of her. One palm cradling her neck as he peppered kisses along her jaw, while the other balanced him above her. His whiskers brought a pleasant burn against her skin, that his lips soothed as they passed over her skin. The gentle moans that escaped her lips only encouraged him further.
The sight of her breasts caused a sharp inhale in the warrior. The soft shape was a stark contrast to his battle hardened body. He peppered kisses along her breasts before thumbing each nipple. The weight of her breasts felt full in his hands. He captured one in his mouth as he rolled the other with his thumb. Small hands tugged at his hair, as soft whimpers escaped her lips. Deimos couldn’t decide if he liked the feel of her breasts more, or if it was the sinful noises his touch solicited from her lips.
His hand cupped her sex as he captured her lips with his once more. He kissed down her body before settling in between her thighs. Y/N sat up on her elbows in anticipation feeling his breath against her sex. Dark eyes flickered up at her lighting a fire in her core. His arms tightened around her thighs as he lapped at her clit. Fingers gripped his hair, and her back arched on its own accord.
Lustful eyes glanced up at her to see her enraptured in ecstasy. Deimos added his fingers, slowly stretching her to accommodate him. The added pleasure soon had her seeing stars, and that coil soon became so tight it finally released as her orgasm washed through her.
He climbed up her body giving her a deep kiss. She could taste herself on his tongue, it was cool and fresh. Like drinking from a cold mountain spring.
“I want to make you feel good too.” Her voice was soft as she gazed up at him with blissful eyes. This pulled a small smile from his lips. Her sweetness was contagious, and she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“Climb on top.” He said softly, ridding himself of his remaining clothes. Soon she was straddling him. “You can go as slow, or as fast as you need.”
The velvety skin was soft in her hand. She gave him a few strokes, which solicited a low groan from him. He gripped her thighs at the sensation. She slowly sank down on him. The pain she was feeling slowly turning into a sweet burn. When she was fully seated she gave herself a moment to adjust. Deimos gripped her hips, he knew she’d probably bruise there, but he wasn’t expecting her to feel this fucking tight. When she started moving again Deimos found himself in pure bliss. He rub her clit encouragingly, which solicited soft moans from her. When he couldn’t take it anymore he flipped the two over. Y/N looked surprised at his strength, he hadn’t even bothered to pull out. “Touch yourself.” He commanded as he set a brutal pace. She went to work on her clit, and soon she was so close. She would cum if he kept hitting that spot. “Cum for me.” Deimos demanded, and she found herself falling over the edge. Deimos wasn’t far behind, he ceased when he became too sensitive. He waited to catch his breath before finally pulling out. She curled into his side, and he brushed back her hair. She looked stunning in the moonlight, her soft curves made her look like Aphrodite.
After cleaning them both up he set to work making a fire. He’d brought extra blankets. He hadn't planned on returning to the fortress until morning.
They gazed up at the stars, and she pointed out several constellations to him. Her knowledge of the stars surprised him. “Why study the stars?” He inquired.
Her brow furrowed, and a peaceful silence settled in the air. “They’ve always seemed so free.” Her voice grew quiet, “people find beauty in what they are. They don’t have to be anything that they aren’t.” She sighed, “I suppose I envy that kind of love.”
Deimos studied her hard, “who taught you to be so small?”
A blush bloomed on her cheeks, “my family I suppose. Though I don’t think I can call them that now.” She added.
“I heard what they said tonight.” Deimos said quietly. “I’m sorry. They only say it because of me.”
Y/N glanced over at him, his eyes looked sad. He’d been called a monster for so long, he actually believed it. “It doesn’t matter what they say.” She reached out to stroke his beard. “You’re a star, and they are nothing.”
_______
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@marshmallow--3
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I'm totally not obsessed with Alexios.
Throat fucking the Mighty Mithios whilst you wear your spartan fit? Total win.
When I talk about the "spartan" fit. I mean, like the helmets they used to wear with the thingy on top and whatnot. (Does that even make sense, reader is supposed to be a Gladiator)
The Amour Stays On
Pairing: Alexios x Gladiator Male Reader Warning(s): NSFW/18+ Content under the cut
Warning(s): Throat fucking, deep throating, blowjob, armor (armour???) kink? fetish? one of the two, not beta read (i never beta read) Word Count: 1156 Account Navigation AO3 Link extra: i am running out of titles sos hwo do people do this. also really sorry its so short :(
Another victory under your belt and some more free time with your lover, Alexios. The arena is empty. Well, almost empty.
The silence is interrupted with the wet sounds of lips locking together, teeth and tongue clashing. Which honestly surprises you. Normally Alexios likes to take his time when getting any kind of intimate with you.
When you finally separate, you stop him from closing in for another. “What’s wrong, Alexios?” You ask, voice just a little raspy from your earlier exertion. Hells, you were still in your armor, helmet included.
“Nothing,” he lies, refusing to admit the actual truth.
“You’re lying,” you challenge, grabbing his hips and pinning him against the wall you’re both next to. You lean a little closer to him, the cold metal of your helmet scraping over his cheek and causing him to shiver. You think nothing of it at first. “What is wrong?”
His hands grab at your forearms and you can feel the heat coming from his body. He purposely knocks his cheek against your helmet again and that’s when it clicks. “You like the armor.”
“No,” he denies immediately, almost sounding offended that you’d even suggest it.
You click your tongue and his eyes lock onto yours. “Maybe a little,” he finally says, glancing away from you again. You’ll take it.
And you’ll run with it.
“How much,” you push, allowing your fingers to dip into the small gap between Alexios’ belt and his tunic. You swear you can hear him scoff before he speaks.
“Not that much,” he says. Stubborn thing, he was.
“Show me?” You suggest with a smile, tugging him a little closer by the belt. He feels the cold of your armor through his tunic and he cannot stop the way his breath hitches. “Please?”
You hear him curse you under his breath. You knew he was a sucker for you when you pleaded like that. “Fine.”
Alexios’ lips press against the cheek of your helmet and his hands grab your vambraces. His thumbs rub against the soft leather straps that bind the metal together. You can feel your helmet shift as Alexios trails kisses across the metal before he dips to your neck.
You say nothing for now. You’re letting him take what he needs. Perhaps he’ll be willing to talk when he’s done. He tilts your head to the side and you allow him to, closing your eyes with a soft sigh as he kisses down your neck.
Alexios’ hands travel up your arms to rest on your shoulders for a moment before trailing down the front of your breastplate. His lips follow shortly after and you pull your hands from his belt so he can lower to his knees in front of you. He refuses to look at you.
His hands slide down and stop on the bare skin just above your boots. You look down at him and watch as he leans in and nuzzles against your crotch. Hands slide up your thighs a couple times before Alexios cuts the cloth of your skirt open to get to your loincloth.
He tugs it down just enough to pull your cock out and wrap his hand around it. The pumps your cock a few times before leaning forward again to nuzzle against the sensitive flesh. His beard scratches you a bit before he takes your tip into his mouth.
You groan, fighting the urge to push your hips further, force Alexios to take more. You remind yourself this was for him, not you. He was in control.
His tongue wraps around your cock and he slowly takes more and more into his mouth as he bobs his head. “If you would’ve just said something, we could’ve done this sooner,” you say, dragging your hand through Alexios’ hair.
He just groans around you, the vibrations rumbling around your cock and drawing a moan from you. He sucks you off wonderfully. His tongue moves over your cock in the ways he knows you like. The wet sounds of him sucking you off fills the quiet air around the two of you.
His mouth is so warm, so soft, around your cock. You can’t help it anymore. Your hips jerk forward and it inherently forces Alexios to take your cock further into his mouth. You feel him gag as you hit the back of his throat.
Alexios stops and finally looks up at you. For a moment, you believe he’s going to pull off of you, leave you hard and aching and not get you off.
Instead, you feel his jaw slacken around you. You take the hint, pushing your hips forward again once. He moans around you even as he gags. You brace one hand on the wall behind the two of you, the other finding purchase in Alexios’ hair as you begin pumping your cock in and out of his mouth.
He lets you fuck his mouth, swallowing around you as best he can. Each time your cock hits the back of his throat, you’re rewarded with him gagging around you, his throat clenching and his tongue curling around the underside of your cock. It’s addicting.
You push deeper into his mouth, further down his throat. He rewards you with a choked moan. It sounds heavenly. “We really should do this more often, don’t you think, misthios?” You ask.
Alexios responds in kind. He lets his teeth scrape against your cock and it makes your hips stutter. “Alright, alright, I won’t call you that again.”
You feel Alexios hum around you, hopefully in appreciation, and you continue to fuck into his mouth, chasing that wonderful high you can feel coming. Over the wet sound of Alexios’ mouth, you hear another sound.
A quick glance down confirms it. Alexios is jerking himself off. To you fucking his mouth in a full suit of armor, tears streaming down his face. Gods, if that wasn’t the hottest thing in the world. The sight sends liquid fire through you. “Your throat?” You ask, voice beginning to shake as your orgasm approaches. Alexios nods around you.
One, two, three more thrusts and you’re pulling Alexios all the way down your cock, burying his nose in the hair on your pelvis, and painting his throat with your spend. Alexios, in turn, moans around you, his own body tensing as he presumably dirties his hand with his cum.
You hold Alexios on your slowly softening cock until you’re positive Alexios has swallowed everything. He pulls away gasping for breath, saliva and tears painting his beautiful face.
After helping him cleanup and him helping you redress, you share another kiss. “How much do you like the armor?” You ask again, just to see if he’ll finally admit it now.
He grumbles at first but another kiss from you seems to break the little resolve he had. “A lot,” he mutters against your lips before closing the gap for another kiss.
#alexios x reader#alexios x male reader#male reader#alexios#alexios assassin's creed odyssey#assassin's creed odyssey#ac odyssey#assassin's creed x male reader#x reader#x male reader#smut
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Tori's Masterlist of Works From AO3 (A-Z)
Started 1-29-25
Updated 3-22-25
*All FICS ARE 21+*
Assassin's Creed
Ezio Auditore de Firenze Aged Like Fine Wine (smut, completed)
Jacob Frye Fatal Attraction (ON HOLD, dark fic, older!Jacob Frye, takes place in the Jack The Ripper DLC)
Alexios or Deimos At The Mercy of Fate (completed, dark smut, extreme dubious consent)
Crimson Peak
Alan McMichael
Escape from Crimson Peak (completed, youngest sharp sibling!reader, reader is caught in the middle of the plot between Lucille and Edith, reader and Edith are besties, tragic angst)
Cyberpunk 2077
Johnny Silverhand
Ivory Towers and Guitar Picks (completed, older works, use of Y/N, Reader is an adopted daughter of Saburo Arasaka and then she meets the infamous Johnny Silverhand, tragic romance, contains smut)
Sweet Child of Mine (completed, fluff, happy ending for Johnny, use of Y/N, super self indulgent)
Gotta Teach Em' Young (completed, sort of sequel to Sweet Child of Mine but can be read as stand alone, no use of Y/N, pregnant!reader, soft Johnny)
A Tale of Twins in Night City (completed, super short fix-it fic, reader is V's twin)
Male!V
The Merc, The Princess and The Rocker (in progress, Male!V meets Jackie's sister and instantly falls in love and wants to give her everything in the world. Things go wrong when he wakes up with a terrorist in his head, contains smut, fix-it fic)
Final Fantasy
Noctis Lucis Caelum
Defying the Odds (completed, fix-it fic, contains smut, astral!reader)
Barnabas Tharmr
Always Been Mine (in progress, Rosfield!reader + Leviathan!reader, Barnabas is ordained to be your man and takes you away after Phoenix Gate)
Gladiator II
General Marcus Acacius
Ruined (completed, not movie accurate, princess!reader, arranged marriage, angsty)
inFamous
Delsin Rowe
Smoke and Lightning (completed, Reggie doesn't die, reader is Cole's sister who also has lightning powers)
Interview With The Vampire
Lestat de Lioncourt
His Favorite Human (completed, based off the 1994 movie, haven't seen the show yet, angsty romance, open ending, selfish Lestat)
Legend of Zelda
Link (BOTW/TOTK)
Running Out of Time (completed, princess!reader, follows the time leading up to BOTW, reader is Zelda's older sister, angst over heavy prophecy for duty and country)
Marvel
Sergei Kravinoff/Kraven
My Little Sunshine (completed one shot, pregnant!reader, Sergei being a girl dad, fluff to the max)
My Bloody Valentine (1981 & 2009)
Harry Warden
I'll Take You Away (completed, Harry Warden comes for you during his parade of blood because you kept him sane while he was down in the dark, smut and pregnancy mention, Valentine's Day Special 2024)
Cupcakes and Blood (in progress, your crush on Harry is evident, smut to come, Valentine's Day Special 2025)
Star Wars
Cal Kestis
Where The Moon Blossoms Grow (completed, SMUT, reunited after Order 66, follows the path of Jedi Survivor)
Din Djarin
Arguing in the Rain (very first work to AO3, completed, fluff and angst)
Qimir (The Stranger)
Fill in the Blanks (completed, memory loss then its regained, light smut)
Top Gun
Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw
Half As Long, Twice As Bright (completed, childhood sweethearts, includes Icemav being parents + Ethan Hunt being Pete Mitchell's twin)
Ties That Bind (completed, Halloween special 2024, includes Icemav being protective parents)
Forget About Your Ex (completed, Mitchell!Reader comes back home for springbreak after catching her bf in bed with her roommate, Bradley comforts you, SMUT)
Jake "Hangman" Seresin
Angel Wings (completed, first fic for the Top Gun fandom, Bradshaw!Reader)
One With The Sea (completed, Mermaid AU, mermaid!reader)
When Shadows Meet Again (ON HOLD, prominent Icemav, Regency AU, Jake is Tom's Son)
In A Galaxy Far Far Away (completed, combo of Star Wars + Top Gun, prominent Icemav)
It's You, It's Me, It's Us (in progress, latina!coded reader, childhood sweethearts, Mav walked out but comes back)
Twisters
Scott Miller
For The First Time (completed, Harding!Reader, childhood sweethearts, break up but gets back together)
Unknown Roads (completed, Harding!Reader, twister takes you back to 1996, Scott attempts to save his dad)
Tyler Owens
Won't Let You Go (completed, platonic Kate/Reader, Harding!Reader)
Whipping Winds (completed, first fic in the fandom after watching the movie)
Make Me A Daddy (completed, smut one-shot, fucking in Tyler's truck during a twister)
Love You To Mars and Back (completed, christmas special one-shot, very Hallmark coded, Harding!Reader)
Into The Storm (completed, Harding!Reader and Tyler get sucked up by a twister that takes them back to 1996, angst and fluff, inspired by Back To The Future, going 88 miles per hour into a twister)
Be There When I Wake (in progress, 50th fic on Ao3, reader is Javi's sister and was in a coma, wakes up to Tyler's handsome face)
Ultraman: Rising (2024)
Ken/Kenji Sato
A Brave New World (completed, most popular fic on my account, established relationship with Ken, basically follows the movie, fluffy goodness, reader is Emi's stepmom)
Vampyr (Video Game)
Dr. Jonathan Reid
Small Joy (completed, pregnant!reader, Jonathan falls in love with you despite being a newborn vampire and that you're pregnant with your late husband's child)
Stress Relief (completed, helping Jonathan study leads to shameless sex, smut)
#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw x mitchell!reader#jacob frye x reader#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin x mitchell!reader#icemav#ezio auditore x reader#alexios x reader#deimos x reader#tyler owens x reader#tyler owens x harding!reader#scott (twisters) x reader#scott miller x reader#scott miller x harding!reader#jake hangman x bradshaw!reader#top gun maverick#top gun fanfiction#assassin's creed fanfiction#twisters fanfic#ezio auditore#jacob frye#alexios#jake seresin#jake hangman seresin#bradley bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw#johnny silverhand x reader#male!V x reader
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Weapon Bayek, Alexios, Eivor
Bayek - Chopes
Together with Bayek you followed Templar to the arena. To get closer to him, you entered the tournaments. Truthfully, you didn't really want to do it, but Bayek convinced you that it was the right thing to do.
Bayek was your real weapon. Before the fight, you checked your pads while you examined the tattoo, the mark on your wrist.
It was an eagle-headed chopesh on a part of the blade decorated with hyreoglyphs. The hilt of the sword was bound in a way that reminded you of Bayek's clothes.
Asasin promised you everything would be alright and kissed you in encouragement. He knew you would make it.
You had to survive five fights in the arena to get to the Temolar, who was in the last one. All in all, you and Bayek did well and managed to defeat a few enemies without a fight, when you pushed them into the traps that were set in the arena.
In the last round you had a Templar waiting for you, to which you discovered that it had sold out as a weapon and become a demon. It was a really tough fight, and at one point you were even worried if you were going to make it at all.
Eventually though, with the help of an asasin, you managed to create a special attack that you used to defeat the Templar. Bayek then ate his soul. He said he didn't like doing it, that these souls were disgusting, but again, he did it so that they wouldn't appear on earth among the living.
After all that, Bayek took you to the edge of town to thank you for the way you fought today. You sat in the grass under the palm trees, fresh fruit on a cloth beside you, and watched the sunset together.
Gradually, you would sit closer. You'd lay your head on his shoulder and he'd kiss you on the lips.
Alexios - Tip of the spear
You were locked up in the prison of Cosmos. You were forced there because of the mark of the weapon on your wrist. The broken spear that you were carrying. But you didn't tell them anything because you hadn't found your weapon yet.
You heard screams and alarms from all over. The one who caused it was a mythios named Alexios who freed you and who wanted to know why you were being held there. After all, they wouldn't do that without a reason.
You told him you were being held there because of a weapon you didn't have. Alexios took you in his arms, since you were weak from the torture, and made his escape with you.
Cosmos was ready for you and prevented you from escaping. You were trapped. Alexios, however, had such an inkling of his master. You didn't want to fight, but you had no choice at the moment.
Alexios turned into a weapon and you grabbed him. The weapon began to glow and golden threads appeared around you, creating a perfectly fitting suit of armor. In your mind you could hear Alexios giving you advice on fighting, but you felt so connected to him that you didn't even need the advice. Eventually you got out of there unharmed.
When you got to safety, Alexios decided to keep you as his master. He made it far on his own, but with your help, he was able to defeat his sister, whom he held in his spare cosmos.
You were hesitant. You were glad you found your weapon, but you didn't know if his lifestyle was for you. Alexios took your hand surprisingly gently, the tattoo on it proving that you belonged together.
It was the end of a spear, with a damascus blade that was speckled with gold, forming the head of an eagle. The hilt was wrapped in red cloth, and the ends of it were interwoven with gold.
Alexios kissed your fingertips to show you that he wasn't just brute force, but could be gentle as well.
Eivor - One-handed battle axe
Eivor's previous master was Haytham, but he was not his true master, and he would be returning to Syria shortly.
Eivor was in a bad mood that day, as Haytham told me the news that he would be without a master very soon. By this time, you had joined the village. You were a new member of the village, a master without a weapon, who washed up on the shore of their settlement.
You had no idea you were only left in the village because of the mark on your wrist. Even though everyone told you that you were an honorary member of the village, you felt like you were in a prison because you weren't allowed to leave or leave without supervision.
You walked past the Viking and headed towards a less populated area of the village. You tried to give the impression that you were just out for a walk, but at the first opportunity you wanted to escape.
You were on the edge of the village when Eivor grabbed your arm. You slipped away and grabbed him like a weapon. Unexpectedly, a protector appeared on your arm. But you didn't care. You stuck him in a tree and took off running.
You didn't get very far, though, because the Viking caught up with you and knocked you down. Now that he knew you were his true master, he wasn't going to let you go. He threw you over his shoulder and carried you back to the village. You were about to be promoted. Eivor moved you into his longhouse, and gradually the Viking grew on you.
Assassin's Creed Masterlist
#assassin's creed#assassin's creed x reader#weapon au#bayek of siwa#bayek x reader#weapon bayek#alexios x reader#alexios#weapon alexios#eivor wolfkissed#eivor x reader#weapon eivor
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i love you, what did you say?
A/N - naturally, this is based off the original CR ask HERE
Bayek
Oh….do you care for him that way? If you do, don’t wander far from him
Altair
If you said something like this, he’ll do the “play it cool” routine but is a whole Mess™️ on the inside
Aya
If these are the times that she’s separated from Bayek, she finds comfort in this from you
Edward
It’s a sweet trait from you and said rugged pirate thinks it’s an endearingly cute dude to you
Jacob
A menace of a man 😆who makes a big spectacle out of it, telling the Rooks “oh they love me 😌”
Yusuf
Oh so you just say such a phrase so casually, even if he feels serious about you?
Evie
Got caught off guard and responds back casually too but she’s wondering if maybe there could be more
Ezio
A relentless flirt who teases you about it, going on saying “there may be a line, amore, but you’re always first for me”
Connor
Such a shy reaction because it comes across as something so genuine to him
Aveline
Knows what you meant by it and she calls you cherie back too, but yeah, she may want something more than friendship
Alexios
404.exe mercenary has stopped working and is left pondering over this for a good while
Arno
ok be nice to him 😅 he’s suffered enough
But if you offhandedly said it, there’s a part of him that deeply, truly wants you both to be together
Desmond
He probably teases you a bit about it but thinks it’s cute someone cares about him some way
Eivor
Deep look into your eyes, asks if you really mean that
Kassandra
She has not felt such a way since Daphanae, or maybe Eivor, in her many lifetimes so you saying such a phrase gives her a sliver of hope
#assassin's creed#assassin’s creed x reader#ezio auditore de firenze#ratonhnhaké:ton#connor kenway x reader#edward kenway#my writing#headcanons#arno dorian#evie frye#jacob frye x reader#aya of alexandria#yusuf tazim#bayek of siwa#bayek x reader#kassandra of sparta#Alexios x reader#eivor wolfkissed#eivor wolfsmal#aveline de grandpre#altaïr ibn la’ahad#altair ibn la'ahad x reader#writeblr#desmond miles#desmond miles x reader#basim ibn ishaq#Basim x reader#arno dorian x reader#jacob frye#ezio auditore
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Lover(s)
Part 1: Καλώς ήρθατε στον Παράδεισο (Welcome To Paradise)
A sea of crystal waters that stretched from the bleached white villa set upon the hills was the picturesque view that captivated you and took your breath away. The invitation to spend the better part of 6 months in Greece on your cousin’s dime was well worth it, and you jumped at the opportunity.
The event that brought you to Greece in the first place was her wedding to her fiancé, a woman whose wealthy Greek family was going to put you up for 6 months. There would be 6 months of inescapable views of the ancient cities, and as many tours as you could possibly want before the big day.
Calliope, your sister’s fiancé, had offered to arrange some people to take care of you while you were here. She didn’t necessarily explain who would be your unofficial yet official guide for the next 6 months, only that you would be in very good hands. And with the promise of two people, who Calliope assured you would take very good care of you, you’d agreed.
There was little resistance to the idea, and even less to the graciousness of your sister’s fiancé's family. The large Greek family had maintained that you and your sister Dessa, were part of their family now—technically extended but they considered you blood relatives.
It was a nice change from you and your sister’s own experiences with family falling short which had mostly revolved around Dessa’s sexuality. Neither of your parents approved and they made her, and by extension you, choose who you would support. The ultimate choice you made had made you distanced from your parents while drawing you closer to Dessa.
You were only 16 when they made you choose whether to shun Dessa, who was 20 at the time, like your parents wanted. Your choice was instant and natural as you cleaved to your sister instead of your parents, and the aftermath of that choice was for them to kick you out.
And disinherit Dessa and yourself from whatever family you had.
After you chose, the wrong choice by your parent’s words, you had moved in with Dessa to her small two-bedroom apartment and helped pay rent. You hadn’t looked back, you didn’t try and reconnect with your parents, and you'd never regretted it. You and Dessa were sisters, your bond as sister’s was unbreakable and you would always support her when she needed it.
Exactly three years after being kicked out of your parents' house you had went to college, taking several photography courses. You had always loved the art of photography and the ability to embrace beauty through captured images. Your courses were something you'd found yourself reveling in, and there was such a passion for it.
As for Dessa, she had focused on a degree in historical literature, which in itself had given her an opportunity to go to Greece. There she would study some of the oldest texts in the known world at the National Archaeological Museum in Athens.
It was during that trip that she had met Calliope and fell head over heels for the beautiful Greek woman who was, ironically, studying the same materials. Dessa had talked nonstop about this woman that stole her breath and heart in just one word, and it was not soon after that they had begun dating.
Now Dessa was 26 years old, graduated with a degree in historical literature, and busy planning her wedding in 6 months. Calliope and Dessa were the most beautiful and perfect couple you had ever known, both of them kindred spirits who found each other’s soul flame in the other.
The Aetos family had welcomed not just Dessa into their family as if she were always meant to be there, and they had supported Calliope and Dessa’s relationship like your family should have.
🩶🤍🩶🤍🩶🤍🩶🤍
“Απολαμβάνεις τη θέα, αδελφή?” The question that stirred your attention from the beautiful waters of the sea had directed your attention behind you. Calliope was standing at the edge of the guestroom you had been given, carrying a woven basket of fresh baked bread, fruits, nuts, and honey. (Enjoying the view, sister?)
While you had not understood Greek, you understood the sentiment and fondness in her voice. Calliope was like a sister to you, caring about you just as much as your blood sister had, and you were excited to welcome her to your family—your family being you and Dessa.
“A gift from my mother to welcome you to our home,” Calliope had stepped forward and set the basket of food, more than you could’ve imagined, on the small circular table near the balcony.
After she had set it down, she had walked toward you and rest a hand on your left shoulder, squeezing lightly before she leaned in and sighed. “It is beautiful, isn’t it? Such old waters yet they never get any less captivating.”
“It’s like I'm in another world.” You admitted without hesitation, knowing that Calliope was right about the beauty of the Greece and ever surrounding island that you'd hoped to visit. “Your family is...thank you for allowing me to stay here for the next 6 months.”
Calliope had turned her head to look you over, studying you with a familial intrigue. Her brown eyes were warm, deep, and rich with a kind of softness that alluded to who she was as a person. Calliope lived and breathed for her family, for Dessa and for you as your future sister-in-law, and her beauty was more than just outward.
“You are my sister, our family. You are more than welcome to be here.” She placed her other hand on your shoulders and squeezed tenderly, leaning in to give you a side hug that was reciprocated. It had only lasted a moment or two before she pulled away and reached out to brush some of your hair off your forehead and out of your eyes.
“Dessa and I are going to dinner with friends tomorrow, I would like you to come with us. I even have a dress you can wear.” Calliope had stepped away from you and moved back toward your bed, stopping to sit on the edge. You watched her as she had bent down to pick up an embossed paper bag from the floor, setting it down on the mattress.
“These friends, are they the people you arranged to take care of me while I'm here?” You questioned Calliope as you closed the double French doors that led to the balcony, cutting off your view of the sea. However, even with the doors shut you were blissfully able to hear the waves and smell the salt of the water—both of which you were becoming endeared to.
“Maybe,” Calliope shrugged and passed her braid from off her shoulder to her back, that single motion coming before she reached into the bag and pulled out the dress, she had for you. “I think it would be a good opportunity to get to know them. They're brother and sister you know, and incredibly good friends of my family.”
“Brother and sister?” You shuffled toward the bed, grasping the dress as she held it out to you and began to unfold it, holding it up in front of you.
It was soft with a colour that was reminiscent of a bluebell with the same tapering of the lighter shade of blue near the petals of the flower to the darker shade near the pistil. The straps of the dress were thin and tapered off at the nape of your neck with a v-neckline that would give you coverage while keeping you cool in the Greek heat. The dress fell to your middle of your thighs with an airiness that perfectly fit the climate.
“You’ll come with us, yes?” Calliope had gently tugged on the dress, lowering it to the bed once more. As it had been removed from your hands, she had looked at you with eager determination and hopefulness as she was on the same kind of mission your sister was—to make your 6 months in Greece absolutely incredible.
“Okay.” Your answer was short and simple, as single word that was given as a response to Calliope’s question. And despite how simple it was and how quickly it had been given, it had still brought a warm and bright smile to your future sister in laws face. She had risen from the bed and came toward you with that bright smile on her face, her brown eyes alight with something you couldn’t read. “What?”
Calliope cupped your cheeks in her hands and leaned forward, her eyes boring into your own as her smile grew. There was a moment of silence as you looked at each other waiting for something to be said and then she finally leaned in and kissed your cheek in a sisterly manner.
“You’re going to have the best time here.”
🩶🤍🩶🤍🩶🤍🩶🤍
#assassin’s creed odyssey#assassin’s creed#kassandra x reader imagine#kassandra x reader#Kassandra x reader fluff#Kassandra of Sparta x reader#Kassandra of Sparta x reader fluff#modern!Kassandra of Sparta#modern!Kassandra of Sparta x reader#alexios x reader imagine#alexios x reader#Alexios of Sparta x reader#Alexios of Sparta x reader fluff#Alexios of Sparta x reader imagines#modern!Alexios#modern!Alexios of Sparta#assassin’s creed odyssey series#Alexios x reader x Kassandra#Alexios of Sparta x reader x Kassandra of Sparta#lover(s) masterlist#lover(s) series#lover(s)
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❝contains: alexios of sparta, kassandra of sparta❞ ✩ — fan favourite ♡ — contains smut
ᯓ★ 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬:
acteon ♡
ᯓ★ 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬:
how he shows affection
ᯓ★ 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬:
can't take my eyes off you
sweet treats
sweet treats II ♡
breathless at a misthios' hand ♡
a weapon and her heart ♡
seashells
scarred kisses
ᯓ★ 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬:
nervous with an oblivious crush
⊹₊ liked it? why not: ∘ buy me a coffee? ∘ comms. ∘ taglist ∘ follow/reblog
#alexios of sparta x reader#alexios x reader#alexios#alexios of sparta#assassins creed fanfiction#assassins creed fanfic#assassins creed#assassins creed x reader#assassins creed odyssey#assassins creed odyssey x reader#alexios of sparta x reader smut#alexios x reader smut#alexios smut#alexios of sparta smut#assassins creed x reader smut#kassnadra x reader#kassnadra#kassnadra x fem reader#kassnadra x female reader#kassnadra x reader smut#kassnadra smut#kassnadra x fem reader smut#kassnadra x female reader smut
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Assassin’s Creed Odyssey Fanfiction
Aphrodite’s Favor:
The Eagle Bearer, famed misthios, grandson of King Leonides, favoured by the Gods. But before he earned his standing in the world, he was simply Alexios, a Spartan boy raised on Kephallonia after suffering a tragedy. Lonely, his only companion being a golden eagle and a sketchy conman, Lady Aphrodite takes pity on him. He’s already suffered a number of unbearable tragedies, and yet his trials are far from over. This chosen hero of the Gods, suffering and danger hewn into his very being, is to be gifted with a love that no other will ever experience. A story of those with the blood of the Gods, who stand by each other in a war torn world and strive to reunite their family. The story of two heroes during the Peloponesian War- Alexios and Althaia.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/46853581
τέλος:
Kassandra’s life on Kephallonia wasn’t always easy. She wasn’t necessarily alone, she did have Phoibe and Markos, her little makeshift family. But, no matter how much she adored Phoibe or owed Markos, it didn’t keep her from feeling lonely. Until she met Calista, that is.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/46855255
|| CHOOSE YOUR MISTHIOS ||
#assassin's creed#assassin’s creed odyssey#assassin’s creed fanfiction#ac odyssey#odyssey#Ancient Greece#alexios#kassandra#alexios x reader#kassandra x reader#misthios#deimos#wlw#eagle bearer#Kephallonia#ao3#fanfiction#assassins#battle couple#demigods#ancient sparta#ancient athens#ancient greek#ancient greek culture#game rewrite#ikaros#kassandra of sparta#alexios of sparta#Kassandra fanfiction#Alexios fanfiction
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Head cannons bc I can - Assassin’s body parts preferences (and extras...)
AN: I would just like to say that ALL of the Assassin's will protect their love with their lives, not standing for any disrespect or rudeness toward her in any way shape or form. I may not have put it in the description of every Assassin, but it goes without saying. ALSO, plz don't @ me bc this is my first ever spicy post lol
Altair Ibn La’Ahad - loves burying his face in her neck and grabbing her backside cheekily lol, loves bathing with her but won’t deny that’s it’s hard to control himself around her naked body. Comes to her after a mission (if they didn't go on it together that is or if she's not an assassin) to hold her and just melts against her, grateful to have her and be back in her arms alive. Pulls her away ever so often to a corner where he'll kiss her breathless and then just walk off like nothing happened (this man-), loves to chase lol if she runs from him, it sets something deep and primal off in him, and when he eventually catches her? 😳😳😳
Shay Patrick Cormac - definitely breasts lol and has a thing for waists, also loves thighs & has a thing for kissing from the top of her foot to the inside of her thighs, this man can pick up grown soldiers, flip them over his shoulder and then just toss them to the ground like it nothing so he’s strong - tell.me he doesn’t pick up his love and carry her off for some alone time. She won't have to worry about anyone on the Morrigan getting any ideas because Shay has made it VERY clear that she's his and his only. He'll legit fight for her if someone makes her uncomfortable or harasses her and make them regret the day they were born (that is if they can even think afterward bc they'll probably be dead). It - depending on the mood he's in - makes him feel very loved and cared for or very turned on and ready to pin her down, when she kisses the scar over his eye. Don't even get me started on how naughty this fricken man is in Irish Gaelic. (Sir! Control thyself!)
Edward Kenway - an ass man for sure and he loves the thighs too, stands behind her and glares at anyone who checks her out from his spot behind her where he’ll press a possessive kiss to her shoulder while glaring at them. Why do I have feeling that this man has a thing for women who can shoot guns? If she shoots a gun in front of him all pirate-esque he'll literally beg her to step on him haha. Loves him a mouthy feisty woman because not only does it turn.him.on, he gets a kick out of a lovely woman being able to blow someone out of the water with her insults & statements of self-defense. Will also waylay anyone who disrespects her, he'll actually feed them their teeth (don't test him with her)
Jacob Ethan Frye - both the man’s bi lol he can have both if he wants, he for sure does playful butt pats and grabs occasionally but usually when they’re alone (USUALLY & if a Rook bore witness? THEY SAW NOTHING), definitely into holding his love on his lap and whispering dirty things in her ear to fluster her. Will fight to protect her and God help them because they'll have him and the Rooks to deal with (that is if Jacob doesn't crush them and turn them into dust that blows away in the wind lol). Also loves him a feisty and mouthy woman, if she's sarcastic, witty and goofy on top of that? This man is more whipped than whipped cream. Total gentleman even if she can hand his ass to him on a silver platter, he still treats her with utmost respect. Enjoys lying in bed with her and cuddling (give the man all the cuddles STAT) lazily playing with her hair and believe it not - not all kissing with the amorous assassin leads to *wink wink*. He genuinely enjoys laying there with her on a slow day and kissing her sweetly, over and over again. Man is a genuine romantic sweetheart (and nothing will change my mind). It's not an odd occurrence for Evie to wonder where her younger brother is, only to find him conked out on his love's chest just peacefully snoozing away as she holds him reading a book or some files. Totally see him tracing his fingers down her sternum until he reaches her breasts and tracing the insides of them to get her riled up (if he's feeling mean he'll even give a cheeky kiss haha). Also loves to chase her across rooftops and make bets of a spicier nature...
Evie Frye - loves to kiss her loves hands & jaw (particularly that one little spot…) and trace kisses down her sternum, has a habit of cornering her and making out with her lol then she just goes on about her day like nothing happened, plays footsies underneath table surfaces (CHANGE MY MIND). Loves all of her and honestly don't think she would have a preference, Evie's just grateful to have her at all and be with her. Woman was dedicated to being alone as a result of being in the Brotherhood. Think she would get a kick out of witty and playful banter, the more her love speaks the more in love she falls and the more she desires her. She's good with her hands. I said it. Sue me. She.has.good.hands. The woman tis skilled (in more ways than one...) This also pertains to corsets and buttons whether it be doing them or undoing them... Kind think she would like chasing her love through the city too and if it ends up in a garden? The woman internally swoons.
Kassandra of Sparta - breasts she likes pulling her love against her and then looking down to see them pressed against her armor being gorgeous as usual and she loves to grab hips, she will CUT Alcibiades if he looks at her love lol bc she KNOWS what he's thinking about, only lets her hair down around her love and adores laying in between her thighs while her fingers give her a head a very relaxing massage (seriously they can put the woman to sleep lol)
Ratonhnhake:ton/Connor Kenway - I think we can all agree that this sweet man isn't very sexual BUT once he settles down, he does have an appreciation for his loves figure. Loves to hover over her from behind and kiss the top of her head, and when things get more intimate between them, he loves to give her kisses all over her face. Flowers with him would be a common occurrence, often times she wakes up to beautiful wildflowers on her bedside table or on the pillow beside her. This man is a good provider. And if she takes an interest in hunting with him, more than a few times he'll briefly lose interest in hunting the animal and playfully hunting her instead... Feel like he strokes her legs lovingly and takes his time exploring the sexual feelings he has for her. He would love her breasts because they're beautiful, soft and full of life.
Alexios of Sparta - ass for sure he seems like a butt smacker haha she’ll be minding her own business when he comes out of nowhere and gives her a light loving smack. He comes up behind her and literally sweeps her off her feet - no pleasantries, just "you're mine now" lol
Haytham Kenway - breasts has a thing for tracing the tops of them when she wears dresses to get her riled up all while delivering an “innocent” kiss to her flaming red cheek, will randomly stoop to her level to whisper something 😳 in her ear. Get a vibe that he would spoil her with beautiful jewelry and then woo her until it's the only thing she has on, before taking her to bed... Morning sex seems like the norm for him because he's not always there when she falls asleep arriving home late, but when he sees her in the morning, he more than makes it up to her and greets her in very steamy manner. He reminds her to remain neutral when she stands next to him during a meeting as he sits down with his hand hidden by her dress on her backside gently squeezing and acting completely casual about it the cheeky -
Desmond Miles - breasts & when Shaun stresses him out, he presses his head into them lol it’s stress relieving, comes up behind her and hugs her tightly, definitely into spooning he likes the physical contact, and he melts when she kisses his forehead. Before everything he screwed, but now with the woman he loves? He makes love and thoroughly enjoys every second of it with her. Having her by his side through everything means more to him than he can express.
Arno Victor Dorian - this man feels like a worshipper he would love all of her body and take his time with her, but he does tend to go for breasts more coming out of nowhere and kissing the tops of them reverently throughout the day, definitely takes her hand in his and kisses it with full eye contact to the point where it makes her blush, earning a chuckle from him. Tell me that this man doesn't pull her away to corners throughout the day or on a mission and kiss her before walking away casually like nothing happened lol. Got a feeling he's very into whisking his love away just getting her attention and pulling her away to wherever they can have a few moments alone together. Good kisser. I refuse to believe anything else. He swoops in gives a sweet kiss that leaves her flustered, and he stands there watching her with a smile on his face. For some reason I think he's into the whole secret lover rendezvous thing, aka coming in through his love's window or meeting her secretly (it's exciting and he gets her all alone...)
Ezio Auditore Da Firenze - also feels like a worshipping type of man except everywhere, everything, all the time lol, but he does have a preference for breasts often times hugging his love around the waist and burying his face in them. We've all seen how this man has thing for pinning his lady to the wall...do with it what you will. But he does it to her and OFTEN lol. A little more promiscuous in public - stopping of course if she gets uncomfortable - than others and is not afraid to show how he feels about her. Also, a good kisser. I mean COME ON.
Bayek of Siwa - he loves her breasts because beneath them lies her heart and he cherishes the fact that she has given it to him, loves to star gaze with her - they lay there together peacefully as he tells her about the constellations and their meaning. Loves bathing with her just laying back and relaxing, eyes roving her form as she cleans him and gives him a shave (he refuses to shave unless she does it for him bc he loves her touch and how great her handiwork is). Gives the kinds of kisses that melt her like a stick of butter lol, a kiss from him has a lot of emotion poured into it telling without words how much he loves her.
#assassins creed#ac: syndicate#ac: odyssey#ac: unity#ac2#ac3#desmond miles#connor kenway#evie frye#jacob frye#ezio auditore da firenze#arno victor dorian#edward kenway#kassandra of sparta#haytham kenway#shay patrick cormac#alexios of sparta#altair ibn la'ahad#ac1#assassin’s creed x reader#ratonhnhaké:ton#ac: origins#ac: black flag#bayek of siwa#can you tell that the Frye twins have me in a chokehold? LOL
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Congratulations I guess ? || J.Hughes
social media au
summary : you finally graduated from NYU after all you moved there to be closer Jack , but you guys broke up after his debut . 2019
yourusername:
location : NYU ||









liked by _quinnhughes , jackhughes , and 601,004 likes
yourusername: we did it ! we are officially done with crying eyes out every day at NYU everyday , finally got my degree with Taylor swift 😝. Ft Achileas cause we the cool kids and my second cool dad 🤨
tagged: achi_of_greece , Taylor swift
comments:
lhughes_06 : okay smartass you graduated before me . proud of you tho come to nj soon !
~ yourusername: maybe should’ve stayed in Mich but thank you , soon maybe 😜
username458 : you’re a lucky imagine graduating with Taylor swift 😭😭
liked by yourusername
Achi_of_greece : off to Greece we go 😫we partying out !
~ yourusername : ciao we in love with that idea let’s go 😍
_alextrucotte: congratulations lil sis !! when you coming back to Mich we miss you out here 🤥
~ yourusername: thank you Alex !! maybe in few weeks hopefully soon !!
jackhughes: congratulations 🍾 proud of you I guess
~_quinnhughes: : what’s I guess ? You’re not fun
_quinnhughes: proud of you lil kid , you’re finally grown . See you in summa kid !!
trevorzegras: Taylor swift ?!?!?! the audacity not invite me to your graduation 🤨
~ yourusername : maybe if you weren’t in the playoff you swifter . Also not even a congratulations ? 😀
Trevorzegras: oh you’re right , and congratulations little detective 🚨
liked by yourusername
Elblue6: congratulations beautiful! you did well proud of you 👍
~ yourusername: @_quinnhughes @elblue6 thank you I miss you both , see you too quinnnie 🤍!
yourusername : @jackhughes thank you I guess ?
Alexiosgreece: congratulations to you both , glad to see walk today 🤍
~ yourusername: glad to see you as well , see you in a bit ☺️
usaferts: I’m here tryna figure out who’s she’s dating now , jack , alexio or achileas ? 😭
Olympiagreece: following in my footsteps honey I love you ❤️
~ yourusername: you’re my bigggest dream 🤭
NYU: let’s go detective !
liked by yourusername
taylorswift: glad to walk the stage with you ❤️
~yourusername : glad to see you again !
trevorzegras: again excuse me ?!?!
Siennaschmidt: congratulations beautiful 😍
~ yourusername: oh ? thank you 🧍🏽♀️🫶🏽
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#jack hughes#jack hughes blurb#jack hughes nhl#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes game#jack hughes imagine#nj devils#jack hughes insta edit#jack hughes wife#quinn hughes#luke hughes#trevor zegras#achi of Greece#achileas#alexios#prince ALEXIOS
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I love imagining stuff like this. Like imagine trying to explain something like the internet to Eivor or Alexios and Kassandra, poor bastards would be so confused. Idk why but I imagine Eivor no matter how you explain it, just insisting that it's magic or whatever the norse would call it.
Imagine trying to explain to Ezio what the term derpy means.
Or worse rizz
“So what you’re saying is I am a master rizz”
Imagine explaining to Malik google maps
He be so mad like
“” you mean people don’t have to draw maps where your from?!”
Imagine explaining to Desmond the havoc of COVID
Poor man would be so confused
“ what why did they buy all the toilet paper?”
I’m also 100% sure both Malik and Evie would want a copy of “the internet”
“ where can I purchase this magical book?”
#assassin's creed#assassin's creed syndicate#assassins creed headcanons#ezio auditore x reader#ezio auditore da firenze#malik al sayf#evie frye#desmond miles#eivor wolfkissed#eagle bearer#assassins creed kassandra#assassins creed alexios#assassins creed valhalla#assassins creed odyssey
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the hidden one
❝ i just saved you, mi corazón. you could at least thank me. ❞
PAIRING ▸ pirate!choi seungcheol x assassin!fem!reader
GENRES ▸ smut, fluff, humor, some action, historical au, assassin's creed: black flag au (although you don't need to know the lore to read this), pirate au, royal au
WARNINGS ▸ profanity, slow burn, strangers to lovers, copious amounts of pining, mild depictions of violence, character death, forced proximity, so much banter, hurt/comfort, political tension, family issues, booseoksoon as the pirate underlings, lots of 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.
PLAYLIST ▸ he's a pirate by hans zimmer, klaus badelt, geoffrey zanelli • the medallion calls by klaus badelt • leonardo's inventions, pt. 2 by jesper kyd • assassin's creed iv black flag theme by brian tyler • mermaids by hans zimmer
WORD COUNT ▸ 31,390 words
AUTHOR'S NOTE ▸ wrote this for my alexios-pilled pookumsnookums @amourcheol :^) extended author's note here
Freedom, Sancho, is one of the most precious gifts that heaven has bestowed upon men; no treasures that the earth holds buried or the sea conceals can compare with it; for freedom, as for honour, life may and should be ventured; and on the other hand, captivity is the greatest evil that can fall to the lot of man.
— Miguel de Cervantes, Don Quixote
March 24th, 1725 Sevilla, Andalucía, Spain
AT FIRST, ALL HE COULD TASTE WAS SAND AND SEAWATER.
Choi Seungcheol only realized his body was aching all over when all feeling returned to the tips of his fingers. He was laying on his stomach on wet sand, occasionally roused back into consciousness by a cold wave that whispered promises of suffering in his ears. Still, his eyelids were too heavy for him to drag his brittle bones back up to his feet. The sun beat down on him—so hot that he was sure he would be roasted alive.
When he tried to get to his feet, his pruney fingers digging into the sand, getting under his raw-bitten nails, he had to squint before his eyes adjusted to the glaring sunlight. His lungs felt like they were on fire. His head hurt. The corners of his eyes stung from the salt.
He was on the shore of a beach.
When Seungcheol looked around, the area around him was surrounded by steep cliffs, jutting out of the ground like a carcass. That must have been why he was alone in the ocean cove; no one had spotted his motionless body for however long he had been washed up ashore. He couldn’t even tell how long he had been passed out on the sand.
There was nothing around him, so he must have lost everything while he was desperately paddling in the water. His robes and overcoat were long gone, leaving him in a loose white shirt and baggy trousers. At the very least, he wished he had his boots, but even those were lost to the sea.
His memories came back to him in fragmented shards of recollections—the raging storm, the shipwreck, the screams of his crew. The consuming guilt of being the only survivor. There was nothing for him to bring back to their families. Nothing to say to their hopeful wives and kids. And maybe there was hope that more survived, but the longer Seungcheol tried to think about it, he just remembered how the mast of his ship catastrophically collapsed while his crewmates were floundering around the deck of his ship, The Golden Corsair.
He laid on the sand for longer. Maybe hours longer. It was as if the grief left him immobilized, hardly flinching even as a particularly big wave crashed over him. His tongue felt so dry that he could barely open his mouth, but once he did, the corners of his lips tasted like salt.
And he felt guilty to even be breathing.
A captain was supposed to go down with his ship, yet here he was.
It was a miracle he survived, really. With the conditions of the sea and the harsh waves that threatened to pull him under, Seungcheol was amazed he escaped with his life. It was a stroke of luck that he found a barrel to keep himself afloat for as long as it did.
Seungcheol rolled over onto his stomach finally, and he dry-heaved until his lungs were burning.
“Oi! It’s the cap’n!” came a faint holler in the distance.
Seungcheol recognized the voice in an instant. His chest swelled with hope, giving him a final burst of strength to lift himself up onto his elbows.
Aching and bruised, Seungcheol got to his feet. His lips were dry and bitten raw; he could taste blood where his skin peeled. His tongue felt sanded down to the muscle. His gums ached. His knees felt like they were going to give out.
Three figures came running at him, stumbling and tripping over their own feet from the thick sand pulling them down. Boo Seungkwan, Lee Seokmin, and Kwon Soonyoung were frantically waving their arms over their heads to get Seungcheol’s attention, crying out their gratitude that their beloved captain was still alive. They were decent seamen, but most of the crew knew them as the musicians on board, beckoned over whenever somebody wanted to be entertained. But, oh, did they pour their heart and soul into their sea shanties.
“You lot!” Seungcheol croaked out, astonished. His throat felt as if he had swallowed a thousand blades. “How’d you survive the storm? Did… did anyone else make it? Did you see?”
He half-expected the trio to exclaim that the whole crew was waiting elsewhere, that they were just looking for him. However, the three gave each other wary looks and let their heads hang with deep sorrow drawn across their faces.
“Couldn’t find any of ‘em,” Soonyoung muttered sadly, cradling his injured arm. “Davy Jones must’ve took ‘em.”
Seungcheol almost thought he was hallucinating as soon as the words rang in his ears, and he hoped the sand would just swallow him into some pit.
Still, some fondness curled in his chest at the sight of Seungkwan, Seokmin, and Soonyoung. Sure, he could’ve lucked out with more useful company, but at least he had three less souls to weigh over his heart.
“We thought you were done for when you fell with the mast, Cap’n. The rest of us had no clue what to do. Some of ‘em jumped out to help you, but… poor bastards—the waves were too strong,” Seungkwan explained, and Seungcheol could see that he had seen horrors beyond his greatest fears by the distant look in his eyes. “We tried to keep the ship afloat, but the waves were too rough. Seokmin went overboard first, then Soonyoung, then me.”
“Bit harsh on Soonyoung, weren’t they?” Seokmin recalled. “Kept hearing ‘let that oaf drown!’ from ol’ Whitehead when we tried to save him.”
“What?” Soonyoung choked out, deeply offended. “That bloody bastard. What did I ever do to him?”
“Told everyone he had a case of scurvy, I heard.”
“Ah, yes, I remember,” Seungcheol ruminated with a certain fondness that was quite different from the grief over the rest of his crew, mostly because everyone knew Whitehead was going to drop dead eventually—storm or not. “A sight that could put a man off his rum, it was.”
Seokmin shook his head in agreement. “Wouldn’t kiss my mum with that mouth.”
Outrage subsiding, Soonyoung gave a sideways jerk of his head in reluctant agreement. “That I did say, but to leave me to die over his bloody gums?” He scoffed. “No camaraderie these days. What did he expect me to do? Ignore his ugly kisser?”
Seungkwan scowled reproachfully. “I would have thrown you overboard meself, if I had the chance. You threw me clothes overboard over a lousy play last week!”
“You just do not understand the art of performance, Kwan.”
“What you will be understanding is how that tree branch over there is going to feel up your arse, Soonyoung.”
Out of his entire crew of feared pirates, Captain Choi Seungcheol was stuck with the three biggest buffoons of the seven seas.
“Oi!” he exclaimed in his booming voice, silencing the bickering immediately. He looked at all of them carefully before asking, “Focus, you scoundrels. What happened after?”
Seungkwan started, “I found Soonyoung ‘n Seokmin layin’ on the shore like a pair of ugly, dead fish—”
“Unnecessary comparison, don’t you think?” Soonyoung grumbled close to Seokmin’s ear.
“—‘n we ended up roamin’ the perimeter, but you’re the only one we found. It’s a miracle to even be alive, Cap’n… so it’s hard to imagine that the rest of ‘em… y’know, made it.”
His heart gave one final plunge into a pit of despair. As his three remaining crewmates harped on about the crash, the captain screwed his eyes shut. There were hundreds of people who feared the crossbones and skull sign because of his very name, and now Seungcheol had lost everything.
“We must find a way back to England,” Seungcheol muttered.
The three of them went quiet, as if they were waiting for Seungcheol to command them. He felt as though his brain was going a little funny from the scathing heat, and it took him several, unblinking seconds to process that they were expecting further directions.
Seungcheol looked around the stretch of the shoreline. They had nothing—no money, no weapons, no ship—and they were stranded on some unknown land.
But he was Captain Choi Seungcheol—the man who cheated Davy Jones countless times, the man who was feared from the islands of the Caribbean to the shores of Madagascar. If there was anyone who could get their way out of this predicament, it was him.
“We will need to find a ship,” he declared. “But in waters like these, we will need one that sails as smooth as The Golden Corsair. Let us first determine where we find ourselves.”
After several unblinking minutes of scanning the shoreline, he set off in the direction of the cliffs, and his crew of three followed him across the sand with heavy legs.
The four pirates made their trek away from the beach, walking barefoot on a dirt trail for what felt like ages. Seungcheol was persistent, though; he knew the area was familiar, and he was rewarded with the sight of a city bustling with life. After eavesdropping on a few conversations, he was delighted to realize that he knew what language the locals were speaking. He was quite proficient in Andalusian Spanish, having studied the language far before he became a pirate.
Seungcheol ordered his three men to go around and find out where they were and if there was a tavern nearby where they could rest. Seungkwan was told to get lost, Seokmin couldn’t figure out a way to communicate effectively with the locals, and Soonyoung lost his patience too quickly and ended conversations as quickly as they began. Their captain was the only one who managed to figure out that they were in Sevilla, Spain.
The silver lining in that was that Seungcheol already had a few acquaintances around Sevilla. His crew had stopped in the port a few times during their travels, so, naturally, he made a few connections that could prove to be useful. One of them would surely shelter them for a few nights.
In the center of the city, there were several booths lined up with merchants selling their goods. The market wrapped around the block; Seungcheol could hardly walk anywhere without being called over to buy something. In Seokmin’s case, he could hardly walk anywhere without getting distracted by something shiny.
This wasn’t the sort of place Seungcheol wanted to be in. There were thieves littered everywhere in these parts and his crew had nothing to defend themselves with. Moreover, Seungcheol had nothing to properly disguise himself, so if the Spanish authorities recognized him, he and his men would most likely be executed on the spot.
On the bright side, Soonyoung managed to knick some tattered shoes from a nearby pub. Apparently, he was lurking in the corner until a brawl broke out. While the men were drunkenly punching at each other and kicking off their boots to lunge at each other, Soonyoung snagged several pairs that were strewn aside as he walked out.
They wandered the market, looking for something to eat, but none of them had any money. Maybe if one of them could distract one of the shopkeepers, Seungcheol could sneak behind a booth and—
“Si no van a comprar, ¡no están bienvenidos!”
The sharp voice cut through the clamor in the market. Seungcheol turned immediately to see what all the commotion was about. Someone was refusing to pay? If everyone’s attention was diverted, then it was the perfect opportunity to grab some food from an unattended booth.
But, when he took a closer look, the woman being yelled at had the same disoriented shock in her eyes that Seungcheol once had. It was almost like looking in a mirror, seeing his old, cowardly self before him.
When he decided to become a pirate, Seungcheol left his cushy life behind without ever looking back. He was educated in languages, literacy, and arithmetics before he even realized his love for adventure. It was his aunt, the woman who raised him after his parents’ untimely deaths, who showed him that possessing great power was meaningless if you didn’t have the strength to protect others.
Initially, she was a pirate herself, but the Royal Navy enlisted her help as a privateer to take down Wukou ships. Her success was nothing but heroic, but she wasn’t rewarded like the other royal armed forces were. After the Royal Navy got what they wanted, they killed her silently and passed off her murder as a casualty of war.
That was the day Seungcheol decided he wasn’t going to sit quietly and comply. His pirate crew started small, but it grew over the years, and he was soon infamous across the Caribbean and a threat to the Kingdom of England.
Seungkwan’s eyes lit up with mischief. “This is our chance! While she distracts him, let us—” He cut himself off when he noticed his captain was no longer by his side, and Seungkwan whipped his head in every direction. “Cap’n? Where’d you go?”
With a retired sigh, Seungcheol walked over to where you were and put his hand on your shoulder. His dark, unkempt hair fell over his forehead, concealing the scar that ran from his forehead to his cheek.
He played the role of your husband, claiming that you weren’t very fluent in the language and were just asking for directions. The shopkeeper, who was pleased to hear an explanation he could understand, let you both off with a warning. Although a dark look was cast across your face, you went along with Seungcheol when he dragged you aside.
Seungkwan, Seokmin, and Soonyoung exchanged odd looks after Seungcheol brought you over. They all seemed to be under the impression that their captain was out of his mind, and Seungcheol would be lying if he said the heat wasn’t making his brain feel funny.
“Excuse me—where are you taking me?” you demanded, bordering on fright when you realized that you had been dragged to an alleyway with four men surrounding you. “Unhand me at once!”
He pulled you behind a stack of crates that conveniently concealed the five of them from the bustling street outside the alley. Seungcheol realized his actions came across as threatening, but his words weren’t meant for others to hear, and he didn’t exactly want you to go around spouting that they were pirates.
Seungcheol released his grip on you, turning in time to catch your glare. His features softened and he let out a sigh.
He started, “My apologies for—”
Before he could get any more words out, Seungcheol felt his arm jerk forward before you managed to completely flip him over your shoulder and onto the solid ground. He grunted in pain, squinting to make out your angry face in the blinding sunlight. When he tried to budge, he felt the cool metal of your dagger pressing against his throat.
“What are you doin’ to our cap’n?!” Soonyoung shouted, although no amount of fury could mask how equally impressed he sounded. “And can you do it again?”
“Oi,” Seokmin whispered harshly, elbowing Soonyoung in the side, “ask her to do it to one of us, not the cap’n!”
“Right. Then how ‘bout Seungkwan? Give him a toss.”
Seokmin seemed to agree with this decision, giving the pirate a resolute nod of his head before turning to you. “Slowly, this time, Miss.”
“Do not flip me,” Seungkwan warned. “I have not stretched yet.”
You snorted, which Seungcheol assumed was you trying to come off as intimidating while playing off your amusement, but he kept his mouth shut because you happened to have a blade to his throat.
“Pirates,” you muttered darkly, gaze fixing on the elaborate tattoo inked on Seungcheol’s chest, barely concealed by his tattered shirt. “I did not think I would have to deal with pirates around these parts.”
“And what were you trying to do?” he fired back with a scowl. “That shopkeeper sounded like he was gonna have you kicked out of the square, or worse—arrested.”
“Well, I never asked for your help.”
“I just saved you, mi corazón.” Seungcheol sneered. “You could at least thank me.”
Through your hard, steely eyes, you let out a mirthless laugh as your knee dug into his thigh. “If you minded your business instead of drawing unnecessary attention to us, pirate, I could have just slipped past and been on my way. Yet, you still expect me to offer my gratitude?”
To be frank, Seungcheol was already having quite the day, but now he was starting to get a little ticked off. He had just saved your skin, hadn’t he? Was this how he was being repaid? With a knife to his throat instead of some plain gratitude? It wasn’t like he was asking you for anything in the first place, but the least you could do was thank him for his help. After all, he was the very reason you made it out of that situation without causing more of a scene than you already had.
Then, when he thought about it some more, Seungcheol realized how horrible of a misunderstanding this probably was.
He pulled you away from the bustling crowd and dragged you into an alleyway with three other men. There was surely room for misinterpretation there.
“Listen, I only meant to help—”
You rolled your eyes. “Help? All you did was cause a bigger scene. We are lucky neither of us got in trouble.”
“I still helped, did I not?”
“Are you an imbecile?”
“Among other unbecoming titles, I suppose so.”
“You are a pirate, aren’t you? Don’t you know that they will have your head if you are caught?”
“They must first catch me, then.” Seungcheol scoffed. “I’m curious, though, is this your first time thieving? Take it from a pirate: You must be less… conspicuous about these things.”
Furious, you opened your mouth to say something, but your expression quickly faltered, and you closed your mouth before any words could come out. Seungcheol didn’t let your nervous shift in expression go unnoticed, and he followed your gaze to the beam of sunlight spilling into the alleyway. Keeping your weight on the pirate, you peered behind the crate as if you were eavesdropping on someone.
Realistically, Seungcheol could’ve easily overpowered you. He was thinking about it for a good amount of time, but he decided to entertain whatever this was. Perhaps it was his natural curiosity, but he was far more interested in what you were doing in Sevilla than he was determined to get you off of him.
(You being quite beautiful also kept him from tossing you off of him, but that was beside the point.)
“Oi, Miss,” Seokmin whispered, crouching down to your level, “are you hiding from someone?”
Seungkwan and Soonyoung took this as their cue to do the same, exchanging confused glances and avoiding their captain’s pointed glares. Seungcheol was getting rather impatient with the lack of answers he was getting. His day had already gotten off on a horrible start, and now he had to deal with you.
“That is none of your business,” you answered, “and my name is not Miss.”
How aggravating.
“I think it is our business now,” Seungcheol said, firmer this time. “Running from someone? Is that it?”
But you were already shushing him, distracted by something else entirely. Your brows knitted into a frown as you (seemingly unintentionally) pressed the dagger against Seungcheol’s flesh a little harder, daring crimson to bleed through.
“... find her. She has to be around here,” came a deep yet sharp voice right outside the alleyway.
“Was there anyone with her?” another one asked.
“Four men, they said.”
“Split up and look for her. I care not if she is dead or alive, just bring her corpse back in one piece.”
Your shock eclipsed whatever secrecy you were determined to uphold, betraying your attempts to restrain your emotions. Seungcheol noticed a flicker of fear across your eyes even as you glowered. It seemed as though he had unintentionally gotten himself into trouble by association, which was a rather hapless way for one to get into trouble.
When Seungcheol was certain the men had stalked off elsewhere, he asked, “Are they looking for you?”
“Oh, no, it must be some other poor damsel with four men cornering her.”
“Cornering? You have me on the ground with a dagger to my throat. I would say you have the upper hand here, sweetheart.”
“Oh, please, you can easily get out of this,” you replied calmly, raising a brow at him, “but you aren’t.”
“Because I’d rather have a civil conversation first, unless it’s my knife you want against your throat.”
“You are unarmed,” you observed with a pointed stare.
Seungcheol stayed quiet. You were right on the mark with that one.
You continued, “And a pirate trying to be civil? You realize jests must be believable, right?”
“Listen,” Seungcheol started, wrapping his fingers gently around your forearm—the one still clutching the dagger, “We are not going to harm you, but you are in trouble, no? That is why you think we were going to hurt you?”
You scoffed. “If I thought you were going to hurt me, your men would be dead by now.”
His crewmates inched away from you slowly.
“Then you know we are not a threat,” he said. Seungcheol’s throat felt tight and he spoke in a voice as brittle as bones, “We are not looking for a fight or any of the sort. We were just trying to find our way back to England.” He then added in a murmur, “I swear we will not hurt you—swear it on my aunt’s grave.”
At first, he wondered if you would even care about a promise that could come off as seemingly empty to most. However, the way your eyes softened said otherwise.
You removed the dagger from his throat and shifted your body back onto the ground. He could see true sympathy in your eyes, but there was still something so guarded about you that made him feel dubious. Seungcheol got up to crouch behind the crates.
“Your turn,” he said, making a gesture with his hand.
You fixed him with a strange look. “My turn for what?”
“We told you what we are doing in Sevilla, so do enlighten us on your intentions, too. You are clearly not from around here, sneaking around like that.”
You spluttered. “I do not see why I have to tell you anything.”
Seungcheol looked at you carefully, and then he glanced at Soonyoung, Seokmin, and Seungkwan, who already seemed to be devising a plan. Although his men weren’t particularly useful when it came to anything physically demanding, they were excellent when it came to putting on a show.
Soonyoung let out a heavy sigh. “It’s okay, Miss, we knew you wouldn’t be trustin’ of rotten pirates like ourselves.”
“Bless her heart, she doesn’t know that pirates like us can be tricked, too,” Seungkwan chimed in with faux dejection heavy on his tongue. “Can’t tell you how many times I’ve been stabbed in me back.”
(“Seven,” Seokmin answered. “I was one of them.”
“It’s a figure of speech, you fool.”)
“All the times I placed me trust in someone only to be treated like a bilge rat. Me mum always said it’s ‘cause I trust too easily, but”—Soonyoung choked on his words, sniffling rather dramatically—“can you blame me for havin’ too much love in me heart?”
This was a lie; Soonyoung cheered for bloodshed far too often to make such a claim.
“I don’t even have a mum,” Seungkwan wailed.
This was also a lie; Seungkwan most definitely did have a mother that was alive and well.
“Maybe a bunch of mangy dogs like us aren’t meant to have friends,” Seokmin added miserably. “Maybe we really are on our own.”
This, however, had some truth to it.
“You’re not alone, Seokmin.” Seungkwan gave him an earnest look as he reached over to squeeze his shoulder. “We have each other, mate.”
The silence that followed afterward was deafening. You stared at the three with a blank look on your face. Seungcheol held back a groan and closed his eyes out of frustration.
After a pause, you spoke, “Touching. Well, if you will excuse me, I shall be on my way now.”
Seungcheol started, “Wait—”
Just as you got to your feet, a gleaming flash of gold fell from your robes. You didn’t seem to notice at first, but right as your eyes widened with your alarm, Seungcheol had already gotten to the object first. It was an amulet hanging by an iron chain, and when he examined it closely, there was an engraving of an eagle on one side and a triangular shape on the other side.
He knew exactly what this was.
The mark of an assassin.
Seungcheol heard stories of assassins, of course—bits and pieces here and there—nothing substantial that he could place his finger on. For the most part, they were shrouded in secrecy, never to reveal their identity to anyone outside of their brotherhood.
Whatever business they had with pirates wasn’t something he had any clue of. Seungcheol recalled that Black Bart, a Welsh pirate who crossed swords with Seungcheol before, had worked in the shadows with an assassin before. No one knew of the finer details, but it was said that their partnership brought him more power and influence over the Caribbean.
He wasn’t too sure of the whole story, but his aunt had been in close relations with an assassin. She never disclosed much, as she wanted to keep Seungcheol far from danger during his youth, but he distinctly remembered when she returned home one day with an amulet that had the same engraving. At first, she refused to tell him what the symbol was, but after an eleven-year-old Seungcheol nearly snuck it out of the house to show his friends, his aunt sat him down and explained how dangerous it was to carry an assassin’s insignia.
But an assassin in these parts? What could you possibly be looking for here? Had he just ended up becoming your next target? There were so many questions he wanted to ask, but you snatched your amulet out of his hands before he could clear his head.
“Those guards are looking for you because of that, right?” Seungcheol asked, pointing at the amulet. He cut to the chase so that you wouldn’t take off running. His voice was hardly louder than a mumble when he continued, “You are an assassin, are you not?”
You flinched at his words.
Seungkwan rubbed the back of his neck. “Not a very good one, is she?”
“No.” Soonyoung shook his head in agreement. “Revealing it sort of defeats the whole purpose, doesn’t it?”
Surely, you recognized a losing battle when you saw one; Seungcheol already figured out who you were, and if you made a run for it, all he had to do was walk up to a guard and tell them who you were. He had a perfect description for you already, all thanks to the past five minutes of staring up at your face.
“Give it back or I will shove this blade up your arse,” you warned.
“No, I do not suppose I will,” Seungcheol replied with a mocking smile, dangling the amulet in front of your face for a moment before he put it around his own neck. “You will get it back after we get our ship.”
“Do you not have half the mind to know I can easily take it from you?”
“Not unless you kill me.”
You barked out a laugh, bewildered. “You think I am above murder? Me?”
“No, but I know you have the King’s men on your trail. You must be as dull as a rusty cutlass if you think you can take my men and I down without drawing attention.”
There was a moment of disorientation where you kept looking from Seungcheol, to the amulet, and back at the captain again. He almost felt bad because it seemed like you hadn’t ever expected to be caught up in such a situation, but perhaps this could be advantageous for the both of you.
He also knew that if you really wanted to, you could just kill them and move on, but that wasn’t the likely outcome. Someone was clearly trying to find you, and four dead bodies in the middle of the town square would surely be a dead giveaway.
“What do you want from me?” you asked sharply, your words venomous with shame and rage. “Gold? Treasure? I do not have any of that sort.”
“We need a ship,” he said. “But not just any boat—something of… royal caliber. That is the only vessel I suspect would sail as smooth as The Golden Corsair.”
You raised a brow. “Is that your ship? What happened to it?”
“It sank.”
“Oh. What a pity.”
“You could at least pretend to be sympathetic.”
“I have never been very fond of pirates.” You grimaced. “Anyway, you would have to be a complete buffoon to steal a Royal Navy ship.”
“Then it’s a good thing we have three of those.”
Seokmin tapped the captain’s shoulder, clearing his throat. “There are four of us, Cap’n.”
Seungcheol gave him a knowing smile. “I am quite aware.”
You fixed him with a curious look. “What’s in it for me?”
“Our word that we will keep your secret,” he vowed, “and we will help you with whatever it is you are here for. Having someone around who speaks the native language could prove to be quite useful, you know?”
You were eyeing the pirate carefully, as if you were deciding whether he would be useful to you or not.
“And one more thing”—Seungcheol took a step closer, so close that your bodies were nearly touching, and he looked down at you with a dangerous flicker in his eyes—“if you even think of hurting one of us, I won’t hesitate to finish you off myself, mi corazón.”
You seemed defeated for a very, very long time. Seungcheol and his crew sat with you for what felt like eternity until you finally dragged yourself up off your feet. After a resigned sigh, you finally came to terms with the fact that you couldn’t do much now regarding your identity being compromised.
Truthfully, Seungcheol was very hungry and tired. He wanted nothing but a nice, hot meal before he was lulled into a peaceful sleep. His brain was too scrambled to pinpoint how long it had been since he had food in his body last, and there was no point in trying to guess when his memory following the shipwreck was still hazy.
“I have a friend in Sevilla that can shelter us for a few nights,” Seungcheol had told you and his crew. “We are not going to get very far without food and water.”
He noticed that you started to crumble in the way the corners of your mouth twitched—not that Seungcheol was staring at your lips. The lure of a roof over your head and food on your plate seemed to sell you.
“I would like my own room,” you insisted.
“No objections here. I do not think any of us are keen on sharing a room with an assassin.”
“Will you be quiet?” you whispered harshly. “I will tell you this now: I have no intention of hurting innocents, but if you keep running your mouth, I am afraid I will have no other choice but to slit your throats before you can even scream for help.”
Seungcheol wasn’t particularly interested in responding to your threat, nor did he feel inclined to point out that he was sure at least one of them would react fast enough.
“Ray of sunshine, this one is,” Seungkwan retorted as he eyed you cautiously.
Most of the journey was spent in silence. You hardly seemed to want to engage in conversation, but Seungcheol was perfectly content with not spoiling the peacefulness of their trek with another slew of threats. Hunger and exhaustion were slowly becoming unbearable with each drag of his feet. He hoped that nothing had changed since his last visit to The Sleeping Bull, and that his old friend, Joshua Hong, was still the innkeeper.
Nightfall encroached upon them by the time they reached the building with dim candle light glowing through the windows. The smokey smell filled Seungcheol’s nostrils with a sort of familiarity and comfort that set his nerves at ease.
When he opened the door, there were a few men hunched over the nearby tables. They were all laughing at someone’s joke and toasting to several, trivial things that hardly needed a toast. Seungcheol spotted Joshua standing at the bar, wiping the rim of a glass with a rag.
Upon noticing the five people walking through the door, Joshua squinted from across the room and Seungcheol saw deep lines in his forehead before he set the cup down. Joshua had to walk closer to make out the group in the dim lighting, and his eyes landed on you briefly before he turned back to Seungcheol, face slowly stretching into a wide grin.
“Captain Choi Seungcheol? Is it really you?” Joshua narrowed his eyes to make out the scruffy, broad-shouldered pirate before straightening up. “It has been long indeed! Almost couldn’t tell it was you without the rest of your rowdy men,” he said brightly. “Take a seat at the bar, will you? Let me pour you all a drink.”
Seungcheol wasn’t sure if Joshua could pick up on the way his smile faltered at the mention of his crew, but he decided to skirt around the topic for now. It was no good getting emotional at a time like this.
“Bloody hell, it is good to see a familiar face. Do you have any rum, Joshua?”
“I’ve not had a drop of rum in ages.” Seungkwan groaned as he dropped his weight onto one of the creaky stools. “Not since our stash went dry on The Golden Corsair.”
“The poor bastard has not yet realized that we’d been hidin’ the rum from him,” Seokmin muttered to you, earning what Seungcheol decided would’ve almost been a smile if you weren’t so guarded.
Seungcheol made sure that you were in his line of vision as he took a seat a few stools away from you. Your hood was covering most of your face, but once your back was to the rest of the pub, you pushed it back far enough for Seungcheol to notice how guarded you looked. Your eyes flitted around the tavern suspicious—subtle enough for no one else to take notice. No one but Seungcheol, apparently, but he had good reason to keep an eye on you.
“On the house,” the owner offered, setting down pewter cups of rum in front of all of them before wagging a finger at Soonyoung, Seungkwan, and Seokmin. “You three drunkards better not dance on the tables again. Let me remind you that this is an inn.”
Soonyoung ran a bitten-down, yellowed fingernail against the grain. “But these beautiful mahogany tables wouldn’t be here if we hadn’t smashed the old ones in.”
“Consider it a favor,” Seokmin chimed in.
“An’ we stopped handin’ those out after ol’ Whitehead near tricked us into walkin’ the plank,” Soonyoung went on, “but you needn’t thank us, mate—no, no.”
“Aye. Did it out of the goodness of our hearts.” Seokmin flashed a crooked grin before looking over at Seungkwan, who had rum dripping from his chin. “Isn’t that right, Kwan?”
“I remember it clear as a foggy night.” Seungkwan hiccuped once, twice—(“That wouldn’t be clear at all,” you muttered under your breath)—and then pounded his fist against the wood before he continued in a drunken stupor, “Did it all for the betterment of this fine establishment!”
Joshua, who suddenly looked like he had gone through several sleepless nights compared to his sunny demeanor minutes earlier, promptly ignored the three as they went back and forth with their running gag.
Seungcheol’s interest wandered to the clusters of people at the tables behind them; there was a family who looked as though they had traveled a long way, one group who were progressively getting more and more drunk by the minute; and a man sitting by himself in the corner.
“It seems business has been good,” Seungcheol pointed out.
“Sort of,” Joshua grumbled. “Bunch of no-good people have been coming in and bringing trouble with them… dragging people out and starting a scene.”
“What sort of people?”
“I hear they call themselves the Templar Order.”
“Dragging people out? For what?” you spoke up, much to Seungcheol’s surprise, and you sat up a little straighter now that Joshua had your full attention.
The innkeeper sighed. “No one can say for certain, but I believe they are in search of something. What that may be, I cannot tell, but they’ve just been turning out folks’ pockets and leaving after threatening them. A most peculiar group of thugs, no?” He leaned closer and lowered his voice to say, “I suspect that Yoon Jeonghan over there has something to do with them. All he seems to do is sit there all day long, and he hardly takes notice whenever ruckus breaks out in here.”
Seungcheol turned his head to observe the dark-haired man in the corner. Jeonghan had his head down so that no one could clearly make out his face, but Seungcheol caught a glimpse of his eyes before he turned his attention back to Joshua.
“But what’re you doing here, Seungcheol? Where are the rest of your men?” Joshua asked, leaning onto his forearms. “I thought I wouldn’t see you lot in Sevilla anytime soon.”
“There was a storm,” Seungcheol started gruffly. “None of my men were prepared for how cruel the tides would be.”
“A storm?” Joshua’s eyes were wide with alarm. “So your crew…”
“All dead—except for these three here. Only God knows why the Devil’s Domain spared us.”
(Soonyoung snorted. “She probably felt sick to her stomach after swallowing Whitehead.”
“Like eating rotten meat,” Seungkwan blubbered. The three of them seemed awfully remorseful about Whitehead’s death, but at the same time, they couldn’t stop joking about it.)
The corners of Joshua’s lips turned down. He was silent for a long time, like he was mentally going over each face and name he could remember from Seungcheol’s crew. The captain understood him very well for that was what he spent the first few hours of being conscious doing. He ran through every name in his head—every face, every memory, every laugh shared. Even his three crew members went silent at the mention of the storm, and the Seungcheol took the silence as an opportunity to tip his head back and down his alcohol so that the burn down his throat would distract him from his stinging eyes.
“I truly am sorry, Seungcheol,” Joshua finally said. He took a moment to take in the captain’s haggard appearance, from his hollowed cheekbones to his unkempt, knotted hair. “Let me get you something to eat. You all must be starving.” He turned to shout out orders to the head cook, who immediately got to chopping up vegetables for a stew. “You should wash up here, too, when you can.”
“We are grateful—really.”
“What do you suppose you will do now?”
“I need to find a ship so that I can sail back, but… for now”—he held up his cup and tipped it as a toast before chugging the contents down—“we drink and forget.”
“You are welcome to stay here for as long as you need until you can get yourself back up on your feet again.”
“Thank you, Joshua.”
“You needn’t thank me. You’re just lucky you came here now; this place will be busy soon because of Semana Santa. Even the royal family is here.”
“Semana Santa?”
“Holy Week,” you answered in Joshua’s stead, although you wouldn’t meet Seungcheol’s eyes when you spoke. “It is a Catholic event that lasts the whole week. Nearly all of Sevilla set aside their commitments to celebrate.”
“Is that the reason why you have come here, Miss?” Joshua asked in his buttery voice.
Your gaze flicked to the innkeeper’s before you responded, “Yes.”
Seungcheol had a feeling that your answer wasn't far off from the truth.
Your request for your own room was granted, much to Seungcheol’s surprise. He hadn’t guaranteed you anything, but it was a stroke of luck that Joshua happened to have two open rooms at his inn.
The room that the four pirates had to cram into was clearly only meant for one or two people to sleep in. This wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, though; Seungcheol had experienced far worse sleeping conditions in the past, and this was still far more comfortable than his private quarters on The Golden Corsair. Although the extra set of blankets that Joshua provided were paper-thin and the pillows felt like they had been stuffed with straw, Seungcheol was grateful for additional comfort.
After his crew members nearly got on their knees and begged him to take the bed, Seungcheol dismissed the idea with a definitive shake of his head and settled into one of the two makeshift ones. Soonyoung and Seungkwan ended up on the bed instead, stiffly shoulder-to-shoulder until Soonyoung slung his leg around Seungkwan’s while Seungkwan reluctantly wrapped an arm around the pirate.
As soon as his head hit the pillow, Seungcheol’s body responded immediately. It was as if he had forgotten what he had been through in the last few days until this moment. Sleep caught up to him almost immediately, and he drifted into a heavy slumber.
Just before the first rays of sunlight crept into the window, Seungcheol was awoken by three loud bangs at the door. Soft groans echoed through the room as the others roused from their deep sleep.
Seungcheol could hardly tell whether he was standing on his own two feet or not when he found himself at the door, fumbling with the doorknob. He couldn’t imagine Joshua waking them up so abruptly, especially at this time, so the pirate couldn’t help the exhausted sigh that escaped his lips when he opened the door to none other than you.
“A fine morning to you, too,” you retorted, looking Seungcheol up and down for a brief second.
“Morning?” Soonyoung groused. “Us pirates require some daytime visibility before we consider it morning here.”
Seungkwan let out a tired grumble while still rubbing the sleep from his face. “Assassin, would it be so very difficult to let us sleep until the sun comes out?”
Seungcheol held the door open wider for you when he noticed the hard look in your eyes, signaling that you wouldn’t budge. He supposed whatever you had to say was only to be uttered behind closed doors.
You faced the four pirates and started, “The situation has escalated, so I must say this now. You told me that you would help me, so let me lay out our terms: We finish this mission, I help you find a ship to sail back to England, you give me back my amulet, and we go our separate ways. None of you will open your mouths about this arrangement—ever.”
Seokmin raised his hand.
You raised a brow. “Yes?”
“How would you know whether we choose to open our mouths or not?” The question was presumably a joke, judging by the way he turned back to look at Soonyoung and snicker, but there was zero amusement in your eyes.
“Well, if there is any suspicion of a threat, it will be swiftly eliminated. You will most likely find a blade shoved down your throat before you even think about opening your mouth. Understood?”
The color drained from Soonyoung, Seokmin, and Seungkwan’s faces as they stupidly nodded along,
“I said we would help you,” Seungcheol said, folding his arms across his chest, “but you need to tell us what the bloody hell is going on first.”
“Something bad is about to happen here,” you said. “The Templars are planning a city-wide attack on the last day of Semana Santa. Domingo de Resurrección—the Resurrection of Christ. If we cannot stop them, everyone—and I mean everyone—is going to be forced into submission.”
“Templars?” Seungcheol narrowed his eyes. “You mean the people Joshua spoke of last night? The Templar Order? Who exactly are they?”
“The Templars are a group that believe true peace can only be achieved through their control. They intend on eliminating the freedom of the people by imposing their own rules. They want to control humanity as a whole.”
Soonyoung, whose previously mortified expression had hardened into a more serious one, now had creases lining his forehead. “How could they possibly do that?”
“They found our Codex pages,” you answered grimly, “and they are using them to find the Pieces of Eden—ancient devices from the First Civilization, Isu, that hold an immeasurable amount of power. They can be used to influence human behavior, attain great power, control the mind… and we think they are here because they found the Apple of Eden.”
Seungcheol frowned. “The Apple of Eden?”
“That artifact is what they plan to use to control the minds of the masses that will be here for Semana Santa soon. The Apple grants the wielder the ability to control human minds and ensure absolute obedience. If they get their hands on it before we do, then our fate is no longer in our own hands.”
“That… that is simply ridiculous. They cannot—”
“Believe it or not, they most certainly can. These Pieces of Eden contain unmeasurable power far beyond mere human capabilities.”
“And these Code pages…”
“Codex pages,” you corrected. “They are ancient texts that contain Leonardo da Vinci’s greatest secrets, including the Pieces of Eden—what they do, how to use them, and even where they are. It was a grave mistake that they ever got in the wrong hands.”
“Da Vinci? The artist?”
Seokmin snapped his fingers. “The Last Supper.”
“Well, well, it seems we have a true patron of the arts among us,” Soonyoung mocked, nodding along as if he was greatly impressed.
“Artist, engineer, inventor—whichever you may call him,” you listed off. “I cannot reveal much, but he, too, refused to allow the Templar Order’s tyranny to persist.”
The weight of the conversation seemed to settle on all of their shoulders. It was difficult for Seungcheol to wrap his head around all your talk about classified manuscripts and ancient artifacts. Although the four of them were visibly more awake, there was a feeling of dread pitted in their stomachs. If what you were saying was the truth, then Seungcheol wouldn’t even have a home to sail back to if the Templar Order got what they wanted.
“So, where is this artifact?” the captain asked. “We must find it before they do, no?”
“That would be the… crux of the matter,” you muttered. “We need the Codex pages in order to do so, but I might have a lead: Yesterday, I was eavesdropping on the shopkeeper’s conversation with someone whom I suspected to be a Templar Knight. They were talking about where King Philip would be tonight.” You paused to shoot Seungcheol a cold glare. “Might I add, the shopkeeper you pulled me away from.”
“Oh.” Seungcheol blinked, feeling rather sheepish now. “Apologies.”
“So you weren’t stealing?” Soonyoung’s eyes were wide, looking between you and Seungcheol several times before flashing a sheepish grin. “Forgive our captain, will you? Thieving’s all we know.”
“I was trying to listen in, but he got suspicious and started a commotion,” you continued, huffing at the mere idea of excusing Seungcheol’s actions. “It is of no matter now. I still managed to find out where King Philip is going to be, and either the Apple of Eden is where he is, or…”
Seungkwan looked wary. “Or?”
“Or they already have it and want to get close to His Majesty to use the artifact on him.”
Seungcheol let out a dry laugh. “So, assassin, you expect us to believe that a fruit is going to be responsible for controlling our minds?” With those words, his crewmates’ nervousness dissolved, and they let out a few chuckles.
“It is not an actual apple, you blithering idiot,” you spat. “It’s… spherical, sort of like a dense metal ball, and it contains unmeasurable power. Do you know of Adam and Eve? The first humans of Genesis? They once used the Apple to wage war between the Isu and humans, so if it gets in the wrong hands, we are all doomed.”
The captain’s brows furrowed. He wasn’t sure how much of this he could fully believe, but you didn’t seem like you were lying. Either way, all he had to do was follow along until he had a ship to sail off on, so Seungcheol didn’t mind entertaining whatever this was for now.
“Do you have a plan, then? Do you know of King Philip’s whereabouts?” he asked you.
“There will be an opera performance tonight at the Alcázar. His Majesty will be in attendance, of course.”
“The Alcázar? And how exactly do you intend to get into the royal palace?”
There was a dangerous sparkle in your eyes. “You said thieving’s all you know?”
The pirates were, unfortunately, consistent with their image; Soonyoung, Seokmin, and Seungkwan were excellent at thieving, save for the times they started bickering in the middle of a heist.
The extravagant fashion of the nobility in Sevilla were often handcrafted by the most skilled modistas in the city. Rich silks sewed into elegant gowns and fitted justaucorps lined their shops, and the seamstresses were busying themselves with a plethora of requests from high society. As it was Holy Sunday, business was bustling since Sevilla had processions going on all day long. The upper class were attending gatherings after Mass and cultural events were held throughout the city, so the modistas were kept busy in their shops.
Of course, neither you nor the pirates had enough pesos or doblóns to afford such luxuries, so Soonyoung, Seokmin, and Seungkwan were tasked to rob three of the busiest workshops in the affluent districts. Seungcheol’s trust in them pulling this off was shaky, but you spent thirty minutes explaining exactly what they needed to bring back.
It was a surprisingly successful loot; Seokmin brought back a midnight blue silk gown that was embroidered with glittering beads of pearl while Soonyoung returned with a velvet long coat of a similar shade. Of course, blue was decided beforehand to stay discreet, but no one had expected the colors to be so alike. Unfortunately, Seungkwan was chased out, but he managed to snag a sapphire necklace set in silver.
“Cap’n,” Soonyoung marvelled, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye as he watched Seungcheol slide the black gloves over his hands, “you look like a sight for sore eyes.”
“Am I not always?”
“Since you are unarmed, I will answer that,” he said. “When we were out at sea for months on end, some days I mistook you to be a drowned rat.”
“Ah, you need not worry. That does not bother me, friend.” Seungcheol smiled good-naturedly. “I mistake you for that every day.”
The plan was not quite as simple as you made it out to be; you and Seungcheol were to dress the part of the nobility—enough to be let into the King’s palace without suspicion—and sneak into his study when the opportunity arose. Seungcheol wasn’t sure what exactly they were looking for, but he was confident that he could pull off the polished look of a nobleman.
The men of the upper classes often wore powdered wigs to show off their wealth, but Seungcheol had to settle for grooming the unkempt, tangled mess of locks on his head. He soaked his hair in the wash basin until he could run his fingers through it without them getting stuck, and then after borrowing some pomade off Joshua, Seungcheol styled his hair back into a ponytail. A few curls fell onto his forehead, but as much as he tried to slick them back, they were too difficult to tame.
He managed to shave his overgrown facial hair down to a stubble, although now the pirate couldn’t do much to hide his scar that ran down the upper half of his face. Still, he was undeniably more put together now. Hopefully enough to disguise himself amongst the elites of Sevilla.
The sun was set to dip below the horizon when Seungcheol knocked at your door. He felt strange in his new getup, but when you opened the door to reveal a remarkably polished appearance—charcoal-lined eyes and rouge-tinted lips accompanied by your flowing dress—the captain suddenly felt like a mere sailor admiring a mermaid of the deep.
The look he gave you surely wasn't affection but perhaps something a few degrees beyond basic interest.
“Ah,” you remarked, giving him a once-over and humming in approval. “You clean up well, Captain.”
His mouth felt too dry to respond, so Seungcheol simply gave you a polite nod and entered your room when you held the door open wider. You were a few inches taller because of your heels now, but the volume of your skirt was what really made you stand out. It was impossible to imagine how you looked before after he’d seen you like this.
“I’m nearly ready,” you said, picking up the sapphire necklace and holding it to your neck. “Could I trouble you for some help? This is a bit difficult…”
After a pause, you cleared your throat and Seungcheol realized that he had been staring at the floorboards for far too long.
He sucked in a breath. “Right. Could you move your hair?”
After taking the delicate jewels from your hands, Seungcheol waited for you to move your hair off the back of your neck so that he could fasten the chain around your neck. He moved so that he was standing right behind you, right where he could see the curve of your cheek and the way your chest rose and fell. Then, he moved the necklace around you and pulled the ends back to clasp them together. His fingers brushed against your skin as he did so, and although he felt like he was holding his breath the entire time, the task was successfully accomplished without Seungcheol staring at your nape for too long.
“There,” he said in a quieter, deeper voice.
You fixed the chain to position the gem at the center of your chest. “Shall we get going, then?” You walked toward the window and gestured for him to head out first.
“Surely, we are not to take the window as our exit?” He almost laughed at how inelegant it felt compared to how they were dressed.
“It would be best that we’re not seen. I would rather not be questioned on how we got our hands on these clothes.”
“Very well.” Seungcheol pushed open the pane and gestured for you to go on ahead. “Ladies first.”
The Puerta de la Montería was the grand entrance to the Alcazár. The high-rise stone walls separated the ornate palace from the bustling city, and the Gate of the Hunt was flanked by two lion statues that appeared to guard the entryway.
Seungcheol used to study architecture in his spare time. His aunt was a patron of the arts, and she gifted him several books on the art of construction and composition—guides to Baroque and Palladin design that Seungcheol spent nights flipping through and immersing himself in. He loved architecture for the same reason he loved art; they were both so intertwined in the way they echoed cultural shifts across time.
The course of history—the very passage of time—was something he could witness from the mast of his ship, even; it was in art, the world around him, and the everchanging architecture from the lands he traversed.
As they approached the entrance, he asked you, “Are we again pretending to be a married couple?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“As we did in the square,” Seungcheol pointed out as a smirk tugged at his lips. “Do you recall, mi corazón?”
The withering look on your face nearly made him snort.
“Unfortunately, I do remember,” you replied, “and, yes, it appears we have no other choice.”
You slowed your pace to follow Seungcheol’s lead, but he grabbed your wrist before you could fall behind. “No,” he insisted, “we walk together.” He let go of you once you were by his side again.
“Fine.”
“And if we are to keep up this… charade,” he started again, “I must at least get your name.”
“Ah, I never gave you my name, have I?”
Seungcheol had only thought of referring to you as “the assassin” until now, and the very idea of you having an actual name had completely slipped his mind.
“You have not,” he answered. “Are you allowed to disclose that?”
“Of all the matters I have had to disclose thus far, my name is the least worrisome. It is of no significance nor am I very fond of it, but you may call me Y/N.”
“Y/N,” he echoed. “A lovely name—very fierce.”
“Look at that tower over there. Is it not a fine sight?”
“Changing the subject, are you?”
You sneered. “Take the hint, will you?”
“Well, if a shift in conversation is what you desire, I could go on at length about the architecture here.”
He was only half-serious, assuming you would find the topic to be completely dull, but your eyes twinkled with interest. “Do go on.”
“This palace was once a fort called the Dar al-Imara,” he explained as you two passed through the stone archway, following behind the couple that were well ahead of them. After receiving a nod of acknowledgement from the guards, they were permitted to pass through the gatehouse. Seungcheol didn’t realize he had been so on edge until he felt like he could raise his head high again. “It was home to the Abbadid king at the time.”
You quirked a brow at him. “How do you know that?”
“I know more than you think—I travel, I read, I study. There is only so much the world can hide from someone.”
A pause, then you said, “I see now. To be frank, I thought you spoke in a way that was more akin to a professor than a pirate. The innkeeper spoke of you as a feared captain whose name struck terror across the seven seas, but you are quite unlike the pirates I have encountered. It is not for the better nor for the worse; you are simply… not the kind of man I expected you to be.”
Seungcheol couldn’t respond for a minute, and perhaps it was because you hit the nail on the head. He was in academia long before he had turned to a life of piracy, so he had never been able to quite let go of the way he articulated himself for most of his life. It had always gone unnoticed, though, so he hadn’t ever expected it to be brought up. Not from someone whose name he didn’t even know.
“Never mind that, though,” you added, seeing how reluctant the captain was to answer.
The two of you were silent as you watched through the courtyard, quietly admiring the cypress trees that hung over the crystal pools. Silent chatter and the running water from the fountains filled his ears. Among the noblemen around him, Seungcheol felt like he was just playing dress-up even as he adorned himself in the finest silks and satins.
“I do have a question,” you continued once more. “How did you recognize the mark on my amulet?”
You must have been referring to the assassin’s insignia that Seungcheol still wore around his neck, tucked inside his garments. It didn’t feel right to leave it at the tavern, but it was all the more dangerous if he was caught with it here.
As for his answer, Seungcheol saw no reason to lie.
“My aunt was once a pirate,” he said. “After she left that life behind to raise me, she only kept a few treasures to herself. That amulet with that particular engraving was one of them.”
A horrified look crossed your face. “Then she…” You didn’t finish, but the implication in your tone was clear enough to him.
“There was no blood spilled for it to land in her possession, if that was where your assumptions were going,” Seungcheol replied firmly. He remembered it as clear as day—the memory of his aunt kissing the amulet, believing her nephew to be asleep at the time. “It belonged to someone dear to her, otherwise she wouldn’t have safeguarded it.”
His response seemed to absolve your misunderstanding, but then your interest was captured by something else entirely. “Your aunt was a pirate?”
“She was,” Seungcheol said with a surge of pride filling his chest. “She pretended to be a man most of her life because of it, but they eventually accepted her as she was.”
“What happened to her?”
“The Royal Navy told her she would be pardoned for her crimes against the Crown so long as she joined their forces to take down Wukou ships that were targeting their merchants. After they got what they wanted, they got rid of her. Never saw her or her corpse again. Simple as that.”
“I’m sorry.”
Seungcheol met your gaze. “Are you now?”
“I am,” you insisted, and he swore he could see a hint of sympathy in your eyes. “She must have been a brave and honorable woman.”
“Never thought I would hear someone use the word honorable by a pirate’s name.” From an assassin, no less. Before you opened your mouth to protest, he continued, “I jest. Thank you for saying that—really. It means a lot to hear someone speak well of her.”
It must have been ages since Seungcheol spoke about his aunt openly. He loved her deeply, but it was a sore subject that he treaded carefully on. The last time he had been this open about his feelings, it was after having downed a bottle of whiskey on a particularly dreary night on The Golden Corsair. He had locked himself in the map room, too, so that no one would see him in such a fragile state.
“Do you have a plan on sneaking into the study, by chance?” he asked. “Or are we entering Hell?”
“I do not believe that is appropriate to say on Holy Monday.”
“I do not believe sneaking into the royal palace is very appropriate, either.”
You gave him a pointed look. “We did not sneak; they saw fit to let us enter. Now, hold your arm out for me when we go up these steps here.”
Seungcheol did as you told him to, and you placed your right arm over his left to make your way up the staircase to the Salón de Embajadores, or Hall of Ambassadors. He couldn’t help but notice how measured and graceful your pace was, while Seungcheol felt as though he was scrambling to match your stride as elegantly as possible. Yet, he couldn’t match how effortlessly you managed to carry yourself.
The ceiling of intricate Mudéjar woodwork and geometric patterns caught Seungcheol’s eye first. The Hall of Ambassadors was certainly fit for a royal audience with how the grand stage was illuminated in the vast room. The rest of the venue was packed with velvet cushions for the guests’ seating, and there was a throne for King Philip V at the back wall. His seat was on an elevated platform—perfect for you and Seungcheol to keep close watch on him throughout the show.
The king hadn’t yet arrived by the time the room was starting to fill up. Seungcheol wondered if he would make his grand entrance later on, and just as he lost himself in thoughts of how uncomfortable his clothes were, the audience rose to bow in the presence of the monarch.
“It’s His Majesty,” Seungcheol mumbled, nudging your side with his elbow. His eagerness got the better of him and he wound up elbowing you far too aggressively.
“Ow.” You shot him a venomous look and muttered under your breath, “Perhaps you have not been around many, but it is improper to jab a lady!”
“A lady? But are you not an—”
For lack of better wording, Seungcheol decided to hold his tongue. He figured it was the wiser choice to not reveal your rather scandalous occupation in a public setting—the royal palace, no less.
A reverent silence filled the room as His Majesty passed by the nobles and elites to make his way to the empty throne. Next to him, you stiffened. A chill went down the pirate’s spine when he made brief eye contact with the King, realizing he had forgotten to lower his eyes out of respect.
His eyes… something wasn’t quite right about them.
With King Philip and his men now at the back of the room, Seungcheol saw this as the perfect opportunity to slip away. “Now is our chance,” he told you as he sat down in synchronization with the rest of the guests.
“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.”
“We were not spectators for very long, were we?” Seungcheol returned miserably before he stood up, straightening his back and extending his arm out to you. He had been the one dreading sitting through an opera performance, but he was starting to prefer the vocalist over the palace guards hunting them down.
Seungcheol owed their hasty escape to how dark the room was. The few attendees in their row were disgruntled by the movement, but they managed to leave through the exit as quietly as they entered. The palace was eerily vacant with everyone in the Hall of Ambassadors, and you were making a great effort to keep your wooden heels from clacking against the marble.
“Follow me,” you said under your breath before dragging Seungcheol by the wrist. He allowed you to tug him down the hallway and to the stairwell.
“What are you looking for?”
“His study.”
“Right now?”
Seungcheol stood firmly in place so that you would stop pulling him along. However, you simply let go of him and headed up the steps on your own. He sighed deeply and followed after you.
“Pray tell, what were you expecting? Did you think I was taking you for dinner and a show?”
Seungcheol, feeling his face grow warm, opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. “Hold on for a moment. We cannot possibly just barge in. This is risky.”
You stopped in your tracks and turned on Seungcheol in the middle of the stairwell. “I thought I made it clear that this would be dangerous. If you value your life so much, then leave me behind and run, but I will not be stopping here.”
With that, you bunched up your skirt in fistfuls and kept walking upstairs. For the first time in Seungcheol’s life, he felt like had so much more to lose than his life. He had already lost countless men, his ship, and his pride. All he had left were three members of his crew and his own resolution to make it back to England, to bring some closure and peace to the families of the deceased pirates. He thought that since he was punished to keep living, he would at least do one last thing for his men and make it back alive.
But Captain Choi Seungcheol would never dare leave an ally behind to save his own skin.
Pirates had long been generalized as ruffians who only sought to pillage and plunder. That may have rang true for some, but for pirates like Seungcheol, who lived off of the thrill of adventure, words like yours only left him with adrenaline pumping through his body. Perhaps he was itching to feel that exhilaration once again.
Nimble on his feet, he jogged to catch up with you, crossing two steps at a time. You hardly made any gesture to acknowledge that he decided against turning his back on you, but Seungcheol swore he caught a small smile on your face before you turned to scan the perimeter.
The second floor seemed deserted, but there were so many doors that Seungcheol already felt discouraged at the prospect of finding the King’s study. He leaned against the frame of the arched window behind him, peering over his shoulder to catch sight of the palace guards prowling at the entrance. He supposed they had been alerted to be on the lookout.
As much as Seungcheol tried to push it down to think about later, he couldn’t stop himself from wondering just how the King and his men even caught onto them. He looked up at the paintings that lined the walls, staring right at the portrait of King Philip V. The pirate felt like he was being watched the same way the Bourbon King’s dark eyes bore into his.
That was a concern for later, though; the predicament at hand was enough to make the pirate’s head hurt. There were so many doors that Seungcheol couldn’t see how they could possibly find—
“There it is,” he heard you say, much to his bewilderment.
“How were you able to find it so quickly?”
“Come, pirate.”
“Captain,” Seungcheol corrected in a grumble as he followed you inside the study. He closed the door behind him as quietly as possible, fingertips twisting the doorknob as if it were glass. “I would much rather you call me by my name. There is something that irks me about your formalities, for some reason.”
“Very well, pirate.”
Seungcheol waited until your back was turned to roll his eyes at your stubborn attitude. He decided to change the topic, asking, “Say, what do those—er… code pages look like?”
“Codex pages, and I would not know. I’ve only heard of them.”
“What?” He looked askance at you. “How in God’s name are we supposed to find them, then?”
You were currently sifting through the papers that you pulled out from the folding front of the King’s bureau. Seungcheol could feel all hope for the success of this mission slowly dwindle as you simply shrugged in response.
“So,” he started when it got awfully quiet, “you mentioned you watched Hamlet? I had no idea there were theatre companies performing Shakespeare here. Lope de Vega has been quite a sensation in Sevilla, or so I’ve heard.”
“You sure have a great deal to say.” Your tone was flat, and although you turned your head to continue skimming through the papers, you answered, “I’ve seen it in Paris. My mother took me when I was younger.”
“Your mother must—”
“She is of no concern to you.”
A subject most delicate, was what Seungcheol gathered.
Then, you leapt to your feet with an excited gasp. “Seungcheol, look!”
He knew very well that you would intentionally avoid using his name if he pointed it out, so Seungcheol stayed quiet. However, if he was more honest with himself, he would’ve admitted that his heart jumped because of how you called his name rather than whatever your discovery was.
“Is it the Codex pages?”
“No, but these are official plans for Domingo de Resurrección. This is written proof that they are using that sacred day for something wicked,” you told him in an urgent breath, crossing over to his side to hand him the papers. Seungcheol ran his finger down the page, frowning as he skimmed over various decrees about regulating personal freedoms. “This is what they will announce and everyone will fall under their control. As long as they have the Apple, the people are doomed.”
“See this?” you went on, mortified. “The Templar Order intends to strip everyone of their freedom. They want to create a world controlled only by them.”
Seungcheol could hardly believe his eyes. The fine print read that refusing to comply with the new set of laws was punishable by law; that personal freedoms to choose one's occupation and future spouse would be restricted; that education would be manipulated to ban readings that promoted individualism and free thought! He had always known not to trust those in power, but this was corruption rooted deeper than Seungcheol thought was possible. It went far past the soil and embedded itself in the bedrock.
It infuriated him beyond belief. Made his gut roil with hot acid.
His aunt died because she was a pirate—died at the filthy hands of royal scum—and Seungcheol was never able to avenge her. It was almost laughable that he thought he could ever do anything about it, and now they would be able to cover up their dirty work entirely.
And they were planning to censor the very knowledge from books? That was right—a human who couldn’t speak freely would end up fighting desperately to express themselves somehow. The Templar needed to control the very thoughts and beliefs of the people, too. Limiting the opinions and perspectives from certain readings would certainly inflict a controlled worldview upon everyone.
The entire scheme was preposterous. It went against everything Seungcheol stood for, and he just felt wronged to lose so much in so little time. How could he possibly stand by and allow this to happen?
“You… you are certain of this, correct?” he asked, almost in a single breath. “Can the Apple truly manipulate minds like that?”
“It has been done before—many times over many years. It will start here, and it will spread across nations. The Templar’s reign will become ceaseless.”
His hands shook a little. He had to keep himself from gripping the sides of the pages too hard. If Seungcheol even lost a fraction of the self-restraint he was using right now, he would end up crumpling the papers and tearing them to shreds.
“It truly is much more pleasant when you are oblivious to it,” you continued in a sort of wistful tone, a mirthless smile on your lips. “You cannot stop a man consumed by greed; if he wants power, he will do anything for it.”
“What is the use of throwing away the world for power? When you come to realize that all has been lost in the pursuit of your own desires, then what remains?” After a beat, Seungcheol added, “What I mean to say is, they cannot get away with this.”
You gave him an uneasy look before thumbing through the stack of papers, pulling one of them out to show Seungcheol. It didn’t seem to be an official document, but it was a written outline of the events that would take place on Easter Sunday.
“It says here that they plan on using La Giralda for their announcement,” you pointed out. “I want to put an end to this, too, but we only have days.”
The pirate shook his head and scoffed. He, of course, had studied the history behind the Giralda Tower after his first visit to Sevilla. The great bell tower was positioned right next to the Sevilla Cathedral. Back when the cathedral was known as the Almohad mosque, it originally functioned as a minaret where a muezzin would call for prayer five times a day. How ironic that they were planning to manipulate everyone into submission at the same location where Christianity was imposed in order to erase Islamic tradition and culture.
“Incredible,” Seungcheol spat, “and I thought they could not possibly go any lower.” He bit down on his lower lip (far too harshly for he tasted blood almost immediately) while his brows furrowed. “Is it apparent when one is under the Apple’s influence? Visibly, I mean.”
“I am not entirely certain. It’s said there is a certain gleam in their eyes, as if they glow,” you confirmed before your expression darkened. “Why do you ask?”
“Earlier, when the King walked into the room,” he started. “I had a strange feeling when our eyes met…”
“Congratulations. It must be love at first sight.”
He fixed you with a glare. “Enough of that. I cannot explain it, but there was something off about the look in his eyes. It was exactly like they were glowing, like he had been possessed.”
“That must mean the Apple is already in their hands,” you said, and although you spoke calmly, there was undeniable horror in your words, “and the person controlling His Majesty is here.”
“Then we must find them!”
Although he spoke with a sense of unwavering determination, Seungcheol’s eyes unfocused and drifted to the window panel behind you. It was strangely perfect timing, but the distraction in the corner of his vision happened to be someone who looked undeniably dodgy. The pirate observed the odd person sneaking around the palace grounds with knitted brows as you spoke.
“We must, but it could be anyone.”
“Or it could be that suspicious gentleman lurking around the building,” he pointed out, jerking his thumb out the triple-pane window in the direction of the mysterious figure donning a white tunic that fell to their knees. The Cross of the Templar Order was branded right across their chest in a brilliant red.
You whirled around to peer out the window. Sure enough, your eyes grew as big as saucers at the sight, and Seungcheol had to grab your arm before you turned to hurry out the door. He had caught the figure just in time, and whoever it was appeared to be slipping out of the palace grounds undetected.
“That mark on his robes—it’s a Templar Knight,” you breathed out, attempting to wriggle your arm out of the pirate’s grip.
“Wait a moment,” Seungcheol said.
“But we must get down there before he leaves!”
“First, we need to put the papers back where they belong,” he reminded, letting go of you to walk over to the desk. He then froze at the sight of the King’s bureau. “Where did you come across them again?”
“It was right—ah, hold on, allow me.”
And perhaps it was because Seungcheol was so overwhelmed by the load of information about the King’s plans that he hardly noticed the palace guard opening the door to the study. By the time they were gawking at the man from behind the King’s desk, the pirate knew this would end badly. He only hoped that there weren’t reinforcements following suit, but judging by the shock across the man’s face, it appeared that he just so happened to stumble across them while he was doing his rounds.
A scornful look clouded the guard’s face, his sharp gaze moving to the papers in your hand. “What business do you have here?” Not quite a question that waited for an answer, but a warning of what was to come.
“Er…” Seungcheol paused. The situation they were in was not ideal; he had no weapons to defend himself, the assassin wasn’t doing much to feign innocence, and the palace guard before them was built like a beast. “We were trying to find the water closet,” he tried, careful. “I suppose this is not it.”
“Intruders,” the guard spat, guttural and dark, unsheathing his sword from its scabbard. “You have committed the grave crime of lèse-majestè, for which you must answer to His Majesty the King.”
“I do believe we just did far more than simply insult the King.” Seungcheol said, just barely loud enough for you to hear. “Is it really that serious of an offense?”
“It was merely contrived by men to spare them from criticism,” you replied in a dismissive, flat tone.
Seungcheol circled around the desk, starting, “Listen, we just—”
Before he could get any other words out, the guard raised his blade and swung in their direction, managing to land a blow on a vase and shatter it. He dodged just in time to narrowly avoid the attack, but he needed to disarm the guard before things got out of hand. Someone would surely hear if they didn't silence him quickly. Judging by the lack of reinforcements, Seungcheol was assured that the guard hadn't called for assistance yet.
He took the wind-up for the next swing as an opportunity to tackle the guard, driving his shoulder against the man’s gut to shove him to the floor. If Seungcheol had his cutlass, this battle would’ve been decided already, but he was now struggling to pry the sword from the guard’s fingers.
The guard kneed Seungcheol in the side of his ribs, which the pirate returned the favor by swinging his arm to deliver a heavy punch to the man’s jaw. His sides ached, but the adrenaline was keeping the pirate from keeling over. His attacker let out a ragged breath, panting and wriggling desperately to free himself. When his lips parted, presumably to call for help, Seungcheol struck him right in the mouth.
He was so caught up in pummeling the guard into unconsciousness that he just barely noticed the blade pressing against his midsection. Seungcheol caught the guard’s wrist just before the sharp tip was about to be plunged into his flesh.
He then felt a searing pain in skull, soon realizing that the guard had bashed his forehead against his and pinned him to the ground. Seungcheol was hardly able to make out anything but scattered bursts of light behind his eyes that wasn’t quite enough to stop him from grabbing ahold of the guard’s wrist again, stopping him from driving his sword into the pirate’s chest.
They struggled to fend each other off, gritting their teeth and mustering all of their strength to overpower the other. Seungcheol’s palms were being cleaved into by the sharp edge of the blade, but he had no choice but to grip the blade to keep himself from being slain. The tip of the sword pressed deeper and deeper against his sternum, daring to break skin and bleed crimson. Seungcheol felt his pulse in his neck jump dangerously as he tried to keep the guard from spearing through his chest.
He couldn’t just die here. This couldn’t all be for nothing.
But just when he thought it was the end of the line for him, the guard stilled. The sword slipped from his hands so helplessly, as if all the strength had seeped through his body at once, and the blade slid to the ground with a clatter. Seungcheol watched him teeter, stagger, and then draw in a shaky breath that sounded more like a death rattle in his ears. He coughed once, spraying blood against Seungcheol’s face, and then he fully collapsed on top of the pirate.
Dazed, he pushed the heavy corpse off his body, letting the guard’s body slowly bleed out on the floor of the study. The guard’s bleary eyes stared at the heavens above, unblinking. A burning sensation radiated from Seungcheol’s palms, white-hot anguish that nearly overwhelmed his senses.
At the same time, you came into view above him. Seungcheol watched as you used the guard’s uniform to wipe off the remaining blood from your blade. Then, you flicked your wrist, triggering some mechanism that allowed for the weapon to retract back into your sleeve.
“Now that he has been dealt with, shall we be on our way?”
He thoughtlessly wiped the fresh blood that stained his face, although it didn’t do much considering his hands were still bloodied, too. “Ah, yes,” he responded. “Er, thank you—for saving me.”
“We were compromised. There was no other choice,” you said as you spied from the corner of the window. “The Templar Knight is gone, but he might not have gotten far. We must leave before someone discovers us with… the body.”
“Agreed.”
Seungcheol wasn’t quite sure whether it was because he was drunk off the combat or whether he was still disoriented from a near-death experience, but he grabbed the King’s papers with blood-stained hands and crumpled them into his pockets before they snuck out again.
Unfortunately, the Templar Knight was long gone.
It was a pity, but Seungcheol had to bring you to see reason first, telling you that there was no point in chasing someone who left no trail. He understood your urgency, though. The King would soon discover that his papers were missing and one of his guards had been killed, and then there would be a bounty on both of your heads soon (if they ever managed to figure out the perpetrators).
There were five days left until Easter Sunday. They needed to find a way to stop the Templar Order by then.
As Seungcheol cradled his glass of rum at The Sleeping Bull, he couldn’t stop thinking about the way King Philip’s eyes glowed. It was something so subtle, like it could almost be mistaken as a trick of the light, but there was nothing in the room that could have reflected such a color.
There were a lot more guests occupying the rooms in the tavern now. Joshua was right when he said that more people would be coming in for Semana Santa. Earlier, when Seungcheol snuck back in through the window of your room, he had to wait an unbearably long time for the hallway to clear out so that he could hurry into his room. Seungkwan, Seokmin, and Soonyoung nearly yelled at the way their captain barged in without warning.
He haphazardly stripped off his clothes, bunching them up and tossing them in a heap under the bed. His hands were still imbrued with blood, and although Seungcheol was no stranger to the sight, he couldn’t stop thinking about how the situation could’ve gone differently. Perhaps they wouldn’t have made it back if it wasn’t just the one guard that walked in.
It was pitch-black outside now—brilliant hues of sunset lost to a shroud of darkness. Sevilla was still in its rainy season, so the rainstorm that plagued the night wouldn’t stop pounding in his ears. He could hear claps of thunder every now and then, and surprisingly, Seungcheol never felt more comfortable. There had been countless storms they braved on The Golden Corsair, but the captain quite liked the feeling of being soaked to the bone and vulnerable under the sky.
While he was lost in his own head, Seungcheol looked up to see Joshua setting down a small pouch in front of him, tossing the rag he had just used to wipe down the bar over his shoulder. “Your, er… companion requested this earlier—the pretty one. I thought it best to hand it off to you.”
“Are you making me do your work, you bastard?”
“You expect me to deliver this to your lover at such an hour?”
“Lover?” He barked out a laugh. “Do not jest.”
The innkeeper’s gentle eyes widened in a scandalized fashion. “Is she not? Then, could she be a lady of the night? A secret paramour, perhaps?”
Seungcheol snorted. “Not a chance. I suppose you could call us… partners.” It was silent for a beat, then he asked, “Do you assume every woman’s occupation has to do with serving a man?”
“Of course not. I just know you are not the type to entertain someone without reason.”
A wicked grin stretched across the captain’s face. “We have been friends for many years now, Joshua, and yet you think so lowly of me? But, I must confess, me and her are of mutual benefit to each other. I think I shall keep her near for the time being.”
Of course, the actual reason had to do with matters that he could not explain to Joshua just yet. He trusted the man deeply—after all, Joshua Hong was the man who put up with his pirate crew for years and risked his life to shelter them from authorities—but whatever was going on seemed far too complicated to get the innkeeper involved. For his friend’s own safety, Seungcheol decided he would keep this to himself.
“She is quite a mysterious one,” Joshua ruminated, “perhaps as mysterious as the King himself.”
Oh?
“The King?”
“Have you heard of the whispers concerning his children?”
Seungcheol kept a calm and even tone as he spoke, “Oh, yes, I caught word of his son passing away recently. Smallpox, correct?”
Joshua’s mouth set in a grim line. “Indeed. It truly is such a shame.”
“Eight alive and three dead—still good odds, I reckon.”
“And one is said to be in hiding, or so it is rumored,” Joshua added. “Word has it that his second wife loathes the children of his first. The story goes that the King, so fond of his first daughter, took it upon himself to hide her away, fearing the Queen’s fury might one day fall upon her.”
Seungcheol let out a snort before taking a swig of his rum. “Now, that is a proper mess of family affairs, if I ever heard one.”
“Curious, is it not? Five children sired by his first wife—three dead, one in hiding, and only one son left unharmed. There is something most peculiar about Her Majesty.”
No matter what Joshua told him, however, Seungcheol couldn’t find it in himself to care about the state of the King’s family matters. A bad person was a bad person—point blank. If this rumor really was true, though, then perhaps that meant the Queen was also someone worth looking into. After all, there had been whispers of her control over court politics due to her husband’s declining mental stability.
“Yet,” Joshua went on to say, “at the very least, His Majesty has not made a mess of Spain like the Habsburgs did.”
“Not much remains to be spoiled, I daresay. What does the King do for the poor, for education, or for the economy?” Perhaps his words were especially charged because of the information they found in His Majesty’s study earlier, but Seungcheol was sure he was saying what needed to be said. “Look at how splendid the processions for Semana Santa are! People from vast lands could come to see them, yet the monarchy does nothing to share such marvels with the world.”
The innkeeper nodded in understanding. “And what a pity it is. There must be order, if we are to make progress. Without reformation, we shall remain stagnant.” He leaned back and sighed. “Yet, thus far, Sevilla has much to improve.”
Their conversation was abruptly interrupted by one of the hostlers, Lee Chan, who came rushing in for Joshua’s assistance. Apparently, the horses were panicking because of the storm and they needed extra hands. Seungcheol was left to finish the rest of his drink in silence, quietly observing the guests who were gorging down their dinners.
Interestingly enough, the same man from the previous night was sitting quietly in the corner.
Yoon Jeonghan.
After some minutes of pondering on what the mysterious stranger’s intentions were (which led him nowhere), Seungcheol grabbed the pouch that Joshua had left and retired to his bedchamber. Seokmin was sound asleep, his snores filling the room, while Soonyoung and Seungkwan were playing cards in the corner.
He would bring the pouch to you in the morning, he decided. It was far too late for him to be knocking at a lady’s door, especially at an inn, of all places.
Once Seungcheol laid down, he tried getting some shut-eye. He wanted to do nothing but succumb to his exhaustion, but his mind was restless; all that raced through his head was you, the King, and the Templar Order. Tonight was a lot colder—a lot more dreary, too. Maybe it was because of the uneven flooring, or maybe it was because the flickering light from the candle couldn’t quite reach him, but Seungcheol found it difficult to get comfortable and allow himself to succumb to his exhaustion.
The only comfort he had was having his crewmates in the same room as him. It was something he would never admit out loud, oh no, but he had gotten far too used to having company. Back on his ship, whenever Seungcheol got restless at night, he could easily find a few of the men on his ship to keep him company. Since they operated on a watch system, there would always be pirates awake to attend to navigating the ship or keeping watch, or the occasional ones who were off-shift that the captain could drink and sing sea shanties with.
Seungcheol begrudgingly came to the conclusion that he couldn’t quite cope with being alone. That was perhaps why he set off as soon as he lost his aunt. He would’ve taken walking off the plank and plunging into unforgiving, icy waters rather than having no one.
The draft from the window wasn’t helping his spiraling thoughts. Seungcheol felt the chill down to his bones and each time he exhaled, curls of silvery vapor dissipated into the air. When he got up to try slamming it shut, the window pane would stay in place for a couple seconds before flying open again.
“The latch is faulty, Cap’n,” Soonyoung said. “We meant to mention it to Joshua in the morning.”
He grabbed the edges of the curtains. “Let me just draw the—”
Seungcheol went completely still when he noticed a figure standing several yards away, cloaked by the darkness. It was the same man from earlier: Yoon Jeonghan. The captain couldn't tell what the strange man was up to, but Jeonghan was just quietly observing the perimeter as he stood on the cobblestone pathway. Perhaps he was just lost in his thoughts as he was passing by, but this late at night?
And he was suspiciously close to the window closest to his—your window.
“What is it?” Soonyoung asked after Seungcheol closed the curtains in a flash. “Has the curtain torn, too?”
“There is a man right outside her window,” he said.
“Whose window?”
“The assassin’s.” The captain started making his way to the door. “I must warn her.”
Seungkwan grimaced. “Warn the assassin? You should be warning the man.”
Seungcheol initially let the words pass over his head as a quip, but after knocking on your door and watching it creak open, the pirate captain started to question who the real danger was when your hand flew out from the shadows to grab him by the front of the shirt. In a flash, you swung Seungcheol around and pushed him up against the wall, kicking your door closed with the heel of your foot.
The sharp tip of a blade was pressing against the side of his neck, right near his jugular vein. The only move Seungcheol dared to make was to open his eyes, meeting your fierce glare.
“What the hell are you doing outside my door?” you demanded, your breath hot against his skin.
He really should’ve told Yoon Jeonghan to be careful instead.
“Warning you about the person outside your window,” he returned with a grumble. “Mind putting the blade down, sweetheart?”
With a flick of your wrist, the blade retracted back into your sleeve—the same fashion you wielded the weapon earlier. Now that Seungcheol could process it properly, it was rather marvellous; he had never seen such a weapon. The contraption allowed your blade to remain unseen with a simple flourish of your arm. So this was the stealth of an assassin.
Still, he was slightly unsettled by the fact that you kept your blade under your bedgown.
“I noticed him not long ago. I drew the curtains before he could steal a look.” You pulled back, leaving Seungcheol to readjust his shirt around his frame. “What are you telling me for, anyway? Must I go take care of him?”
He realized that “taking care” of Jeonghan most likely meant something tragic and irreversible.
“Er—no, don’t act rashly.”
Seungcheol’s eyes hardened. This was clearly a dangerous situation for you, and he didn’t think he would be able to get a good night’s sleep knowing that he left you with someone suspicious loitering outside your window. But, for one, the pirate valued his life enough to not sleep in the same room as an assassin. Secondly, it was highly improper for him to share a room with an unmarried woman—wait, what if you were married? Choi Seungcheol, you poor excuse of a man, it would be improper either way!—not that the pirate cared much about social expectations or his reputation, anyway.
“How about I stay here for the night?” he proposed.
You gawked at him. “I beg your pardon? Stay here?”
“I feel uneasy about that man outside. It is best you do not stay here alone, lest you wake up to trouble.”
“But that is… that is completely out of the question—and indecent.”
“Need I remind you that I am a pirate and you are an assassin? I cannot say either of us are very proper to begin with.”
“Regardless, I can take care of myself perfectly fine.”
“I never said you could not.”
You gave him a strange stare, as if you were searching for a sign that you could trust Seungcheol. He was positive that you wouldn’t put your faith in someone you had just met on such unconventional terms. After all, he was getting a ship out of this before you two would go your separate ways. There was nothing warm in this partnership—not in the slightest.
He noticed you swallow thickly. “What about your men?” you asked.
“You want one of them to keep watch here instead? I shall fetch—”
“No, I meant that someone needs to protect them, too.”
Perhaps he sounded a touch too defensive, but Seungcheol couldn’t help letting out a huff and saying, “It would be in your best interest not to look down upon my men. To you, they may not seem like much, but they are a force to be reckoned with in battle. You ought to have seen how Soonyoung impaled two pirates with a—what? What is so amusing?”
A ghost of a smile tugged at your lips. “Forgive me, I was unable to hold myself back.” Before Seungcheol could get irritated at your words, you continued, “You seem to be rather fond of your men. I simply found it charming that you appear to see them as your own kin.”
The captain drew in a breath to calm his beating heart.
“What I believe is that the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb,” he replied softly, so quiet that he could hear you swallow thickly.
“Well, I cannot speak on that matter, but I share your sentiment,” you said with a dismissive wave. The only light in the room came from the soft glow of the oil lamp beside your bed, and Seungcheol noticed there was no warmth in your gaze. “As for what you said earlier, should you decide to stay the night, my bed is strictly off-limits.”
Seungcheol’s face felt hot. That, of course, wasn’t what he meant when he proposed staying in your room, but to even be misunderstood was embarrassing. He had several trysts in the past that never left him with shame burning his cheeks, but now he felt hot over a simple command that was never meant to rile him up in the first place.
“I will be taking the floor, of course,” he said. “I do not have any intentions of sleeping in the same bed as an assassin.”
You scoffed, your words charged with offense when you spat, “And I do not have any intentions of sleeping in the same bed as a pirate.”
“Pray tell, why do you speak of pirates with such disdain?”
“It was you who spoke unfavorably of me first!”
“Nay, but I distinctly remember our first meeting—”
“Meeting? You speak of the time when you so rudely dragged me into that alleyway?”
“—‘I have never been very fond of pirates.’ Those were your words, no?”
“Possibly. What of it?”
“Well then, what is your issue with us? Do you take us all for criminals?”
Your jaw clenched. “You are indeed a criminal, but I don’t fault you for that, for I, too, am guilty of the same. What it is you fight for, I do not know, but what I do believe is that violence is sometimes a necessary evil. Though the law may deem me a criminal, my intentions were never born of malice.”
“I have no intentions of hurting anyone without reason, either.”
“Then you will find that you and I are the same. I do not do this because I want to hurt people; I do this because I want to protect the freedom of the people—our freedom.”
“Yet, in order to do so, you are bound to hide who you are.”
Your eyes glazed over for a few lingering seconds. “That is right,” you responded in a softer, sadder voice, “and it is my only regret.”
When Seungcheol tried to put himself in your shoes, he figured that assassins were doomed to live a life of solitude. He was always surrounded by the warmth and familiarity of his crew, which sealed the wound that ripped open his heart after his aunt’s murder, so it was difficult for the captain to think about what he would be like if he didn’t have people around him.
If Soonyoung, Seokmin, and Seungkwan hadn’t survived that shipwreck, then Seungcheol surely would have lost his mind. He lived a life that relied on support from his comrades, and you sacrificed forming relationships because of your occupation.
Still, even if Seungcheol didn’t quite see the full scope of your situation, he still believed everyone had a chance to carve their own path, no matter the decisions they made. He once chased a dream, too, when he gave up academia to become a pirate and carry on his aunt’s legacy.
“As for the reason why I confessed my lack of fondness for pirates,” you went on, “it is because I envy you.”
He stilled. “Envy?”
What could possibly be there to envy? Seungcheol wondered if you had a few screws loose because no one in their right mind would want to covet a life where one had to constantly be on the run, never able to settle down and raise a family. You, on the other hand, kept your identity a secret, so you still had the chance to turn your life around.
It just made no sense to him, but then Seungcheol thought of how you kept rattling on about freedom this, freedom that, how you reacted to his aunt, and the gears in his head began to turn.
He spoke with an assurance that left no room for doubt. “You want to be a pirate.”
“A fool’s dream that I never grew out of,” you confirmed. “I shall admit, my upbringing was one of hardship and disappointment. I longed for adventure and… a sense of camaraderie that I was never able to have.” When the pirate took too long to react, you mumbled, “Ridicule me all you want.”
“Why would I ever ridicule you for that?”
His words left the room quieter than it was before, the tension so palpable that it nearly suffocated the both of them.
You hesitated before trying, “It is unbecoming of a woman—”
“There is no such thing,” he cut in fiercely. “If you think for one moment that I, of all people, believe such ridiculous notions, then you have me sorted out all wrong. I gave up my own academic endeavors to chase my aunt’s dreams—a woman with the same aspirations as yourself. If you believe it to be a fool’s dream, then we must be birds of a feather.”
Your lips parted ever-so-slightly, and Seungcheol reached around his neck to pull off the iron chain with the amulet, thrusting it into your hands.
“This is more than a ship,” he said. “I refuse to be a puppet to those who threaten my freedom.”
After a pause, your face broke into a small smile that somehow illuminated the room brighter than the candlelight, rivaling even the glow of the moon, and Seungcheol knew that whatever stirred in his chest was something he had never felt before.
As expected, the ground was cold and hard on his sore back. Even the hammocks back on his ships were cozier. Even the extra cushioning he had in the room with his crewmates provided far more comfort than the thin sheet you gave him.
The previous night, after Seungcheol informed his men that he would be staying in your room, they nearly fainted on the spot. Whether it was because they feared for his life or thought it was an indecent arrangement, the captain truly could not tell. (He was leaning toward the former, judging by how they sighed in relief to see him alive and well the next morning.) Before he left his room to head to yours, he pulled the edge of the curtain back to peer out the window again, but not a soul was in sight. Somehow, that was all the more unsettling.
He wound up handing you the pouch from Joshua, too, only to find out that it was a sewing kit meant to stitch up the gashes on his palms. The very thought of a needle and thread pulling together his flesh made Seungcheol wish he never gave it to you.
However, the fact that you requested it specifically for his wounds made the pirate feel oddly meek. You discovered that Seungcheol had hastily wrapped rags around his palms to hide the injury, but the cloth was soaked with blood and the cut would surely be infected if he took no further action. He ended up allowing you to take his hand in yours and sew the laceration together until it stopped bleeding profusely.
On the bright side, the stinging pain helped him fall asleep almost immediately.
The processions for Semanta Santa carried on during Martes Santo, the streets alive with teachings and parables being shared. There had already been several in the morning, some of which were silent and some of which were accompanied by saetas sung in a capella. Joshua told Seungcheol over breakfast that Holy Tuesday was full of religious floats that were designed to look as if they had come right out of the Bible, and although the pirate didn’t consider himself to be extremely devout, he was still amazed by the amount of detail that went into the celebration.
In exchange for their stay (that was completely free of charge, was what Joshua emphasized when he approached his dear friend), the innkeeper requested that Seungcheol help Chan in the stables. They were short on hands due to the influx of guests, so Seungcheol enlisted Seungkwan’s help to keep him company.
Soonyoung and Seokmin, on the other hand, were to follow you. The captain was slightly nervous that you would ask too much of them, especially with how you impulsively took him into the King’s study the previous day, but he was more at ease when you stated that you three were simply looking for anyone that could be a Templar Knight. The one person you wanted to look into was Jeonghan, which you only concluded in the morning, thus you were slightly disappointed that you didn’t confront him last night.
However, the search for Jeonghan was fruitless. You, Seokmin, and Soonyoung ended up returning just before nightfall with dismal expressions, and Seungcheol and Seungkwan even more so because of all the horse dung they had to clean up.
The next day bore similar results. The only thing remotely eventful was watching people play out The Passion���plays that depicted the events leading up to the death of Jesus Christ. Seungcheol was admittedly feeling much better about spending the day with you instead of being around horses, but no matter how long he strode across town and ducked into alleyways, there were no signs of any Templar Knights around. It was as if they were never even there, and he almost wondered if you and him had hallucinated the one knight.
On Holy Thursday, Jesus was betrayed.
“I see no way forward from this,” you said with a resigned sigh after yet another round of scouting out suspicious activity.
“But, Miss, you mentioned that this Templar Order would use the Apple come Sunday. The tower by the cathedral, aye?” Seokmin supplied. “If the worst comes to worst, we know where to find ‘em on that day.”
“That is true.” You let out a shuddering sigh, your shoulders still tense. You had been worrying at your lower lip all day—not that Seungcheol had been paying any extra attention to that portion of your face. “I am only concerned that they might carry out their plans sooner since they must have discovered by now that we stole the drafts of their schemes.”
We, as in Seungcheol. He started to wonder if he acted too impulsively. The papers were still stuffed in the pockets of the coat that he had strewn under the bed. Perhaps taking them was too obvious, but Seungcheol figured that the papers were safer in his hands than theirs.
“We will put a stop to this,” the captain assured.
With deep sincerity in his eyes, Soonyoung held up his hand and professed, “I solemnly swear it on Seungkwan’s life.”
Seungkwan scowled. “Swear on your own life, ye bilge rat!”
“I would rather not risk mine.”
Yet, the unease wouldn’t leave your brow. Once you noticed how fatigued the pirates looked, you said, “Return to the inn and get something to eat, you lot. I shall return after I’ve had a further look around.”
Seungkwan frowned. “Positive? Will you be all right to return on your own?”
Seungcheol found himself turning to you and saying, “I will accompany you,” before he even fully thought of the words in his head.
Thus, he wound up walking the same path around town for the umpteenth time with you by his side. His energy was only sustained by the torrijas he had scarfed down earlier and the smell of orange blossoms that lingered in the air.
“Say,” you told him, starting up a new conversation with a hint of embarrassment while they were passing by a group of children that were running about, “I am afraid I only vaguely remember the name of your ship. What was she called again?”
“The Golden Corsair,” Seungcheol answered proudly. “She was a real beauty.”
“What made you choose that name?”
“My aunt’s vessel was called the Golden Fortune. I took the first part of it… and I was eager to prove myself as a pirate in those days. I added ‘Corsair’ to the end for that reason.” He offered a fleeting smirk that was gone as quickly as it appeared. “Why do you ask? Were you envisioning yourself as part of my crew?”
“Not quite,” you said, and even though your hood concealed your face, he could hear the smile in your voice. They were past the square now, crossing a bridge that led them away from the lively crowd. “My dream was to one day command a ship of my own. I wished to name her ‘The Crown’s Revenge,’ but I suppose it is too bold of a name.”
“The Crown’s Revenge,” Seungcheol echoed to see how the words weighed on his tongue. “It suits you. I quite like it.” Then, with utmost caution, he pointed out, “Although, that is one way to put a target on your back.”
You laughed—a sound that he never really heard from you. It sounded rather nice in Seungcheol’s ears, much nicer than any sea shanty he’d listened to.
“If I am to make a statement, it must be bold, no?”
He eyed you warily. “You must have a death wish with the way you—”
“Seungcheol.”
“—recklessly. I simply cannot help but worry about—”
“Seungcheol,” you interjected in an urgent whisper once again.
The pirate followed your line of sight down the dusty road they were walking on, and he shuddered in the humid breeze.
A Templar Knight stood right across from them, ever so still, and despite the fact that they couldn’t see a face behind the helmet, Seungcheol was almost certain it was the same one they saw at the Alcazár. Yet, oddly enough, the knight didn’t engage, simply observing them for a short while before turning to walk off.
That was when Seungcheol noticed that inside his gloved hand was a golden sphere, emanating a faint glow.
He didn’t even have to look at you to figure out what it was.
Without another thought, he barked out a command for the knight to stop, running forward to catch up to him. He was sure he would regret such a hasty decision, considering he was weaponless, but before Seungcheol even found himself in arm’s length of grabbing the back of the knight, the bastard unsheathed his long sword and turned to swing at the pirate.
Seungcheol dodged, missing the strike by a hair and stumbling over his feet. Once he regained his balance, however, the knight rammed the pommel of his sword straight into Seungcheol’s temple, causing his vision to momentarily go black with pinpricks of white light scattering across his vision. His teeth rang from the impact. His head throbbed in slow waves that nearly felt unbearable, and searing pain gathered right behind his eyes.
He heard another shout, and when his blurred vision started to return with his rapid blinks, he saw you and the Templar Knight locked in combat. The pirate grumbled and scrambled to his feet. He used his foot to break off a wooden post that stuck out of the ground. The wood cracked and splintered off, leaving a sharp enough edge to attack the knight with.
The pirate then staggered forward to bash his newly-fashioned weapon over the knight’s helmet. The wood split down the middle once it made contact with the metal. The Templar Knight grunted and held the side of his head, giving you an opening to attack again.
In a fluid motion, your leg swept under the enemy, the ball of your foot striking the bone right above his ankle and knocking him off-kilter. Even when the knight attempted to remain upright, though, his knee buckled and his leg crumpled under him.
The Apple of Eden slipped out of the knight’s hold, rolling across the ground until Seungcheol lunged to grab ahold of it.
But just when he thought they had the upper hand, the Templar Knight retaliated with a second card up his sleeve. You let out a choked cry when the knight twisted your arm—the one concealing your weapon—and he spun you around to hold you at knifepoint with your own blade. You struggled to free yourself, but the assailant pulled out a dagger with his other hand and held it to your gut.
You couldn’t move an inch without either one of the blades pressing into you; it was either your own blade that would slice your throat, or the knight’s dagger that would plunge into your abdomen.
When you freed one hand to fight him off, the Templar Knight slipped his dagger back into his tunic and used his free hand to choke you instead. You gasped and kicked at the knight’s shins in a desperate attempt to be released, but his grip was unrelenting.
The Templar Knight kept staring ahead, and the pirate didn’t need to see his face or hear his voice to understand what the knight’s message was; it was either the Apple or you.
Amidst your struggle for air, Seungcheol made out your lips framing a word that he suddenly wished he could not comprehend: Run.
Honestly, the decision he wanted to make was clear to him, but you were telling him to do the exact opposite. This could be their only chance to retrieve the artifact from the enemy. This could be their only chance to put an end to the calamity that was yet to happen. Yet, even though Seungcheol had the opportunity to do the right thing, he wasn’t sure he could bring himself to give you up.
He scanned the perimeter. When he looked closely, there were various other Templar Knights hiding behind walls and crates, waiting for their cue to attack, like a predator stalking its prey. This wouldn’t end even if Seungcheol ran; the knights would hunt him down until they were able to pry the artifact from his cold, dead fingers. They were outnumbered—and hopeless.
He could run. He wasn’t sure how far he would get, but maybe if he ran fast enough, he could lose them.
“Please,” you begged out loud this time, your voice no louder than a croak, swallowing hard when the sharp edge of the blade pressed harder against your skin. “Go.”
Choi Seungcheol would do the right thing.
Choi Seungcheol would do the right thing.
The selfish pirate then realized that it was idiotic of him to think that he could ever be a hero. A man like him, who acted out of his best interests, couldn’t possibly save everyone. No, he could only think of himself first.
So, with bated breath, Seungcheol paused before handing over the Apple of Eden to the knight.
The Templar Knight released you and shoved you to the ground just before your eyes were about to roll to the back of your head. You were unmoving for a moment before Seungcheol heard you gulping lungfuls of air. The knight took the Apple, looked between you and Seungcheol, and then turned around without another word. The pirate could only watch helplessly as the other knights in hiding retreated, too.
He lowered himself to the ground to help you up. You refused his hand and got to your feet on your own, scowling as you did. There was something vicious about the way you glared at him, cold and unforgiving.
“We lost the Apple,” you rasped out in disbelief, and then you turned to look at Seungcheol with clear disdain. Your shout bounced off the walls when you yelled, “You lost us the Apple!”
“There were others,” he said. “He was going to kill you.”
“Do you understand what you have just cost us?”
“What I understand is that I saved your life,” he got out through gritted teeth. “If I did not let him take the Apple, you would be dead!”
“Then you should have let him! There is absolutely nothing more important than that artifact being in the right hands, Seungcheol. Surely, you must know that!”
“I do, but not at the cost of your own life.”
“Even at the cost of my own life,” you muttered darkly, “even if I am to meet the same fate as my mother.”
“Well, I refuse. I will not choose to let you die.”
“I am not giving you an option to choose me or the Apple. I am telling you right now that under any circumstance, you choose the Apple.”
He scoffed, bristled. “I really do not want to have this conversation right now. I cannot believe you are even saying this.”
“Well, I cannot believe you! The Apple was in our hands!”
Something inside him burst with hot, fiery rage, sweeping through him in an icy wash, and he turned on you. “Do you really hold such low value for your own life? Say I sacrificed you for it, say I abandoned you and ran off with the Apple—what then? What will I do with it? You yourself said that the artifact cannot ever go in the wrong hands, so what makes you think that I would do any good with it?”
You swallowed hard, the hesitation clear on your face. You pulled off your hood so that you could look Seungcheol in the eye, and he had never seen you struck with such agony until now.
“Because I trust you.”
Seungcheol’s heart stuttered in his chest before he regained his composure. “Then I must apologize because I do not regret my decision one bit. Even if I had a second chance, I would choose you over the Apple again.”
“I cannot… I cannot understand you one bit.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I thought I made myself clear. What is it you cannot understand?”
You were shaking now—whether it was because of the vulnerability of their argument or how you were seething, Seungcheol couldn’t tell. On the surface, it must have seemed like such an absurd argument; two people heatedly confessing how much they cared for each other, yet their outrage kept them from truly seeing that.
“In that moment,” he started once more, “if it were me instead of you, would you choose to let me die or would you choose to save me?”
You could only stare at him in silence, almost statue-like if it weren’t for your bottom lip twitching in the slightest. The sky darkened with dark grey clouds rolling in front of the setting sun; there would be no brilliant splash of color across the sky for today’s sunset.
“Even as an assassin, when you murder in cold blood for a cause, you still cannot give me a straight answer to this simple question,” he continued in a low voice. “Tell me, Y/N, would you choose me or the artifact?” Seungcheol waited for a few moments to pass before he said, “If you feel as I do, then I sincerely hope you never feel the harrowing ache of facing the decision that I had to make back there.”
You and Seungcheol did not speak for the rest of the evening, not when you walked back to The Sleeping Bull, not when you ate dinner, and not when you headed to your respective bedchambers. Even when his men tried to press him for answers, he couldn’t bring himself to recount what happened because he knew it would just make him fume again.
Despite his exasperation, though, one thing had become more clear than ever: You had become too precious of an existence to Choi Seungcheol.
Seungcheol was still quite vexed the next day. It bled into his routine, too; he stabbed his meat with his fork far too harshly, he grumbled incoherently when he tried to dismiss his men’s constant questions about what happened, and he nearly broke the doorknob from how aggressive he was being. He assumed he would feel better in the morning, but when he discovered that you had slipped out of your room before dawn, the pirate was overcome with a bout of anxiousness.
Moreover, his behavior was rather unmannerly for Good Friday.
Joshua was especially worried when he saw Seungcheol in the morning. He even patted his head, which was an inane thing for an adult man to do to another adult man, who also happened to be one of the most fearsome pirates of the seven seas. In spite of that, the head pat did feel rather nice, he had to admit.
Most fearsome pirate, my arse, Seungcheol thought bitterly. I’m losing my damned head over a woman, and I dare call myself fearsome.
Since Joshua immediately picked up on Seungcheol’s bad mood, he let the captain off the hook when it came to work that needed to be done around the tavern. Instead, Seokmin, Soonyoung, and Seungkwan had to pick up the slack for him. The three men begrudgingly followed Joshua into the kitchen to get to washing dishes and cleaning the floor.
Seungcheol had enough of loitering about, so he set out to look for you. To be honest, he wasn’t keen on talking to you, but he had been worrying about your disappearance all morning to the point where it was eating at him. After the stunt you pulled yesterday, he needed to find you before he damn near lost his mind.
He ended up walking around town for hours until he stumbled upon you—by total coincidence, no less. Seungcheol cut across a field to take a shortcut when he spotted you (well, he more so recognized you by your hooded cloak) at a graveyard, kneeling down on the grass.
“What on earth are you doing here?” he called.
Startled, you nearly jumped at the sound of his voice. Seungcheol suddenly wished he hadn’t asked such a stupid question; it was Viernes Santo, for Christ’s sake, and you had already opened up to him about your dead mother.
Your eyes were sharp. “How were you able to find me?”
“Mere coincidence,” he answered. Seungcheol looked down to see that you had made a cross out of sticks, and although it looked small and flimsy, you were earnestly praying to it. He started to kneel down next to you. “Is this for your mother?”
There was a pile of stones supporting the twig that acted as the base for the cross. Seungcheol found a stray pebble beside his leg and gently placed it among the other rocks.
“No,” you said with your head still low and your eyes shut in prayer, “it is for your aunt.”
“What?” His voice came out in more of a strangled breath than an actual, coherent sound. Seungcheol felt like the wind had just been punched out of his chest, and he could hardly breathe when he looked at you. “What did you just say?”
“Today is about honoring the deceased. You said you were unable to see your aunt’s body, so I assumed you were not able to lay her to rest or make a grave for her.”
Seungcheol fell silent. The only sounds he could hear was the wind whistling through the tree branches and the blackbird that chattered softly in the distance.
You made sure to add, “If I overstepped, I apologize. I simply thought it was a shame for a woman of such power to be denied a proper burial.”
“No,” he said, louder than he expected it to sound. Damn it all, Choi Seungcheol had braved storms and battle that not even the strongest of the Guardia Real could face, and here he was, about to cry over a gesture unlike any other. He hadn’t even thought to do something like this for his aunt. “No, Y/N, it is just…” After a few moments of floundering, Seungcheol came to the conclusion that he wouldn’t be able to find the words to express how he felt right now, so he settled for saying, “Thank you.”
“Well, go on and pray, then. I am sure your aunt would find comfort in hearing that you are alive and well.”
Seungcheol clasped his hands together and, for the first time in years, he prayed.
There were years of stories that he needed to catch his aunt up on. He thought of all the good memories, all the battles won, all the friends he made, and he bottled it all up to send to Heaven. Seungcheol never quite understood what a connection to God meant, but with his head lowered and his lips framing a silent prayer, he felt as though an invisible string was keeping him connected to the skies above.
Once he finished his soundless prayer and noticed that you were also done, the pirate asked, “What about your mother?”
“She is here,” you replied with a smile, “and, fortunately, she is very loved. I am sure she can do with my attention being elsewhere for now.”
“I want to pray for her, too,” he said. “Can I meet her?”
Your expression faltered, a visible tremor running through your body.
“Then promise me something.”
“What is it?”
“Promise me you will not look at me any differently as you do now.”
“Why would I?”
You didn’t answer, giving him a wilting look instead.
The two of you stood up, and Seungcheol followed you to the far back of the graveyard. Right in the middle was a grand headstone, standing out from the rest, with several bouquets lining the base of the grave. Ornate patterns were carved into the stone, depicting figures which Seungcheol assumed to be her with her husband and children.
Maria Luisa Gabriella of Savoy.
The King’s first wife.
For a moment, Seungcheol thought you were pulling his leg, which really wasn’t a funny thing to do at a graveyard. However, when he saw the solemn look in your eyes, he quickly realized that this was all very real, yet it was difficult to even process.
You were the hidden princess that Joshua was talking about. You were the first daughter that King Philip V concealed from his second wife.
“I do not remember much, honestly,” you started. “I remember her, of course—oh, I still cannot forget the way she sang to me, or the way she ran her hands through my hair—but, everything else—her death, my father’s mental afflictions, my step-mother’s harshness—it is all a bit blurry.”
Horrified, Seungcheol thought back to all the times he had insulted the Crown in front of you. All those times you simply let him call them such vile names, and you had been a princess this entire time. Come to think of it, that must have been why you knew exactly where the King’s study was; you had lived in the damn castle yourself.
The Crown’s Revenge. It all made sense.
“After my father remarried and Her Majesty became my step-mother”—you spoke of her with venom in your tone—“he had one of his guards escort me from the castle in the dead of night—all the way to France. I lived with a new family who took little liking to me. They were of humble means; I suppose this was to ensure that my name would never resurface. They cared little for my preference, so I kept to myself. When I came of age and could hold my own, I left that household and never once looked back.”
It was exactly the way Joshua recounted, but it was just impossible for Seungcheol to wrap his head around the idea of you being the lost princess.
Then, you pulled off your hood, tugging down the neckline to show your intricate insignia that Seungcheol recognized in a heartbeat, and as soon as he did, there was no room for any of this to be a lie. The insignia was made of a gold chain lain with intertwined Burgundian firestones, its pendant being a golden fleece that sparkled under the sunlight. No matter how much he racked his brain, there was no other way such an heirloom could be in your possession without alerting the city of a great theft.
It was the Distinguished Order of the Golden Fleece, given only to members of the royal family. The only reason Seungcheol could recognize it was because he had seen it resting on the chests of monarchs, and now it was on your neck.
“My father gave it to me before he sent me away,” you told him. “Should I ever need to find my way back to him, I suppose… though I do not desire such a thing.”
He only realized you were crying when he heard you sniffle.
Seungcheol wasn't sure what came over him, but he found himself pulling you into his arms so that your face was buried in his chest. You didn't resist nor did you pull away, so he wrapped his arms around your waist and kept you close.
He pulled back just enough to cup your cheeks with his large hands, guiding your face to look up at him. “Choose whichever path you want; I will walk right beside you, no matter where it leads.”
Shakily, you raised your hand to place it over his, and your expression melted into the same longing that was drawn across Seungcheol’s face. At this moment, he came to realize that this was probably the first time he was able to look into your eyes for so long, allowing himself to drown in their depths. He had seen stars in the night sky that were dimmer than the ones in your eyes. Seungcheol swore he could kiss you right then and there, but he didn't.
In the middle of the graveyard, with blackbirds singing and the smell of orange blossoms lingering in the air, the captain held you in a tight embrace until your tears stopped.
Afterward, when the sky was painted with an array of bright hues, you and Seungcheol set up graves for the rest of his crew lost to the shipwreck. He sat with them until the sun dipped below the horizon.
That night, Choi Seungcheol was restless.
As he laid on your floor that night—far from your bed where the flickering light from the candle couldn’t quite reach him, not even if he stretched out his fingers—the emotion stirring in his chest, thick and soupy, was maddening. Every trace of longing he had felt, every shard of affection that dug itself deeper into his heart, became so all-consuming that he could not pinpoint any other feeling but pure, unadulterated desire.
Seungcheol had to get it out of him, even if it meant breaking open his ribcage to rip out the very organ responsible for this feeling. Bury those bothersome emotions before he could give name to them.
For the past few nights, he succumbed to his exhaustion within minutes of his head hitting the ground. As a matter of fact, the pirate hardly waited to make sure you were safely in bed before heading to bed, which raised the question of what the bloody hell was the point of him sleeping there? Still, you didn’t ask, his men didn’t ask, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to say anything.
Tonight, however, the two of you hardly spoke, and their tension, albeit not being acted upon, was charged with electricity. Seungcheol craned his neck to check if you were asleep, but from the way you were positioned, he couldn’t really tell.
But just when he was about to give up and go to bed, you called out quietly, “Seungcheol?” And then, as if you were almost certain he wouldn’t answer, you hesitantly added, “Are you still awake?”
He cleared his throat. “I am.”
The two of you slipped into silence once again, with part of Seungcheol waiting for you to say something and the other half wondering why you even called out his name in the first place. It wasn’t comfortable silence; the air was dense with unspoken feelings, sticky and clinging to him like sweat-drenched fabric.
To yearn for someone deeply, enough to keep a part of them with you—Seungcheol could start to understand how his aunt felt when she kept the assassin’s amulet with her all those years. But it wasn’t just a part of you he wanted, it was all of you. In this moment, he wanted to hold you in his arms and never let you go. In fact, he was afraid that, if given the chance, he would completely lose himself in you.
Right when he was about to speak up again, you finally broke the ice.
“It would have served no purpose,” you said, turning to face him and clarifying, “running from that Templar Knight. There was nothing we could have done.”
He propped himself up on his elbow. “Finally seeing it now, are you?”
“Even if you were to run, they would have surely caught up to you.”
“Yes.”
“Even if you were fast enough, there were far too many of them.”
“Yes.” Seungcheol found himself sitting up properly now. “I should also mention that I was without weaponry. I had to use a mere piece of wood.”
“That is not my fault,” you said. “You ought to have taken the weapon off that palace guard.”
“At the time, I was not giving thought to taking a weapon off his lifeless body,” he grumbled.
You two lapsed into momentary silence again before you ordered, “Come here.”
“Pardon?”
“Come over here. I cannot see your face when you speak.”
“But I was not speaking.”
You released an irritated sigh, rubbing your brow with two fingers. “Just come here, pirate.”
With a grunt, Seungcheol pulled himself to his feet and made his way over to your bed. He took careful steps, as if he was sure you would tell him to turn back at any time, but you seemed much calmer than he felt. Perhaps your intentions weren’t in tune with where his twisted mind was going.
“Sit,” you told him, and Seungcheol took a seat at the edge of the cot. “Give me your hands.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Were you always so forward?”
“Give me your hands.”
Scoffing, Seungcheol let you take his hands in yours, turning them over so that his palms were up. He watched you as you carefully undid the wraps on his hands to look at the stitched-up wound. Now, his flesh looked as if it was pulling itself together, forming a pink scar where the stitches held. The discomfort didn’t quite bother him and he didn’t exactly need you to replace the cloth for him, but who was he to complain when you were so gently asking to hold his hands?
She was not very kind, he reminded himself. Nor was she asking.
Seeing you before him, however, was quite the sight to behold.
“You must attend to this daily, lest it becomes infected,” you said.
“Y/N.”
“Wash it thoroughly—”
“Y/N.”
“—and use a clean cloth—what is it?”
“I think there is something wrong with me.”
Your eyes widened in alarm, fear swimming in glossy pupils, and you gripped his hands tighter. “What? What is it, Seungcheol? Do you feel unwell?”
“Not quite,” he said. “I cannot stop thinking of that moment when that Templar Knight forced me to choose between you and the Apple.”
“You had no choice, Seungcheol,” you said. “It does us no good to keep dwelling on such matters. We cannot change the past.”
“It plagues me,” he told you with agony drawing his brows together. “Humanity, as we know it, could fall under complete submission; yet, in the face of that, I believe my mind was already set.”
“Stop thinking about it.”
“From the moment he laid his hands upon you, I knew what I was going to do.”
“Seungcheol, enough.”
He slipped his hands from your grasp so that he could hold yours instead, running his thumb across your knuckles, one by one. Seungcheol tried to focus on keeping the tension concentrated within him completely concealed, but it melted off his frame when his dark eyes met yours.
“No matter how much I think about it,” he murmured, “there was no doubt I was going to choose you over the world.”
You drew in a breath.
The flame on the wick flickered, its shadow cast across the wall. Seungcheol’s heart pounded frantically in his ears, and he begged for any sort of reaction to reassure him that you weren’t about to pretend that he wasn’t sitting right before you. He was fully expecting for his words to infuriate you, or perhaps you would deflect the conversation by telling him to get some rest, but what you replied with was something he never would have anticipated.
“I shall not hold it against you. I, too, cannot say with certainty that I would have allowed something to happen to you, either.”
At first, there was silence, and then it happened faster than Seungcheol could think, before he even realized he had already wet his lips and dropped his gaze to your lips. He closed the distance, kissed you so lightly that he was nearly unsatisfied, and then pulled away before the kiss could escalate into something else entirely.
“I apologize,” he got out in a rush. “I was simply—”
“Enough with your apologies already.”
This time, you reached over and pressed your lips to his.
It was soft. So soft that Seungcheol was sure this feeling would plague him for nights on end. He could feel your tenacity in the way you kissed him, but there was something meek about it, too.
Something between a groan and a gasp was caught in Seungcheol’s throat as his hand found the small of your back, running his finger down the notches of your spine. The way he needed you, it was almost primal. Their kiss was a quiet hunger that could not be satisfied, and their motions began to lose their subtlety once he slipped his tongue past your parted lips. The pirate couldn’t get enough as his hands roamed your body, as yours gripped his hair, and as they began to tug each other’s clothes off senselessly.
“I thought about this—all day—racked my head all night—” Seungcheol murmured, his words broken up by the kisses he started leaving down your jaw. “I needed to have you like this.” He let his lips drag down the column of your neck, inhaling sharply until you shuddered. He laved the tender spot with his tongue before sucking on it. “I cannot stop thinking about you. It drives me mad.”
“Seungcheol,” you gasped out, and oh, how the way you called out his name burned in his head like eternal damnation.
He was all but ripping your clothes off, pulling them off your body without a care. You did the same, tugging at his shirt and undoing his pants hastily so that Seungcheol only had to kick them off his ankles. He ran his hand down your bare arms when he realized that you were missing the contraption.
“Do you no longer sleep with it? Your hidden blade?” he asked, leveling his gaze.
You shook your head, and Seungcheol was overcome with the urge to kiss you again. His lips latched on to your neck, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses across your skin as he continued to undress you. Once the garments were strewn aside, he had to catch his breath upon seeing you completely bare in the dim, orange light.
Choi Seungcheol, hardened by years of battle and strife, was now utterly weak at the sight of your naked body.
Good God. You were a treasure like no other.
He aimlessly traced your hip bone with his finger, moving lower and lower until his hand was at the apex of your legs.
“May I?” he asked softly despite being seconds away from snapping completely.
You drew in an unsteady breath. “Yes.”
He grabbed both of your ankles and lifted them so that they were draped over his broad shoulders. Seungcheol wondered how long it would take him to map out your body in perfect detail, figuring out where exactly he needed to touch and kiss you to rouse such wonderful sounds from you.
A tremor ran through your thighs when he skimmed a finger across your engorged clit, and he smirked at how sensitive you had gotten already. As he pressed messy kisses to your neck, he moved two fingers in tight circles around your clit until you were whimpering for more.
He then paused to bring his fingers to his lips, maintaining eye contact with you as he wetted them with his tongue, and then he slipped one finger inside your slit so slowly in order to watch your face crumple as he fingered you. He wanted to commit this to memory, to forever be haunted by the look of pure desire on your face.
After Seungcheol slipped another finger past your folds, he started pumping them at a steady rhythm, although he held your body with his other hand like it was fragile glass. He felt a little winded by your eagerness, each moan driving him closer and closer to the brink of madness, and just as he felt that you were about to orgasm, he pulled his fingers out of you.
The mewl that escaped your throat made his blood rush to his cock. Seungcheol pressed a sweet kiss to your lips as an apology.
“I want to taste you, mi corazón,” he whispered. He grabbed your hand and pressed more kisses to your palm as you whined for more. “Will you allow me?”
“Have me—please,” you breathed out, “but we must be quiet, Seungcheol.”
His lip curved into a smirk. “Ah, right. Had I not known any better, I might have assumed you took pleasure in being heard.”
“That is simply not true,” you tried, unable to look him in the eye as you said it.
“I do not blame you. You have a most pleasing voice, particularly when you cried out—”
“Seungcheol.”
“No need to be modest, Y/N,” he crooned, “just allow me to take care of you.”
With a huff, you watched as his eyes flitted to your cunt, and then he lowered himself so that his head was situated between your legs. He pressed a surprisingly kiss to your cunt, grinning when you crooned in response. Pushing apart your thighs, Seungcheol experimentally rolled his tongue across your clit, and once he was satisfied with your reaction, he flattened his tongue and licked one long stripe along your folds. The moan that he got in return was a melody in his ears, and he couldn’t stop plunging his tongue between your slit to hear you sing again.
Choi Seungcheol had been starved.
He ate you out with precision, burying his face into your cunt and gripping your thighs tight as they wrapped around his face. Seungcheol was painfully hard himself, grinding against the bed as he devoured you for some friction that would relieve his ache.
He wasn’t sure how long he had been lost in you, only that the way you chanted his name like a broken mantra was spurring him to keep going, but a particularly languid curl of his tongue had you shaking with pleasure right under him. He lapped at your folds throughout your orgasm, keeping your hips pinned down as you arched your back.
In a lustful stupor, Seungcheol moved to slant his lips against yours again.
The back of your neck was slick with sweat when he grabbed it, but Seungcheol was more focused on how heavenly you tasted. He shamelessly grinded his hips against you, chasing the pleasure that he so desired.
“Seungcheol,” you panted out after breaking for air, and you immediately lost your senses again as the pirate started leaving kisses on the swell of your breasts, then your nipples. “You bastard, won’t you just take me already?”
“Filthy words for a lady.”
You rolled your eyes. “This lady keeps a weapon beneath her bed, and she may well use it on you if you do not act swiftly.”
Seungcheol laughed. He would have to do some self-reflection later because it was rather strange that your threats only turned him on more. Still, there were more important matters at hand; one of them was how longed for you so deeply that it was almost painful.
He lined up his stiff cock at your entrance, teasing your folds. With bated breath, Seungcheol held the side of your face and looked you in the eye as he pushed himself inside you. He moved his hand to silence the cry that nearly ripped from your throat, but he made sure to go slow enough for you to adjust. At his size, he needed to approach this carefully.
Initially, Seungcheol’s motions were slow and torturous despite his fierce need to have you as he wanted. Admittedly, he was restraining himself, allowing you to adjust to how he fit so perfectly inside you, how your bodies connected like they were molded for each other. Advance, hold, fall back—he thrusted inside you at different angles, different speeds, assessing which one would rouse a bigger reaction from you.
After some trials, however, he found a proper rhythm that you could keep up with. Seungcheol wiped the tears that streamed down your cheeks and left kisses in their wake instead.
Through his muzzy haze of lust, he growled against your neck. “Y/N.” Although he called out your name with a sort of soft reverence, the sharp snaps of his hips were unyielding.
Heat unfurled inside him as he pounded into you, and it was difficult enough that you had to feel so good wrapped around him and your voice kept stuttering with each thrust. Seungcheol almost found it unfair that you were so perfect for him. When you dug your nails into his back, blubbering about how close you were, his hands slid to hold your face and press your foreheads together.
“Come for me, mi corazón,” he murmured against your lips.
Your mouth fell open, but your orgasm crashed over you before any words could come out. Instead, your moan was the most beautiful sound that he had ever heard. In the haze of his pleasure, though, his hips bucked out of rhythm a few times before he was drowning in euphoria, cumming right as your walls clenched around his cock. Seungcheol did his best to fuck you through your orgasm with his sore muscle, helping you ride out your high for as long as possible, and then he pulled out once you were spent. The very motion made the both of you shiver.
The room was quiet now. Only the sounds of heavy breathing filled the space as Seungcheol pushed loose strands of your hair out of your face.
Neither of you said anything, but it was clear where your feelings laid. Even if you acted like this night hadn’t happened the next morning, Seungcheol would tell you how he felt all over again until he got the point across.
But he was sure that you wouldn’t pretend because when Seungcheol laid back down on the bed, you curled up next to him and buried your face in his chest.
Ah, thought the pirate, this is the treasure I have been searching for my entire life.
Daylight poured in through the window, the leaves from the citrus tree outside painting dapples of sun against the wall. Seungcheol was ready to breathe in the smell of orange blossoms and hold you close until you roused from your slumber, but you wound up jolting awake from the sound of banging against the door.
Seungcheol practically jumped to his feet to pull on his clothes as fast as he could. You did the same, using the blanket to cover your chest as you reached for your garments that the pirate flung away from the bed.
Soonyoung’s voice was loud and clear amidst the sporadic knocking. “Cap’n! Y/N! Open up, it’s us!”
“One moment!” he yelled back, flustered. The unrelenting passion from last night came back in a flash of memories, and Seungcheol couldn’t stop looking back at you as he recollected the way your legs felt wrapped around his hips.
Once you two were decent, Seungcheol hastily opened the door with an unenthusiastic look drawn across his face. His sailors had a penchant for choosing the worst possible times to get his attention, and one of those times was right now. However, once the captain laid eyes upon Yoon Jeonghan, who was scowling from under his hood, he immediately realized the gravity of the situation. He ushered them in quickly and closed the door before anyone else in the tavern noticed what was going on.
“Release him already,” commanded Seungcheol, who was wondering why Jeonghan was required to be held in place by three men; Soonyoung and Seokmin pinned his arms down his sides while Seungkwan had a hand clamped over his mouth. It looked like a rather unconventional embrace that neither party found comfortable.
“Are you mad?” Jeonghan’s words dripped with scorn as he backed up from the five of them. He readjusted his hood so that his face was concealed properly before asking, “What business could you possibly have with me, pray tell, that necessitates surrounding and accosting me in a public bathhouse?”
The three men were met with awfully scandalized looks from you and Seungcheol.
“We were clothed!” Seokmin tried, frantically. “We gave him a chance to listen, but the lunatic tried stabbing us!”
“That could have marked the eighth time Seungkwan has been stabbed,” Soonyoung said, gesturing to the pirate who was nodding along solemnly. “Consider how he feels.”
Jeonghan, however, remained unimpressed. “Be grateful that was all I did. Had I thought you were an actual threat, I would have gouged out your eyeballs back there.”
“Putting… that matter aside,” Seungcheol started, hesitating before turning to face Jeonghan directly, “I have wanted to speak with you.” He spared you a quick glance. “We both have, actually.”
Rattled, Jeonghan straightened up. “Me? Whatever you wish to—”
“You are an assassin, too, are you not?” you blurted out.
Seungcheol and his men exchanged appalled looks from behind you. Neither of them said anything but simply backed away to show that they had no intentions of asking the question you raised. Really, at this rate, they were doing a better job to mask your identity than you were.
Moreover, Yoon Jeonghan already suspected the five of them were mad for basically abducting him, and now whatever you were spewing was making the lot of you look even worse.
Jeonghan returned your question with an even stare, void of emotion. Just when Seungcheol thought your lack of subtlety couldn’t get any worse, you pulled the amulet with the assassin’s insignia off your neck and thrust it in the man’s direction.
“A Hidden One,” he echoed. “So, you must be here for the same reason as I am, then,” Jeonghan, much to their surprise, said with traces of amusement in his tone. “This little exploit of yours surely contravenes the Creed, no?”
“No,” you replied. “I have not betrayed the Brotherhood.”
“An assassin must never compromise the Brotherhood,” Jeonghan recited in a dark voice.
“I have not. I can promise you that my alliance with these pirates is trustworthy.”
“Then, where did they send you from?”
“France, but I came here out of my own accord.” You pointed your blade in his direction. That was right; only Seungcheol knew of your personal ties to this mission. “Now tell us where you came from.”
“Easy now.” Jeonghan held up his hands in surrender, a grimace on his face. “Syria.”
(“Terrible assassins, these two,” Seungkwan muttered. “No one practices proper anonymity these days.”
Soonyoung hummed in agreement. “Must run in their brotherhood.”)
Jeonghan pulled off his hood, revealing his dark hair that he kept tied back, and you slowly lowered your weapon. “How long have you known of my occupation?”
“I had my suspicions. I believed you to either be a Templar Knight or an assassin. Yet, were you a knight, you would not take kindly to seeing us right now,” you explained. “Seungcheol and I were attacked by a group of Templar Knights a few days ago. We had been attempting to track you down due to my hunch, but you were imperceptible—just like an assassin.” You then asked, “Are you aware of what is unfolding in Sevilla?”
“I am indeed. The Templar Order intends to bring everyone here under their command tomorrow. If you value your safety, I advise you all to leave the city without delay.”
“We will not,” Seungcheol spoke up. “We will see this to the end. I have already put my life on the line for this.”
“There is no time,” Jeonghan said. “After tomorrow, everyone will be under their control.”
“They have the Apple of Eden!” you blurted out, your tone bordering on desperation. Appalled, the man fixed you with an unsettled look. “We only wish to know what you know.”
Jeonghan eyed them all carefully, eyes flitting from one body to the next. Then, he said, “It is a long story.”
Although he looked reluctant to share, with their persuasion, he started to speak.
As Jeonghan started explaining, Seungcheol was almost convinced that the man was telling them some made-up story he created in his head. It sounded absolutely ridiculous, but his description of the Pieces of Eden matched up exactly with the way you recounted it.
According to the man, before humanity existed, there was an ancient civilization called the Isu—creators of the First Civilization. The Isu had capabilities and technological advancements far beyond our imagination, and they were the ones to craft the Pieces of Eden that had now been scattered across the world, holding unfathomable power.
Jeonghan happened to be a descendent of the Isu. This was only discovered once he joined the Assassin’s Brotherhood, but he possessed the ability to sense the Pieces of Eden. The assassin, with Isu blood running in his veins, could feel the power of the artifacts when he was close. The only problem was, he couldn’t tell exactly where they would be—just a general idea.
He then drew what the Apple of Eden was supposed to appear like on the floor, using his finger to trace the circular artifact and its intricate engravings.
“Oh, it is a ball,” Soonyoung observed. “I thought it would look more, er, appetizing.”
Jeonghan gave him a strange look. “Did you believe it would be an actual apple?”
“Or… apple-shaped, I suppose. It is in the name, is it not?”
Jeonghan ignored him and went on to ask, “You are certain the Templar Order is in possession of the Apple?”
“Yes,” Seungcheol replied. “We saw it with our own eyes.”
“The odd thing is… I feel its presence here.”
“What? You feel it in this room?”
“Its presence is not as strong in this precise location, yet whenever I approach this inn, I can sense that the Apple is here. I had once thought the Templars came here in search of the artifact, but now I believe they came to ensure that none others could claim it for themselves.”
“You believe it is hidden in this inn?” you asked, distraught. “Why would they hide an object of such importance here?��
“No one would suspect an inn,” Jeonghan said, “and no matter how long I have spent looking for it—sneaking into rooms here and watching Templar Knights turn out pockets—I cannot seem to find it.”
“There must be a hidden room of some sort, then,” Seungkwan said. “It must be like finding treasure. Treasure maps only provide the general layout, never the height or depth for where the riches lay.”
A shiver ran through Seungcheol’s body as a strange, foreboding feeling came over him.
Astonished, you turned to Seungkwan with wide eyes, lips framing words that you hesitated to say for a moment. “The Apple could be above or below us.”
Now, Jeonghan’s face was hard, taking on a serious tone laced with urgency when he asked, “Is there a cellar here? Or an attic?”
“I can go ask Joshua,” Seungcheol replied. “The rest of you should check the stables or—”
“Do that, but I have something to take care of,” Jeonghan said curtly. “If you find the Apple, make sure it stays in the right hands until I return. Remember: We do not breathe a word about the Pieces of Eden to anyone else. Understood?”
“What are you going to do?”
“I want to put an end to this right away.”
They had a plan, and it was set in motion.
Alright, they sort of had a plan.
Seungcheol was scouring the tavern to find Joshua, you and Seokmin were looking around the stables, and Soonyoung and Seungkwan were checking all of the rooms. On the bright side, most of the travellers were outside for Sábado Santo (although the atmosphere was eerily quiet from the vigils), so most of the rooms were unoccupied at the moment. It just so happened to be the perfect day for them to search the inn from top to bottom. That was, if they managed to find the artifact. Seungcheol was quite disheartened that Jeonghan, the only one who knew how to pick up on the energy from the Pieces of Eden, was the one who went out on his own.
After asking Chan and several other workers about Joshua’s whereabouts, Seungcheol finally stumbled upon him in the kitchen where his friend was noting down the morning inventory. The innkeeper looked shocked to see the pirate with a heaving chest and flushed cheeks, and he raised an eyebrow in mild surprise.
“What trouble have you found yourself in now?” Joshua asked, his tone remaining lighthearted, but his expression quickly shifted once he realized that Seungcheol wasn’t pulling his leg. “What is all this about, Seungcheol?”
He cut straight to the point. “I need to know if this inn has a hidden chamber somewhere—perhaps a cellar or an attic.”
“There is a cellar, though it has not been used in ages,” Joshua told him, brows knitting together into a frown. Deep concern hung in his voice when he asked, “Why do you ask?”
“I must see it at once. Do you still have the key?”
It took Joshua a while to sift through several drawers and cupboards, searching for the old, rusted key that looked as if it was about to crumble into pieces. Seungcheol was anxious as he watched Joshua insert it in the keyhole, half-expected it to split in half, but then the innkeeper pulled open the door to the cellar with a loud creak that made the pirate swallow thickly.
“What is this about again?” Joshua held a large oil lamp to illuminate their way down the stairs, the wood under their feet creaking as they walked. The cellar smelled of mildew and something foul—as if something had died in there. He couldn’t imagine how many rodents and small animals had gotten in over the years. “If it concerns my inn, I would rather not be left in ignorance.”
At the foot of the steps, the space below opened up to a cluttered assortment of tables and books stacked on top of each other. He moved a marble paperweight to look at the stack of papers that were sitting around. Seungcheol examined some of them closely, trying to make out the handwriting in the dim light, but some of the documents were simply illegible. That was when he spotted parchment on the table with diagrams drawn in ink; most of the papers were full of scribbles and arrows pointing every which way, but there was something in particular that stood out to Seungcheol.
The Apple of Eden.
It was scrawled so messily, but once Seungcheol made out the words, he couldn’t mistake it for anything else. The drawing looked exactly as Jeonghan depicted and the same as he saw on the Templar Knight, too.
It had to be a Codex page.
Horrifyingly enough, when Seungcheol took a closer look at the mess across the desk, he came to realize that this cellar didn’t look as abandoned as he formerly thought. In fact, judging by the empty cup with dregs sitting at the bottom, someone had been here recently.
“I will explain everything soon,” Seungcheol told Joshua, albeit being completely distracted with his discovery, “but are you sure no one has—”
Just before he was about to finish his sentence, Seungcheol spotted something out of the corner of his eye. Something that made his stomach feel like a never-ending pit—falling, and falling, and falling. He could hardly move for a second, a cold wash sweeping down his back.
Draped over the head of a chair was the exact white tunic donned by the Templar Knights.
Seungcheol turned to look back at his friend, who was observing quietly from where he leaned against the wall. Slowly, the corner of Joshua’s mouth curved upward in faint amusement.
On Holy Thursday, Jesus was betrayed by his closest disciple.
On Holy Thursday, Joshua Hong was the Templar Knight that attacked him.
“How did this come to be here?” Seungcheol’s voice was oddly steady as he held up the Codex page, although he had to speak over his racing heartbeat. Something froze him in place and sent a chill down his spine. In his head, he was still hoping there was another answer to all of this, that his dear friend was simply joking around. “Tell me, Joshua.”
“Why, I placed it there myself,” was his smooth answer, shrugging as he said it.
“This was entirely your doing?”
“I confess, I never anticipated that you would ally yourself with an assassin,” he said, letting out a long-winded sigh. “It was never in my interest to turn on a friend—”
“You betrayed me,” Seungcheol interjected out of dismay. “My God. You have been feigning friendship, pretending to offer me food and shelter out of the goodness of your heart, yet all the while, you have been waiting to stab me in the back. Tell me, was it you? Were you the one who attacked us? Was it you who was present at the Alcazár?”
With that, Joshua reached behind him to pull out the small golden ball—the Apple of Eden—glowing faintly in the musty cellar. He confirmed Seungcheol’s gut feeling with a sick smile.
The pirate let out a threadbare breath.
“Does this answer your questions?”
Seungcheol’s chest swelled with fury. “How did you—”
“To be perfectly candid, it was far too easy,” he crowed. “You led the assassin directly to me, making it simple to ascertain your whereabouts. What truly surprises me, however, is that you are acting surprised right now when I so plainly revealed my intentions.”
It was a cold punch to his gut. Time slowed to a crawl as Seungcheol thought back on his conversations with Joshua. Through the haze, the innkeeper’s words pierced into his chest and straight through his beating heart.
“There must be order, if we are to make progress. Without reformation, we shall remain stagnant.”
“Bastard,” Seungcheol snarled through clenched teeth. Buried somewhere under layers of surging adrenaline and numbness was a mixture of dread and betrayal that he was sure to feel later once it sank deep in his bones.
“You can join the right cause, Seungcheol,” he said, his face devoid of mirth now. “Do you truly believe the world should remain in such a state? The Templars share the same goal as your companion; we only seek peace for everyone.”
“You wish to eliminate free will and whatever threatens the control you wish to impose,” Seungcheol spat. “You aim to strip us of our freedom. This is not the ‘peace’ you claim to desire.”
“Do you truly believe that humans will not bring the world to ruination if given free will?”
“I believe that if you will not even give them a choice, then you will never know the outcome.”
“This is for the greater good, Seungcheol. We must steer humanity in the right direction.”
“What the hell would you know about the right direction? See reason, Joshua,” he begged. “We have known each other for many years now. This is not like you. What makes you think I would ever choose anything over my own freedom?” His tone took a cold edge when he added, “What makes you any different from the scum who took my aunt’s life?”
A muscle worked in Joshua’s jaw. “Stubborn to the very end. It appears we do not see eye-to-eye, then.”
“Then, what is it? Are you in league with the King? Is that the reason those documents spoke of punishing free speech and the pursuit of knowledge?”
“In league with the King?” Joshua parroted, a look of faux sympathy crossing his face. He held up the Apple of Eden with his fingertips, almost mocking the pirate. “My dear friend, I control the King. Every decision he makes is ultimately guided by my counsel.”
Those glowing red eyes—it wasn’t a trick of the light. Everything that Seungcheol had seen was the work of Joshua’s manipulation, and the realization felt like a knife being pushed deeper inside him, inch by inch. He had to bite his tongue to keep himself from hurling curses that he knew would only make the situation worse. Seungcheol had to think. He had to pull himself together and decide what he needed to do next.
Earlier, he surrendered the artifact so easily to save your life, but now Seungcheol could only see vengeance ahead of him. He wouldn’t let this opportunity slip past his fingers again.
Without any formal preamble, Seungcheol grabbed the marble paperweight off the desk and chuckled it right at the Apple of Eden, knocking the object from where it balanced on Joshua’s fingertips.
Joshua scoffed. “What are you—”
He was cut off by Seungcheol lunging at him, predator-like, and the two men were brawling on the cold, dusty floor of the cellar. The pirate straddled his body, pinning his chest down to deliver a hard blow to his jaw. There was a high-pitched ringing in his ears that was so loud that Seungcheol could hardly process the hits Joshua was landing on him, nor could he hear his own fist colliding with the Templar Knight’s face.
Then, Seungcheol wrapped his hands around Joshua’s neck and strangled the man until he was red in the face. However, what he didn’t account for was that Joshua’s arm, which was raised over his head, had been trying to reach for the Apple of Eden that ended up rolling under a table.
Just as Seungcheol dug his nails into the tender flesh, Joshua slammed the metal ball against the pirate’s skull. Darkness curled at his vision, yet Seungcheol could still make out the knight murmuring something softly as he clutched the Apple.
Seungcheol grabbed the artifact to pry it out of Joshua’s hands, but the innkeeper didn’t look the least bit fazed throughout the struggle. Joshua used his legs to knock Seungcheol off-balance so that he was the one on top of the captain now. A malicious grin grew on the bastard’s face.
“The Guardia Real will be here soon,” he taunted, “and His Majesty. Once they find you, they will give you a punishment befitting a lowly pirate.”
“And you shall not even have a gravestone to your name,” came your voice from behind Joshua.
It all happened in a split second. You withdrew your hidden blade, jutting it in Joshua’s direction for him to dodge and grab your wrist. Seungcheol scuttled backward once Joshua’s weight wasn’t holding him down, and he looked around for something—anything—that he could use to help you out.
Oh, that was right. The cloak.
Seungcheol vividly recalled Joshua using a dagger against you that day. He slipped it back into the tunic when he had to put it away. In a haste, the pirate reached into the pockets of the tunic to pull out the dagger with the ruby-encrusted hilt.
“Assassin, Hidden One, murderer—whatever you call yourself,” Joshua sneered. “I shall see to it that your corpse rots here for—”
It was then that Seungcheol momentarily let go of all fondness for his old friend and ran forward to drive the dagger straight into Joshua’s back.
“—eternity...”
He was normal for a breath—just the one. Then, Joshua stumbled forward, shakily, and then slowly turned around to look at Seungcheol. The Apple of Eden fell from his hands, his eyes following its path before he collapsed to the ground as he tried reaching for it.
It was a pitiful sight to watch, really, but Seungcheol couldn’t tear his gaze away as Joshua clawed desperately at the artifact. This was a victory that Seungcheol couldn’t exactly celebrate because he had lost yet another friend, and it happened to be one that had been dear to his heart.
“Seungcheol,” the innkeeper pleaded in a choked voice, “help me.”
Your eyes were sympathetic when Seungcheol looked at you, and you gave him a nod as if to assure him that you would handle the rest. He turned his head just in time so that he wouldn’t have to witness you finishing off Joshua Hong with your blade.
Seungcheol only felt the passage of time start to move normally again much later; the events right after Joshua’s death were a bit of a blur, if he was going to be honest.
According to you, Jeonghan had come to find you after they all split up, confessing that he had always found Joshua to be suspicious. Apparently, he had been following the innkeeper for the past few days, but there was no reason for him to act upon that suspicion when he couldn't confirm anything. You ended up trailing Seungcheol and Joshua on your own because you couldn’t stop worrying while Jeonghan went to confirm his suspicions about a Templar Order base.
As expected, there were several Templar Knights stationed in one of the buildings Joshua frequented, so Jeonghan called the Guardia Real on them. The knights were seized on charges of conspiracy after the building was searched, but Jeonghan was banking on the cellar under The Sleeping Bull to have more incriminating evidence. Seungcheol initially saw this as a rash decision, especially when he couldn’t let the guards get their hands on the Codex page, but he remembered the documents he had stolen from the King’s study. He had just enough time to replace the evidence, handing over the Codex page to you instead.
Soonyoung, Seokmin, and Seungkwan rushed in afterward (ironically right before the Guardia Real stormed the building), and Seungcheol had never seen them so crestfallen upon discovering that Joshua was the one behind everything.
You used the Apple of Eden yourself after that, lifting whatever manipulation it had over the King, and then you made sure to hide it before His Majesty entered with his guards. They seemed rather disoriented, to be honest; earlier, they were overcome with a compulsion to go to The Sleeping Bull, and now that impulse had disappeared into thin air.
Still, they were all very shocked to see the five of them standing around Joshua’s corpse.
What an odd family reunion, Seungcheol thought as he gripped your hand tightly, but you refused to speak or lift your head.
At first, they were being threatened with charges for conspiracy and crimes against the Crown, but once His Majesty spotted the documents that Seungcheol planted, a disturbed look crossed his face. Something told him that they wouldn’t be condemned to death today.
Due to the ordeal, the five of them were escorted to the palace—not as prisoners, but as guests. Until everything got sorted out, they were shown the slightest bit of hospitality instead of a prison cell.
Seungcheol never expected to find himself in the King’s study once again with His Majesty, standing in the same place where you killed one of his guards. In fact, if he moved his foot and looked at the carpet, he could see the mark of a faded bloodstain that wouldn’t come all the way out.
You were with his three sailors in one of the large bedchambers. Soonyoung, Seokmin, and Seungkwan were immediately swayed by the plates of food that were brought out for them, but you resorted to sitting stiffly in the corner until it was time to leave.
“You killed my guard,” King Philip V started in a stern voice, yet he didn’t sound like he was angry. He now had the full story that Seungcheol broke down for him (with your affiliation with the Assassin’s Brotherhood and the Pieces of Eden left out of the picture, of course). The pirate had to convince the King that Joshua’s involvement was not the work of an ancient artifact that controlled minds. “Not only did you disrespect me by sneaking into my palace, but you killed one of my men in this very room—right where you stand.”
It was actually you who killed his guard, but Seungcheol valiantly opted to take the blame instead. He wasn’t sure how your father would handle the truth about his daughter being an assassin, and he wasn’t keen on finding out.
“To be fair, it was your guard who first attempted to take my life.”
The King let out a heavy, drawn-out sigh. “I suppose.”
He supposed? What a prick.
Unexpectedly, His Majesty’s voice softened, taking on a tamer and gentler tone that almost sounded foreign. “Is Y/N well?”
Seungcheol stared at him, stunned. “You… you remember…”
“Of course. What father could fail to recognize his own child?”
Perhaps one that abandoned her at such a young age, Seungcheol thought angrily, but he decided against vocalizing it.
“She is in good health,” Seungcheol assured, “but I do not believe she wishes to see you.”
The King sighed heavily, nodding in understanding. “That is only to be expected. A father should never forsake his child, which is why I cannot bring myself to punish you today. I have committed a transgression far greater than any that has occurred.”
“I do not believe you can undo the harm nor repair your relationship with your daughter, Your Highness, but a simple acknowledgement carries a great weight.”
“Back then, I could get everything I ever wanted, and it only cost me my precious child,” he told the pirate, “but, without her, I had nothing.”
It looked as if it hurt him to say, like a blade had slipped between his ribs as he was framing the words. And then, a sad smile crossed his face.
“Is there anything as undoing as a daughter?”
Before Seungcheol could respond, there was a loud knock at the door. His Majesty commanded the palace guard to enter, and both Seungcheol and the King were shocked to see you by the guard’s side, your eyes cast down and the Distinguished Order of the Golden Fleece in your hands.
You looked up carefully, steeling yourself. “I wish to speak with you… father.”
The Crown’s Revenge was stationed proudly at the dock, its tall mast rising high over the crimson sails that flapped against the breeze. The mainsail billowed out as the wind filled it in, and as Seungcheol stood at the foot of the gangplank, he marvelled at the vessel’s impressive size.
Following your conversation with the King, Seungcheol couldn’t exactly say there was no bad blood between you and your father anymore, but there was something brighter about your countenance now. Reuniting with him and healing old wounds must have done wonders for the grudges you held close to your heart, but you still had no intention of staying with your father and carrying out your duties as a princess.
Your heart was elsewhere—with Seungcheol, with the sea.
“She’s got more faces than a deck of cards,” Seungkwan had muttered when he found out about your royal upbringing. “Assassin, princess—what next? Pirate?”
It had not occurred to Seungkwan that you would be joining them on their voyage back to England, and when he was struck with the realization, he nearly turned over his dinner plate from his clamor. You had gotten rather close with his mates over the past few weeks, but they still harbored a fear that you could possibly murder them in cold blood whenever you wanted to.
Seungcheol thought that it was perhaps a good thing that you kept them on their toes.
As for Yoon Jeonghan, you returned the Apple of Eden to him, along with the Codex page that had been in the cellar. He left on a rather cryptic note, assuring that he would cross paths with you again, although neither of you were sure of his destination. You were adamant on leaving your life as an assassin behind, though, which meant that they would need to stop at France after sailing to England.
His Majesty offered you riches beyond imagination. He clearly didn’t know what he could give you that would make up for years of separation, but you refused all of his gifts. Seungcheol, however, had a request that he could set aside his pride to ask for. That resulted in the five of them waiting two weeks for the kingdom to grant them a ship of their own. The rest of them were mortified by the name, but Seungcheol found it absolutely hilarious that he got the King to give him a ship called The Crown’s Revenge. It was something his aunt would’ve hollered at. Anything for the King’s daughter, he supposed.
“You need not have used my idea for your ship’s name!” you exclaimed at the port, downright flustered. “I was just… I was simply—”
The pirate turned to see you with the wind blowing through your hair, a fierce look on your face. He couldn’t help but laugh—not because what you said was particularly amusing, but because he had never seen anyone look so beautiful whilst arguing.
“I did nothing of the sort,” Seungcheol said. “You named your own ship, Captain.”
Your entire body froze. “What?”
“This is a ship from your father, after all, and I believe the time has come for me to relinquish the role of captain. You have bested me more than enough times already.”
(“And now she’s a pirate, eh?” Seungkwan shook his head from where he was sitting on a crate, quietly observing all the while. “Funny how the tides turn.”
Soonyoung, however, was grinning ear-to-ear. “What are we bettin’ on next? Queen?”
“Shut it before she makes ye walk the plank,” Seokmin muttered back.)
“Choi Seungcheol,” you warned, “do not humor me.”
“You needn’t worry, mi corazón,” he told you with a gentle smile, taking the leather tricorn hat off of his head and placing it atop yours. “I have already made up my mind.”
“Cap’n!” Seungkwan called from afar, cupping his hand around his mouth to amplify the sound. You didn’t look quite sure if he was referring to you or Seungcheol until he scolded, “Try to not send us to Davy Jones’ locker in our sleep, aye?”
Your face broke into a smile. “Very well, but the blade shall remain with me!” you called back, raising your arm to show the hidden contraption that was still fixed under your sleeve.
“Well, Captain,” Seungcheol started, straightening his back and squaring his shoulders, “I am following your command. Where would you like me stationed?”
“By my side,” you said, reaching up to hold the back of his neck and letting his forehead touch yours, “is that acceptable?”
“Of course.”
He leaned in, pressing his lips against yours—a quiet hunger that was never quite satisfied with just one taste. Cupping your cheek, though, Seungcheol knew that the way your lips felt against his was more valuable than any treasure he had coveted. It was the taste of freedom.
Freedom was the wind in his face, the taste of salt in the sea, the ocean slipping through his hands like sand. In the grand scheme of things, people never truly changed across eons of history, but one thing rang true: The only way for humans to progress was to protect their freedom, to protect the freedom of others, and to rise against the resistance that threatened their freedom. Seungcheol had never been more certain of this until meeting you. It was so clear now; when he looked at the people celebrating in the streets of Sevilla, when he looked at the birds flying high in the sky, it was freedom that persisted above all.
To him, freedom was you.
#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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Assassin's Creed Masterlist
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Masterlist
Stepcest, Stepson!Coryo x Stepmother!Reader, Sub!Coriolanus, Switch!Reader, Crassus Snow x Younger!Reader
WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. Crassus Snow is a cold hearted asshole, but he's a hot asshole... Stepcest, older man/younger woman, arranged marriage, cheating, affairs, secrets, cussing, secret love child, Coryo is a bit selfish and too ambitious, Crassus decides to try and be a better husband/father, breakups
Part 8:
The backseat of the car feels like it's closing in on you as Alexios, your driver, pulls away from the curb. Your chest tightens and you feel so overwhelmed. Your emotions are getting the better of you and before you can stop it, you break down in tears. Sobs violently wrack your body as your mind keeps thinking about being betrayed by Coriolanus.
Your loud cries have a negative effect on your son, Cassian. The baby starts crying as a result of hearing your loud sobs. Cassian's wails get louder and louder as the chauffeur steers the car out of the high-end shopping district of Capitol City.
Alexios looks back at you and the baby via the rearview mirror and he can't help, but to be concerned. You're both crying and he’s not sure what to do. Should he keep driving? Should he ask if you're okay? Nothing happened that he's aware of to trigger off your crying jag. Your driver/bodyguard is inwardly panicking because he has no idea why you're having a meltdown in the back of the car. A meltdown that's causing your baby to fuss loudly as well.
Looking between the road and the rearview mirror, the driver hesitantly asks, “Mrs. Snow, are you alright?”
Hearing your baby's wailing paired with the driver's inquiry of your well being snaps you out of your tears. Your son needs you to calm him down; to soothe him, so you quickly take a deep breath and wipe the tears from your eyes. “I'm fine, Alexios. Just a bit tired and overwhelmed from shopping with the baby.” You lie to your driver while moving a shaky hand to comfort your crying son.
Alexios nods, only to assure you, “We'll be at the penthouse in a few minutes.”
You thank him while soothing your son. The rest of the ride home didn't take long; you managed to comfort Cassian and get him to calm down before the car even pulled up to the curb of your building.
“Ma’am, where would you like me to place your shopping bags?” Alexios asks while helping you and your son out of the car.
“You can put them in the master bedroom.” You told your driver as he shut the car door and popped the trunk.
Pulling Cassian's pram out of the trunk, your chauffeur told you, “I'd be more comfortable placing the bags in the foyer or the main room, Mrs. Snow.” Unfolding the pram and gesturing for you to place the baby in it, Alexios proclaimed, “The master bedroom is your husband's domain as a man, not mine.”
“Okay, then place the bags in the foyer and I'll bring them into the master bedroom once I'm done putting Cassian down for his nap.” You tell the driver while placing your son into his pram.
Once your son's settled in the pram, you wheel him over to the large double doors of your building’s lobby. The driver's right behind you, only to hold the door open for you to walk inside. As you head towards the elevator bank, Alexios goes to retrieve your endless number of shopping bags from the trunk of the car.
You feel a bit tense as you wait for the elevator to arrive. You know that you have to keep it together for your son; that you can't have another breakdown like the one you succumbed to in the car, but it's easier said than done. You feel so heartbroken, helpless, and lost. Coriolanus made you out to be a fool. He played you like a fiddle, making you believe every word he said.
But now…
Well…
Now that you caught him red handed with another woman (Livia Cardew of all people!) you know that things are over between the two of you. You can't carry on with him; put your own rocky marriage in jeopardy when Coryo doesn't truly value you or your love.
The ding of the elevator doors sliding open breaks you from your mental musings. Quickly, you wheel Cassian's pram into the elevator. And much to your surprise, your driver's right behind you with an ungodly amount of bags hanging from his limbs. In fact, he's carrying so many shopping bags that he looks like a Christmas tree covered in ornaments, garland, and tinsel.
“Are those all of my bags?” You ask, taken aback on the amount of bags being toted by Alexios.
“Yes, Mrs. Snow, these are all of your bags.” Alexios confirms while you press the buttons to close the door and for the 12th floor.
Grandma'am was still taking her afternoon nap whenever you entered the penthouse. You also realized that you're alone; that Coriolanus was still out- most likely with that Cardew shrew. Good, not like you're in the mood to deal with him right now anyways.
You parked the pram in the foyer and took Cassian out of it, all the while Alexios was setting down a pile of bags by the front door of the penthouse. You thanked your driver for his help before bringing Cassian to his nursery for a feeding and his late afternoon nap.
Cassian has a hearty appetite, so you didn't have any problems nursing him. In fact, the baby ate eagerly. He also went to sleep almost instantly after his meal. For being a couple of weeks old he truly was a good baby. Didn't fuss too much; was easy to tend to.
Once the baby was down, you brought all of the shopping bags to your master bedroom. Somehow, while unpacking the bags, you managed to hold it together. Well, you're still an emotional wreck while hanging up the clothes you bought, but at least you're not crying your eyes out anymore.
But you can't afford another crying jag, you have a baby depending on you to take care of him. You have to be strong and push your feelings of hurt and betrayal aside in order to be the best possible mother you can be to Cassian.
And when you brought the few bags full of Cassian's items to the nursery to put them away, you're tense.
Very tense.
You manage to put all of Cassian's new outfits and toys up without shedding a single tear. But, you're wound tighter than an 8 day clock tho. You're very on edge, all because of what you accidently discovered this afternoon at the coffee shop.
You can't help, but to wonder if you did something wrong to make Coriolanus seek out that bitch, Livia Cardew. Maybe you should've pushed aside your emotional discomfort and just given him a couple of blowjobs? Then maybe he'd still be faithful to you. But, if not being able to fuck fo 6 weeks is the reason why he's cheating then maybe the relationship’s fickle; wasn't as strong and loving on his end- like he claims it to be.
You're broken out of your thoughts by Grandma'am’s voice echoing out in the penthouse with the simple question of, “Y/N, dear, are you home?”
“Yes, Grandma'am, I'm home. I'm just finishing up putting Cassian's things away.” You call back, assuring your mother-in-law that you're fine.
“I'll be waiting for you in the main room, dear.” Grandma'am told you, so you wouldn't be searching the entire house for her.
And a few minutes later you walk into the main room with a hatbox in your hands. “I got you something, Grandma'am.” You announce, coming up to the elderly woman that's become more of a mother to you then your own mother.
“Oh, Y/N, you didn't have to do that.” Grandma'am lightly protested with a soft smile as you placed the hatbox onto her lap.
Taking a seat next to her, you explain, “I know, but I wanted to get you something as a thank you for being supportive during my pregnancy and baby blues.”
Nodding, she lifts the lid of the box. She lets out a tiny gasp upon seeing a gold satin turban with a gold and diamond sun broach in the middle twisted part. Pulling the beautiful turban out of the box, she gratefully smiles, “Thank you, dear. It's beautiful and I can't wait to wear it.”
“I was hoping that you'd like it.” You admitted to Grandma'am as she placed the turban back in the box; setting it aside.
“Did you get something for Crassus?”
Of course she'd ask you that…
With a sigh, you shake your head and admit, “No, I didn't know what to get him.”
Grandma'am pats your hand while assuring you, “Next time we'll go shopping together; find something real nice for that son of mine you call your husband.”
You smile and nod, silently thanking her.
Crassus came home about 15 minutes before dinner, as was his routine now, and took a seat in the living room with you. Grandma'am, like she does every night, excused herself to go inquire about dinner from the cook. She did that every night when Crassus arrived in order to give you, him, and the baby some family time.
Coriolanus came home about an hour earlier and went straight to his room after giving both you and Grandma'am a curt greeting. In fact, you're dreading having to eat dinner with him tonight. A part of you wishes that he didn't come home at all, that he stayed out. But, of course, that wish went unfulfilled.
Anyways, once Crassus was sitting with you in the main room he went about the routine he created for the two of you. He asked about your day while watching Cassian nearby in his baby swing. And, of course, you told your husband about your shopping trip with the baby. But you left out the part about running into Coriolanus at the coffee shop, he didn't need to know about that.
Crassus thought that an afternoon shopping would've made you a bit happier than you were. He noticed that you're a bit tense; it's concerning because you seemed to be in a good mood lately. He decides that he'll ask your driver if you ran into anyone or if anything happened while on your shopping trip.
“Perhaps next time you go shopping mother can go with you?” Crassus suggested while subtly eying the clock to see if it was close to dinner time yet.
“Oh, I already talked to her about it and we agreed that we'll go shopping together with Cassian next time.” You tell Crassus, earning an approving smile from him.
“I’m glad that you're getting along with mother, Petal.” Crassus admitted right as Coriolanus walked out of the hallway and into the main room with a pissy look painted on his face.
“Is dinner ready yet?” Coriolanus asked, his eyes narrowed at how close you're sitting with his father. Hmm…seems like he's jealous? But he doesn't have a right to be since he has Livia now.
“Grandma'am went to check a few moments ago.” You told your once lover, tone a bit tight.
“Sit down and wait, Coriolanus. It won't be much longer now.” Crassus ordered his firstborn.
“It better not be, father. I have a study group to attend in half an hour.” Coriolanus grumbled while taking a seat. One as far away from you and his father as he could be.
“Isn't that a bit late for a study group, son?” Crassus asked, his blonde brow arched up.
Yes, wasn't it? Well, the study group was actually a meet up with Festus and Hilarious at Pluribus’ club, but Crassus and you didn't need to know that. Coriolanus feels that you two thinking he's at a study group makes himself look better and more mature. That if you knew he had time for the club and not for you, well…But you can't blame him, he's a young man with needs. Needs that you're not fulfilling at the moment.
Coriolanus never was a choirboy and is only loyal to one person, himself.
“I'm meeting up with Festus and Hilarious to study for our finals. We decided to meet up after dinner since everyone has different schedules.”
“Ah…” Crassus nods. “Since when do the three of you have such taxing schedules?” Your husband countered your stepson, causing the younger blonde to look like he's about to swallow his teeth.
But before Coriolanus could reply, Grandma'am strolls into the room with the announcement of, “The cook’s ready to serve dinner.”
Well, looks like dinner saved Coriolanus from having to pull a believable lie out of his ass.
Dinner was quiet, but tense. Crassus picked it up right away that you seem upset about something. Also, the way that Coriolanus keeps giving you hard glances here and there makes him believe that something's wrong. That something happened.
The war hero truly believes that something transpired between you and his son. Why else would Coriolanus be eying you with a hardness in his baby blues? Any other time his son's giving you pathetic puppy dog eyes. But not tonight.
Grandma'am’s eating her roasted chicken while ignoring the awkward silence in the dining room. You don't get to be her age without learning to ignore a thing or two, including awkwardness at meals. As long as the uncomfortable silence doesn't turn into an argument that'll ruin her dinner, Grandma'am is totally fine with eating and ignoring the big elephant in the room.
Crassus on the other hand isn't the type to ignore the big elephant in the room. Unlike his mother, he's not putting a doily on the elephant in the room’s butt and acting like it's not there. No, the general's going to approach it.
Turning his attention to you, Crassus asks, “Is something wrong, Petal? You seem a bit tense.”
“Oh, nothing's wrong. Really, I'm fine, just a bit tired from shopping this afternoon.” You lie because you can't tell your husband the truth. No, he'd never understand that you're tense and agitated because you caught his son, who you've been having an affair with, cheating on you while out at a coffee shop. Yea…that'd go over like a lead balloon…
“Alright, as long as you're fine I won't pry.” Crassus told you despite every fiber of his being begging him to pry.
But he'll drop the matter for now, only because he senses that you're not comfortable speaking about it- or should he say around his son. Crassus decides that he'll ask your driver, Alexios, about your outting tomorrow. Surely your driver/bodyguard has an insight on what's troubling you. And if not, well…he doesn't want to think about that possibility.
Coriolanus' icy eyes dart over to your form, gazing at you harshly. Almost as if he's silently daring you to bring up the subject of him being rather cozy with Livia Cardew in the local coffee shop. It's as if he wants you to acknowledge your pain, your broken heart at seeing him with somebody else, at the dinner table; in front of his father, Crassus. But you won't give him the satisfaction. In fact, you refuse to meet his gaze and opt to stare down at your plate instead.
Crassus noticed how his son's hard glances at you are making you nervous; are causing you to stare at your plate while picking at your food with your tightly clenched fork. He doesn't like what these tiny details are implying. How they're making light of a pressing suspicion he's had about Coriolanus and you for a while now.
Looking at his gold Rolex on his wrist, Crassus pretends to be concerned about his son's plans. “Coriolanus, shouldn't you be going soon?” Looking at his younger doppelganger, he says, “You don't want to be late for your study group, do you?”
Looking down at his own wrist watch, Coriolanus nods. “Yes, I should get going.” Putting his fork down, he apologizes properly for his sudden departure with a charming, “I'm so sorry to be rushing off in the middle of our meal, but I have a study group with Festus Creed and Hilarious Heavensbee that's due to start soon and I don't want to be late.”
“Oh, Coriolanus, don't you worry. You go on and tend to your studies.” Grandma'am said in a tone that showed she was proud of her grandson's studious nature. If only she knew the truth about his ‘study group'.
“Don't stay out too late studying, Coriolanus.” Crassus told his son as the younger blonde stood from the table. It was evident in the stern, deep tone of his voice that Crassus' remark had a double meaning to it.
Coriolanus clearly picked up on the double edged sword that was his father's words. So much so, that he just nodded as scurried off. Secretly, Coriolanus feared that his father had figured out that he was hanging out at the club; would tell you about it. That's the last thing he wants you to know. It's bad enough that you accidentally stumbled upon him and Livia on a coffee date, but if you found out about his clubbing…well…
Coriolanus fears that he won't be able to successfully lie his way out of that. No, not with you acting all out of sorts lately.
But does that slight fear stop him from taking off to meet up with Festus and Hilarious? No, no it doesn't.
While Coriolanus was living it up at the club with his friends, Festus and Hilarious, you were at home spending a quiet evening with Grandma'am, Crassus, and Cassian. You played a couple hands of gin rummy with Grandma'am before going to the nursery to check on the baby. And once Grandma'am retired to bed, you spent some time with your husband.
It wasn't much, just watching some talent show on CapitolTV and then the news before heading to bed. The atmosphere was quiet, but heavy between you and Crassus as you got ready for bed. He didn't bring it up, knowing you'd probably wave off his inquiry, but it did bother him.
Crassus thought that he was making progress with you; that he was making you happy. But now…well…he's not sure anymore. You seem to be tense and weighed down by something. Something that wasn't bothering you before and he doesn't like it.
He walks out of the large walk-in closet, donning his navy silk pajamas, and makes his way to your shared bed. He gets into it only to wait for you to emerge from your side of the closet. And when you do walk out of it, Crassus can't help, but to notice how motherhood has matured you- has given you softer curves and fuller breasts. He notices that, although you're so much younger then him, you have a womanly glow about you as your silky nightgown hugs your body in all the right places.
How has he never noticed this before? Was he truly so wrapped up in work, stuck in his own head, that he never noticed the beauty that you, his wife, truly is? Crassus prides himself on being a calculated and tactful man, but it seems when it comes to you he's anything but.
You don't notice your husband's icy blue eyes melting as they follow your every move while you cross the room, taking your silk robe that matches your nightgown to drape over your vanity bench- something you do every night in order to easily grab it whenever you need to leave the room to check on the baby, etc. But why would you notice the way Crassus is looking at you; that it's different then every other night? Softness isn't something that's easily found between you and your husband. The fact that he's starting to feel something for you doesn't register to you, but why would it? It's not like he's ever made any intentions of wanting more than a surface level marriage.
“Come to bed, Petal.” Crassus orders, folding over your side of the duvet for you.
Turning away from your vanity, you simply tell him, “I'll be right there, Crassus.”
Your husband watches you as you make your way over to bed. His eyes roam over your body as the bed dips slightly while you get into it. As he does every night, he gives you a lingering peck on the lips while saying, “Goodnight, Y/N.”
“Goodnight, Crassus.” You reply, as soon as the kiss ends, before laying down and pulling the duvet up around your shoulders.
You feel your husband settle next to you, only for him to switch off the lamp on his bedside table; engulfing the room in darkness. You stare at the wall in the dark, listening to your husband's breathing grow shallow as he falls asleep. Crassus is a light sleeper, but he usually falls asleep rather quickly.
You're secretly waiting for the sound of the front door opening paired with the faint echo of Coriolanus’ Florsheims clunking against the floor because you need to confront him about what you saw in the coffee shop this afternoon. You can't let it go. You need to tell him how you feel. You need…closure.
You're not sure how long you've been staring at the wall in the dark for whenever you finally hear Coryo get in. Your breath hitches and your heart seizes tightly in your chest. It's finally time to confront your stepson.
You gingerly pull aside your blanket and slowly rise from the bed, careful not to wake your husband. You look over your shoulder, seeing that Crassus is still asleep, before rushing to grab your rob from your vanity bench. Quickly, you toss it on and leave your master bedroom.
Your bare feet patter against the marble floor as you make your way down the hallway towards Coriolanus' room. When you reach it, you don't even knock- just open the door and walk right in.
You're met with the sight of a disheveled Coriolanus. His button up shirt's a bit wrinkled, fly of his pants is undone, his pale skin’s flushed, platinum blonde curls are messy, and his baby blues slightly glassy. Clearly, he wasn't out studying. The faint smell of liquor, posca to be precise, emitting from his pores is proof that he was out at the club with Festus and Hilarious instead of at a study group with the boys.
Seeing you standing before him in his room in your robe and nightgown brings a cocky, lustful grin to his face. Coriolanus feels like the cat that got the cream, seeing you enter his room right after he got home proves to him that you've been up all night waiting for him. That you still want him; need him.
But Coriolanus is wrong about that. So very very wrong.
You keep a considerable distance between you and the younger Snow while announcing, “We need to talk, Coriolanus.”
“Oh, mommy, we both know you didn't come here just to ‘talk’.” Coriolanus coos, moving to close the distance between you.
You back away from him before his outstretched hand can touch you, causing a frown to form on his face. But before he can ask what's wrong, you bombard him with the reason why you came. The million dollar question of, “How long have you been cheating on me with Livia Cardew for, Coriolanus?”
Coriolanus blanched, as if you just threw a pot of boiling hot water in his face. How dare you ask him that? He's declared his love for you, hasn't he? Cemented it by giving you his child, right? So, shouldn't you be lovingly opening your arms for him; taking care of his needs? You shouldn't be asking him about Livia Cardew, it's not your place to ask.
Oh, and he's going to let you know that too.
Coriolanus’ brows furrow deeply as he sharply tells you, “Don't worry about Livia Cardew, she's nothing to you, mommy.”
“I'm not stupid, Coriolanus. I have eyeballs, I saw you two pawing all over each other at Sweet Brew.”
“We weren't pawing all over each other, we were studying for a class.”
“Oh, so is that what you call your dates and outings these days? Studying?” You sarcastically asked him. Shaking your head, you scoff, “I heard what you said to her, Coriolanus. You called her ‘my darling’.”
“Y/N, I think you're overreacting-” Coriolanus began to say, only for you to cut him off with a frantic, “I'm not overreacting. You're cheating on me and I'm done.”, while angrily waving your hands in the air.
A scowl crossed the blonde's face. “What do you mean you're done?”
Did he really just ask you that?
Folding your arms over your chest, you give him the answer of, “You're cheating on me with that bitch, Livia, so we're over.”
“Livia means nothing to me, but you do, mommy. We can't be over.”
“We're over and done, Coriolanus.”
“And what? You think my father suddenly cares about you-” Flinging his arm in the general direction of the nursery, Coriolanus barks, “about Cassian?” His cerulean eyes turned into dark soulless stones as he snarled, “My father will never care about, let alone love you and the baby. He's just bored; amusing himself by toying with you. But he'll grow tired of it; go back to ignoring you.” His lush lips curled up cruelly as he added in, “And he'll do it to our son too.”
Coriolanus' words cut deep. They also wound your already fragile soul. But if that wasn't enough, the final blow to your shattered heart was when he told you in a sickeningly sweet, syrupy tone, “When my father tosses you aside like trash you'll be crawling back to me on your knees, begging me for a crumb of attention.” His face, once so angelic, morphs into an unreadable mask as he taunts, “But I don't know if I'll take pity on you, the mother of my child: my son, when that day comes.” A dark chuckle sounds deep in the back of his throat. “You say you're done with me because of what you think you saw between Livia Cardew and I, so I'm not sure if I'll be able to be a fool in love for you once again when the time comes that you realize your mistake in choosing my father over me.”
Hot, salty tears are rolling down your cheeks profusely. His cruel words has you crying so badly that your vision's blurry. How can Coriolanus claim to love you, but turn around and act like this? Say such hurtful things?
“Stop crying, Y/N.” Coriolanus snaps out in frustration. “All you ever do anymore is cry. I'm quite sick of it.”
Hastily wiping your tears away with your hands, you tell him, “I'm sorry you're sick of my crying, but I can't help it.” You feel as if you need to leave, as if you'll suffocate if you stay in the room with him any longer. Taking a few calming breaths, you say, “I'm done, Coriolanus. I hope you treat Livia better than me.”, before rushing out of the room.
You're lucky that the argument between you and Coriolanus didn't echo throughout the hallway, waking Crassus and Cassian- who are both light sleepers. But, when you return to your master bedroom and get back into bed, your movements stir your husband. He groggily asks about the baby and you assure him that everything’s fine; to go back to sleep.
But everything's not fine. No, right now you're suffering from a broken heart. First love and first heartbreaks sure do have a way of draining the life out of somebody's soul, that's for sure.
Your husband doesn't need to know that though. The less Crassus knows of your shame the better.
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Harpy Alexios
You waited outside for Alexios and Kassandra. He wanted to introduce her to you today. He talked about her all the time, and besides, she was the only family he had left. You only knew Kassandra from photos and his stories.
You wondered if she would be similar in personality to Alexios or completely different. You haven't made a picture of her yet.
You were so lost in thought when something grabbed your hands from the air and lifted you into the air. You went out in shock and tried to get back to the ground.
However, when you were so high that you could see the roofs of the houses, you stopped trying to reach them and instead grabbed whatever carried you.
You wondered to him what was bothering you in the first place. To your surprise, it was a woman with a brown braid, eagle wings and talons holding you.
“Kassandra?” you asked surprisingly since it was an exact copy of the photo Alexios was showing you. She just smiled at you before rocking you and letting you go.
You free-fall to the ground. You screamed for your life. Just above the first roof, however, Kassandra caught you and carried you up again.
"Put me down!" you screamed as she let go of you again. You only saw her laugh before she let go of you again.
You had no idea how long she had been playing with you like this because, after the third time she let you go, you started to feel so sick that you didn't know how long you could last.
"Kassandra!" you heard a familiar voice that gave you hope.
Kassandra let go of you again and you saw Alexios flying towards you. Truth be told, it didn't even seem weird at that point. You were just glad to see him and hoped he would save you.
When Alexios was close to you, Kassandra grabbed you and flew right in front of his nose. He was chasing his sister and calling her something in Greek. You only understood a maláka.
This had been happening for a while and you had the impression that Kassandra was playing catch with her brother. Whenever he was close to you, she suddenly changed direction.
"Kassandra, put her down!" he yelled at her and it looked like he was finally going to catch up with you.
“As you wish,” she shrugged before letting you go. You had no idea how long you had been freefalling to the ground. But this time, Kassandra didn't fly to you. Surely you were headed for the ground and there was a risk of impact.
You still saw Kassandra hovering in one place when someone saved you from falling. He caught you at a fast speed that almost took your breath away.
It wasn't until you recovered that it was Alexios. You breathed a sigh of relief and hugged him. You felt him lightly caress your back with one hand. Once he reduced his speed enough, he landed on the ground with you.
“You're safe now,” he said, lowering you carefully to the ground. It was such a strange feeling after so many falls that your legs immediately gave way. That's why he preferred to hold you.
“I hate your sister,” you mumbled as you absorbed a bit of the shock. Alexios chuckled at that. Right now, he'd rather kill her himself.
“I'm glad you saved me,” you thanked him as his sister landed next to you.
"She's not bad for a human. She's fun to be with,” she said and moved closer to you. Or at least she thought so, as Alexios covered you with his wing.
“We'd better go home,” Alexios finally said and before you could protest, he took you into his arms.
“Thank you,” you said, kissing his cheek. Alexios stopped and looked at you before a faint smile appeared on his face and he kissed your forehead.
“Anytime,” he replied before kissing your lips once more.
Assassin's Creed Masterlist
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I forgot Alexios!! 😅
Baths with him would be long, intimate, full of sneaky sudsy kisses and touches and an adamant refusal that you leave his warm arms
bubbles with babe
A/N - based off a previous two scenarios here
I tried getting as many as I could or however many the tags would let me 😅
Summary: bath and relaxing headcanons 🥰
Altair - he insists you always bathe with him, washing your hair calms him down
Elise - wants to spoil and lavish you entirely, loves massages too
Desmond - a whole cutie pie who refuses to leave the tub and just loves a few sudsy cuddles
Bayek - presses tiny kisses into your shoulder as he weaves his fingers through your hair
Ezio - oh he’s shameless in spoiling you with all the bubbles!
Evie - a “guilty pleasure” she feels no guilt in because spending time with you is always a pleasure
Edward - cheeky in spending more time in the tub with you than getting anything done
Malik - he won’t admit it but he does enjoy how your spoil him and remind him to take breaks
Jacob - sure he MAY spoil you but he’s also so needy with your time and likes when you suds him up as well
Maria 🗡️- a reminder that she needs to take time for herself, particularly likes shoulder massages
Aya - jasmine and other floral scents fill the tub as you laugh and reconvene with each other
Haytham - he’s one relaxing session away from collapsing into your arms and the suds, loves a good scalp massage
Shay - likes when you wash his hair and offers to wash yours as well
Yusuf - you can’t leave yet unless he says so, just be prepared for bubbly cuddles and some face masks
Aveline - she likes a hot stone massage and maybe some lavender oil for a bath
Ziio - the temple run when you wash her hair is the most relaxing
Eivor - a bit of a spa day get away and tons of steam rooms that leave you both refreshed
Connor/Ratonhnhake:ton - he loves how you just melt into his touches and when you rub his back as well
Arno - a lil romantic who draws all the bubbles and oils for hours of relaxation
Henry/Jayadeep - he’s a sweetie who gushes about anything with you, neck and back rubs are a must
Kassandra - spa days are a must for you and her
Bonus
Shaun Hastings is a man of business who sometimes forgets to relax so relaxing baths are way of reminding him he deserves TLC
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