#world of black hammer

[graphicpolicy]

Explore the world of Black Hammer with The World of Black Hammer Omnibus 3

Explore the world of Black Hammer with The World of Black Hammer Omnibus 3 #comics #comicbooks

Dark Horse Books presents the latest collection of the Black Hammer saga in the World of Black Hammer Omnibus Volume 3 in an affordable paperback omnibus format! The book collects Colonel Weird: Cosmagog #1—4and Barbalien: Red Planet #1—5. This collection features writing by Jeff Lemire and Tate Brombal with interior art by Tyler Crook and Gabriel Hernández Walta, colors by Tyler Crook and Jordie…

[golden-stag]

I think my favourite part of any GG song so far is extremely specific but it's the middle part of Armor-Clad Faith from 2:13-2:23.

Something about that really specific part scratches an itch in my brain

[1000dactyls]

(admiringly) hermann hesse the yaoi writer that you are… my take on limbus demian btw. they fucked up massively trying to translate book!sinclair and demian’s weird psychosexual vengeful loving relationship. but i can make them better.worse. Blasphemous

2nd pic is demian without the “florid red lips” he’s described in with the book because he needs to retain his pale boy swagger without looking too much like iori

[theealluringstoryteller]

Agaisnt The World Around Us

Chapter 5: The wedding

Clara snuggled her son relishing in the warmth his body gave as she read the words off the pages of the book she found in their small library in the village. Despite him being 13 she appreciated him still wanting to read to him and cuddle him when he wanted to spend time with her or in need of comfort. Castin silently followed along with his eyes, one almost swollen shut due to the fight he got into with boys much older than him. Clara hated how her sweet boy was treated among people in their village and she tried her best to make up for it by doing everything she could at home. “And then ‘swoosh’ Perseus swooped down on his flying horse towards Andromeda determined to save the chained princess from the sea monster ‘Cetus’ ”

She continued on with the story warmly smiling as Castin cuddled a bit more closer to her, drowned in the story escaping the day that he had.

“After the mighty Demi God slayed the horrid beast he took Princess Andromeda back to her father King Cepheus and asked for her hand in marriage-" “Ughhh!” Castin groaned loudly turning his head up the shift in the story. “Awe come on Cassie! All heroes deserve love-” “But he’s in his prime! He’s gonna throw it all away for some…chick!” Castin huffs crossing his arms over his chest suddenly uninterested in the tale. The young Castin grumbled to himself about how weak Perseus was. “What man would rather settle down instead of living a life full of honor!” Frowning Clara closed the book unhappy with her son’s thought process. “Who said it wasn’t honorable to be in love?” She questioned wanting to get down to the source of his disdain! “Only girls fall in love! It’s stupid and silly!” Castin went on. “It’s not manly at all!”

Appalled Clara scoffed “who told you all of this…horse shit?” She demanded snatching his chin and turning his face towards her. His eyes now softening he shrugs his shoulders feeling bad about getting his mother upset. “They say so! It’s not the Intacian way!”

Clara sighed mentally cursing those who put such an idea into her son’s head. “Cassie,honey, don’t believe to their bullshit! They are nothing but a bunch of miserable pathetic old men who are unhappy with their lives because they couldn’t manage to get a woman even of low standards to fall in love with their miserable asses!” Clara begins motioning Castin into her arms. Scooting back into his mother’s embrace Castin remained silent knowing that now it wasn’t the best time to cut in with his warped opinions. “Let me tell you my little love, you’re going to find a woman when you grow into a man and you’re gonna be so in love with her and her you because you deserve that! You’re by far better than those low life roaches who told you that it wasn’t manly to be in love-your father loved me very much!” She tells him hugging him closely. “And this woman you’re gonna find-she’s gonna be everything you’ve ever dreamed of-”

“Maaa! I don’t dream of girls!” Castin whined at the thought. “Oh please don’t lie to your mother! I wash your clothes!”

“Ma!” Castin groaned again, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

“Oh hush!” Clara chuckled softly pinching Castin’s side.

“My boy! You’re home!” Clara cheered rushing up to her son who now towered over her. A bright smile on his face he embraced her closing his eyes in relief now that he’s home and away from the camp that had too many funky bodies and none of his mother’s delicious cooking.

“I missed ya too, ma!”

“You better! The amount of time I stay up thinking and worrying about you!” She exclaimed letting go so she could do a look over of her son.

She tsked at his lanky figure “Are they not feeding you? What you have to be an official soldier to get a decent meal plan?!” Clara continued to fuss causing Castin to smile and laugh to himself at his mother’s behavior.

“Gisela! Isn’t that the boy you’re brother-”

“Shush!”

Castin developing keen ear picked up not to far from his home. His eyes catching sight of two girls around his age walking by huddled together as they peered over at him while whispering horribly.

“He’s cute! Maybe you should ask him out?”

“What?! What if he says no?”

Smirking Castin lifted a hand “Sup Ladies!” He greeted jerking his chin up in a nod. The two girls gasped then awkwardly laughed stopping their stroll now that there was an air of opportunity.

Frowning Clara glanced between the girls and her son. She studied the two before her eyes went from slits to calm within seconds.

“I’m sorry girls but my son here desperately needs a bath! Camp has lice!” Clara huffs looking at Castin’s hair full of disgust. “Yeah! Unfortunately that’s what happens with some soldiers in training!” She tells them shrugging her shoulders, ignoring the look her son was shooting her way. The woman shooed away the girls who held a displeased look on their faces.

“Maaa!” Castin cried dramatically raising his arms asking ‘why?’

“Trust me Cassie I’ve seen those girls buzzing like a hover fly in other warriors in training faces and I’ll be damned if you came home with something far worse than lice.”

Ushering her son into their house Clara began what Castin would refer to as rambling “I did you a favor! You need a girl who doesn’t get so excited over male attention! Someone who shares something you also love-like reading! Oh and she has to be sweet! You need a nice girl! To keep that heart of yours safe and full of love.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah Ma!” Castin rolls his eyes happy to be home. “I’ll be sure to marry her when I find her”

Castin stood tall at the alter his Commander suit felt like bricks anchoring him in place as his eyes were glued to the approaching figure in all white. He couldn’t believe how beautiful she looked making her way towards him, towards their future together, a one sided love. Ethereal is what came to mind as he saved this memory in his mind. Many years ago his mother told him and now it’s happening! He was in love! Goddess how he loved her. It plagued him! Turned every other woman into faceless humanoid creatures who could no longer sway him with their attention and empty affection.

His eyes only saw her, he only wanted her. Somehow she casted a spell and poof! He was her’s and she had no clue. That was the bittersweet part of this wedding. He was marrying the woman he loved while she was marrying the man she loathed.

Omorose barely spared him a glance as she stood emotionless at the alter beside him. Rhett shook his head throwing Castin a short look of disappointment at failing to win over the Baroness, before be started the ceremony.

“Today is one that will be marked in our new found history. Where two enemy nations set their hatred, division and differences aside to unite and become stronger together as one through the union of Intacian warrior commander Castin Hammer and Imperial Baroness of the coastal Empire Omorose Fentress. Bear witness as they commit themselves to each other and as their commitment serves as a bond between the Coastal empire and Intacia!”

A mixture of low groans and whispers creeped up once King Rhett finished the opening speech of the wedding ceremony.

In the coastal empire Weddings were a show. The richer you were, the higher or title the more elaborate your wedding is expected to be. Ballads were song, Dances were performed and the tales of both families histories were told high lighting where the union was a grand one. It was quite the cultura shock when Rhett went straight into asking

“Baroness, before the Goddess and everyone here do you take Castin to be your husband? Do you accept him as your partner and your equal for the rest of your life?”

“I do.” Her voice voided and empty as she sealed her fate, intertwining her life seconds before he did the same.

“And Castin, before the goddess and everyone here do you take the Baroness to be your wife? Do you accept her as your partner and your equal for the rest of your life?”

“Yeah…I do.” He said softly stealing a glance at her from the corner of his eyes. The empty look in her pretty honey eyes pained him to see. A consequence for him being a total ass.

“Then I king Rhett of Intacia and of the Coastal Empire bind you two together forever. Castin you may kiss your wife.” Rhett announced motioning him to step forward.

“Gladly!” Castin smirked.

Omorose mentally frowned as she was pulled into the kiss. She didn’t bother putting much effort into its Castin lead it.

While it brought Castin butterflies it brought Omorose nothing but disgust especially when he moaned into the kiss. And the sound of cheering and clapping only made her sour more.

Pushing him away she noticed the look of disappointment on her now Husband’s face.

“Hey you know you didn’t have to push me away like that towards the end.”

“You were getting carried away for something that doesn’t mean anything on a personal level.” She snipped maneuvering her dress around prepared to get far away from him as possible.

“Yeah you’re right…my bad. Kinda got carried away there.” Castin admits hoping she would be a little more kinder to him like she was with her close friends and Nina.

Rolling her eyes Omorose searched through the crowd for a familiar face she could socialize with instead of the husband she wanted to avoid.

Moving closer he asked “Look…could we at least dance?”

Throwing him a look Omorose scoffed her heeled feet carrying her and her long gown away as a frustrated Castin followed.

“Hey! Come on…look you’ve been doing this for months. I am your husband! Okay? You just can’t keep avoiding me.” He pleads wishing to reason with her.

Not bothering to entertain the thought Omorose kept walking.

Castin signed in frustration watching her go “Are you serious?!”

With her head held high Omorose was completely unaware of the power she held over Castin who suddenly felt like the rejected boy of his village once again. The feeling causing him to crave alcohol to wash away the ill feeling.

He might as well make the most of his wedding night! Nothing else was going to come if it but partying and drinking himself stupid.

As a heavy weight he took the nearest bottle offered to him and chugged as much as possible desperate for rejected feeling to disappear. Perhaps if he got drunk enough one of the Bar maids would start mirroring Omorose’s looks and his feelings for her even if he no longer thirsted for meaningless conquests.

At the kings table Omorose listened to Rhett go on about giving the scoundrel friend of his another chance. She didn’t see how it would matter now that she tied herself to the hound.

“Dun da da dun da da!” A drunk voice sung loudly as a guitar’s strings were abusely played.

“Of course.” She hissed seeing Castin standing on a

Table top dancing with one of the barmaids that were on the clock. He looked absolutely stupid in her eyes. An embarrassment.

Rhett cursed excusing himself to retrieve his friend before he made a bigger fool of himself.

“No!” Omorose told herself standing from her seat and swiftly leaving the party to her room. She couldn’t allow herself to stay and be humiliated by a man who seemed to lack any control or self respect.

Once in her room she kicked off her heels and made her way to her vanity. Staring at her reflection ‘Stupid! Stupid! stupid girl with a sympathizing heart for her country’s enemy! Look where that weak caring heart got you. Pathetic!’ She thought.

‘Married to a man who is known to fuck anything as long as it has a warm hole! A damn dog! Now you have to lay it a flea covered bed because you want to fix your family’s mistakes like the fool they tried beating out of you!’ Her mind continued to berate her. Her nails sunk into the flesh of her palms as she willed the horrid thoughts away. Tears gathering in her eyes as negative feels swept over her.

“You always knew you were damned to a loveless Marriage don’t act surprised now. It was practically a birthright. But you’re not going to allow that or him to define the woman you are. You’re stronger than that!” She tells herself sinking her nails further into her palms to stop herself from shedding a tear.

A shaky breath forced its way passed her lips as the feeling finally left her. Forcefully she smiled at herself in the mirror before pulling out her journal and pen.

Passing the time writing in it waiting for the party to end up staying dress in case Aurelia or Nina came looking for her.

Nina sighed from afar watching the whole interaction go down. In the pit of her stomach she felt a sense of regret for not pushing hard enough to get Omorose not to go through with the marriage. To her it was clear it was going to end in shambles quickly.

“Let me go see about that child of mine.” She says to a random intacian man that brought her over a drink.

“Yeah! Tell her I said ‘good luck’ cause it is needed.” He laughed taking the cup she handed back

She couldn’t get through the threshold of the banquet hall before she was stopped by the King.

“Nina wait! Let Castin go to her! He needs to.”

“You don’t think he burned that bridge and pissed on its ashes enough!” She questioned raising a brow.

Defeated Rhett knew she was right and couldn’t argue. Bowing his head tiredly he said “Let him try one more time. Maybe now that she’s his wife he would finally pull his head out of his ass.”

“Goddess willing…”

To entranced in her thoughts the sound of her bedroom door opening without her permission startled her. Within seconds her dagger she stashed on the underside of her vanity was in her hands ready for use.

Castin looked at the weapon then at her scoffing a little amused.

“Come on babe really a knife? If you were going to kill me you should’ve done it before our wedding! It’s a little too late now.”

Sneering at the man Omorose sat the weapon on the vanity and picked up her pen.

“Stop with that.”

“What? You’re my wife I can’t call you sweetheart?” He asked. His buzzed mind enjoying the attention.

“It was arranged! It’s nothing on a personal level so there’s no need for pet names.” She spat pressing her pen harder into the paper.

“Who care if it was arranged? You and I walked down the aisle that makes you my…” he trailed seeing her get upset. “Come on say it with me now” he laughs hoping to get more of a reaction out of her.

“We are one flesh serving one Queen sweetheart, get use to it.”

Closing her eyes Omorose lifted her fingers to her temples and proceeded to give herself a message.

“So are you planning on coming back down? I mean come on leaving your own wedding reception kinda early is tacky don’t you think?”

“Tacky?!” She couldn’t help but scoffed. “Yet you were embarrassing me!”

Taken back Castin screwed up his face “what?! How was I embarrassing you?”

“You’re excessive drinking.”

“Ugh it’s a wedding babygirl. People drink. It’s not that weird.”

“Encouraging drunk people to drink!”

“Ok sure people got a little drunk but once again it’s a wedding. When else,”

“And you’re rhythmless ‘dancing’ with the rhythmless Barmaids?”

“Hmm? What about the barmaids?” He asked not sure if he heard her right. She turned giving him the ‘you heard me’ look.

“Uh come on? No! No! You know that’s not what that was.”

“A tasteless rhythmless eyesore everyone was forced to watch! Not even a single drop in that bottle could spare you a half an ounce of grace for such a badly preformed sensual dance.” Omorose went on grimacing at the thought. “Or for the poor girl who tried so hard to catch the beat but couldn’t! Disgraceful!”

‘If you’re going to disrespect me and this marriage so soon you could’ve at least looked decent while doing so.’ She thought.

“Okay! So I’m social! Not everyone is as introverted as you.”

“So go be social!” She waved towards the door.

“Nah I’m staying here with you.”

“Besides the Queen bounced after you left and that was the only thing keeping the party going soo… I think we’re done.” He says loosening his collar.

“The Queen asked about you. Ya know.” He went on helping himself to a bottle of wine gifted to her by an imperial nobleman wishing her luck and voicing his disdain for not being the Groom.

“She did?” Omorose inquired curious as to why.

“Of course! You’re the Bride and you just dipped out of nowhere.”

“So did you tell her why I left?”

“Well I told her you and I decided to call it a night early because you were so eager to have your husband on your wedding night.”

The color in Omorose’s face drained at his words and audacity. Picking up her cup of old wine she chucked it at him with so much hate behind it.

“How dare you!” She hissed.

“Oh I’m sorry? Was that not what you wanted me to tell her?” He asked raving in her anger. It was the first time she spent more than a second on him he was lapping it up.

“Oh dag my bad. I mean if you would’ve just stayed you could’ve told her yourself.”

“Asshole.” Omorose grumbled her eyes like daggers as she glared his way.

She returned to her journal her handwriting turning sloppy as she jotted down what was needed to be recorded in it.

The squeaks of the facet and water running nearly made her blood boil.

“What are you doing?” She demanded not in the mood to continue with his fuckery.

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m drawing a bath.” Castin stated obviously now growing tired of his wife’s attitude.

“Why?” She bluntly pressed him.

“Because I’m covered in sweat and wine and general party juices.”

“Not here.” She states wanting him out of her space

“Uh what makes you think I can’t?”

“Because I said so.”

“So you have a messed up attitude…that means I can’t be clean.”

“I don’t give a damn what you do as long as it’s not in my room?” Omorose replied

“Correction this is our room.” He corrected picking up a bottle of Omorose’s expensive oil infused bubble bath “and if I want to take a bath in our room I can do that.”

“Our room?” She asked in disgust. The night just kept getting worse.

“I mean you’re welcome to watch.” He smirks.

“I’d rather choke on the food I didn’t get to eat tonight.”

Annoyed at the whole ordeal Omorose thought of a way to piss him off like he pissed her off even if it was childish.

Shifting her dressed she sat herself more comfortably in her vanity chair picking up the book she was reading the night prior subconsciously scheming.

‘The window’ her subconscious pointed out. Curious if it would work she looked over to not only see through window but Castin.

Despite her feelings towards him she can admit that he was physically flawless when it came to his built and the scars marking up his body only added to his appeal.

Castin felt a boost of confidence seeing her look this way. He teased earning an eye roll. Turning back into her book Omorose pushed down the slightly embarrassment that crept over her.

Relaxed in the water Castin informed his wife of the Queen wanting them to ‘promenade through the garden’ so people could see them in the next upcoming weeks. Boldly he tried to suggest spending time outside of that request but was shot down with a dry “No”

“It doesn’t matter what you were going to say. The answer would’ve still been, no.”

Curious and a little bitter Castin grilled her on why.

“I have far better plans with far better company, that won’t cause me an exhausting headache.”

“Okaaay. The personal attack was kind of unnecessary. Who do you have plans with?”

“Lord Reyes.”

“Lord Reyes? Really? The dude from the Library?” Castin huffs remembering walking in on the two smiling and giggling to each other closely over something he couldn’t understand.

In sudden jealously Castin demanded “W-what do you have to do with him?”

Tiredly Omorose mouth turned smart “And you need to know because?”

“Seriously?” He gave her a pointed look. Shaking his head at her answer he decided to ask another question “oh so what is this Lord Reyes like?”

“What do you mean?” She countered dumbly.

“‘ What do you mean’ what do I mean? What do you think of him? Do you think he’s handsome?”

“As a matter of fact I do! Not that it matters since this is a fake marriage!”

Pissed off by her last sentence Castin corrects her in a low tone “This is not a fake marriage. It’s an arranged marriage.”

Seeing the displeased look and hearing him let out a breath, Omorose believed that their conversation session for the night ended.

Standing she looked over at him with her arms crossed over her chest.

“What?” He asked dejectedly.

“Can you hurry up.” She demands wanting to wash this lack luster day off.

“Relax there’s plenty of hot water. I’ll be out soon. You’ll get your turn.”

“Well make it real soon.”

“How about this the more you tell me to hurry up the longer I stay in here.”

Not happy with that she looked back at the window and made her way over to it. “What are you doing?”

Unlatching the widow she slid it open inviting the cold night air to creep in like fog.

“Are you serious?!” He raised his voice not believing she could be so childish.

“It’s freezing! Can you close that please?”

“No I’m getting a sudden flash of heat! Must be the dress…”

“So petty.” He grumbles “Fine!” Castin stood up from the water without warning.

With a cringe Omorose adverted her eyes hearing the water splash and puddle on the floor.

Sensing she still wasn’t happy Castin once again asked “what? You got what you wanted. I’m out! It’s all yours.” He motioned to the tub.

“Good now leave!”

“No I’m not leaving.” He retorts drying himself off

“You didn’t leave me I got in!” He pointed out.

“It’s different!”

“How’s it different?”

Rolling her eyes annoyed at that fact she couldn’t think of a solid answer.

“Go ahead do your thing.”

“Not around you!”

“Don’t worry sweetheart. I’m going to bed I’m not looking at you.”

Omorose stayed glued to her spot watching as he got into her bed much to her disliking. His face turned away from her and stayed that way. Taking in a gulp of air she unzipped the seamless zipper and allowed her gown to pool around her revealing the white lacey thong she wore underneath.

Worried he would turn to sneak a peak she quickly got in the tub thankful that it was a heated and filtrated model but the cold air still bit at her. Splashing at the water she wordlessly got Castin’s attention who was tired of her and her shit.

“What! What do you want now? What do you want me to bring you?”

Pointing over to her vanity Castin glanced over to see her book lying opened on the page she left off.

“Your book? Naw you shouldn’t have left it there.”

“Why not?” She pouted sinking into the water.

“Because I’m already comfortable. Besides! Didn’t you say you didn’t want me to see you?”

Grimacing at him quoting her she lets out an irritated groan.

“Just bring me the book please?”

Puffing out air Castin got up from bed “Fine. If you say so.” He shrugs crossing the room to get to her vanity. He picks up the book telling himself to not be disrespectful enough to sneak a peak.

“Can you close the window?” She requested since he was up now.

Agreeing since he too was cold Castin made the extra journey to close the window before he noticed that the fire was low in the fireplace.

“Hey that fire is getting kinda low don’t you think?” He pondered out loud. “Where do you keep the wood?”

Raising her arm she pointed towards the corner closest to the fireplace her eyes not leaving her book once it was handed to her.

Castin hurriedly tended to the fire wanting to get back to bed since his alcoholic buzz left his system completely now. He turns but the way that the moon light casted itself over his wife caught his attention and he couldn’t but to see her in all of her glory.

“My Goddess…” he gawked his mind already capturing and saving the image to his memory like a camera. “Now that’s a view worth getting outta bed for.”

Out of anger and loss of dignity Omorose kicked her leg up at a certain angle getting water all over Castin landing her into a predicament that from sour to sweet.

For the past few months, she's been working so hard to keep the wall she built up between her and Castin.

A wall she knowingly built brick by brick after each distasteful encounter she had with the army commander to protect her, her feelings, and her time. A wall that was crumbling slightly as she watched him, her newly married husband, and his hard exterior fall in front of her as he asked her

"Please just tell me why do you hate me?"

Her heart softened just a bit at his cracked exterior but she hid it behind her voice as she spoke "So the embarrassing me with the lingerie gift you gave me the time you ever met me slips your mind-"

Castin opened his mouth to speak but the fierce glare made the words he wanted to say faltered into sounds "I- sorry no! Go on." He apologized

"I've tried to get to know you Castin but each attempt showed me what type of man you are. A dipso, egotistical rake who hangs around degenerates who think and acts the same way! The way you automatically viewed me as an object you could have the pleasure of fucking! Why wouldn't I hate you?" Omorose wailed tearing her watery eyes away from Castin's crestfallen face.

The young wife hid her face back in her book shakily admitting

"Too many people-Men and women view me the same way...it's degrading to know that instead of acknowledging everything I've done, all that I have accomplished they-" Omorose bit her lip, pushing back the sob that almost slipped.

"I'm very well aware of the fact that people want me in their beds. It's hard not to notice Castin! I promised myself at the age of 15 that I would wait and fall in love with someone who wanted me entirely and not just for my body but I failed! I failed myself when I agreed to marry you for the sake of the new kingdom. And now I'm stuck being the trophy wife to a man that saw me as a glorified sex doll the first time he ever saw me! That's why I hate you."

Her words and the sound of her voice cracking broke Castin's heart. The last thing he wanted was to hurt the woman he was in love with and moving forward he would be damned if he knowingly did so.

Castin took a deep breath. Every word his wife whimpered out processing in his mind. "I-I'm really sorry." He apologized the words he wanted to say, the things he wanted to confessed jumbled in him.

"Can I just um... can I ju-just think for a second? Thanks." He asked catching a glimpse of Omorose's pretty honey-colored eyes gloss over with vulnerable tears that gathered at her water line.

He finally got his answer and it left him speechless, seeing her push back her tears over it left him aching.

He was among a group of people that Omorose loathed but had to silently deal with instead of the people she felt at peace with and that tore him apart inside.

"Look. That's not me! Okay. Ev-everything you said…that isn't me." He started

Omorose scoffed pulling her knees closer to her chest "That is not you? The man you've been since I met you isn't you?!" She rolled her eyes causing a single stream to fall down her face.

"No, no I-I know I-I know I have a reputation! Okay?

Th-th-the brawling, the drinking, and just…generally being a rake but, that's not me! Okay?" He stressed hoping she was listening to him and was actually taking his honest confession to heart. "That's not the man I want to be" he paused searching for a reaction but received none. "Look I-I know I may not be explaining this well but," Castin's trailed off staring at the book cover held in Omorose's delicate hands. The ring on her finger shone under the dimmed light, the same one he placed there only a few hours ago catching his eye.

'Rhett is right.seems like he's always right. Castin thought, thinking back to the advice Rhett gave him before ordering him up to his new room in the palace.

"Drop the manly Intacian act. Be yourself Castin!

That is exactly what won me the Queen's heart, and it can be the same for you."

Taking another deep breath Castin prepared to drop the one thing he felt protected behind, the wall that shielded him these past years, all in hopes that Omorose his wife saw him in a different light.

"You know I really did read that book. When I was a kid...I wasn't just-trying to have something to say…okay? I-I really like that stuff." He awkwardly stated.

Omorose peaked over her book after listening to Castin struggle with his words and it made his heart skip a beat.

"Look I don't know how to explain it alright. I just feel like there's me everyone else sees and then there's the me that's really.me and the me that everyone else sees I hate it okay? I'm not that guy!" He admits feeling a wave of mixed emotions wash over him.

"Then why do you act like that? Why pretend to be someone you hate?" Omorose questions putting the book down entirely. Wanting to understand why someone would torture themselves like that.

"Because I-... I-I don't know. I was different when I was I-I was like you and then being a warrior in Intacia i-it's it's just different. You have to be strong and respected. You have to fit in." He explained feeling slightly smaller under her stare.

"Look! It's all really confusing to me... but every time I look at you it's clear. The man that I want to be is the exact type of man you would fall in love with. You remind me of everything I really care about of-of who I was back then- n-no no of the man I know I still am.

I-I just need your help."

Omorose felt her eyes soften at the stuttered admission, the honesty in his voice and the look in his eyes shined a new light over him. She cast her gaze to the ceiling contemplating whether she could forgive him and let go of her grudge she had against or not.

"I-Look, I know I screwed up. I'm used to charming people to get my way and I tried to do it with you with all the gestures and all the flirting and I'm sorry.

That's not who I want to be anymore." Castin said following her gaze

"Hey look at me. I want to change." He says looking into her eyes once she looked back at him.

"For you. I just need you to show me how. Just please give me a chance." Castin begged, moving closer to Omorose who's heart speed up as her husband leaned in to kiss her.

The Baroness has never been in such an intimate moment before, she guarded herself well before getting married and now without any experience or idea of what to do in that moment besides kissing him, she felt even more vulnerable. And when he whispered that he wanted more against her plump lips she felt a flutter in her tummy. A mixture of excitement and anxiety as her smothered voice asked "sex" between kisses.

"No! No! I don't mean like that. I mean-" he broke into a light-felt chuckle " No I do want you like that. I really do but, I-I don't just want to you physically okay? I-I love you an-and before we do anything I need to know that you're really into trying to make Because if you're not and this is just some heat of the moment thing for you then I-I can't cause it's not just that for me and I don't think it ever will be... so please don't go through with this and then hurt my feelings later."

Omorose could feel it in her heart that she forgave him right then and there in his vulnerable state, asking her not to hurt his feelings and string him along. Something she would ask something she would say.

"Are you for real about this? Am I your husband or just some warrior the Queen forced you to marry-"

Omorose stepped out of her character, reaching up to grab Castin's face to kiss him. It surprised him for a second, feeling her soft lips on his. Though a bold action he could still tell that it was a shy gesture.

"You and me," Castin said pulling away and placing a kiss on Omorose's forehead. "Let's just start over?"

He smiled softly going in for a kiss

"Okay." Omorose softly agreed.

[lepreuxchevalier]

"Magnus Williamson, Le Dauphin de Viennois et Le Héritier Présomptif du Royaume d'Aquitaine" delivering his final judgement on "Edward Fitzroy, Titular Duke of Huntington" over the controversy of the illegitimate conception with his youngest daughter "Princesse Emily Williamsdottir, La Duchesse de Bourbon" at "La Cour Royale de La Monarchie Aquitainienne et de Maison Williamson" at "Le Palais de Fontainebleau" in Couronne, Aquitaine, best summarized:

[textualviolence]

like truly the "all women are essentially the same" underlying rhetoric that is absolutely a foundational tenet of radical feminism even when it isn't expressed is what leads to this incomprehensible and vitriolic anger towards women who refuse to see themselves as part of that coherent whole and decide they have a different relationship to themselves their lives & their oppression than simply angry/weeping victim of the patriarchy.

Its what leads swerfs who claim they care about the rights and well being of sex workers more than anyone else, making horrifyingly vitriolic posts about those same women using terms like "used holes" and "disease ridden" and disregarding those women's testimonies their autonomy and the information they have to contribute if they have the gall to declare that they are going to stay in the sex industry because its what they see as their best option for financial independence.

Its why they accept trans men but reject trans women, so long as they can view trans men under the guise of "uwu poor victim so traumatized by the patriarchy they can't even tolerate being seen as a woman, who can blame them". Women are all victims, the same victim, all the trauma of misogyny and patriarchal control is shared, emotionally, and we've all responded to it pretty much the same way, nothing else ever shaped our lives in a way that was more meaningful. We are the same woman, and individuals who act like its not the case or break my illusion of that are insane brainwashed empty headed little girls, unable to think for themselves, inexplicably so desperate for male attention they'll willingly accept indignities and suffering and violence for no discernible reason. They're insane, their autonomy doesn't exist, and their worldview isn't worth listening to.

[thepurplelovewitch]

I’d love a Christmas horror movie with hammer horror meets Black Christmas vibes 🎄

[lightningarmour]

Finally got caught up on Black Hammer after having lost track of it years ago and good god did that turn into a load of shit or what.

I don't know if Jeff Lemire just fell too in love with his own world building or if Dark Horse asked him to just keep churning that garbage out after the original run of the series was so popular, but god damn that sucked ass.

Like straight up nobody should keep reading anything "From the world of Black Hammer" after the end of Age of Doom. That ties the whole plot off neatly enough. The Colonel Weird and Barbalien mini series are good but also completely self contained. Everything beyond that is hot garbage.

I find it so funny going back and reading interviews with Lemire back when he was first doing Black Hammer and saying how he wanted the series to be a commentary on superhero comics, not just another superhero comic but damn he sure did just go and create his own little superhero universe complete with retcons and stupid crossover bullshit and everything huh.

[homosfuck]

uhhhh idk

[graphicpolicy]

Dark Horse presents the World of Black Hammer Omnibus Volume 2

Dark Horse presents the World of Black Hammer Omnibus Volume 2 #comics #comicbooks

Dark Horse Books presents a new collection of the Black Hammer saga in the World of Black Hammer Omnibus Volume 2! The latest Black Hammer omnibus collects The Quantum Age and Black Hammer ’45 together in one affordable omnibus volume. These stories are written by Jeff Lemire and Ray Fawkes, with interior art by Wilfredo Torres and Matt Kindt, colors by Dave Stewart and Sharlene Kindt, and cover…

[s0dium]

Stalker

A/n: I hope you enjoy

Warning: Stalker!Gojo, dub con, fingering, pussy drunk Gojo, unprotected sex, peeping tom, male masturbation, breeding

As the strongest sorcerer alive, Gojo Satoru knows he should be the epitome of justice, the defender of what's right. So out of all people Gojo Satoru should know that what he is doing is wrong. Very wrong.

Yet despite this he cant help but be drawn to you, linger around you, stalk you. He finds himself drawn to the places you frequent, learning the rhythm of your life, memorizing the small details that make you, you. The coffee shop where you start your morning, the park bench where you read during your lunch break, the dimly lit street you walk down on your way home. In his mind, a narrative builds—a story where he is a part of your world, where his presence matters to you as much as yours has inexplicably come to matter to him.

For a time, Gojo convinces himself that he can be satisfied merely as a shadow in your life, lingering on the periphery, unseen yet ever-present. But as each day passes, witnessing your coworker's blatant glances towards you, Jesus, the short skimpy clothes you wear, the delicate balance begins to fracture. The urge to step out from the shadows and into the light is starting to grow to hard to resist.

The tension reaches its crescendo one evening as he watches from your window—a routine that has become his dark solace. You're preparing for bed, the familiar motions shadowed in the dim light. As you slip under the covers, a sudden sound pierces the silence: moans, soft and whining, drift through the air.

Are you, touching yourself?

Gojo freezes, his heart stuck in his throat. He doesnt know what to do. The sound of your moans cuts through the stillness, sending his heart into a frantic rhythm and hout blood coursing to his dick.

"Fuck." He groans, feeling his member strain against his black pants. His resolve is slowly snapping by the second. With a mixture of urgency and caution, he silently eases the window open and slips into the room.

Shit shit shit.

He approaches your bed, his breath is held tight in his chest as he takes in the sight before him. Your face is contorted in pleasure, lips slightly parted, a soft pant escaping them—each detail more intoxicating than the last. Under the covers your hand shifts, fingers moving back and forth. His heart hammers against his ribs, disbelief mingling with raw emotion as he realizes you're completely absorbed in your own world, unaware of his presence.

It's not until he looms over you that you finally sense another presence, snapping your eyes open to gasp, "Who are you?"

"Shhh baby I'm not here to hurt you I promise," Gojo whispers, a gentle yet firm assurance in his tone, "I'm here to help you okay? You can call me Satoru."

Confusion flickers across your face as you stammer, "What I don't—" Your instinct is to retreat, but he gently pins you down, his hands firm yet careful.

"It's okay, it's okay, baby," he soothes, his tone meant to calm and reassure you in the soft darkness.

Unsure why, you find yourself yielding to the comforting timbre of his voice, allowing him to press tender, feathery kisses along your chin.

"I'm gonna make you feel better better ok?" He hums and you're too engrossed in the feeling of his kisses on your skin that you barely notice he is pulling your underwear down your legs.

"Wait, i don't, this is-" you stutter but your words melt away as soon as you feel his warm touch on your stomach. Shit, you know you should resist, you know how wrong this is—a stranger in your room, touching you in such an intimate manner. Yet, there he is, devastatingly handsome under the shadowy caress of the night, his piercing blue eyes locking with yours, filled with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. His voice, smooth and soothing, weaves through the thick air, and despite the alarm bells ringing in your mind, you're desperate for the relief he seems to offer.

You sharply gasp when you feel him slide a long finger between the lips of your cunt, collecting your juices before bringing them up to your sensitive clit.

"Already so wet aren't you."

Without a warning, Gojo slips a finger into your gummy walls and curls toward your belly button.

"M'Satoru!" You gasp. The foreign intrusion knocks the wind out of you and your hips instinctively buck into the air, your toe-curling from the sudden pleasure. You dont know it but Gojo is struggling to maintain his composure as well. The reality of your whines, the softness of your insides, surpasses even the wildest of his fantasies.

"This is bad baby, really bad, I don't think I can just touch you here." Gojo chokes out with a groan.

You dumbly nod, too lost in the pleasure to notice the unbuckling of Gojo’s pants. The pressure of his fat tip against your quivering hole is exhilarating and you can’t help but hold your breath as he finally pushes in. You let out a loud moan when you feel his tip smush against your cervix once he gets down to the last inch.

"Ah-Ah ah oh god," Gojo groans. He mentally curses himself that he could ever think his hand could replace the feeling of your cunt. "You feel good baby? Because I feel so good, you feel so good." Gojo is babbling now as he thrusts in and out of you.

You had no strength to answer him, only offering wanton moans in retort as he continued to wreck your body with his completely brutal thrusts. The pain of him hitting the tip of your cervix nearly every time mixed his messy kisses on your mouth made your brain grow light and fuzzy.

Gojo thinks that if there is a heaven, this is surely it. All those times watching you, following you home, fantasizing about this exact moment—none of it prepared him for the overwhelming reality of being inside you, of fucking you. He can practically feel your heartbeat sync with his, the sheer intensity of this connection he had desired since he laid eyes on you made him realize something he never did before; he needs you all to himself. forever.

Gojo uses you like his personal cock sleeve, shapes your insides and bruises your cervix until your entire body jolts with sensitivity; ripping orgasm after orgasm from you. His balls slap against your ass with every drop and he retracts his hips until the tip pokes out to admire the sheen dripping to his base before fitting himself back into your snug walls and spilling ropes upon ropes of cum into your womb

Your body trembled from the overwhelming hotness and he smoothed a hand over your bloating stomach.

“Shhh, take it. Take it all,” he crooned.

[yandere-writer-momo]

Thinking about a yandere werewolf, but not just any werewolf… a bounty hunter. And he has it bad for his you. Cowboy Werewolf!

Yandere Shorts: Like I Love You

Yandere werewolf x fem reader

TW: obsession, delusional themes, abo dynamic, horror, gore (mentioned), death of characters, neglectful husband, betrayal, cheating husband, forced relationship, mention of baby trapping, and behavior that should not be romanticized

Rolfe was currently on a hunt… his target is a sickly preacher’s, one that should be easy enough. Her own husband had paid him quite the pretty penny to off her. Poor little lamb didn’t stand a chance in the wilderness of this world. Not when she had enemies close to her side such as an unfaithful husband and a conniving best friend. He almost felt sorry for his prey

He arrived a day later, his clawed fingers dragged through a lock of her hair as he inhaled her scent. She smelled… delicious. And she was so vulnerable too with her nape out that just begged for his teeth to be driven into…

Rolfe shook his head before he went back into a trance when she subconsciously leaned into his touch. His hand moved up and grazed her temple that felt as if it were ablaze. Poor woman had a fever…

“Darling? Did you finally come to me?” Her voice was a bit delirious with sickness as she kissed his hands. Each kiss made him feel as if he was her beloved. It took everything in him not to loudly whine like a dog. “I missed you so much James. I’m sorry I got sick again.”

Rolfe didn’t say a word before he continued to drag his rough palms through her hair. His heart hammered in his chest and his wolf clawed inside his brain to be released. It seemed this woman before him… was his fated mate.”

Rolfe bent down and buried his nose into the crook of her neck to deeply inhaled. Oh yes… this lassy was his for the takin.

Rolfe began to slowly nurse her back to health rather than off her. An action that made his employer question him. Why on earth would a monster nurse such a nuisance back to health? She was always near death’s door. What use was such a delicate woman in the Wild West?

“When are you going to off (your name)? She’s an easy target.”

“I have honor as a bounty hunter. It must be a hunt.” Rolfe snarled at (your name)’s husband, James, the man who dared to keep her sick due to his lack of care. Had that scrawny man have no pride as a man? The pastor made him sick.

“She’s easy to pick off right now. I’d really like this to be over and done with so I can marry Helen. This is why I hired a monster-“ Rolfe picked James up from the ground by his throat as James gasped for air.

“You are a foolish, greedy man. Are you sure you are truly a man of god?” Rolfe growled, showing his fangs. His dark, muscular form largely towered over James’s lithe frame. “You’re a pathetic man.”

Rolfe soon went back to the care of (your name). The werewolf rubbed his cheeks all over her bed and her body to scent her… he needed to get rid of James’s scent. Rolfe wouldn’t let another have her and hurt her again… he’d spirit her away.

Rolfe wondered how many pups she’d want. If they’d be pretty like her but strong like him… if she’d pepper him with nips and kisses everyday. If she’d beg him for his knot on the next full moon as he properly mated her?

“Darling?” (Your name) reached for his face and Rolfe was quick to put his face in them. A needy whine escaped his throat while he nuzzled her. She was his precious mate…

He snarled when he saw Helen enter. The woman scoffed at him in disgust.

“Ugh. James and I are tired of waiting. You have been here over a month! We want you gone beast. We’ll do it ourselves.”

“So you’re cancelling the contract?” He hummed while he continued to tenderly kiss (your name)‘a palms. “Are you sure? Did you read the fine print?”

“Yes. We don’t need your kind here, true love will prevail-“ Helen didn’t even have time to scream before a giant black wolf hybrid had dug it’s fangs into her throat and ripped it apart like wrapping paper. Blood splattered all over the floor and walls as Helen could only helplessly choke on her own blood.

“Yes… true love will prevail.” He muttered with a a satisfied hum. “My mate will be so happy.”

Meanwhile, James fled into the forest for dear life. That beast had gotten Helen! The two of them couldn’t believe the werewolf would turn on him.

James loudly leapt when he heard something large chase him through the underbrush on all fours. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears and feel his sweat pool down his back in puddles. He needed to get to the church! A demon such as the bounty hunter couldn’t possibly enter there-

But James was knocked to the ground as an agonized shriek fell from his lips. The werewolf began to shake and mangle his leg like the bloodthirsty beast it was…

“Let me go! Let me go! I didn’t do anything-“

Rolfe chuckled darkly. The black werewolf dropped his legs and glanced his beastly head at James. “Oh but she never did anything either… all she did was foolishly love you.”

“W-what do you mean? Are you talking about-“ James’s words were muffled by the paw like hand that covered his mouth. Rolfe shushed him.

“Shhh. You may have failed to pay me and cancel my contract but I had gotten something far more valuable from this transaction. Something most werewolves dream to find in their lifetimes… a fated mate!” Rolfe sighed dreamily. “You may have failed as a protector and provider, but I surely won’t! You have given me something more valuable than any coin could offer… yet you were neglectful to her. Such a shame really.”

“I… I’ll do anything! Just take her and let me live.”

“Ah but I can’t do that. Not when she still calls for you at night. No… you have to be eliminated. Destroyed, really. You can no longer exist on the same planet as her! You are in the way of my love!”

Loud screams of terror ringed out throughout the crisp night air and then it was silence.

Rolfe returned hours later scrubbed clean of blood while he crawled into the bed with his darling mate. He sighed in contentment when she cuddled him. Yes… it may take time to train her properly, but he was sure he could do it. He could make her love him. Just like he loved her.

[theealluringstoryteller]

Against The World Around Us

Chapter 6

The morning sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon. The newly weds’s bedroom still dark and cool from when the fire finally blew as they slept. Despite the peaceful setting and the warm soft body laying beside him Castin rouse from bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and stretching his muscles, groaning when they tended and quickly relaxed.

He had one thing on his mind and needed to be up before the sun to complete it. The mission at hand? Courting his wife. Something he foolishly ignored whilst trying to impress the Baroness through his flirting and showboating. Something she refused to allow him to do when he realized she wasn’t so easily impressed. He couldn’t blame her now, not after learning what he had the night before. If he was in her shoes he too would’ve ignored himself.

Removing the plush comforter that smelled heavily of Chamomile, an instant chill made Castin shiver. Peering over at his wife he noticed how snuggled up she was beneath the thick cover and knew she had to be freezing. It didn’t help that she wore a tiny little nighty to bed, Castin knew it wasn’t for him after he jokingly asked and she quickly shot him down with

“I just forgave you for your bullshit don’t flatter yourself with thinking I would even allow you to kiss my ass.”

Fulfilling one of his many task and duties as a husband he made his way to the fireplace to start another fire to warm the room. Once that task as completed he went and got ready for the day. Brushing his teeth, washing his face. Pulling on a simple shirt and pants before getting through everything else he needed to feel ready for the day he was about to have once he stepped outside of his now bedroom.

The sky was now a dark blue, the dark black sky fading as the sun continued to rise. Castin softly shut the door behind him, shuffling down the halls till he was at the door of the only person who could help him properly court his wife.

His knuckles knocked on the wood loudly to get the attention of no one other than Nina.

The door almost flew off their hinges at the speed Nina opened the door, mouth twisted and eyes dark with daggers.

“The hell do you want, boy? It’s early in the morning! The audacity you have.” Nina hissed wrapping her robe closer to her body and securing it with her arms crossed over her chest.

“I need your help…I know you’re the last person willing but it’s for Omorose-”

“Rosie? What did you do? Is she hurt?” Nina questioned pushing forward to race from her room to Omorose’s.

“What? No! She’s fine! Still asleep, unharmed-”

“So the manwhore of Intacia didn’t try anything with his bride last night?” Nina casted a disbelieving look towards Castin.

“No! I mean we shared a couple of kisses in the bathtub-”

“Bathtub?! She allowed you in the tub with her?”

“Not exactly-”

Castin’s head swiftly jerked to the side, a stinging sensation lit his nerves on fire as he hissed out "shit!"

"you got in against her will? Bastard! who raised you?"

Rubbing smoothing circles onto his cheek Castin let let a groan.

"So she got the slapping from you. Good to know."

Nina 'tsked' shaking her head as Castin attempted to gather himself and what he wanted to say.

"I want to begin to Court Omorose-”

"Court? She's already your wife, despite how foolish that decision was."

"Yes! But I'm the only happy about that and even though she forgave me last night I feel like our relationship will go no where unless I do this."

Letting out a tired sigh Nina huffed out "Fine."

"Great! Tell me everything I need to do to woo Rosie-”

"Firstly it's Omorose to you! you're not on that personal level to call her Rosie. Secondly you could’ve asked her- it would’ve showed her that you cared and wanted to actually build up a relationship but since you came to me I’ll give you all the details.”

Omorose ignored the stares and whispers as she made her way through the Garden to find shade. The sun was shining bright and warmed the air to the point where it felt dry but, outside felt better than inside. That was one thing she was definitely going to miss about the Empire. Central air conditioning. The closet thing she’ll feel is shade underneath a thick tree.

“Ooooweeee! As hot as it is out where you just made it even more hot!… Giving me fever!” A single man from a group snickered. Omorose rolled her eyes tucking a strand of curly hair that escaped from her updo she managed to styled her hair into that morning.

“Does your husband now that you stepped out looking this…tempting Baroness?” Another asked as they began crowding around the small stone bench that was conveniently located under the perfect tree that provided cool shade.

“He’s my husband not my owner.”

“What you ever you say Darlin’ but, word on the street is you’re just a little war prize the King gifted to the commander”

Achiling sick feeling rushed over the Baroness but she forced herself to keep a cool and collected demeanor, taking a breath Omorose elegantly placed the book she was reading on her lap and crossed her hands over it.

“A war prize?” She repeated as if she heard a bad joke.

“I wonder if the King and Queen knows that their people are going around making them look dishonest and un honorable.”

“I’m just the messenger! Right fellas?”

The men behind him grumbled and nodded in agreement backing the ring leader.

“So you felt the need to come over here and attempt to degrade me?”

“You’re just so darn beautiful! Just wanted a bit of your attention.”

“Oh you don’t want my attention I promise you.” She faked a smile and a sweet tone.

“What man doesn’t want the attention of a pretty woman.” The ring leader went on.

“Don’t be foolish. Many creatures always fall prey to pretty things.”

“Threatening us Baroness.” The ring leader scoffed.

“I don’t threaten. I do my due diligence and simply warn which is where my kindness ends.”

“Alright! Alright! We can respect that! Right men?”

“Respect what?” A loud curious voice questioned behind the group of men.

Quickly the men straightened up and nodded in a quick bow.

“King Rhett!”

“Rhett!”

“Fine afternoon am I right?”

Rhett ignored the men looking passed them to give the Baroness a look.

“Are they bothering you, Baroness?”

Omorose shrugged her shoulders “Oh they were just telling me how pretty I look.”

“Yeah! Just giving compliments where they are due.” Chirped the ring leader putting on a bright smile.

“But not before informing me how dishonest and un honorable you are as a man and as a king.”

Furrowing his eye brow Rhett in a disbelieving and unamused way asked “What?”

“Yes! Go ahead and explain it to him since you’re just the messenger.”

The ring leader felt his confidence crumble under Rhett’s glare.

“We-we just-just wanted to have a bit of the Baroness’s attention! Everyone talks about her all the time-”

“About how I’m a war prize right! Isn’t that ‘the word on the street’?”

“War prize?” Rhett scoffed his glare becoming harsher.

“Now you said that I would be equal to Castin. That this marriage is supposed to help bridge our countries together but lo and behold I’m a war prize…property. I didn’t know Intacian men see their women so lowly-” Omorose went on in a faux hurt tone and expression.

“We don’t!” Rhett assures not letting up on his glare on the three men. “You three! Who told you such a thing?”

The three stumbled and stuttered for an answer showing how cowardly they are within seconds.

“When you find the answer me and the Commander would like a word. You’re dismissed.”

Watching the three scramble away with their ‘tails’ between their legs Rhett begins to apologize.

“No need. I know Aurelia would never put me in such a situation.”

Chuckling Rhett made his over to the Bench “May I?” He asked politely pointing to the empty space.

Omorose wordlessly gestured for him to take a seat moving aside a bit more so he could have more space.

“So did Castin apologize to you last night?”

Humming Omorose nod her head, looking down. “He opened up. Wants to be the man I would fall in love with.”

Taken back from what was just said Rhett couldn’t help but, to let out an “Oh!?”

“Yeah. Admitted to having to pretend to be someone he isn’t in order to fit into what Intacia believes a man should be but if that’s the case how are you able to be this way while Castin is…is-”

“To be honest I too had to drop the manly Intacian act! It’s just I wasn’t afraid to hide The real me after I did so but, I wasn’t bullied like your husband was.”

‘Bullied’ she thought, her tapping on the book cover paused as she thought back on to her childhood. Her mother was her first bully but she still managed not to be such an asshole to others.

“That got you lost in thought? I’m sure Castin doesn’t want you to fall so sympathetic over his past-”

“I’m not! Where is he anyway? He wasn’t there when I woke up?” Omorose curiously asked turning her head to peer at Rhett.

“Missing him already?” He shot her a teasing smile.

‘Tsk!’ Fell from her lips as she rolled her eyes. “The king being humorous! How cute.” She huffs moving her gaze to the garden that was spotlighted by the sun.

“I thought it was weird that he disappeared after his rather intimate confession and genuine apology- he told me he loved me.”

“Oh damn he really took my advice.” Rhett laughed in disbelief.

“Advice?”

“Told the stubborn man to drop the manly Intacian act! Seems like he finally listened.”

“Did you tell him to disappear afterwards too?” She questions trying to hide the pout that formed from the negative over thinking thoughts that began to form.

“You do miss him!” Rhett cheesed pointing at the look the Baroness held.

“It’s a day after the wedding and I’m spending it with men who flirt with me shamelessly and my so called husband’s best friend instead of him! People are going to talk! Image is everything! Especially for a politically arranged marriage.”

“Nah! Sounds like you miss me,Sweetheart.” Castin laughs making his way from behind the two.

In his hands he held a large bouquet of Peonies and a blue hardcover book that read ‘The Princess Bride’ in gold fancy font.

Castin let out a long whistle as he got a better look at Omorose. Checking her out he said “I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to call you my Wife.”

Omorose raised an eyebrow as Castin presented his gifts. “Pretty flowers in her honor and a book for when you finish that on in what…an hour.” He held up the hard cover of ‘The Princess Bride’ to show her but, she could barely see it over the massive bouquet that nearly covered her sitting figure, Castin had to bite back his laughter at how adorable she looked holding the massive bundle.

“So I was wondering if I could…ask you to dinner? Tonight?”

The bundle of flowers were moved to the side nearly knocking Rhett onto the ground. “What are you- are you trying to court me?” Omorose was a little shocked, a hand flying to her imaginary pearls to clutch as she looked up at her husband who smiled dumbly and nodded ‘yes’

“I meant what I said last night! I want to be the man you would fall in love with and I imagine that man would court you to get to know you…right?”

“Yes typically he would court me.” She shrugs in a slight awkward manner. This was the first time she actually had to seriously accept someone’s courting request and funny enough it would be someone she’d marry just the day before. “These flowers are gorgeous!You’d didn’t have too.” She states smiling brightly, standing, the hem of her short dress flowed just below her ass giving everyone the chance to see her lovely legs that appeared longer because of the dress and her heels she chose for the day.

Hungry eyes trailed over the expose flesh before meeting the owner’s eyes once again.

“So yes?”

“I’ve already said ‘I Do’ Castin! Of course I will go to dinner with you.” She said in a ‘duh’ tone, a small giggle at the whole ordeal escaping her.

Biting his bottom lip Castin willed himself to ignore the flutter he felt at hearing her giggle. A giggle he caused.

Rhett watched the two gathering intel to gossip about with his wife later on. Rhett hasn’t seen Castin look so awkward and hopeful and then joyful like a 13 year old boy asking a girl out for the first time and getting a ‘yes.’

“Great! I’ll pick you up at 7-”

“You’re taking this a bit too seriously.” Omorose stated looking towards Rhett to back her up. “No?” She ponders when she got no response from Rhett.

“You’re going to ‘pick me up’ from our shared room in the palace?”

“Girl let me show you that my mama raised me right!” Castin laughs taking the flowers off her hands.

“Now please allow me to escort you back to our room, Dear. So you can get ready for our night together.” Castin offered in a choppy poor imperial accent.

Omorose cringed and shook her head, a sour look on her face. “You hear how good I sound? How it just rolls off my tongue all sweet and thick like honey?”

Dumbly in a love sick goof way Castin nods smiling dazed by her with cheerful joking tone, his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Only one of us sounds good.” She states slowly turning towards Rhett and biding him farewell.

Rolling his eyes Castin too turned his gaze to Rhett mouthing ‘I’m growing on her’

“Have a good time you too!” Rhett smiled feeling a bit prideful of the pair he put together. He couldn’t wait to inform Aurelia everything he witnessed and heard.

‘Knock! Knock!’ Sounded making Omorose roll her eyes in amusement while Nina rolled her eyes in a slight annoyance as she finished tying the corset top that went along with the matching skirt Omorose decided to wear.

“That boy child is really going through the effort. I hope his intentions are true.” Nina huffs tying it for the second time to secure the top.

“I think it is. He was so vulnerable that night-"

“Don’t be so easily manipulated! Men are aware of women’s nature and often take advantage.” Nina reminds her gesturing her to take a seat.

“Put on your shoes. I’ll get the door.”

The door opens to reveal a nicely dressed Castin who pridefully grinned “Is she almost ready?” He asked trying to peek into his shared room only to be blocked by a quick Nina.

“She’s just putting on her shoes.”

“Alright.”

Nina glanced behind her to the young woman she raised, seeing her make sure she looked picturesque in the mirror, twirling a little in her heels to make sure everything was in its proper place.

“She used to be my baby girl …now she’s your wife.” Nina pouts turning back to Castin.

“Don’t make her regret marrying you.”

Castin opened his mouth prepared to say something back but the words dwindled from his mind the moment Omorose stepped into view. She wore a pastel green floral printed two piece set that complimented everything about her. Her skin tone, her curves and the ultra feminine energy she projects. Her curly hair bushed out and parted down the middle giving the illusion of a soft cloud haloing around her. The gloss on her lips made him wish he could just fall into temptation and kiss her.

“Is it too much?” She questioned waiting for Castin to speak.

“For me too take? You’re just effortlessly…enchanting.”

“Sweet talking has never gotten anyone anywhere -”

“Yeah well I’m genuinely saying it as a man in love-”

“Who’s to say that the others weren’t in love as well?”

“Yet here I am the only one in front of you.”

“You can thank the Goddess for that-”

“And I do.”

Growing tired of their banter Nina piped up “Have a responsible night you two.” Squeezing between the threshold of the door and Omorose she cuts her eyes at Castin one last time in an act of intimidation. “Behave.” She warns right before she disappears down the hall.

Offering his arm“My lady…” Castin laughed in such a charismatic manner it caused a smile to erupt from Omorose, amused by his dramatic gesture.

“Alright ‘Lover Boy let’s go.”

A mixture or excitement and surprise poured out of Omorose in a squeal in the middle of the dance floor where Castin hoisted her up by the waist to spin her around. Their private dinner ended an hour ago the two tipsy newly weds decided on dancing as the chef finished making the dessert he profusely apologized for being late with.

“This night had been one of the best I’ve spent! Wished that I had dropped the ‘manly Intacian’ act a long time ago.” Castin admits in a whispering fit of laughter, lowering Omorose’s figure from the air, resting her against him so that they were faced to face.

“Can you imagine where we would be if we had gotten off on the right foot with each other?”

Castin’s eyes drifted off as if he was thrown into a daydream. “You’d be in love with me like I am in love with you…” avoiding her eyes he awkwardly said “Look I don’t care if it takes years for me to fix my mistakes. You’re the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

With her heart fluttering Omorose was at a loss for words. Her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

“And your sweet treat is ready!” A proud chef announced barging in with two plates in hand.

Seeing the two ‘love birds’ so close the chef took a step back not sure if he should give them privacy or dessert.

“Dessert!” Repeated Castin placing Omorose on her feet now.

“Oh yes! Thank you chef!” Omorose cleared her throat offering him a warm smile as the two made their way back to the table.

Sitting the two plates down the chef explained what it was just like how he did with the dinner he presented.

“A hazelnut cheesecake with a light drizzle of chocolate.”

“Looks amazing.”

“Thank you.”

Hand in hand the couple walks back to their room in comfortable silence till they stood in front of the door.

“I had a wonderful time tonight. You planned it perfectly.” Omorose complimented peering up at him with a smile grin.

“I like this side of you.” She adds.

This side was more of a goof but, charming and softer than the man she met at their engagement ceremony. He wasn’t like the men and women that pursued her in the Empire! They were so stand offish, so demanding and acted like a brick wall. They never considered her feeling or what she wanted. They all expected her to accept being a cookie cutter wife and Baroness that went along and endorse and support them while looking ‘pretty and proper’ as their trophy like how her mother was to her father.

“I’m glad you had a good time because I’m hoping the rest of our honeymoon is just like it.” Castin states leaning down to place a kiss on her forehead.

“We’re acting as if we are about to say goodbye to each other.” She snickers twisting the doorknob. Falling open she walked through the door towards her vanity chair where she plopped down and began taking off her heels.

Watching her for a minute straight Castin couldn’t help but, to smile to himself at how he managed to turn things around in such a short time.

“Do you want to bathe first or do you want to share like last night?” He joked finally entering the room.

[eu-nicola]

Morocco part 1

summary: Rafe says goodbye to Sofia and leaves her in outer banks while he goes to Morocco, where you are also and the danger that happens there rekindles the spark both of you thought had lost

warnings: mention of death, weapons, cheating, pregnancy, etc. only things of s4

word counter: 9000

author's note: spoilers of s4, many things have been changed but there are still spoilers, english is not my first language, this is long so get ready to read

There was a warm breeze blowing in from the ocean, bringing with it the smell of salt and adventure. You stood on the shore, watching the waves crash against the sharp, black rocks of the Outer Banks coastline. The sunset dyed the sky deep oranges and reds, painting long, brooding shadows across the sand. In the distance, the lighthouse flickered with its intermittent light, marking time. Your thoughts were filled with questions now that you were going to Morocco, and Rafe’s silhouette approaching along the wooden walkway only intensified that unease. 

Rafe had that look in his eyes that you had always found difficult to read, a mix of defiance and nonchalance that gave him an almost untouchable air. He walked with a confident gait, hands in his pockets, white shirt fluttering lightly in the wind. When he was close enough, you stopped, feeling tension take hold of your muscles. He noticed your expression and, without a word, stood beside you, staring out at the ocean as if you shared a secret that only he understood.

“How are you?” you asked, breaking the silence with a voice that sounded shakier than you had planned. It wasn’t a casual question; you both knew he was carrying a heavier weight. His eyes narrowed just a little, and after a moment that seemed like an eternity, he let out a sigh.

“Sofia is going to stay here,” he said suddenly, as if he had been waiting for you to ask. His words fell like stones to the bottom of your stomach, sinking you into a feeling of emptiness. “I didn’t want to risk taking my future wife to Morocco.”

It took your mind a while to process what he had just said, as if your brain had hit an unexpected wall. Future wife? The icy surprise ran across your skin, leaving you feeling cold in the stifling summer heat. You forced yourself to keep your composure, to not let the confusion become visible, but it was too late: Rafe was already watching you with that look that knew too much.

“Are you engaged?” you finally asked, trying to make your voice sound natural, but feeling the lump in your throat tighten a little more with each word. He gave you a slight smile, which barely curved his lips, but was reflected more intensely in his eyes.

“Yes,” he answered, and the weight of that simple statement crushed your chest. You looked back at the horizon, looking for a respite in the immensity of the sea. The waves continued to break, indifferent to human emotions, while you struggled to maintain the balance between surprise and the pain that you did not dare to let out.

Rafe nodded, his smile wider and more sincere than yours. “Thank you,” he said in a tone that revealed a kind of relief, as if he had been waiting for your reaction with hidden caution. There was a moment of silence, awkward and dense, in which neither of you moved or looked away from the ocean. The waves continued their eternal back and forth, and for a moment you wondered what it would be like to be anywhere else in the world, a place where Rafe’s words couldn’t reach you and where the echo of “future wife” didn’t resonate in your mind like a persistent hammering. 

The breeze blew harder, carrying with it the echo of distant laughter and the voices of seagulls, and as Rafe looked back out to sea, you felt everything moving around you, except you. 

You fell silent, allowing the sound of the sea and the wind to carry away the unspoken words. You didn't want to talk about Rafe's engagement anymore, or about Sofia, or what it meant to you. You had learned to swallow your emotions, to let them burn inside you until they became something more bearable, like ashes after a fire. So you didn't say anything. You just nodded almost imperceptibly and took a step back, as if you were walking away from a conversation that had already ended. 

Rafe watched you with fleeting curiosity, but he didn't insist. He, too, knew when it was best to leave things as they were. Without another word, he turned around and walked back along the same wooden path he had come by, his footsteps echoing in the increasingly dark afternoon. You stayed a few seconds longer, trying to let the cold in your chest dissipate and your breathing return to a normal rhythm. 

When you finally turned around, your thoughts were already far away from there, beyond the ocean, in the dunes of Morocco, in the legends surrounding the Blue Crown. That relic had been the center of stories and rumors among treasure-hunting circles, a lost jewel whose importance went beyond wealth: it was said to have the power to change the fate of whoever possessed it. And now, it was sought not only by you and Rafe, but also by the Pogues, and others. 

You had no time to be distracted, and you couldn't let your emotions prevent you from acting with the coolness that the situation required. You returned to your home where on the worn wooden table, the map of Morocco was spread out, with handwritten notes and markings indicating the places you had investigated before. You sat down, letting the weight of determination replace the pang of jealousy and disappointment you still felt. 

You looked through your things: an old compass that had belonged to your grandfather, oil lanterns, a sharp knife, and a copy of a manuscript with cryptic clues about the location of the Blue Crown, clothes, and a lot of money. 

As night fell over the Outer Banks and the stars began to twinkle in the sky, you promised yourself that you would find the Crown, no matter how many obstacles stood in your way. You weren’t interested in having it, but in what it took to have it, the deals you could make, and how proud your father would be if you did. It would be your victory, your vindication with your father after he nearly “killed” you when he found out you weren’t with Rafe anymore and you ruined his perfect life by not marrying a Cameron. You pushed those memories from your mind, focusing your eyes on the map and letting the adrenaline and obsession with the search take over. 

Tomorrow, everything would change.

The Moroccan sun was merciless, a golden blaze that seemed hell-bent on burning your skin and sapping every ounce of energy you had. The air was dry, with a hint of sand that seeped into your mouth and stuck to your skin. You walked through a bustling market, where the aromas of spices, leather, and sweat mingled in a heady, chaotic mix. Vendors shouted in Arabic and French, selling everything from hand-woven rugs to intricately detailed gold jewelry. Despite the fascination you could feel for the place, the heat made every step a struggle. 

“Damn heat,” you mutter as you wipe the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand. Your clothes, light but already soaked, clung to your skin uncomfortably. You were tired, overwhelmed, and everything seemed even more complicated in the middle of that maze of narrow streets. 

Behind you, you hear a low, familiar laugh. “Are you really complaining about the heat?” Rafe’s voice comes with a hint of sarcasm you know well. He’d joined the expedition at the last minute. He wore dark sunglasses and a smile that made him seem completely unfazed, even under the relentless desert sun. 

“It’s not that different from home,” he adds, raising an eyebrow and giving you a look that mixes defiance and complicity. His words hit you with an unexpected truth, and although you hate to admit it, you agree with a slight nod. 

“You’re right,” you acknowledge, trying not to show the irritation you felt. Outer Banks might be stifling, humid, and wild, but this dry, scorching heat had its own way of imposing itself. Still, the comparison was still valid. 

Rafe stops next to a stall where an old man sells copper and silver amulets. He takes one between his fingers, examining it with that calm attention he used to display before making a major move. His presence is as familiar as it is exasperating, a constant that forced you to stay alert.

“Don’t forget what we’re here for,” he murmurs without looking at you, as he returns the amulet to the old man with a polite smile. His words bring you back to the present, to the mission.

You take a deep breath, letting the warm air fill your lungs and force you to focus. “I never forget,” you reply, and although your words sound firm, you both knew that heat, distractions, and personal tensions were silent enemies.

Rafe smirks, a gesture that could be either respect or mockery. Then, without further ado, he walks into the crowd, motioning for you to follow him.

Hours later, night fell over Morocco with the speed of a closing curtain, leaving the air still warm and charged with the promise of new intrigue. The market streets, which during the day were a hive of life, were transformed into a labyrinth of shadows and flashing lights, where low-voiced conversations and distant laughter mingled with the hum of oil lamps. You found yourself in one of these streets, walking briskly alongside Rafe, whose eyes seemed to scan every corner, alert for any sign of movement.

You knew the Pogues were in town. They’d been following the treasure trail for almost as long as you had, and though your paths had crossed in the past, you’d never considered joining them. Until now.

“Are you sure about this?” you asked Rafe, feeling the weight of doubt like a stone in your stomach. It was an idea that had seemed absurd to you when it first came up, but the more you thought about it, the more logical it made. Two opposing forces joining forces for a common goal. But with Rafe, you could never be completely sure of anything.

Rafe cast a glance over his shoulder, his lips twisting into a smile that was more of a warning than a friendly gesture. “Relax. It suits them as much as it suits us.” You stopped at the edge of a crossroads, the yellowish light of a streetlamp illuminating half of his face and leaving the other half plunged into darkness. “Don’t worry so much, if there’s one thing I know about them it’s that they can’t resist an opportunity,” she added, lowering her voice and moving closer. 

The meeting was scheduled in an old warehouse near the port, a place where stacked wooden boxes and hanging ropes created a scene that seemed straight out of a pirate tale. The place smelled of salt and damp wood, and the echoes of the waves crashing against the docks filled the space with a constant murmur. When you arrived, the Pogues were already there, standing in a tense semicircle, exchanging glances and whispers. John B, with his disheveled hair and alert expression, was the first to spot you. Beside him, Sarah tensed her jaw at the sight of Rafe, and you couldn’t blame her. The wounds between them ran deep, scars that would take a while to heal, if they ever did. 

“What are you doing here?” JJ’s voice was the first to break the silence. His eyes, normally full of spark and humor, were now hard as steel. Kie stood beside him, arms crossed and an expression that clearly said he didn’t trust what was happening.

Rafe raised his hands, as if to show he had no ill intentions. “Relax. We’re not here to fight. We’re here to help.”

“Help?” John B repeated the word as if it were a joke, and a bitter laugh escaped his throat. “Why the hell should we trust you?”

“You shouldn’t,” you intervened, taking a step forward. All eyes fell on you, and you felt the weight of uncertainty in each gaze. “But if we want to find the Crown before others do, we have no choice. Rafe and I know things, we have clues that can lead us to it. And you also have information that we need.”

There was a moment of tense silence. Eyes met, searching for answers that neither was willing to give. Pope was the first to move, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes as if he were assessing the situation. “What kind of information?” he finally asked, his tone calculating and full of caution.

Rafe smiled, and you knew he’d been waiting for that question. “We know the last clue leads to a site in the Atlas Mountains. But it’s not a place you can get to with maps and courage alone. You need someone who knows the terrain, and we just happen to have people who do.”

Kie let out a sigh, lowering her arms and casting a quick glance at her friends. “It’s crazy,” she muttered, though there was a glint in her eyes that suggested the idea, as dangerous as it was, intrigued her.

John B gritted his teeth, his gaze shifting from you to Rafe, then to his friends. There was a decision to be made, and you both knew it. Finally, he nodded, though not willingly. “Okay, but if this is a trap…”

“It’s not,” you interrupted. And though your words were firm, you knew that everyone there had reasons to doubt. The alliance was not perfect, and past scars still hurt. But in the search, distrust would be a luxury they could not afford.

Rafe crossed his arms, pleased, and looked at John B with a flash of defiance. “Then we better get started. The mountains aren’t going to wait for us.”

The group exchanged glances, a tacit agreement that felt like a leap into the dark.

Dawn in Morocco came with unexpected warmth, as if the sun had risen early with the sole purpose of testing everyone’s patience. The souk, which had just awakened with the first light, was filled with life in a matter of minutes: merchants displayed their wares, children ran through the alleys, and the air was filled with the aroma of spices and freshly baked bread. The relative calm of the morning didn’t last long.

It had been barely two days since you formed that precarious alliance with the Pogues and, as you feared, things quickly went awry. You weren’t sure what exactly had caused the chaos – whether it was Rafe trying to “get information” the way he usually did, or whether it was an unfortunate run-in with another group of treasure hunters who had gotten wind of the treasure. The truth was that you now found yourself running at full speed between clay buildings and narrow alleys, the sound of your footsteps echoing off the walls as the screams and curses of your pursuers filled the air behind you. 

“Rafe! This is madness!” you shouted as you dodged a fruit stand that you nearly knocked over in your wake. Oranges rolled across the ground, and the merchant let out an enraged scream that was lost in the melee. Rafe, running beside you with a grin that bordered on reckless, barely turned to look at you. 

“Calm down, I’ve got it under control!” he replied in a tone that made you want to punch him in the midst of all the confusion. The shadow of a smile remained on his face, as if this was all just a game and not a race to keep his skin intact.

“You better fix it, Rafe!” you roared, feeling the burn in your legs and the metallic taste of effort in your mouth. “I wanted at least a couple of good days in Morocco!” You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a moment of true tranquility, and in that instant, the desire for everything to be different mixed with the adrenaline that drove you to keep running. 

Rafe let out a laugh, one you didn’t know whether to admire or detest. “Good days? That’s not part of the deal, friend.” His words seemed laden with irony, but also with a truth that stuck in you like a thorn. 

You turned a corner and felt the sunlight hit you directly in the face, blinding you for a crucial second. You staggered and almost fell when you tripped on a small step, but Rafe grabbed your arm and pushed you forward without stopping. The footsteps behind you were getting closer, and you could hear shouts in Arabic that, although you didn’t fully understand, made it clear that the intentions were anything but friendly.

“To the right!” Rafe shouted, letting go of you and pointing down a side street that seemed narrower than the one before. Without thinking, you turned, your heart pounding in your chest like a crazed drum. The alley narrowed even further, and the terracotta-colored walls seemed to close in around you. You could feel the adrenaline bubbling through your veins, sweat soaking through your shirt, and the sound of the chase ringing in your ears as a constant reminder of how close they were.

Suddenly, a thud to your left caught your attention: John B and JJ had emerged from a hidden passage, expressions mixing surprise and relief at seeing you. “What the hell did they do now?!” JJ shouted, a spark of reproach in his eyes.

“This isn’t the time for details,” you replied between gasps, and without stopping, you walked past them, followed by Rafe, who still had that impassive smile.

“We have to split up,” John B said, taking the lead and pointing with a sharp gesture. “We’ll meet at the meeting point! Go that way!” And before you could answer, he and JJ disappeared into another narrow passage, like moving shadows.

You and Rafe kept running, the chase now divided and the sound of footsteps diminishing. The alley opened up into a small square, where the midday shadows were deeper. There, you leaned against a wall, trying to catch your breath and process what had just happened.

Rafe glanced at you, his breathing ragged but a spark of excitement in his eyes. “You see,” he said, wiping the sweat from his brow with a quick gesture, “this is what makes everything more interesting.”

You looked at him, feeling a mixture of exasperation and a strange camaraderie wash over you. Maybe he was crazy, or maybe you were crazy for keeping up with him.

After the chase, everything had calmed down, they continued doing their thing during the day and at night when they went to rest at a place where they were staying while you slept you were startled by a thud in the next room. You barely had time to stand up when the door was flung open and a tall man, with scars on his face and eyes as dark as night, pointed a gun at you. “Not a single move, girl,” he hissed in broken English, the threat in his voice as clear as the gun in his hand.

Rafe, who was in the other room, burst in without a second thought. The fight was quick, a clash of bodies and blows that echoed in the small room like war drums. With your heart racing, you searched for something, anything to defend yourself, and your fingers found an old metal lamp. You didn’t think about it. With all the strength you could muster, you threw it at the intruder’s head, the metallic sound echoing as it hit him and sent him reeling.

“Get out!” Rafe shouted, his voice a roar that snapped you out of your trance. You moved toward the door as he finished subduing the intruder. Outside, the streets were deserted, a blanket of silence that was almost as dangerous as the bustle of the crowd. You knew they couldn’t stay there. They had to move.

The next day, things only got worse. Despite having agreed on a meeting point with the Pogues, the pressure of being under constant surveillance and dodging suspicious glances became unbearable. Pope had managed to decipher an ancient map that seemed to lead to a cave in the Atlas Mountains, but they hadn’t counted on the other hunters who caught wind of the advance.

The chase began in the market, with the clatter of falling pots and screams from confused vendors who barely understood what was happening. You leapt up a stone staircase that led up to the rooftops, Rafe hot on your heels and JJ and Kie a few feet behind, bringing up the rear. From above, the flat roofs of the souk stretched out like a makeshift battlefield, dotted with hanging clothes and rusty antennas. The air was thick with heat and dust, making every breath a challenge. 

Gunshots rang out in the distance, the echo spreading through the streets like a wave. You threw yourself to the ground just in time to avoid a second shot, feeling adrenaline turn your fear into a searing drive. Rafe held out a hand and helped you up, the urgency in his eyes clearer than ever. “We have to get down from here now!” he shouted over the din, pointing to an old staircase that led to a narrow alley. 

They managed to climb down and into the tangle of streets, but the sense of impending danger never left. The group briefly took refuge in a cellar, where John B pulled out the map and spread it out on a splintered wooden table. “The cave is close, but we need to make a detour. We’re being followed closely,” he said, his gaze fixed on the markings that indicated a winding path into the mountains.

The tension in the air was palpable. No one fully trusted Rafe, and Kie kept giving you worried glances, as if trying to gauge how much more you could take. You were tired, exhausted, but at the moment the idea of ​​stopping seemed as far away as peace itself. 

That night, when the group decided to split up, you found yourself alone with Rafe in a dark passage, the echo of screams and gunshots still haunting you. The shadows on the stone walls seemed to lengthen and twist as if they were alive, too, watching you. You walked in silence, your breathing still ragged and your body on high alert. Rafe, ever alert, stopped suddenly and put a hand on your arm. The touch was cold, but it also had a hint of urgency that made you still. 

“Listen,” he whispered. You barely noticed the sound of footsteps coming toward you, slow and calculated. Before you could process it, someone grabbed you from behind and dragged you into the darkness of an alley. You kicked and punched, fighting with all your might as Rafe tried to reach you. 

You knew you had been missing for no more than a couple of hours, you had learned to count time without a watch and without getting lost and you knew that you had been exactly two hours with your head covered, except for your mouth. 

In an unexpected twist, it was John B who appeared out of nowhere, pulling your captor and slamming him against the wall with a force that seemed impossible for his build. Once free, you breathed heavily, feeling the world around you blur. You were tired, but John B’s gaze, full of concern and determination, reminded you that you were not alone. 

“We have to move. Now,” he said and you quickly followed. 

The streets began to calm down as John B led you through a maze of passages further and further away from the bustle of the souk.

Finally, John B stopped in front of an old wooden door, dark with age and dust. He knocked three times in a rhythmic manner, and the door creaked open. You entered behind him, feeling tiredness creeping through your body like an unbearable weight. The small room you entered was lit by an oil lamp in one corner, casting a dim light that made the shadows lengthen and distort.

There, sitting in a chair with an expression somewhere between worry and relief, was Rafe. When he saw you, his eyes lit up with a flash of excitement that he quickly tried to hide under a facade of serenity. You had no time for words; you threw yourself at him, hugging him tightly, feeling the warmth of his body and the accelerated beat of his heart under your arms. For a moment, nothing else mattered.

Rafe hugged you back, his grip firm, almost desperate. For an instant, he wasn’t the troubled, arrogant man you’d shared so many moments of uncertainty with, but someone who shared the weight of the same struggle, the same fear, and the same need to find respite amidst the chaos.

“I thought I’d have to kill someone to find you,” he murmured, his voice husky near your ear, heavy with a feeling he couldn’t or wouldn’t admit. You felt his hands tighten around you, as if he feared that if he loosened his grip, you might disappear into the dimness of the room.

“I almost did,” you admitted, pulling back just enough to look him in the eyes.

John B coughed softly, breaking the tension in the air and reminding you that you weren’t alone. You looked over at him, and behind him, JJ and Kie had gathered, each with expressions ranging from relief to distrust. Kie smiled briefly, but JJ kept his stance alert, always the first to suspect Rafe. 

“We need to decide our next move,” John B said, crossing his arms and glancing around at everyone in the room. “Those following us aren’t going to stop, and the cave in the mountains isn’t going to sit around waiting for us.”

Rafe let out a low, almost inaudible laugh and looked away, as if he was considering John B’s words. You felt the knot in your chest slowly unravel, replaced by the determination they all shared: to find what they were looking for. 

After the conversation, the small room fell into a heavy silence, interrupted only by tired sighs and the occasional creaking of chairs. The tired looks, the few words. The adrenaline of the day was finally beginning to fade, and exhaustion took its place with relentless force. John B and the others found corners in the room to rest, spreading threadbare blankets on the floor and chairs.

Rafe looked at you and nodded silently, both of you knowing you wouldn't stay there. Without exchanging another word, you walked out the back door, into the shadows of the streets of Marrakech. You walked in silence, unhurried but not stopping, following the paths you already knew by heart. The house you shared was a few streets away, a replica of the many modest buildings in the neighborhood, but set back enough to offer you a semblance of privacy and safety.

Upon arriving, Rafe opened the door and let you in first. The interior was dark and cool, a welcome welcome after the scorching heat of the day and the tension that seemed to have been tied to your back like a weight. You closed your eyes for a moment, allowing yourself to feel the ephemeral peace of the place, before letting out a deep sigh and moving towards the small room in the back, where a low, simple bed awaited you. 

Rafe stood in the doorway, watching you with a mix of tiredness and something else you couldn’t quite make out. “Do you want me to make you something to drink?” he asked, his voice soft and husky. 

You shook your head as you kicked off your shoes and dropped onto the bed. “No, I just… need to sleep. It’s been too much for today.” You laid down on your side, hugging one of the pillows and feeling your eyelids begin to droop. You didn’t expect Rafe to do the same, but suddenly you heard him move. The floorboards creaked beneath his feet, and the lamplight flickered for a moment before he blew out the last spark and everything went dark. 

You flinched slightly as you felt the weight of the bed dip beside you. You turned your head, and though you could barely see his features in the darkness, you could feel his proximity, the heat radiating from his body. “I’m not staying in that house with them,” he murmured, like an explanation, though you didn’t need one. You didn’t respond, just closed your eyes, too exhausted to think about what it meant.

The silence stretched between you, only broken by the slow, deep breaths that began to come together. Without realizing it, as tiredness dragged you to sleep, you turned a little, looking for a more comfortable position. Your hands brushed Rafe's arm, and he moved barely, as if responding to your touch was a reflex. Before you could think about what was happening, you felt his arm slide around your waist, pulling you towards him. It was a protective, warm gesture, and although at another time you would have said something, in that instant you only sighed, feeling your body relax completely. 

With his breath close to your ear and the safety of his arms around you, the tension that had accompanied you for days finally dissolved. 

The next morning the sun began to filter through the cracks in the window, filling the room with a soft light that contrasted with the darkness you had fallen into the night before. You woke up slowly, eyelids heavy, body still marked by the tiredness of the day before. Without moving, you felt the warmth of Rafe’s body beside you, his arm still around your waist, and for a moment you couldn’t help but smile quietly.

You tried to turn around to get out of his embrace without making a sound, hoping you wouldn’t wake him, but when you tried to move, something pulled at you. Rafe, still asleep, pulled you closer to him, a gesture so automatic that it made you sigh silently. Your body tensed at first, but then you realized it couldn’t be that bad, at least for a moment longer.

“Don’t go,” he murmured quietly, his tone rough with sleep. The softness of his words made your chest tighten unintentionally.

You stayed still for a second, staring at the ceiling, feeling the warmth of his embrace envelop you, as if the entire world had disappeared, leaving only that small corner of peace between the two of you. But reality, as always, quickly took over. You didn’t want to be that person, you didn’t want to confuse yourself or complicate things further. It was a hug, nothing more.

“Rafe...” you began quietly, almost afraid to interrupt the peace that had formed between you. “I’m not Sofia.”

The sound of his breathing changed, and then, with a calmness that surprised you, he replied, “I know,” as he held you even tighter against his chest. His words were soft, as if there was nothing to clarify, nothing to change. “I just… want to keep sleeping.”

Despite his relaxed tone, you couldn’t stay there all day. You already knew that time was pressing, and things were still moving outside of that little bubble of calm you’d shared with him. “There are things to do, Rafe,” you said, your tone firmer this time. “And we need to eat.”

A frustrated sigh escaped his lips at that moment, but eventually he relented. His body tensed a little as, with a grimace, he began to pull away from you, his arm finally releasing you, though his gaze was still a little clouded by sleep.

“It’s okay,” he said, sitting up with a hand on his head, as if trying to clear his head a little before getting up. “But only because you have to eat.”

The smile that escaped you upon hearing his tired, yet resigned tone was almost inevitable. You got up first, stretching and looking for clean clothes. As you watched him prepare his way to get up.

After a simple but necessary breakfast, with the morning warmth streaming in through the windows, the pace of the day continued. The conversations about the map and the cave in the mountains were quickly forgotten as each of you went about your own business. The chaos and paranoia of the day before had subsided, but danger was still present in every corner of Morocco, lurking in the darkness, waiting for the right moment to emerge.

Rafe, as always lately, had decided to act without thinking too much about it. There was something in his nature that pushed him to throw himself into risky situations without measuring the consequences. And, as always, it ended in trouble.

That trouble came in the form of an old acquaintance who appeared in the square, with clear intentions of collecting old debts. Rafe tried to negotiate, to talk to him in terms he clearly didn’t understand, while you watched from afar, feeling a growing unease in your stomach. There was something about the man’s posture, his cold gaze, that told you that they weren’t going to get out of this well.

The exchange of words escalated quickly, the tone of the conversation going from tense to aggressive in seconds. You knew it wasn’t going to end well, but what you didn’t expect was what happened next.

The man moved quickly, his hand searching for something in his jacket. You didn’t need to be told, it all happened in the blink of an eye. Rafe had backed away, but the man already had a gun in his hands, and his intention was clear. Rafe’s gaze hardened, and in that moment you understood that he couldn’t escape.

The man raised the gun towards him, and the world seemed to slow down for an instant. You knew there was no time to think about it. Fear transformed into action without your brain being able to fully process it. Without thinking, you pulled out the gun you had taken from the cellar the night before. In one swift movement, you aimed and fired. 

The sound of the gunshot rang through the air, the echo repeating in your ears as the man fell to the ground, with a grunt of pain, the gun slipping from his hand. Quickly, you turned to Rafe, who was only a few feet away from you, watching what had happened with a mix of surprise and gratitude, but also with the awareness of what had just happened. 

“Are you...?” you began, but the words got caught in your throat. Adrenaline was still flowing through your veins, making your hands shake slightly, but there was no time to reflect. 

Rafe, after a moment of silence, finally spoke. “Well done,” he said in a tone you couldn’t quite read. But there was something in his gaze, a deep gratitude, and also a concern that he didn’t want to admit.

“It’s nothing,” you lied, quickly putting the gun away, though your heart was still racing. “Be careful, I need you to be the Rafe who makes deals with the worst people possible and comes out on top.”

Rafe didn’t say anything. He looked at the fallen man, then turned to you, and without another word, he nodded. “Let’s move on.”

The two of you walked quickly, away from the scene, the shadows of the streets covering you. Rafe walked a few steps ahead of you.

Your breathing was still irregular, the adrenaline already starting to wear off. The question that had formed in your head escaped your mouth, more out of impulse than out of need to know the answer.

“Isn’t there a minute where we have peace? Where I don’t have to get your ass out of some trouble?” you blurted out, the irony in your voice evident. You didn’t know if you wanted to laugh or scream, but something about the situation made you blurt out that question as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Rafe, without turning around, let out a dry laugh, the one you already knew was the only way he had to deal with the situation, a defense against the chaos that surrounded him. “Like with Sheriff Peterkin,” he said, and although his words seemed light, there was something in his tone that he couldn’t hide: the heaviness of that memory.

The mention of the policewoman made you pause for a second. You knew exactly what he meant. That time, long before they got to this point, you remembered the local police who had almost caught Rafe and his family, so he took it upon himself only for reasons that were never fully understood, your father intervened, paying whatever it took to cover it all up. 

You knew that, in some way, your father’s hand was always present, ensuring that Rafe’s problems didn’t affect him, although it had left you with a bitter feeling in your stomach. Your father never talked about these situations, but it was clear that he had ways of cleaning up messes that others couldn’t. And in some way, he included you in his world, which you were used to and liked. 

“I know,” you answered with a wry smile. You couldn’t help but think of everything you had done to protect Rafe, everything you had put aside for him, for his sake. And what did you get in return? More trouble, more chaos. But at the same time, you couldn’t deny that something about that connection dragged you down, something you couldn’t control.

Rafe glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, and for a moment, his eyes softened, as if you were reading his thoughts. “Thank you,” he said quietly, though it wasn’t the kind of thanks that made you feel completely at ease.

“Don’t be,” you replied quickly, feeling the moment become more tense than it already was. “I don’t need you to thank me, Rafe. This is what always happens. But I don’t want to be your fixer all the time.”

Silence fell between you again as you walked through the streets, the sun already warming the air uncomfortably. Your dress, though light at first, now felt sticky and dirty. Sweat ran down your back and the line of your neck, and the dust of the streets stuck to your skin only made things worse. You rubbed your forehead, desperate, and muttered more to yourself than to Rafe.

“This is unbearable. I’m sweaty, dirty, and… I need a bath urgently. This is torture.”

Rafe walked a few steps ahead, but his eyes shifted to you for a moment, as if he was trying to process what you had just said. He didn’t seem worried, but he did seem a little amused to see you in this state.

“I know, but it’s not the most important thing right now,” he said, in his usual, somewhat carefree tone. “We have to stay focused.”

You frowned as you brushed off your dress. “Yeah, sure, very focused… but I could be a lot more productive if I wasn’t so uncomfortable.” You looked around, realizing how ridiculous it sounded: here you were, running away from one problem after another, and all you could think about was a bathroom.

Rafe, noticing your tone, let out a low, amused laugh, as if the idea of ​​worrying about something so mundane in the midst of all the chaos was completely absurd. “It’s not my fault you’re not going to take a bath with me,” he said, as if to joke. 

You turned to him, one eyebrow raised, and prepared to respond, but before you could say anything, he gave you a small tap on the arm, almost playfully, while smirking. The way he did it seemed so natural, as if everything else around them disappeared for a second. 

“Don’t be so dramatic,” he added between laughs. “You can wait a little longer before you get in the water.” 

He looked at you with that lopsided smile that, despite everything, couldn’t take away the discomfort of being drenched in sweat and dirt. But you couldn’t help but laugh, despite how upset you were. 

“Easy for you to say, right?” You said, trying to make a face, but you couldn’t help but crack a slight smile. “When you’re not the one stuck in a sticky dress with your hair stuck to your face.”

Rafe, hearing your tone, simply shrugged, still smiling. “I promise that once we get somewhere safe, you can shower all you want. In the meantime, just hold on a little longer. It’s not all that bad, right?”

You stayed silent for a moment, looking at his relaxed face as you walked. You knew he was partly right. In the end, the sweat and heat were nothing compared to what you had already faced. But, despite everything, you couldn’t help but think about how much good a nice bath would do you.

“Okay, but don’t make me wait too long,” you said in a more relaxed tone, feeling your body ease up a bit as the tension was released with those words. “Because really, Rafe, I need something more than water to cool off.”

Rafe, looking at you with that look of his, just nodded, and with a mischievous smile on his face, he replied, “I promise, just hold on a little longer.”

You pushed yourself gently against his arm, and laughed.

Although the hours had felt endless, they ended up being productive for you and Rafe. The search for clues had paid off, although not in the way you had expected. They had managed to find some things and talk to some people who would help them, and they had also made some important progress in getting an address that seemed more promising than the previous ones. Despite the discomfort of the heat, the chases they had barely dodged, and the tensions between them, you felt that the hours had been worth it. 

The streets, which had previously seemed overwhelming and chaotic, now felt more familiar. They had managed to blend in a bit with the locals, and although curious eyes continued to follow them, they managed to move more confidently, at least until it got late. Finally, after a day of intense work and a couple of altercations, night fell over Morocco, and the cool breeze that was beginning to blow made you breathe a sigh of relief. 

As the shadows lengthened, the city seemed to calm down a bit, the streets less hectic, the heat of the day slowly easing. You were tired, the sweat stuck to your skin was no longer just uncomfortable, but had left you feeling heavy. All you wanted at that moment was a bath, but you knew things couldn't be that simple.

Rafe had disappeared for a moment, perhaps to talk to someone or continue digging into some clue that had surfaced, but you couldn't wait any longer. You quickly walked to the house you had rented, the temporary shelter where you could only think about taking off everything you had endured that day.

Entering the small dwelling, you closed the door behind you with a sigh of relief. You no longer had to be on alert all the time. There was no immediate danger in sight, and at last, you had some time to yourself.

You quickly headed to the bathroom, where a large, old tub was waiting for you, filled with water that still felt somewhat warm, as if someone had prepared everything in advance. You didn't hesitate for a second and, without thinking twice, you began to undress, removing clothes soaked in sweat and dust from the day. Each piece of clothing you dropped on the floor seemed to take a little more of the weight off your shoulders.

You sank into the tub with a sigh of relief, letting the warm water envelop your tired body. You lay back with your arms outstretched on the edge, closing your eyes and letting the warmth surround you, covering you completely. Each bubble that formed on the surface seemed to soothe you more, as if you were letting go of all the stress and tension you had built up.

The sound of the water gently moving around you was the only thing you could hear, and for a moment, you felt like everything else was left behind. You only thought about yourself, and the movement of the water.

The warmth of the water was beginning to relax you completely, and every part of your body that had been tense during the day was slowly letting go. You had your eyes closed, enjoying the moment, when you finally managed to disconnect from everything else, even Rafe's presence. At last, you felt like the world could wait a little.

The soak in the tub was beyond relaxing. Without thinking, you began to completely relax, the hot, bubbling water enveloping your body as tiredness slipped away from you.

You allowed yourself to stay there for a few more minutes, enjoying the peace that so rarely came to you.

When you finally got out of the tub, you felt like new. The water had done wonders on your tired body.

You decided to replace the water in the tub before Rafe arrived. The water you had used was warm, but it wasn't as hot anymore, so you decided to fill it up again for him. You did this more out of instinct than anything else, you wanted to offer him some peace of mind after everything you had been through that day. The sound of the water flowing in the tub was the only thing you could hear as you prepared to go get some clean clothes.

You didn't notice it at first, but when you returned to the living room, you heard the door open. Rafe walked in with his tired, somewhat heavy gait, but it wasn’t until you turned to look at him again that you noticed something odd about his posture. Something about the way he walked, slightly hunched over, made you frown.

Rafe was hurt.

The sweat on his face and the blood stains on his clothes didn’t go unnoticed. There was some wound, perhaps superficial, but enough to make you worry. You hurried to approach him, but he raised his hand, stopping you before you could say anything.

“I’m fine,” he said, his voice tense but firm, as if he didn’t want you to treat him like he was a child. “Just a couple of scratches. A bath will do me good, and that’s it.” His tone was so direct that it left no room for further discussion, as if the idea of ​​being helped was something he preferred to avoid.

You stared at him for a moment, feeling a lump form in your throat. You wanted to help, to do something, but you knew Rafe wasn’t going to let you do it. You knew him too well to know that he wouldn’t accept help easily, especially when it came to something as “minor” as a wound.

“I’ve already filled the tub for you,” you finally said, trying to hide how much it worried you to see him in that state. Your voice sounded calmer than you felt, but there was still a note of concern that you couldn’t hide. “It’s ready. Just… be careful, okay?”

Rafe looked at you with a crooked smile, that smile of his that used to be so trusting, but now seemed somewhat forced. “Thank you,” he said quietly, giving you a slight nod in thanks. 

You stood there for a few moments, watching him head towards the tub, where he paused for a moment before beginning to strip off his blood and dirt stained clothes. 

The tension in the air between the two of you was palpable, but in the end, you knew you couldn’t just leave him like that. If he wasn’t going to accept it, you would take the lead. No matter what was between you, you couldn’t leave him hurt and alone. 

You approached the tub with a clear decision in your mind. Without thinking too much, you grabbed a clean rag and dipped it into the hot water. The sound of the water sliding down his skin, the warmth emitted by the steam, turned it all into a kind of calm that at first seemed disconcerting. Rafe stayed silent, watching you as you moved the cloth gently across his torso, careful not to touch his wounds, cleaning away the dirt that had accumulated on his body.

You didn’t think about his nakedness. You knew that, at this point, it was just a practical matter.

Rafe, despite the awkwardness of the situation, kept looking at you, and with a crooked smile, decided to break the silence. “Are you really doing this?” he said in a sarcastic tone, raising an eyebrow, as if he were in the middle of an awkward joke. “Aren’t you afraid of getting wet?”

You laughed despite yourself, almost unable to help it. The laughter came out of you spontaneously, lightening the heavy atmosphere that had formed a little. “If I get wet, I get wet. It’s not like I haven’t gotten wet before.” You replied, cleaning the part of his shoulder more carefully, always aware of the wounds.

Rafe’s sarcastic tone never faded, though at the moment it seemed more like a way to cope than anything else. He stared at you, but this time, something in his gaze changed. 

“You’re beautiful,” he said casually, as if it were just a comment. But there was something in his eyes that left you speechless. 

Your heart skipped a beat, and you immediately felt uncomfortable. For a second, you froze. “Please don’t say that,” you murmured, trying to look away to avoid him seeing it in your eyes. 

The atmosphere between the two of you grew tense, as if the words were floating in the air, weighing more than anything you could say. There were too many things left unsaid between you, too many intertwined feelings, and the complications of everything going on in your lives. But, in that instant, the comment seemed to change something.

Rafe didn't respond immediately. Instead, he gently took your hand, guiding it through the water as you ran it over his chest. The closeness of his body, the way he touched you, made your breathing quicken. Before you could react, he pulled you towards him, into the tub, unexpectedly. The warmth of the water surrounding both of you only intensified the feeling of closeness, of warmth. 

You stood there, not knowing what to do. Your whole body was telling you to get away, that it wasn't the time, that this shouldn't happen. But something in his gaze, something in the way he held you, made your own thoughts fade away. The doubts and voices in your head seemed to fade away when his lips met yours, in an intense but silent way, as if there was no turning back. 

Despite what your mind was telling you, what was warning you that this could be a mistake, you couldn't help it. The touch of his body, the unexpected connection, made you lose control for a moment. The pressure in your chest disappeared, and for an instant, there was only the sensation of his lips, of his closeness, of the passion you hadn't planned.

You knew that, after all this, nothing would ever be the same again. But in that moment, you surrendered to the sensation, to the connection you both shared, even though everything around you told you not to let yourself go.

You both stayed there for a long time, in silence, only the sound of the water and the ragged breaths filling the air around you. There was no rush, no urgency to move away. The warmth of the water and the closeness of your bodies enveloped you, and for a moment, you let yourself go, you let the chaos of the world be replaced by the calm that only he could offer you in that instant. The tension between you seemed to slowly fade away, as if time had stopped and everything else no longer mattered.

When you finally pulled away from him, a little dazed, it was Rafe who broke the silence with a soft, but determined voice. “Come on,” he said, taking your hand gently. 

You didn’t have time to say anything else before he led you out of the tub and into the bedroom, but you didn’t care. There was something comforting about the idea of ​​spending the night with him, of sharing a space, even if it was just for a few hours. You felt calmer than you had in days, something you didn’t even know you needed until that moment.

[lavandulawrites]

An Escape To Warmer Temperatures

Yandere Capitano x reader

Yandere Capitano is something else<3 Got this idea while doing the archon quest.

Synopsis: Capitano wants to take you with him to Natlan in search of the pyro gnosis

Masterlist

Warnings: spoilers for 5.1, implied murder, implied violence (not towards the reader), obsessiveness, possessiveness, power imbalance

Word count: 1146

The Captain was a righteous man. It was a well known fact. He was tall, way above 190 cm and he was as muscular as a god. He had an aura that made one cower before him, even if you didn’t know about his identity as the 1st Harbinger. His love for you was passionate and over consuming. He sat you above all others and he had told you time after time that he would burn down Teyvat for you. It was no secret that Capitano had shed blood for you. Both his own and the blood of others. He never told you, but you had gotten the glance of blood speckles on his clothing after some had sent you a dirty look and you had overheard his lackeys disposing of what remained of a unfortunate man who had bumped into you.

Capitano was a strange man, but there was no doubt about his love for you.

At night he caged you in an gentle, but firm embrace. His strong arms wrapping around you and keeping you close. At first you had resisted, in fear of what he might do to you, but you caved in when you realised he didn’t mean you any harm.

Capitano was no stupid man, quite on the contrary. He knew about the dangers of the world and wanted nothing more than to shield you from said dangers.

The snow storm had lasted for days, almost a week. The wind hammered against the roof and the snow clouded the sky in an endless stream of white. The old hearth was lit and the flames beckoning you closer. You reached out your hands in an attempt to warm them. The flames were bright and looked like a living breathing being.

The polished floor creaked making his presence known. Your eyes remained focused on the fire rather than his imposing figure. His movements stilled and you knew he was waiting for you to say something.

“You are home” you could almost see your breath in the cold air despite the fire before you.

A low hum could be heard from behind you. A heavy fur trimmed coat was laid around your shoulders in an attempt to stop the shivering of your limbs that you hadn’t been aware of.

“We finished early” the black haired captain replied. His hand stayed on your shoulder. “Are there any special reasons as to why it is so terrible cold in here?”

“The heater broke and the firewood was wet” your eyes were still staring into the flames.

The hand on your shoulder moved its thumb in an comforting manner. “Why didn’t you ask the servants to help you?”

“I don’t mind the cold…” your voice low. The truth was that the temperature inside the grand mansion was one of the few things you could control in your life. It was rather childish, but you couldn’t care less.

“I see…” he sighed. The thumb came to a halt. “There is something I have been wanting to discuss with you.”

The Captain often gave you the illusion that you had something to say in the matter of discussion, but it was only that, an illusion. What he said was final. That much you knew.

“Oh. Go on” your voice was devoid of any emotion as your mind raced through all the possibilities of what he wanted to discuss with you.

“I’m going to Natlan in the search of the gnosis” his hand left your shoulder. “And I want you to come with” his words were filled with authority.

You swallowed as your eyes widened. Natlan…. You had never set foot outside of your homeland. And now he wanted you to come with him to Natlan? You almost wanted to laugh. This was really the last thing you had expected to hear from the rigid man.

You turned around to face him. His beloved helmet was nowhere to be seen. What met you were his dark midnight blue eyes that reminded you of the deep Snezhnayan waters that you could see from your bedroom window. His eyes were deep and you felt like you could drown in the endless blues. His star-like pupils stared right back at you with a whirlwind of emotions you could only hope to place.

A scar ran down one of his eyes and you wondered how he had managed to escape with his eye intact. Multiple other scars littered his skin, but the most noticeable save form the one over his eye, were the one straight over his nose. It had faded to a white colour, but you could imagine it must have looked quite bad when he first got it.

Due to his Khaenri'an blood, his skin was filled with blue veins accompanied with black lines that ran through the entirety of his body. His mouth looked rather normal, but when he smiled or sneered it stretched a little too far for a normal human being. Behind his pale lips were sharp teeth that belonged more in the jaws of a hound, rather than a man. His tongue was long, but he rarely made it known.

Despite the curse he suffered from, he was an undeniable handsome man. His beauty was something that greatly unnerved you as he seemed almost like a beast that made itself appear human in order to come closer to its prey. He was unsettling with his imposing height and muscles, yet you found it hard to tear your eyes from his own.

“Do I have a choice?” your voice were meek despite your effort at sounding indifferent.

He huffed and the corner of his lips turned slightly downward as his dark eyebrows furrowed. “No” Capitano’s voice was soft as if he tried to calm you down. It came as no surprise that he had long sensed your inner turmoil.

His large hands cupped your face gently. His thumbs stroking your cheekbones. He stared at you for a while before he pulled you into an embrace. His strong arms caging you in as your face was pressed against his muscular chest. His hand stroked your back and you found yourself getting calmer.

“I think a change of scenery will do you good” the bit that he was incapable of departing from you for a long period of time was left unsaid, yet the words hung heavy in the air. Suddenly the living room felt as hot as the steps of Natlan.

His hand traveled up to your head were it intertwined with your soft locks. His head came down slightly as he inhaled your scent in a rather desperate motion that seemed unfit for the 1st Harbinger.

“Jeg elsker deg [Name]” the words that left his lips were in the national language of his homeland. Though you didn’t know the language, you understood all too well what those words meant.

Translation

Norwegian → English

Jeg elsker deg = I love you

[girlgenius1111]

responsibility

you are reluctant to share the problems you are having at home with your teammates. your teammates just think you're an irresponsible teen. it takes an emergency for things to come to light. barça x reader, though this first part is much more platonic alexia & reader. more team involvement to come. cw: some violence / abuse. a lot on grief and the loss of a parent. this is mostly desperately sad angst with some comfort sprinkled throughout.

------

Your father was drunk. Hammered, in fact. You’d seen the empty bottles scattered around the kitchen when you walked in from training, telling you that he’d gotten an early start today. You were on your guard as soon as you’d noticed that, but you only pushed your dresser in front of your door when he began to pound on it, and yell. Some of the things he was saying were completely unintelligible, while others were completely clear. What you could understand was not anything new. He rambled about your mom, and how much he missed her. About how horrible it was that she’d died and left him stuck with you. How you drained away all his money playing football, and how he was tired of how ungrateful you were. 

Normally, he didn’t do anything. Normally, the yelling was the extent of it. Sometimes, though it went farther. He’d grab you, or push you, kick you out of the house. When that happened, you’d go to a friend's place and sleep there, only coming back in the morning when you knew he’d be passed out. 

Only very rarely did he actually hurt you. The occurrences were rare enough that you could pretend it didn’t happen. You covered the bruises up with makeup if you had too, and ignored them. You told people they came from training until you started to believe it yourself. 

Tonight felt different, though, and you knew why. It was your parents anniversary. Any faint reminder of your mother only seemed to inflame your father’s hatred for you. He’d never wanted a kid, but your mom had, and that man had worshiped the ground she walked on. So, your parents had you, and you enjoyed a happy little life for 15 years. And then your mom got sick, and then got sicker. 

You thought losing her would be the hardest thing you’d ever do, but as you sat on the floor of your bedroom, you decided that your father hating you because your mother was dead was somehow 100x more painful. He hurled abuse at you through the door, and when the dresser tipped away from it, crashing loudly onto the ground, you were more afraid than you’d ever been in your life. 

You barely had the forethought to grab your phone and slip it into your pocket before your father shoved his way into the room, a half full bottle of vodka sloshing in his hand. He had the look on his face that haunts your nightmares. The detached one that told you things were about to hurt. You braced yourself as he raised the bottle, hoping it would hit the window and break it open, instead of hitting you. Instead of breaking you open. 

The ground came crashing up towards you as you dropped, trying to avoid the bottle. The world went black around you, and you weren’t sure if it was from the bottle, or from the force of your head hitting the ground. 

The darkness only came as a relief. 

------

You were at Alexia’s house before you had even really decided where you were going. Your forehead was bleeding a bit, and your head was throbbing. Your shin had gotten cut, too, on the way out your window. Or maybe it had gotten cut as you’d broken the glass of the window in order to climb out. 

Realistically, you knew you should call your lawyer, who would call your case worker. Who was really the only one with the power to get you out of that house. Neither of those people made you feel safe though, not like your teammates did. Or used to. Things were fuzzy, now, blurred, and you weren’t really sure if they still cared for you. If they would still feel safe. You hoped they would, because you weren’t sure what else you would do if they didn’t. 

It didn’t occur to you that someone other than Alexia would answer the door, but then her girlfriend was staring at you, mouth agape, and you wondered why you hadn’t gone to Ingrid and Mapi’s, or Marta and Caro’s. You didn't know Olga well, weren’t even sure if she’d recognize you. She surprised you, though, turning and shouting for Alexia as her hands found yours and she gently guided you in through the door.

Your captain’s voice echoed back through the house, missing the urgency Olga had tried to convey, and you could hear her leisurely steps coming from upstairs. Olga tried to bring you into the living room, but you stopped, shaking your head. 

“Blood.” You mumbled. “I’ll get blood on the furniture.” 

Olga was looking at you with something that wasn’t pity, or sympathy. It was anger, far from gentle anger, but her voice was soft when she spoke. 

“Don’t worry about that. Come sit down, Ale is coming.” 

Numbly, you let her guide you onto the couch. Alexia caught your eye as she entered the room, her face changing from mild curiosity to one of horror. 

“Oh my god,” she whispered. You looked away from her, the expression on her face forcing emotions to bubble up inside of you. Emotions you didn’t want to cope with, didn’t want to feel at all. 

Olga walked over to her girlfriend, murmuring a few words, before she exited the room. Alexia took a deep breath, before she came to kneel in front of you. 

“Pequeña? Are you with me?” She spoke more softly than you’d ever heard. 

“Sorry. I know it’s late.” 

“No apologies, please.” She reached up to move your hair out of your face, and get a better look at the cut across your cheek that appeared to have stopped bleeding. You flinched away from her violently, and every hope she’d had that this had been an accident flew out the window. She pulled her hand away,  trying to keep her voice low and soothing.“You are okay. You are safe. You are with me, and I am not going to let anything else happen to you.” 

Nodding somewhat hesitantly, you allowed her to inspect your face, crying out when her hand brushed across the bump on your head. 

“What is it? What hurts?” 

“Fell. Hit my head on the floor really hard.” You told her, every word feeling like cotton in your mouth as you tried your best to communicate. 

“Did you lose consciousness?” Olga asked, sitting on the couch next to you, handing a towel to her girlfriend. Alexia pressed it to the cut on your shin, which was still bleeding. 

“Maybe? Don’t really remember.” 

The two other women exchanged looks, before they seemed to come to some kind of silent agreement. 

“You might have a concussion, pequeña, and I think this needs stitches. I am going to take you to the hospital, okay?” 

You considered. The hospital meant police, meant questions you didn’t want to answer. But you’d come here for help, and Alexia was just trying to give that to you. 

“Okay.” You agreed, allowing them both to help you back to your feet. Before you could take a step, though, Alexia was tugging you into the softest hug you’d ever experienced, and it took all of your strength not to crumble completely. 

“Thank you.” You mumbled shakily, voice muffled by Alexia’s t-shirt. She rubbed your back gently, using the hug to take a moment to pull herself together. 

“You don’t need to thank me. I’ve got you, okay? Everything is going to be fine.” 

You doubted that promise, all the way to the hospital. As you answered questions you were sure would make things not fine, as you got stitched up and scanned. When they took pictures of your injuries like you were some kind of victim. Especially when you told them your dad hadn’t meant it, and they exchanged disbelieving looks. It didn’t really feel like everything would be fine. It felt like everything was falling apart. 

------

“Alexia, what the hell happened to her?” Olga asked, keeping her voice low so that you wouldn’t hear from where you were sitting on the lounge in the other room. 

The blonde shook her head, face twisted with worry. “I don’t know. They wouldn’t let me in the room when they took her statement, and she hasn’t really been talking. It was her father, I know that.”

“Jesus.” Olga sighed, pulling out what she needed to make you something to eat. “They let you bring her here, though?”

Her girlfriend shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah. I… I signed a bunch of forms to be declared her temporary guardian. But, amor, I can take her to my Mami’s, she wouldn’t mind. This is not your responsibility, and I wouldn’t want to-”

“Do not be ridiculous. She’ll stay right here. Ingrid and Mapi are nearby, so many of your other teammates too. She needs them, and she needs you. Of course she’ll stay.” Olga said incredulously, as if she’d never considered another option. 

Alexia’s face softened before she all but tackled her girlfriend in a hug. “I love you.” 

Olga held her tight, trying to provide some reassurance. “I love you too. Now go try and see if she feels like talking. I’ll bring her something to eat in a second.” 

You startled when Alexia took her seat next to you, before trying to muster up a smile. It felt weak, and pulled at the cut on your cheek, but it was the best you could do. 

“Your caseworker texted me. They’ve arrested your father.” Alexia said carefully, watching as a myriad of emotions flashed across your face. “So tomorrow, we can go and get your stuff, and move you into the guest room.” 

That felt too good to be true, there was just no way. No way that Alexia would want you to move in with her. Why would she want that?

 “I can’t… I can’t go home?” You asked. You didn’t want to, and you did. You craved your home, but you also craved safety, and those two things were not congruent. 

Why would you want to go back there? Alexia wondered. She had to remind herself that this was more complicated than she could even comprehend, and she had no business questioning how you were feeling. It was complicated, of course it was. “No. Not by yourself, and you aren’t going back there when your father gets home, either. Not if I have anything to say about it.” 

“I can stay by myself.” You argued weakly. “You don’t have to let me move in. You don’t have to do that, I can be responsible, I can take care of myself.” 

Your captain shut her eyes tightly, guilt flooding through her. You were thinking of Alexia’s harsh words to you a few days ago, and she could tell. 

If there was anything you despised, it was being late. It was the fourth time in the past two weeks, too, and though you hadn’t really been scolded yet, you knew it was coming. Sure enough, as you practically ran through the building towards the locker room, you saw Alexia and Irene waiting by the door. Seemingly, for you. 

Your text warning them that you’d be late apparently hadn’t done anything to reduce their anger. 

You slowed down as you got to them, trying to ignore the anxiety that rose in you at the idea of being in trouble. 

“Hi.” You said meekly, stopping in front of them as they glared at you. 

“What time does training start?” Alexia asked, her voice cold. 

“10:00.” You mumbled. 

“And that means on the pitch at 10, all ready to go, yes?” 

“Yeah.” 

“What time is it right now?” Irene chimed in. 

Your face was burning with embarrassment, your eyes trained on your shoes as you refused to look up at your captains.  “10:20.” 

“This is the fourth time in two weeks.” Irene sighed. “Where were you?”

“I… I slept through my alarm.” You lied. There was no way you could admit the truth. What you were doing was your business, it was private. And you knew that if your captains found out what was going on, they would involve themselves. And you didn’t want to burden them.

Alexia’s face hardened. She felt like you were lying, but she had no evidence to back that up. And even so, she couldn’t understand why you would be lying. Teenagers were weird, she reminded herself. And difficult. 

“That is unacceptable. You are 17, yes, but you are on this team. You are expected to act responsible and prove that you care to be here. Showing up late does not prove to us that this is a priority for you. You are benched. Until you can get your act together.” 

This wasn’t the first issue they’d been having with you. You’d been distracted and distant recently. Zoning out during training, skipping team bonding. You were quieter than normal, too, which really came off as you being annoyed by your teammates. Which you weren’t, not at all. You were just trying to get through. To get up every morning like everything was mine and make it to training. To get everything done that you needed, so that you could get out of your house. Where you would go when that happened, you weren't exactly sure. With the way your captains were looking at you right now, you knew you couldn’t go to them. They were upset, rightfully so. You just couldn’t do anything right. 

“Ale-”

“No. I am disappointed in you. I expect you to be more responsible. Now go run your extra laps.” 

With a sigh and a small nod, you headed off, completely missing the slightly concerned expressions that your captains were exchanging. You just weren't yourself, and they weren’t sure what to do about that. 

Alexia hadn’t understood, then. She knew that something was off, but she didn’t know it was this bad. She’d scolded you for being irresponsible, and she knew now that was unfair. And that you’d very much taken it to heart. You’d let her help you before, when your body was in shock, everything in fight or flight mode. 

Now, you were withdrawing, just as you’d been doing for weeks. This time, though, Alexia didn’t think it was just teenage carelessness anymore, or a rebellious phase. She could deal with her guilt for not understanding, for getting everything so wrong, later. For now, she had to make sure that you didn’t completely shut down. 

“Listen to me. I didn’t mean any of what I said before. I didn’t know what was going on, but I do now. So let me help, okay? You don’t need to worry about anything. Just let me take care of it all.” She took your hand in hers, feeling it tremble in her grip. You looked conflicted, and though there were tears in your eyes, all your captain could do was look at the jagged cut on your cheek. It wasn’t deep enough to need stitches, but she was pretty sure it would scar. A reminder, forever, of what someone who was supposed to love you had done. 

All she wanted to do was make it better. “Tell me how I can help.” She asked, doing her best not to beg. 

“I… um. I have a lawyer. I’ve been trying to get emancipated, I should call him.” 

“I’ll call him tomorrow.” Alexia said quickly, watching the cautious vulnerability dawning across your face. 

Olga walked in then, bringing both you and Alexia some food. You both ate in silence, not even the TV on to fill the void, before you leaned back into the couch and pulled your knees to your chest. You were safe, you knew you were safe, but you didn’t feel it. You didn’t feel much of anything, honestly. Your head hurt from the concussion, and the stitches in your shin pulled with every movement.

 The physical pain, you could deal with. It was the threat of feeling that terrified you. You felt a pang of emotion every time you looked at Alexia, though, when you saw the concern on her face, so you tried your best not to look at her. 

Your captain and her girlfriend exchanged looks, and Olga mumbled something about going to get you some ice cream, before she grabbed her wallet and keys and left the house. 

Within a minute, Alexia was turning her whole body towards you, completely attentive. You didn’t want her attention, but you had it. 

“What happened tonight, nena?” 

You knew the question that was coming, yet still, you were wholly unprepared for it. You’d answered the questions earlier from the police, but that had been different. They had been strangers. They’d been sympathetic but professional. As much as you’d been trying to downplay what had happened in your head, you knew Alexia would be horrified to hear what had happened. And that would chip away at your very fragile belief that it hadn’t been that bad. 

“You can tell me. Whatever happened, you can tell me.”

You decided to give her as few details as possible. “He was really drunk. He gets like this sometimes.” 

“Violent?” Alexia asked bluntly. 

“Not always. Most of the time he just yells.” 

“But tonight? It was more than yelling?” She hated pushing you, but she needed to understand what had happened if she was going to be able to help. 

You took a shaky breath before responding. “Yeah. When I got home from training, he was already drunk, yelling at me.”

“Was he angry about something?”

“He’s always angry.” You dismissed. “Always. Ever since mom… he didn’t want me, not really. And now mom is gone and he’s stuck with me. I think he hates me. I mean, I know he does. He tells me all the time. That’s what he was yelling about. How much he hated me.” 

You sounded detached, which Alexia was sure wasn’t healthy, but she pressed on anyway, knowing that you needed to tell her what happened, and only then could she help.  “What happened then?” 

“He broke my bedroom door down and threw the bottle of vodka at me. I hit my head trying to dodge it, but I think it hit me anyway. I broke the window open and climbed out. And then… I don’t really remember. Then I was here.” You went through it blankly, as numbly as if it had happened to someone else. 

“Oh, nena.” Alexia sighed, truly incapable of understanding how someone could be so cruel to you. You were shaking again as you glanced up at your captain with watering eyes and a trembling lip. “Cariño, I am so sorry this happened.” 

You shrugged one shoulder, trying to keep your tears at bay, but your captain persisted. 

“You are safe now, do you understand? I will never let him hurt you again, ever.” 

This time, there was no response from you. 

“Nena, look at me.” Alexia pressed, her eyes wide as they met yours. “You are safe with me, I promise you.” 

You wanted to believe her, you really did. Trust was hard, though. Only harder now. If your father could hurt you and not feel any remorse, what was to say other people would feel differently? What’s to say you could trust anyone? 

Alexia could practically see you come to that conclusion. Your body tensed back up, you leaned away from her, and your face grew completely blank. She wondered if she hadn’t been so harsh the other day, if you’d still be so wary of her. It wasn’t complete distrust, because you’d shown up on her doorstep and that was something. You were trying to protect yourself. Alexia couldn’t blame you for being so afraid, she really couldn’t. 

“Thank you for letting me stay here.” You told her, unsure if your shaky voice was doing a very good job conveying just how grateful you were. “I know having a 17 year old disaster move into the house you share with your girlfriend probably wasn’t something you were hoping for-”

“If I had known what was going on, I would have gotten you out of there a very long time ago.” Alexia interrupted, cursing herself when you blanched and looked at her with wide eyes. 

“I don’t get it.” You mumbled after a second. “You don’t have to do this, do any of it. Why are you doing this for me?” 

Alexia wished you were joking, wished she couldn’t hear the genuine wonder in your voice that someone would go out of their way to help you. 

“Because I care about you.” Alexia said simply. “We all do, every single member of the team. And you are welcome here for as long as you want to stay here.”

“But Olga,”

“Olga would pick up every stray dog on the side of the road and bring it home if I let her. She doesn’t mind that you’re here.” 

“I’m not a stray dog.” 

“No, you aren’t. I was just pretty sure you’d think the dog to be worthy of a home. Just like I think you are.” 

It was a jarring thought. The realization that you did, indeed, think of a dog as more worthy of a home than you were was a shock to your system. You weren’t sure when you’d stopped being so angry, and started believing the words shouted at you, but somewhere along the way, you’d lost yourself. Without even realizing. 

Alexia continued. “If Olga had driven by you walking here, and had no idea who you were, she would have brought you home. She would have done exactly what she did earlier. That’s who she is. She’s happy to have you here, happy to help. Really, pequeña. I promise.” 

You nodded, the only acknowledgement you gave her that you’d registered what she said. “She’s been gone for a while, I thought she was just going to get ice cream?” 

Alexia smiled slightly, glancing away from you. “She’s been in the drive for 10 minutes, she wanted us to finish talking without any interruptions.” 

You frowned at her and your captain tensed, suddenly worried she shouldn’t have told you that. Worried that you’d wrench away from her and resist the help she and Olga were trying to give you. 

Instead, you looked at her like she was a bit stupid. “The ice cream is going to be melted, Ale.” 

The blonde relaxed back into the sofa, a huff of laughter falling from her lips. She’d forgotten how seriously you took your ice cream. It was difficult to mesh together the two versions of you in her mind; the one she knew that was happy and carefree, except when it came to the texture of your ice cream. And the one sitting in front of her, broken. 

“Well, do you want to talk more or-”

“If Olga walks in and my ice cream is melted, this night will really be ruined.” You deadpanned, more amused at the surprise on Ale’s face than you were at your own joke. You didn’t like how she’d been looking at you. Anything to break the tension, anything to distract from what had happened. 

The distraction didn’t last long, because your head was beginning to hurt and you were too exhausted to really hide your pain. The look of sympathy returned to Ale’s face, and to Olga’s, and it wasn’t long after you finished your ice cream that you were ushered up to bed.

If the universe was kind, a dreamless sleep would follow. You were beginning to think the universe was cruel.

------ 

You liked to think that your mom visited you in your dreams. Sometimes, they were good dreams. Warm and kind of fuzzy, but unquestionably filled with love. You found that the good dreams were the hardest to remember. The bad ones were the easiest, maybe because more often than not, they were memories. 

Of course, the dream you had almost as soon as you’d drifted off to sleep was a bad one. It was flashes of a day that made you sick to think about. It had been a week after the funeral, and you’d yet to realize that the father you’d grown up with was gone for good. Though, that realization would come soon. 

A few of your friends had insisted on taking you out to grab coffee. It had been agonizing, sitting and listening to them try to distract you. It was still wallowing time, you argued. You were allowed to lay in bed in a ball and cry for as long as you needed to. Grief wasn’t a process that could be rushed.

Of course, your father would try. The dream grew hazy as it continued, flashes of memories more than anything. Your arrival home from coffee. The realization that he was stuffing your mom’s stuff into garbage bags and boxes, labeled for donation or trash. You remembered the way your blood had boiled; fury rising that he was trying to erase her. As if that would make it any easier. 

You remembered the way you pushed him away from her closet, tears running down your face. Your voice had trembled as you’d cursed at him, begged him not to get rid of all her stuff. He’d cursed right back, pushed right back. Told you that he couldn’t live in a house so full of memories of her. The way he’d said it, implying that you were nothing more than a painful reminder of her. A weight had settled on your chest when your first instinct was to run for your mom, and tell her what your father had said. 

You couldn’t do that anymore. There was nowhere to run to. You pushed him again, and he pushed back again. You fell to the floor, looking up at him just in time to see how horrified he looked at himself. He looked down at you in complete horror, shocked at himself for what he’d done. He backed out of the room, repeating apologies over and over. 

That was one of the last glimpses of the father you’d known all your life that you’d had. And it would never not haunt you that you’d been the one to make things physical the first time. That made it your fault. All of it was your fault. 

The dream ended as it always did, with you grabbing what you could from the bags and the boxes, stuffing it all into your closet. It ended with you pulling on her favorite sweatshirt, the one she’d worn the most. It smelled like her perfume still, and you got under the covers of your bed, burying your nose in the fabric. You cried, and you pretended your mom was there with you, though she never would be again. 

You woke as you always did, face wet with tears, but this time with a horrible feeling in the pit of your stomach. You’d left all her stuff in the house. You’d come here without it, and you needed it. Needed it now, needed to be surrounded by her like you’d been on that day. 

It was with a blind dedication that you slipped out of Alexia’s guest bed, put some shoes on, and went out the front door. You couldn’t leave her stuff there. Not in the house that reeked of alcohol and hatred and sadness. 

------

Alexia was pretty sure she knew where you’d gone, even if she’d couldn’t understand why. When Olga shook her awake, though, and told her that she’d heard the front door shut, Alexia knew you’d fled. And she knew you’d gone back to that house. Back to the place you still considered home, somehow. As Alexia pulled into your driveway, she reminded herself that she couldn’t understand. Growing up, she’d only ever felt love in her house. She’d never been through what you’d been through, never felt anything but safe with her parents. So it didn’t make sense to her that you’d go back. Not when you’d been trying to get out in the first place. But it didn't’ need to make sense to her, because it made sense to you. And you were her only concern. 

The front door was unlocked, and Alexia opened it carefully; the last thing she wanted was to frighten you further. The house was dark and cold, and it smelled heavily of alcohol. She followed the only light she could see down the hall to what she assumed to be your bedroom. The door bore the marks of your fathers fists, the wood dented and peeling. 

Before she even stepped into the room, Alexia could hear you crying softly. You were neatly folding up clothes and putting them into a duffel bag. The precision with which you worked completely contrasted how disheveled you looked; each shirt and sweater folded as if it would disintegrate if you weren’t careful. 

Alexia paused in the doorway, not sure there was any way she could let you know she was here without scaring you. It seemed like you were lost in your head, regardless. Your face was set tightly, a grimace etched across it, but your hands trembled, and tears fell almost continuously. It was as if you were too emotional to keep your feelings at bay, but simultaneously felt too unsafe to really let go. Your despair leaked out like your tears did, a little bit at a time. 

Your captain wasn’t sure she’d ever seen someone look so haunted and so numb at the same time. 

“Pequeña?” She spoke as quietly and soothingly as she could, yet still, you jumped half a foot into the air, a fearful whimper escaping. “It’s okay, it’s just me. It’s just me, you’re okay.” 

“Ale.” You mumbled, recognizing your captain in front of you. It hadn’t even been a thought that Alexia would get up and come after you. The consequences of your actions seemed so far away, like you were just acting with no follow up. There was only the present, because if you thought too hard about there being a tomorrow, you weren’t sure you could survive it. 

“Hey.” Alexia cooed, taking tiny steps closer to you, moving like a snail. She sat down a safe distance away, looking curiously into the bag you were packing. You knew Alexia was wondering why you were here, and honestly, you were too. It had made sense, when you’d awoken from your nightmare and left her house. It didn’t make as much sense now. “What are you doing back here?” 

There was no accusation in her tone, no frustration or annoyance, yet still, you felt the need to explain yourself. “I woke up, and I just… I had to come get a few things.” 

Alexia didn’t point out that it was the middle of the night, and that certainly such a task could wait until the following day. She just nodded in understanding, even though she didn’t understand, and tried to think of another question to ask. One that wouldn’t be too much, but one that might get her some more answers. Because truly, your captain was at a complete loss on what to do here. 

“What did you need to get?” She asked casually. This was normal, she decided. She’d pretend this was normal, and maybe then, you’d talk. 

You were almost done packing the clothes. It was an odd assortment of items that Alexia had seen you place in the bag. Mostly t-shirts and sweatshirts. And she’d never seen you wear any of it before. 

You didn’t reply right away, picking up the last sweatshirt and pulling it on. It was faded, too big on you, and there was a hole in the sleeve, but your entire body relaxed once it was on. Not much, but a noticeable amount. “Just some clothes.” 

“I’ve never seen that sweatshirt before.” Alexia commented, a wave of sadness washing over her as she began to connect the dots. 

“Yeah, it’s- it was my mom’s.” You whispered. “I just really needed to get this stuff. Sorry for leaving without saying anything.” 

Alexia looked at you, seeing a younger version of herself. Wearing a shirt that was much too big on her to bed, convincing herself that if she inhaled deep enough, it would still smell like him. Even if she couldn’t quite remember what that scent even was. 

“That’s okay, nena, I’m not upset.” The blonde gazed out the window for a moment, noticing the sun peaking above the horizon. It was bathing the room in a soft golden glow, and she noticed for the first time the broken bottle on the floor. The rest of the room was warm and soft, very you, but that bottle seemed to mar the entire atmosphere. It was a stain, and Alexia understood, suddenly, why you needed the clothes. 

You wanted the sweatshirt for comfort, yes. But this room had probably been the last place in the house that had remained untouched from your father and his cruelties. And now it had been ruined, and you couldn’t bear the thought of your most favorite possessions remaining here. Especially when you’d left. 

You wrapped your arms around yourself and spoke quietly, almost as if you’d read Alexia’s mind. “This is all I really have left of her. He got rid of the rest of it but I managed to save some of her clothes. I… I just didn’t want to leave them behind.” 

Didn’t want to leave her behind. Not in the place that had turned into hell after she’d gone. 

You were trying to be strong, Alexia could tell. Jaw clenched, blinking hard. Wiping carelessly at the never ending stream of tears. Alexia remembered trying to be strong, too. How it hadn’t even been something she wanted, it was just something she did. 

“Tell me about your mom.” The request escaped without her permission, and she jerked her head in your direction fearfully, terrified that it had been too much. Your lips were turning up at the corners, though, just a bit. Tears still fell, but you did as she asked. 

“She was really funny. We had the same sense of humor, I think, so everything she found funny, I found funny. She’d tell a joke I was already thinking.” 

Alexia hummed, a gentle encouragement as she inched closer to you. You were smiling a bit more now, still in the part of remembering that didn’t yet hurt. 

“She always helped me with my homework after school, and she always tucked me in at night. Even when I was way too old for it.” 

You took a deep breath. It was overwhelming, the love you felt for her. It felt like love, but it also felt like grief. Hot, painful, lingering grief. Still, once you’d started, you didn’t want to stop. You didn’t want to ever stop remembering every good thing about her. 

“She used to watch videos of people explaining football strategies, so we could talk about them. Even when she was sick she still… still watched. She never missed a game, even when she was doing treatment. She’d sit in her car and watch from the parking lot if she had too, but she never missed a game. I was always the most important thing to her. She used to say that being my mom was the best thing she’d ever been, that she’d ever be.”

“She sounds like a really good mom.” Alexia’s hand was on the back of your head, combing delicately through your hair. It felt nice. Safe. 

“She was the best.” You choked out. “She gave the best hugs, and she told me she loved me everyday. And I really really miss her.” You tried to swallow the sob that threatened to force its way out, but you couldn’t. Your grief couldn’t be contained, not anymore. It was an almost unconscious movement, turning to bury your face in Alexia’s sweatshirt. Your body shook with cries, and your captain wrapped her arms around you tightly. As if she could hold you together. 

You appreciated Alexia, more than you would probably ever be able to express. For being so patient, for coming after you, for asking about your mom. For hugging you and holding you tightly as she promised that everything would be okay. But Alexia wasn’t the person you wanted. 

The blonde didn’t understand the first time you said it, your words muffled by the soft fabric of her sweatshirt. But the second time, she did, and it felt like her heart was plummeting out of her chest. 

“I want my mom, Ale,” you sobbed. “I just- I want my mom,” 

She felt your words in her soul, and in that moment she would have done anything to give you what you wanted. It didn’t work like that, though, and she knew that all too well. So, she rubbed your back and kissed the top of your head. She rocked you gently, and made promises. To herself, and to you. 

“I know, I know you do.” She soothed. “I’m so sorry, cariño. Everything is going to be okay. I’ve got you.” 

You only cried harder, and Alexia felt like crying too. 

Nothing felt okay. But Alexia had you, and you believed that. Or at least, you wanted to.

------

Well. Have a good night everyone. tell me if you notice any typos 🥺. also tell me if you enjoyed this because i am so incredibly unsure about it.