#Alexios Fanfiction | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

author-morgan · 2 years

Text

Title: Persuasion Pairing: m!Eivor x fem!Reader x Alexios Rating: M Summary: It takes both Eivor and Alexios to convince you to join them on their summer raid to England. Blame @mrsragnarlodbrok for this filth. ❤️

THE WATER IS warm and relaxing after a long day’s hunt, but the reprieve is interrupted by a messenger from the south named Ragn. He brings word from Eivor Wolfsmal —a summons to meet and discuss plans for the summer raiding season. The arrival of the raids means good plunder for those who partake, but for your people, it means the time to start planting rocky fields and making stores for the next winter is nigh approaching too.

There is a reason your people have not gone a viking in so long —the winters are growing longer and colder, and you cannot risk losing the menfolk, else everyone starve. But Ragn tells you Eivor has set his sights to the west, to the foretold riches of East Anglia and beyond. You thank him for the message and sink further into the cooling water before calling for one of the members of your vanguard, asking her to call upon your bannermen to prepare for departure. At dawn, you will travel south and meet Eivor of the Raven Clan’s call —for old time’s sake, if nothing else.

It is not an overly long journey south, nor is it a short one traveling across rocky crags and rushing streams. It takes nigh two moons before you can see the walls of Eivor’s settlement rising on the horizon —guarding the dark and frigid waters of the fjord beyond. Horns sound to announce the arrival, and Eivor rides out to meet you and your traveling party. People have trickled in for the last fortnight, and you are among the last to arrive —the one he’s wanted to see the most.

He dismounts his white mare as you slide from the back of your mount too and approaches you with welcome arms and warmth in his smile. The years have not changed him. He is still handsome and kindly as ever. He embraces you, a quick greeting between old friends. “Welcome,” Eivor says, then he spares a moment to look you over from head to toe. He feels as though time has not been as gentle to him as it has to you. “You look well,” he remarks.

You reach out, resting a hand on his scarred cheek, and smile up at him. “As do you.” Eivor covers your hand with his own, fingers curling around yours. He pulls your hand from his cheek and places a quick kiss on your knuckle. You ride at Eivor’s side, your traveling party trailing along, single file with the wagons at the head through the streets, stopping at the heart of the settlement before the great hall. Dismounting, you look around at the wood and stone buildings, noting how much the once small harbor has grown in recent years.

“Come with me,” Eivor says, motioning for you to follow him through the muddy streets to the harbor. You wave to your bannermen, and they disperse among the barracks and market —offloading crates and barrels of goods from wagons and carts for trade. Horns sound again, marking the arrival of three longships bearing white sails with a dark eagle clutching a serpent in its talons. The last of those who Eivor summoned for the meeting.

A man wearing pale brown leathers, a mantle of grey fur, and blue wool disembarks from the arriving longship, drawing back his hood. Most of the gathered Jarls you are familiar with, but this is a new and strange face. One who does not belong so far north. His dark hair is matted into locks shorn at his shoulders and adorned with golden beads —his skin is sun-kissed, and his eyes dark. Eivor approaches the man on the wharf, and they both size each other up in a moment of tense silence. The façade quickly breaks with Eivor’s laugh. “Alexios!” He greets.

Alexios clasps Eivor on the shoulder, smiling. “It has been too long, my friend,” he remarks —dark gaze straying to where you wait beneath an arch of wood and stone. But curiosities can be slaked later; for now, it is time to prepare for the feast.

NINE OF THE eleven Jarls who have answered the call retire for the evening. Their absence leaves you sitting between Eivor and Alexios at the table strewn with overturned cups and empty plates —still unconvinced it’s in your people’s best interests to join the summer raids of an all but unknown land. Too much is at stake for you to carelessly venture west.

“You’ve yet to persuade me, Wolf-kissed,” you note, setting aside your cup. The promise of riches alone is not enough to send men to an early grave. “I have my people I must care for and women and children who will lose their husbands and fathers.” Where others could make do with the absence of menfolk during the warm months, your clan could not —only a handful of men joined the raids each year. Every person contributed to the survival of the whole so far north. “Our winters are longer than yours here in the south,” you remind him.

Alexios regards you carefully, a smile tugging at his lips. He’s not said much this evening, but his dark eyes have been busy —watching. He sees a strong will, a sharp wit, and a gentle heart. The makings of a leader loved by the masses. That’s without considering the respect you commanded from the others who have seen more summers than you. He has to admire that after encountering so many weak-willed leaders in his years.

“Perhaps another drink will help ease your worries,” Eivor says, pouring a fresh cup of mead and sliding it across the table for you to take. Even drunk, you do not think you’d willingly throw away so many lives for the spoils of the summer raids. He’s adamant, though. “I know there are riches and fertile land to the west,” Eivor tells you. “You need not endure the harsh winters if your people can call Anglia home.”

“It’s true,” Alexios supplements, “I’ve been there before.” He has wandered around the world for centuries and knows Eivor and others speak the truth about the land once named Britannia. “Thick forests and rolling green hills as far as the eye can see.” It sounds too good to be true —like a dream. “You see,” Alexios continues, “the true riches lie not in gold or silver, but the fertile earth. There’s more than enough land for your people to make a new home,” he tells you.

“Still,” you say, looking between the two men flanking your sides, “I shall have to think on it.” It is no small thing to ask that you uproot your people on a whim for an uncertain future in a strange land, but perhaps you could join them to see this land and its riches for yourself. Though, it is still something that must be considered without the strong mead fogging your senses.

Alexios leans forward, crossing his arms on the table. He looks past you to Eivor —who seems to be in the same mindset as him. He’s certainly not immune to the charms of a woman such as you, and neither is Eivor, considering the looks he’s shared with you over the course of the evening. “Perhaps we can convince you to join us,” he says, voice gruffer than just moments before.

Eyes flitting between both men, you catch onto the game they’re playing. You’re not one to shy away from such games, and it’s an easy choice to decide to play along with whatever they might be scheming. “And how will you do that?” You challenge, lifting a brow.

“Do you know how to wield a spear?” Alexios asks —you catch the double meaning of his question easily enough. Had any other Jarl asked such a thing, you’d have emptied your cup over their head, but there’s a certain allure and charm to Alexios with his sharp features and tawny-gold eyes.

“I do,” you answer, letting another sip of mead wash away what little inhibitions are left for the evening. “I can skewer a boar and bring a man to his knees,” you note. Eivor knows you can do both with ease —he’s seen you hunt before, knows what it’s like to have you writhing as he fucks you.

“How about you, Alexios? Can you wield a spear?” You query, lifting your cup to hide a bold and enticing smile. He moves as soon as you set your cup on the table, drawing you into his lap, hands instantly finding the ties of your soft gambeson and the pale tunic below —as though he’s been waiting for this moment since first setting eyes on you hours prior. The gambeson slips to the floor, and you rid yourself of the thin tunic without care. His lips are warm and soft against yours when he kisses you, palms pressing flat against your breasts.

He leans down, mouth latching onto your neck with a gentle bite that makes you gasp. Alexios moves down your chest until his lips wrap around one taut nipple, his tongue swirling around the bud and drawing a moan from your traitorous lips. You feel him smile against you —the press of his teeth against your chest in a broad grin. You catch Eivor’s gaze, and the color on his cheeks as your hands trail down Alexios’s chest —you can feel the firm muscles in his abdomen beneath your hands and his half-hard cock pressing into your thigh. He offers no resistance when you start unlacing the ties of his pants.

His cock is thick, heavy, and hot in your hand as you wrap your fingers around him —feeling each rigid vein. You can’t help but imagine the feel of them dragging along your walls as he fucks you. Your cunt tightens at the thought —a shiver crawls down your spine, and warmth pools in your belly. What you’d give to mount him like a stallion —you can already feel the aching burn of him stretching you open. But for now, you’ll settle for this. Alexios’s head tips back. The muscles in his neck tense. You lean into him, lips dragging along his jawline, and when he groans, it reverberates through you both. His breath stutters as you start slow. A teasing, languid pace —letting your entire hand explore him.

Eivor shifts in his chair —you can feel the heat of his stare without sparing him a glance. “You’re awfully quiet, Eivor,” you muse, still peppering kisses along Alexios’s neck and letting his calloused hands explore what skin they can. “Still not over that night?” You tease, breath catching when Alexios nips at your collarbone —the scruff of his beard leaving a burning trail that his tongue soothes. “Must’ve been, what? Four years ago, now?” Eivor does not answer. He won’t give you the satisfaction of knowing how many times the thought of you has kept him warm at night.

Your gaze drops to Alexios’s cock as you give him another long stroke from base to tip. Flushed, thick, and throbbing against your skin. You stop holding back —hand moving faster and wrist twisting on each upstroke— and Alexios cannot restrain himself any longer. He feels a fool for coming undone so quickly, but there’s magic in your touch, especially after a long voyage at sea.

“Is this any way to treat your host?” Eivor japes, and you can hear the bitter jealously in his voice as he watches. “Casting him aside to watch?”

“Come now, Eivor,” you chide. “You’ll have your fun later.” The way you say it, taunting and teasing with your hand wrapped around another man’s cock makes this all seem like a competition. If it is, at least it is a game where you will all be victorious.

“Is this not part of the sacred guest-rights?” Alexios asks, his voice half-strangled from how your hand works his cock but amused too. His body arches into you, pulling you against him, and his lips part as he moans unabashedly. It isn’t loud, but it is guttural and desperate, and it makes your core ache with want. Your hand doesn’t stop working him even as he spills himself over your fingers, drawing out his orgasm for as long as you can until you slow to a stop, and he begins to relax —catching his breath.

But he’s quick to begin taking what he wants. Alexios kisses your neck, moving down your body —the rough pads of fingers trailing along your sides, but it’s not enough. He needs more, wants more, and it’s impulse and desire when he sweeps his arms out, knocking the plates and cups in front of him to the floor. Alexios lifts you from his lap onto the edge of the table —hurriedly pulling at the ties of your britches as you toe off your boots.

Eivor inhales sharply, seeing you bare and splayed out on the table. His tongue darts out to dampen his lips. Memory reminds him of how sweet you tasted and how prettily you’d moaned for him, and he can barely stand the thought of not being the one between your thighs.

Alexios slinks down to look upon his second meal —eager to devour. You feel the stubble of his jaw tickle the crest of one hip and then the other before feeling his breath against your aching center. He kisses the inside of each thigh, then suckles and bites a mark in the same place on each side, laving over the little marks with his tongue. Alexios does not know what will come of this night, though he will leave a lasting impression on you to remember him by for the coming days —and maybe have you coming back to warm his bed on these cold northern nights.

He nuzzles his face against your cunt, inhaling the heady scent —drunk off the smell— and Alexios wrenches an incredulous noise from your throat when his tongue darts out, licking a flat stripe over you, stopping to circle your clit. He repeats the action thrice over, each time adding more pressure —devouring your cunt with attention like a man supping on his last meal, and he will be sure to have his fill. Reaching down, you twine your hands into his dark hair, and he peers up, dark eyes almost black with desire but still shining gold in the firelight. It’s easy to forget you and Alexios are not alone.

His tongue and mouth are insistent but soft, warm, and wet —a practiced lover— and he groans in delight against you when he feels your hips rise from the table and start to roll against his tongue. Alexios thinks himself a simple devotee worshipping at the altar of a goddess.

Every time you make a new noise, it just makes him more voracious —makes his cock stir again, but right now is about you and he’s determined not to stop until you’re shaking. He loops his arms under your thighs and moves his fingers to spread you open farther —letting his thumbs rub up and down your folds, gathering the slick. Then he eases one finger into your cunt, curling, and stroking, then adds a second. It’s devastating —the gentle pressure with each flick of his tongue on your clit— your breath comes in short gasps, chest heaving until it all erupts in slow sparks and smoldering flames.

It's the plummet of a longship’s prowl after cresting a wave when gravity takes its full force. The slow build of heat low in your belly takes to flames fanned by bellows. Alexios curls his fingers just right and feels your body tighten and seize. Your back arches off the tabletop and your ragged cry of ecstasy fill the room as you quiver.

Alexios raises his head, lips and chin glistening in the low light of the empty mead hall. He eases you down, hands stroking the insides of your thighs, and his lips find the skin below your navel before he draws you off the table and back into his lap. You tremble still when he drags the scruff of his jaw over your breasts and clavicles —promptly burying his face into your neck and listening as your heartbeat slows.

Fingers threading into Alexios’s matted locks, you glance at Eivor —his eyes are dark and filled with lust. His breathing is quicker and more labored than it had been during the feast too. Eivor splays his legs open, and you can see the outline of his hard cock through the wool of his britches. You smile for him —knowing it drives him to insanity and jealousy to see you like this because of another man. Alexios’s rough hands slide over your sides and around to your backside, pulling you down and forward against him —so you can feel his cock twitch back to life. A promise the night is not over yet.

But Eivor’s patience has run dry, and he will resign to being a bystander no longer. Rising from his seat, Eivor steps to you and Alexios, tugging your hair and forcing you to look up at him. He cranes down close to your ear and smirks. “My turn,” he rasps, pulling you off Alexios’s lap before scooping you up and over his shoulder and parading through the Great Hall toward his chambers. “Come, my friend,” Eivor calls back to Alexios, “guest-rights would have you take her cunt first.”

Anticipation burns low in your belly as Eivor pushes open the door to his room. Alexios trails a few steps behind —cock half-hanging out of the untied laces of his britches— his hands already fumbling with the ties of his tunic. Then Eivor lets you down from his shoulder and seizes your face in his hands, lips finding yours with burning lust and consuming passion.

You break away, breathless, and start to slide your hands beneath the hem of his tunic, pushing up the coarse crimson wool until he finally rids himself of it. Then your lips trail effortlessly along his heated flesh as you kiss your way from his scarred neck down his chest, then to his stomach, ghosting over the familiar blue-black ink of the runic tattoos accenting his middle. They’re a shade or two lighter than when you last saw him like this.

“Didn’t I tell you you’d have your fun later?” You muse, stopping just below his navel where a trail of hair a shade darker than that on his head begins. His response is a breathy groan as you continue down the path you’d started, falling to your knees in front of him, alas. His hands tangle in your hair as he moans quietly for you, feeling the blood rush as your breath trails dangerously close to the swell of his still-clothed cock.

His jaw clenches in frustration when you slow down, working the ties of his britches. You push the soft leather down his thighs, letting his cock fall free —hard, heavy, and weeping with want. Eivor steps out of his britches, and you press a to kiss his inner thigh, feeling the muscle twitch in anticipation. You kiss his inner thigh and feel the muscle twitch in anticipation. His fingers brush over your jaw, and your lips part to run your tongue across the length of his cock.

You look up at him before circling the head of his cock with your tongue, and he growls, running a hand through your hair affectionately. Your thighs squeeze together, knowing how much he wants your attention makes you feel flushed and warm in the best way. You give him a small smile before you open wider to take the head between your lips and are rewarded with his pleased sigh.

He hisses as he watches his cock disappear into your mouth —can feel the wet of your tongue lapping at him when you hollow your cheeks in. Your eyes are fixed on him, firing with lust as you watch him slowly fall into a haze. His brows furrow, his eyes slip shut, and his mouth parts from the sudden peak of pleasure. He doesn’t expect you to stop so suddenly, though. The aching emptiness between your thighs is enough to drive you mad. You look back at Alexios —he’s bare as you are now, his clothes tossed in a heap at the door, and he’s stroking his cock as he watches.

Rising from your knees, you press your hand to the center of Eivor’s chest, pushing him back toward the bed. He goes without complaint, falling backward into the furs, and you join him, perching on hands and knees —placing a long lick up the underside of his cock before a small sucking kiss on the head and presenting yourself to Alexios for the taking.

Alexios steps up behind you, his hands running over your hips and backside. His fingers dip into your soaked cunt before curling around his cock, stroking himself before pressing into you —slowly, so you can feel each ridge and vein dragging along your walls, filling you. It draws a low moan from you as he bottoms out, then starts thrusting shallowly as you lick a stripe up Eivor’s cock again. You give no warning as you open wide, mouth closing around the head of his cock and slipping halfway down his length. His fingers instinctively yank at your hair, moan cracking in his throat like he’s choking on the sound.

From behind, relentlessly to his snapping hips, Alexios fucks into you. Hard, rigid, merciless through a string of guttural groans and stumbling profanities spoken in a tongue you do not understand. Needy and pitifully pathetic, your aching cunt burns with each thrust, rough pads of his callous fingers digging into the skin of your bare hips. You lay there for him, hands twisted into the fur pelts next to Eivor’s thighs, body jolting and humming with pleasure. You can’t see him, yet you know how he must be —satisfied— and how he must look —chest flushed as incoherent grunts of pleasure bolt his lips.

His thickness splits you inch by inch while he slams in relentlessly, ceaselessly, persistently. Each vein, each ridge, each curve of his cock skidding along the walls of your cunt, driving your body further into oblivion. Alexios’s teeth scrape over your shoulder when he lowers his mouth to your back. One of his hands stays on your waist, anchoring you against him, the other palms your breast, fingers tweaking one nipple then the other. You’re vaguely aware that Alexios and Eivor are saying something to each other, but you’re too distracted by your work to pay attention. You shiver a bit when you feel warm hands come down to grope your breasts, and you let your throat squeeze around him, mind shrouded in a fog of sex.

Alexios looks down at the display of his cock moving in and out of your wet cunt. It’d be a shame not to enjoy what you’re offering in the moment. He leans over you, chest pressed against your back, and kisses your neck —the feel of his hot lips sends a shiver down your spine and makes you clench around his cock. “Fuck,” he hisses, grabbing a handful of your ass to spur you along. You feel the familiar tension blooming in your stomach as he thrusts inside you again and again. The needy little sounds you’re making for him are muffled around Eivor’s cock. Alexios’s bottoming out with every rock of his hips against yours, and this won’t last much longer for either of you —his cock is already throbbing with the prospect of release.

Eivor’s fingers thread into your hair, keeping you against his groin and looking at you like you’re some kind of benevolent goddess. It only makes that heat inside you flare up more. This all feels so good, but you can only offer muffled whines as both of them enjoy your body. You whimper, and the low reverberation and hum of your mouth around his cock is enough to finish Eivor —and you swallow the bitter salt of his seed.

Rough fingertips find your clit, rubbing and stroking until your cunt clamps down tight around his cock, and you lose all sense of focus as the wave of pleasure washes over you —breath reduced to tiny gasps and your thighs shaking. You slump forward, head pillowed on Eivor’s stomach, content to let Alexios work himself to his own finish with your body, and it doesn’t take much time. He comes inside you after a few more sloppy thrusts, cock spasming deep in your cunt, pressed so close against your back you can feel his heart beating fast behind you. The two of you stay together for a minute to get your bearings before he pulls out and steps away.

Eivor’s waited long enough to have your cunt, and he’ll not give you long to recover from how Alexios fucked you. He crawls between your thighs. His eyes hold a certain darkness you’ve never seen before —rooted in jealousy— and his mouth is slightly a gape with his chest rising and falling in heavy heaves. He takes hold of his cock, stroking himself as his spare hand plants to your hip, spreading your legs open wide for his taking. Eivor’s lips quirk into a faint smirk as he guides his cock into you as if to say you’re mine now.

Low and throaty, he hisses to the sensation, eyes momentarily clenching shut to the feel of you as he sinks to the hilt. His thrusts start slow but quicken —he’s thought about having you like this again on many a cold night— cock throbbing and twitching inside you, slipping from your cunt messily each time before plummeting back in. He grunts and curses above you as you plead with sobs of frustration and nigh overstimulation. You’ve never been so well-fucked before.

Your nails dig into his biceps, each thrust presses your breasts tighter to his chest. Eivor dips his head down, teeth scraping over your neck —just above a thrumming pulse. Your body involuntarily reacts, arching into him, legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer every time he rolls his hips into yours. His fingertips press hard into your thighs, holding you tight against him, and your back arches with jolting shocks. Eivor’s eyes blacken when his eyes glaze over your body —wanton and bare, completely exposed for him, with your breasts bouncing as he rams in, cock burying deep, deep inside you with each thrust.

He grunts, jaw tightened, his pace never faltering. Your cunt pulses and throbs —Alexios’s seed leaking onto the furs below. Eivor breathes your name, face lowering to yours —mead-tinged breath hot against your lips as he quietly growls, teeth barely grazing your jaw. Persistently, he nips at the soft skin of your neck, leaving marks to match those left by Alexios, as if marking his claim too. “Fuck,” he grits, his eyes frenzied and primal, wild as he asserts his dominance —taking what should have been his all along. It’s the way his throbbing cock works your cunt, the way he perfectly fucks you into pure and utter bliss.

Throaty and gruff, he lets out rough moans, breathy and raggedy, and hot as he shudders, sending shivers of wanting down your spine when you know he’s close. Your head tilts back, and you can see Alexios reclined behind you —watching contentedly. With a few particularly harsh thrusts, you yelp in pleasure, ascending another peak, searing your nerves as he continues to fuck into you, chasing his own end. Eivor’s cock hits your end with a halt, a satisfied grumble of his chest rumbling against your breasts as he finds release, filling you with tingling warmth. Then his head falls forward, forehead pillowed on your breasts, and he lets out a breathy exhale, chest hot and puffing from the exertion. Drawing in a long sigh, Eivor slides his cock from you, rolling off to the side.

Shifting, you rest your head on Alexios’s stomach and drape your legs across Eivor’s. He smooths his hand over your calf and turns his head, watching the seed drip from your ruined cunt. Sleep weighs heavily on your chest after the length of days of travel, and now this. It calls sweetly. “Have we persuaded you to go to England with us?” Alexios asks, half-laughing as he runs his fingertips over your stomach and stops to fondle one of your breasts.

“Will the two of you be having me like this every day if I do?” You ask in turn, voice airy —dreamy— eyes slipping shut. Both men exchange a look, and neither will object to such a proposition. You can feel the low rumble of laughter in Alexios and Eivor’s chests. You certainly wouldn’t object to the proposal. Eivor kisses the bend of your knee, and Alexios takes your hand, lips pressing to the center of your palm —each kiss like a promise of what’s to come.

[taglist: @alessyaraven @alexandra-alle @ananriel @callmemythicalminx @certifiedlittleshit @chaotic-spooky @darkravenqueen98 @edelaen @elluvians @erzsebetrosztoczy @finick94 @hc-geralt-23 @idkjj04 @itseivwhore @kitkitvm @ksziggy @letsloveimagines @maximalblaze @missmannequin @mrsragnarlodbrok @novastale @overratedsun @qhbr2013 @queenyalo @rhienn-lavellan-rutherford @thedragonqueenfan @theelvenvalkyrie @thepreciouspurrsian @vanillabeanlattes @wallsarecrumbling @withered-poppies @xxdearlybeloved ] if your name is italicized, tumblr would not let me tag you. if you’d like to be added to my Eivor, Alexios, or any other taglist, just let me know with this Google Form!

181 notes · View notes

jpdoingwords · 9 months

Text

Assassin's Creed Odyssey Fanfiction

Three long fics and a bunch of shorts, drabble, and incomplete fics. Multiple ships, mostly mlm, some het.

All works are rated M unless otherwise noted, because there is canon-typical violence at times and there are multiple mild sex scenes. Some of these works are explicit - please be sure to check before reading if you aren't into that.

All on AO3 unless otherwise noted.

The Good Spartan

aka. the Alexidas The Good Spartan Summary: It's 431 BCE. Brasidas prepares to take up his first major posting, unaware of all that lays before him in the coming years of the Peloponnesian War. The story is told almost entirely from Brasidas' perspective and follows him from before his first major historical action at Methone to his last, at Amphipolis. This is a crossover between AC Odyssey and Thucydides' history, The Peloponnesian War, favouring Thucydides. I am being as historically accurate as I can, game canon is paid lip service at best. Historical notes are included at the end of each chapter. Snippets on Tumblr: Bardas || Antidas || Diomede || Adimantos In Every Life (The Good Spartan Poem) (Alexios’ POV). The Good Spartan Drabble [Google docs, More additions to come in time.]

Another Life: [Alternative Ending of The Good Spartan, WIP]. Summary: Brasidas survives the Battle of Amphipolis, thanks to Alexios' visit to the Underworld; but even before the battle, he knew he'd never go back to Sparta. He's no longer a good Spartan, nor willing to make the sacrifices required to go on pretending to be one. He just needs to persuade Alexios, and recover from his wounds… and together, find somewhere they might have a little peace.

Another Kind of Odyssey series:

aka. the Thalexios The Warmth of Home Summary: After the events of Odyssey, Alexios has been hiding from the world, loitering in the northern regions of Greece. When he decides to return to Athens for the winter, Demosthenes seeks him out for a job only he can do - whether he wants to or not. This leads him to cross paths with Thaletas again, discovering that this old flame burns the brightest of all.

Unfinished Business Summary: Stentor arrives at Stymphalos, where Thaletas and Alexios settled three years previously. He comes with a message: Alcibiades is in Sparta, and wants to see Alexios - urgently. Answering this seemingly innocent request will sweep them all into events they could not foresee, and had hoped would never occur...

The Turning Tide Summary: Spring, 413BCE. The Peace of Nikias has ended. Sparta and Athens are at one another's throats again. Before the Peace, Sparta was having few successes; but they have a plan they hope will turn the tide against Athens... Against this backdrop of renewed hostilities, Alexios and Thaletas are called upon to complete a mission for King Agis, which will test them and their relationship in ways they haven’t been tested before...

In the Heart of Things Summary: 412BCE. Reunited after a difficult year, Alexios and Thaletas have been sent to Chios by King Agis to keep an eye on the situation there as the theatre of the Peloponnesian War shifts eastwards, into the islands. There, they will discover more than they could have bargained for about themselves and their people, and what it is that lies at the heart of things...

A Few Olives Summary: Alexios decided to buy a farm. Thaletas went along with it. But the plan was not what he had expected, but then nothing ever had been with Alexios. This is the story of a relationship that has grown up in difficult times, and peace is now the hardest thing to deal with. Thaletas struggles to know himself, and Alexios doesn’t understand. Sometimes things must break before they can be reformed.

The Fire and the Flood Series:

aka. The Alexithenes This series is rated E. An Athenian Summer Summary: Early in the War, Alexios allows Socrates to lure him to Athens for the summer. During his stay in the city, his relationship with Demosthenes, not yet a general of Athens, will change significantly... But as the war rages on, will the pressures of the messy world beyond Athens' walls bring the pair together or drive them apart? This story takes liberties with canon; as much as possible, I try to keep characters true to their game-selves; original characters are mostly secondary characters, though of necessity I have provided Demosthenes with more character than he had in the game. Alexios is not immortal; his father is Nikolaos.

The Blue Cloak Alexios and Timotheos are flirting with the idea of being an item when, in order to help the brothers move past the events in canon, Alexios comes up with a plan to further Lykinos' dream of being a poet in Athens. Things take an unexpected turn when Alexios finds himself waking up aboard the Adrestia wearing a cloak he has never seen before.... aka. drunk Alexios gets himself into a situation. This is the edited version of a story previously published as So it is With Us. This version has an additional chapter added at the end and has been rewritten in parts, particularly the first half.

Short and Experimental Pieces

aka. The Deimos fic Shadow-Twin He felt like neither Deimos nor Alexios. They were two skins he’d shed - and what remained now? What new skin might he grow? Who might he become? They’d all demanded answers of him at one time or another. They’d all asked where he’d been when he went out, what he’d been doing. With concern or with curiosity or what they perhaps thought of as friendship. What they meant was: Let me in. Tell me who are you. He gave always the same reply: a grunt. How could he answer that when he didn’t know?

From the Darkness, Light: Brasidas & Deimos!Kassandra Having failed to keep his involvement in the assassination of the Monger in Korinth under wraps, Brasidas is sent by the Kings to Paros on a 'special mission' which he suspects is a punishment. His task is to find a missing lokhagos, but what he uncovers is far bigger and darker than the abduction of one man.

aka the Herodietas (Thaletas x Herodianos) Rising to the Surface: Rated E for the first two parts. After the events during the Mykonos arc of the story, Thaletas is left behind to face the consequences of Alexios' actions. Herodianos, who has been his loyal friend for a long time, does everything he can to comfort him - and so the hands of the Fates are set to work. This was an exercise in writing - Smut, Fluff and Angst, a chapter for each, in that order. Features the power of puppies to dispel the pain of existence.

It Was Just Red "Nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn it into poetry. All that blood was never once beautiful. It was just red." Kait Rakowski This story was prompted by a post I saw recently on Tumblr. It showed Kass sitting at the empty table back in Sparta during the final dinner scene, against which the poster had written something along the lines of: this is the best possible ending – the least amount of Spartans left alive. The following work is an exercise in exploring what that outcome might look like, and seeks to detail some sense of the possible shifting feelings Alexios might have around losing his whole family, mostly at his own hands (a version of the game I’ve never played and frankly never will) and to explore the main question this post prompted in me: Is there a way in which I might believe this could be the best outcome? Fair warning: This work doesn’t honour the game timeline, and as always, I'm disinterested in strict compliance with canon. It’s canon divergent from the get-go simply because it’s Alexios, anyway.

Odyssey Drabble Summary: This is a collection of odds and ends I wrote alongside longer pieces, mainly in response to prompt lists. So far, these consist of: Four based on the tarot: Alexios as a teenager throwing himself into the sea to Anais' horror (an early version of a piece included in It Was Only Red); Brasidas finding himself in the Underworld (a tiny fix-it fic); a tentative beginning to a Daphnae fic I've always contemplated writing; a scene with Demosthenes and Alexios which fits nowhere else; two snippets of modern day AU with an Alexidas focus; and a random Brasidas x reader which I have never written before and quite likely won't again. I will be adding to this collection in time, as I continue working through a significant amount of files that I had forgotten existed (and maybe a few little new things).

#assassin's creed odyssey #fanfiction #jpdoingwords #alexios of sparta #brasidas #brasidas of sparta #alexidas #thalexios #thaletas

31 notes · View notes

rosemary-morgan · 1 year

Text

Alexios X F.Reader - The tase of wine and lust

(Pictures are not mine! Found on Pinterest/Google - Collage made by myself)

Many thanks to @fangirl-ramblings 🖤 she has been beta reading for me 🌹

Hello, lovley bees 🐝🌺 I found this pearl called Alexios ♥ I hope you’ll enjoy it. It’s just pure smut. I was thinking if maybe I should write a story with several chapters out of it. Hmm, we will see. There are some ideas floating around in my head.

What do you think? Let me know (❁´◡`❁)

Warning: 18+, NSFW, unprotected sex, over stimulation

The tase of wine and lust (+18)

"Mhm..." "Alexios..." Alexios was completely lost in what he was doing, but he still enjoyed listening to the sweet sounds of his beloved, and loved making her happy. Here, in his little house in Cephallonia. He really didn't have much to offer her, but Y/N didn't seem to mind. Y/N and Alexios were enjoying their nights filled with love and passion. Their love was intoxicating like wine and often the two would give themselves to the sweet, yet bitter taste of wine before embarking on another night of passionate lovemaking. "Alexios, please..." She whimpered, moaning with pleasure as she gripped at his dark hair. The young mercenary looked up at her, the lust in his eyes clearly visible. He gazed at her like a predator who was completely ravenous. Alexios feasted on the pleasure of her nectar, her sweet scent, while he slowly licked her. His tongue parted her wet labia, sliding up slowly between her folds and circled her swollen clit. Y/N lay exhausted in the soft blankets and pillows, but she was enjoying this night far too much and wished that morning would never come. "Come for me, my love. Come again." That wouldn't be hard, for Alexios was really skilled at fucking her with his tongue. He swallowed her juice, mingled with his own saliva, before going back to continuing to lick her. Moaning softly, he slid his whole tongue over her labia, then spread them with his fingers, before wrapping his lips around her clit and starting to suck on it. Alexios immediately noticed that she was trying to free herself from his grip, but he gripped her thighs and made her lie still. The young woman tossed and turned on the soft fabrics, clawing at his hair as she moaned louder and louder, starting to tremble. "Alexios!"

He looked up at her again, watching her beautiful body quiver and feasting his eyes on the sight of her firm breasts that looked more delicious than plump apples. When Y/N came, she tossed her head back into the pillows and a wonderful sensation shot through her whole body. Alexios held her tightly to his mouth, caressing her thighs until he slowly released his lips from her and the trembling of her thighs stopped. He gently kissed the insides of her thighs, kissing his way up her body, giving his beloved a little break. As he breathed tender kisses on her belly, he heard her giggle softly and her belly trembled slightly. This made the young man smile and his mouth continued to make its way up to her. "Y/N..." The young woman looked into his beautiful face and she felt his warm, naked body nestling against hers. As if by themselves, her thighs fell wide apart, allowing Alexios more space. They both moaned in deepest pleasure as Alexios' cock nestled against her womanhood. Lovingly, his fingers slid over her cheek and he looked at her angelic face, on which the dark shadows of the candles flickered, while the other half of her face was glowing in a warm orange. Her long lashes cast shadows on her flushed cheeks and her soft lips were swollen from his hot kisses. "I love you, Alexios," she whispered, closing her eyes as he tenderly kissed her cheek and then her lips. "I love you too," he replied softly while his lips were still attached to hers. Then Y/N felt Alexios slowly enter her pussy and the young woman gently clawed into his strong arms. They were both insatiable. Their lovemaking had been going on for several hours now and yet they couldn't get enough of each other. Alexios took his time with the foreplay, because he knew how much Y/N loved it as much as he did.. With his nose he pushed her hair aside, taking in her feminine scent. "Y/N..." His voice was all hoarse and dazed with pleasure.

"I desire you so much, Y/N." His words were more of a whisper, but she heard them clearly and Y/N instantly closed her eyes at the deep sound of his voice. His warm, sensual voice. His hands caressed the young woman's naked body and Alexios enjoyed the feel of her soft skin under his fingers. "I want you all for myself. All of you." Alexios was a passionate man. He loved with all his heart and soul. And he would not share Y/N with anyone. Alexios kissed her with the deepest passion and Y/N returned his kiss with equal lust. He reached for her hips, clawed into her soft flesh and thrust into her hard once, causing her to cry out softly and roll her eyes back in pleasure. He began to move inside her with long, powerful thrusts. He wished this ecstasy would last forever. Her beautiful eyes looked up at him; full of love, full of desire and over Alexios' lips slipped a lustful sigh. Y/N took her hand and put it on his cheek and he closed his eyes with pleasure at this tender gesture. This woman was his life. And with his life he would protect her. Y/N looked at the man who had stolen her heart and soul. Y/N felt his thick, stiff penis deep inside her and with each thrust he drove her further and further to her climax. And with each time his body rubbed against hers, her clit was delightfully caressed in the process. Her breath deepened, her heart beat faster and her face testified with pleasure. Alexios' thrusts were getting stronger, more intense, and so much so that Y/N pressed the back of her hand against her lips to keep from moaning loudly. Seeing this, he smirked in pleasure, gasping in pleasure. Alexios sat down on his knees, grabbed her legs and pulled them wide apart so that he now had more room to maneuver and he took full advantage of this. His insatiable passion for this woman was like blazing fire, by which Y/N was literally devoured. He pulled out of her, looking at her as he thrust back in. Giving her pleasure was delicious. Seeing her desire him; there were no words to describe that. He stroked her, sliding in and out, and could feel her taking him inside her more and more greedily. Her skin seemed to glow, her heartbeat accelerated and Alexios was so enchanted by the sight of this woman that he forgot everything around him. Alexios felt it coming and stopped, because he didn't want this closeness between them to end. He gasped, moaning her name over and over again, his eyes gazing into hers the whole time. He saw her lust, saw her desire, and he saw the fine tears in her eyes, for she was happy. Y/N's feelings overwhelmed her, literally catapulting her to heaven as the climax shook her body. Alexios let out a low growl, a harsh moan as he felt her close around his shaft and hold him greedily. "Fuck... Y/N!" He thrust deep into her, over and over again. With each thrust, he took her as deep as he could. He shuddered as he poured into her, his seed filling her. He held her abdomen pressed tightly against his, enjoying every pulsation, every twitch, every moment of the long, wonderful climax they shared. When the sparks faded and he could think again, Alexios looked down at her. She smiled and he did the same as the back of his hand gently ran over her cheek. That moment reminded them both that there was still hope and love in this world...

#assassins creed odyssey #alexios #alexios x f.reader #female reader #love #assasins creed #fanfiction #my fanfiction #my stuff

133 notes · View notes

woodsman2b · 11 months

Text

For the #Brasideia2023 !

I've yet to post this story on AO3 so you're the first to read it !

A bit of Alexios/Brasidas NSFW interactions :)

#brasideia2023 #brasidas #alexios #fanfic #fan fic #fanfiction #fan fiction #brasilexios #alexidas #brasidas x alexios

21 notes · View notes

thelooneytoon · 1 year

Text

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 ||

23 notes · View notes

brasideios · 9 months

Text

The Good Spartan, the Poem Version?

While I’m at it… back in April of last year, I wrote a kind of poem version of The Good Spartan? Kind of from Alexios’ POV?

I don’t know why, I don’t remember doing it, but here it is anyway.

[I was probably just needing to let some things go while writing TGS - It was challenging not being able to express Alexios’ POV at times.]

In Every Life

In every life,

I would let you live.

I would meet you again

In wreaths of smoke,

Fight beside you,

Our fluid dance of death

And smile when at last

You turned those warm brown eyes

To survey me.

The world you carry

Behind those eyes;

The heartbreak and the suffering

But then no one knew

Perhaps not even you

If you felt anything at all.

How else could you survive?

How else could you continue?

Those warm brown eyes

And voice like honey

Melted in the sun…

Even then

Not knowing what might be

Our eyes danced to meet

As we danced in combat.

What else might be?

In every life

I would steal again into that tower

Watch over you as you slept,

pretend to myself I waited

For you to wake

but content

To listen to your breathing

To know I wasn’t alone anymore.

And from the first, I had this urge:

to guard you, watch over you

To keep you safe

As ribs protect the heart.

In every life I would find you

Browned by sun and salty

With the brine of the sea

Aching to kiss the salt from your lips

Aching to touch you

To know you

To find my way

Like water through a faultline

To the place where you were

I never wanted the surface

But the deep water

The strange fish that swim

Through the places

where no light shone.

I had no fear of your darkness

I had no fear of pain

I wanted to see the places

Even you didn’t know were there.

In every life

For you and you alone

I would dare to step

Where everyone cursed me.

Hated me for what I’d done

As a small boy, unknowing.

You led me there and for you

I went.

Still I guarded you, even

where we were safest.

For you I’d fight anyone

Even Hades himself.

In every life,

I’d press myself to you

Soul to soul, mouth to mouth,

Skin to skin, pain to pain

And panting my love

Hear it echo back to me,

In your inarticulate murmurs

Against my lips, against my ear

Each to each we are redeemed.

Each to each we are alive.

In every life

I would follow you into darkness.

From Temple to battlefield

Battlefield to death,

Death to underworld.

That we should end

As two souls,

shapeless, formless.

Yet even there,

We would know each other.

… yet.

That choice was not mine to make.

And there is only one life.

I must live mine

and yours…

Yours

must

enough.

It must be enough.

#assassin’s creed odyssey #fanfiction #TheGoodSpartan #poetry #i apparently write in a state of delirium sometimes #my past life springing surprises on my future self #jpdoingwords #Alexidas #alexios of sparta #brasidas of sparta

14 notes · View notes

kiatheinsomniac · 2 years

Note

Affection headcannons for Alexios if you have the time? 🥺

I definitely feel like Alexios' love language would be acts of service and words of affirmation.

He's always helping you out with things around the house or just going out of his way to make things easier for you

He always makes sure that you feel loved and appreciated with honeyed words and long hugs

He enjoys listening to you talk about your interests and will continue to ask questions about them just to watch how happy you get

He doesn't strike me as the type to always want to touch you somehow as you're going about the day but I feel that when you're alone he'll want to spend long periods of time holding you

He'll tell you how much he adores you and how beautiful you are to him in Greek

Oh and he loves cooking for you - he only knows simple stuff but he just feels protective of you somehow when he makes sure you eat regularly by setting a plate down beside you or calling you to the dining table

#alexios/reader #alexios x reader #alexios #alexios of sparta #assassins creed fanfiction #assassins creed fanfic #assassins creed #assassins creed x reader #alexios of sparta x reader #assassins creed odyssey x reader #assassins creed odyssey

246 notes · View notes

khromplays · 2 years

Photo

The end of an odyssey. Alexios finally confronts his sister Kassandra. He respected his mother’s wish to do his best to turn her back into a regular being.

Brasidas, his lover, was caught in between Alexios and the Cult, like many others close to Alexios. Due to grief, he thought of killing Kassandra but after realizing how much they have both lost because of the Cult, he forgives her and brought her back to their mother. She finally breaks free and rebels against the Cult, killing all remaining members.

Mysthios, you’ve grown.

#alexios #assassinscreedodyssey #kassandra #aspasia #brasidas #is it fanfiction or canon

39 notes · View notes

floralpunkbarton · 1 year

Text

i've been particularly enjoying different video games fic as of late and there's a flavor to it i find distinct from other types of media's fic that is so charming to me, particularly with fic for big open world rpg's, and it's the inherent understanding you get of the author's in game choices

it's like, there's almost no way to be out of character (at least when i read it, bc frankly i don't really care about ooc stuff in general, it's always fun author flavor in my book) bc the characterization of the main character in an rpg is already colored by the choices of the player, and fanfiction just allows that to be taken one step further

it's like. an ouroboros of character, the mc is different depending on the player choices and then those influences from the player are taken out of the stricter contexts of pre-written game scenarios and choices by the author and given even more if their own spin

idk that i'm saying anything groundbreaking here i'm just so charmed by the endless permutations available on video game fic

#it's about the humanity idk idk #i just love that i never get the same arthur morgan or alexios or sam porter bridges #it's very cute and very fun for me the reader #fanfiction #video games #anyway all media has its own distinct flavor of fic about it and it's so delightful

8 notes · View notes

auroralykos · 1 year

Text

new fic alert 🚨🔔

I really like this one.

#ac odyssey #reincarnation fic #fanfiction #alexios #kassandra #ares #poseidon

7 notes · View notes

author-morgan · 2 years

Note

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[ Alexios taglist: @wallsarecrumbling @novastale @maximalblaze @erzsebetrosztoczy @kitkitvm @overratedsun @alexandra-alle @thepreciouspurrsian @missmannequin @chaotic-spooky @mrsragnarlodbrok @certifiedlittleshit ] if your name is italicized, tumblr would not let me tag you. if you’d like to be added to my Alexios taglist, or any other taglist, just let me know with this Google Form!

#Alexios #Alexios x Reader #Alexios Imagine #Alexios Fanfiction #Assassin's Creed Imagine #Assassin's Creed Fanfiction #Assassin's Creed Odyssey #AC: Odyssey #my writing #anonymous #requested #remember if you liked this pleases reblog it #alexi-ohs is back #kinda #return of big sexios #also i dont think ive used that pic before?#oops if i have i dont remember shit no more

138 notes · View notes