#castin

Castin jolts awake with a choked gasp, immediately raising himself to sit up as his eyes dart around the moonlight illuminated bedroom. His vision blurry and disorienting as he tries to control his ragged breaths, soon failing as his mind thinks back to his very vivid feeling dream.

Baroness, his wife, struggling to hang onto the glimpse of life as blood squirts out from the sword impaled in her abdomen. Castins there, hands shaking as her desperately applies pressure to the wound, knowing damn well there’s nothing that can heal the every bleeding injury. He takes in shuddering breaths as he struggles to hold back his tears, the heaviness behind his eyes only increasing as he hears her own breathing become more and more shallow. As she takes in one last, staggering breath, she lets out a quiet “I love you.” His eyes widen as he lets out a wet “oh my god,” as he watches the life drain from his wife’s eyes. Looking up at the sky in hopes of a miracle, a sign that she’s living, but alas none come. He shuts his eyelids tightly, wanting to wake up, to feel her once beating heart against his own, to feel the known warmness of her now cold body. But he knows, goddess does he know the look of a dead, pleading soul by heart all too well.

Trying to decipher what’s real and what’s not, his desperate eyes soon make focus on a little bead of candle light coming from the library. As his mind switches to autopilot, his shaking hands roughly rip the sheets from his sweaty body, his stiff feet soon making contact with the cold floor, causing his body to involuntarily shiver at the feeling.

His body tries to stand in its own, not realizing its own weak state, legs and knees giving out as he grabs onto the bedside table to support himself, his quivering arms and hands knocking over glass and whatever else lays upon the table, his ringing ears not detecting the crashing and shattering of the bottles. Eyes shutting tensely when his vision blurs once again, noticing the slight sting in his palms from the shards that lay on the table and ground.

A room away the Baroness hears the commotion, looking up from her book at a source for the sound, finding nothing in her line of sight. Figuring it was her clumsy husband, she shuts her book quickly before walking over slowly to their shared bedroom, peaking over the corner, not expecting the right before her.

She sees her husband, hunched over their bedside table, shoulders shaking and head moving from side to side, his breathing erratic and quick . Taking notice in the broken bottles on the floor, she carefully starts making her way towards him, feet tapping on the floor quietly.

“Castin?” She whispers out, soon met with an uncomfortable silence. As if being pulled from a trance, her husbands head perks up, jerking to face her, but the glazed over look in his eyes makes her queasy.

“Baby,” he rasps out, voice nearly breaking. With two left feet, he tries to make his way over, as does she. But his knees soon buckle and his body falls forward, the baroness catching his heavy body in her much smaller arms. With a grunt, she tries as gently as she can to set them both on the floor, being held up by their knees. As she does, his arms frantically curl around her as if she’d disappear, face snuggling against her neck hurriedly.

“C-Castin? What-Are you alright what happened-“ Her thoughts were cut off by a small sob coming out of her husband’s mouth. It surprises her, to say the least. To hear her husband get choked up. His usual stoic and masculine self being broken down to nothing but one of a weeping child. She feels his tears soak into her sheer silk nightgown before she speaks up again, more gentle this time, much like a soothing mother.

“Castin? Oh my poor dear, what happened?” She coos, her soft hands pull his face away from her, feeling a sense of dread as she sees the absolutely heartbreaking look in his eyes. His eyes are wide, unfocused, fat tears threatening to fall down his roughed up face, eyebrows furrowed tightly as his lip quivers sadly. Surprisingly, he speaks up.

“I—I lost you..you…” he chokes up on his own words before continuing, “Oh god, you-you were bleeding ou-out e-everywhere…so..so much blood I-..” he tries to continue his thoughts but a fresh batch of tears stop him from doing so. Her hands come back up to wipe them away as they gush out. As he babbles out incoherently, she starts pressing soft kisses onto his tear soaked face as a way of grounding his scrambled mind. As if it was some kind of cure, his eyes flutter closed at the contact, piecing together the fragment of memories slowly.

Her delicate hands trace gentle circles along his rigid arms, feeling as they release the tension that lies beneath. Continuing her ministrations, she feels his body succumb to the tension and finally give out, almost collapsing on top of her if it wasn’t for her grabbing his shoulders to steady him, they both would have ended up with an even worse injury.

“Are you with me, my love? Can you feel me now?” She asks softly, one hand coming free to caress his chiseled face. It takes him a moment to compel himself to nod gently on her hold. Smiling in slight relief, her hand rests against his cheek as she watches his eyes open slowly. The moonlight catches them perfectly, the glazed over look her once held now replaced with one of a tired worker, droopy eyes meet her own sheepishly.

“My love?” He starts, voice rough and gravely, rightfully so. She nods, a sad smile coming across her features.

“Are you alright now? Whatever happened to cause that?” She questions, thumb stroking his cheek lovingly. His eyes trail down to the floor before taking a deep breath before starting.

“A..a nightmare, a very vivid one at that. I….i thought it was so real, you were…” he takes in a shuddering breath before continuing, “You were bleeding out, right in front of me. A sword straight to the stomach…I…I couldn’t stop it and…” his voice becomes watery along with his eyes once again as she shushes him gently, both hands now coming to caress his face lovingly.

“I’m right here, my love. Alive and very well, very healthy. Breathing and speaking if you wish. It was all just a dream, a figment of your imagination, none of it was real, alright?” He nods against her, hands coming to cup her own against his face, feeling the warmth of them, relishing in the fact that he can feel the pulse within. “You can feel it, no? My pulse, my heartbeat, my warmness, *thats* all real. I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere any time soon.” He smiles, eyes still casted down to the soft fabric of which she wears, thanking the stars there’s no blood or weapon penetrating her porcelain skin.

“I feel you, baby, all of you.” He adds, taking in the small smile that makes its way across her face. With a loving glance, he slowly leans forward to interlock their lips, the weight of the world falling off his shoulders as he once again feels the heat radiating off her onto him.

Pulling away gently, his eyes meet her own, blinking sluggishly. His hands moving from hers to wrap around her midsection, face once again moving to her neck.

“I don’t think there’s anything in this world that can make me stop loving you, wife.”

“Likewise, husband.”

I love finding old writing from months ago that I just completely gave up on lmao. Idkw but the idea of Castin being like..so comfort starved triggers something in my brain. I love it when warrior men get all emotionalllll. Oh, this also don’t proofread either, I don’t think any of my stuff will actually be 💀. Am I gonna reuse the same Desmond image for every Castin fic??..perhaps

I hope you guys enjoyed this one too! I’ve been trying to post more but life is life and it literally stops for no one so I might just be scattering around random writes here and there lol. As always, comment about what you liked and what you didn’t like, or leave me a request in my inbox! I love ur guy’s ideas and seeing people request stuff makes me heart so happy ❤️❤️

As Castin’s eyes fluttered open, the first thing he saw was sunlight. The rays of morning light filtered in through the windows of his room, casting a warm glow on all the rooms items. He let out a long sigh, mentally preparing himself for another long day of training. But for a moment, he relished in the quiet ambience of the morning. Birds cooed and chirps outside of his bedroom window, a light breeze rustled trees outside, he could even hear some of his men training already in a field a ways off.

A part of him wished his wife, the Baroness, could be here with him. He desperately wanted more time with her- as he always did. But at the same time, he knew how important the work she was doing would be to the growth of, well, everything.

A lazy smile crossed his face as he pictured his wife. He knew she was probably nose deep in a pile of work at this point. Over the past few months, he’d tried to pop in to check on her once in a while. Often, he was shooed out, with her fussing about needing to work and that he had things he needed to attend to as well. But occasionally, she’d let him stay. When this rare event happened, he would lounge on one of the chairs in her office, mentally grumbling about how uncomfortable it was, and would pick something to focus on. Sometimes it was a book that the Baroness had long finished, other times it was a map that had been marked up. But what the Baroness was unaware of, was that the items Castin would choose were merely things for his hands to fidget with. When he was in her presence in those times, his focus would always be on her. He loved watching the way her dress would sway as she bustled around the room, the way her nimble fingers would race over her paperwork, the way her eyes focused when she read the work. One of the things he loved most was the way he could practically see the wheels in her head turning as she thought long and hard.

As much as he loved these moments, he also missed having more quiet ones. Relaxed ones, with just the two of them.

His eyes opened again as he realized he’d begun to drift off as he thought. He blinked a few times, trying to keep himself awake. Only in doing so, as his senses finally awoke, he realized there was a hand laying on his arm. Not just a hand, fingers too.

His head shot to the side, eyes wide and expectant. His gaze softened as he saw his wife there, bathed in the golden glow of sunshine.

“Sweetheart- what? Shouldn’t you be working right now? You’ve literally never once slept in, do I need to call the doctor, babe?” he asked, his full attention on you. A slight smile tugged at the sides of his lips but there was a look of worry in his eyes as he scanned your face for any answer.

“No, Castin, I didn’t sleep in,” the Baroness replied with a roll of her eyes and a chuckle emitting softly from her throat, “I cleared my schedule for today. I’m going to spend it with my husband,”

Castin just blinked, taking in the calm smile that coated his wife’s face. She was serious.

“You’re joking, right, babe?” he asked.

He paused for a moment, taking in the sight in front of him, trying to comprehend that: yes, his wife really had made the time to spend the day with him. He took a second to take her in. The way the light was shining off her hair, the way the golden glow of the morning looked on her skin, how the sheets of their bed looked pressed against her.

He let out a hearty, happy chuckle.

“Well, if that’s the view I get to see all day then,” he made a whistling sound while he exhaled, eyes raking over your body, “Then by all means,” he leaned closer to you, a mischievous smile planting itself on his face, “Count me in,”

“Castin!” the Baroness laughed lightly and gently pushed Castin away, ignoring his playfulness. “I was enjoying relaxing with you, to be honest.”

Castin looked at his wife with a tender expression. And the two settled into a comfortable silence. The Baroness moved closer to him, and Castin took this as his cue to lift his arm up, allowing the Baroness to move closer, draping an arm across his chest.

The pair laid like this for a while, enjoying the happiness of the morning. Castin was unsure if his wife had fallen back asleep, but a question was persistent in his mind.

“Sweetheart?” he asked. He felt the Baroness’s head lift slightly against the crook of his arm.

“Hmm?” she hummed lazily, a quietness in her voice he hadn’t often heard. Her eyes were still closed, looking as if she was drifting on the brink of sleep. Her eyelashes rested softly on her cheek. She looked beautiful.

“What did you do before I woke up?”

The Baroness propped herself up lightly, looking up at her husband while blinking away her lingering drowsiness.

“This,” she said, as she rested her head on one of her hands, and began tracing a faint scar on Castin’s chest.

Castin looked at her- confused- for a good second before he understood what she was doing with her finger on his chest.

“Oh..,” he said eyes widening, “Why..why are you doing that, babe?”

A nervous laugh accompanied his words. Upon hearing his hesitant tone, her hand retracted.

“I’m sorry, I was-“ she began, feeling confused and a bit embarrassed. She had never been the best at expressing affection, and when she had awoken, and seen the scars that decorated his skin, she had felt a strange urge to trace those lines of his past. But as she spoke, she was cut off abruptly.

“No- no. You’re good. You’re good. I just-,” his hand rose and ruffled his dark hair, his eyes crossed the room as he took a breath, “No one’s done that before. It…it hit pretty close to home.”

His hand gently rose from his side, placing her hand back on his chest softly. His wife’s finger reached for one of the scars, and she looked up at him, waiting patiently for an unspoken permission. Castin looked at his wife tenderly and gave a nod, a love struck smile beginning to creep on his face. Seeing the gentle look in his eyes, and looking down at how the light from the rising sun shone on his chest, her finger landed softly on one of the scars.

“Yeah, go ahead, babe. I’m all yours,” he said with a relaxed breath.

The Baronesses finger started to move along the faint light line on his skin, from what she assumed was a strike of a sword. After she had traced the mark multiple times, her finger quickly found another one. This one was more obvious.

“If you don’t mind my asking, Castin, how did you get this one?” she said quietly. Castin’s head tilted slightly in response to her question, thinking.

“One of my first training days, actually. Yeah, me and the rest of the men got pretty banged up. No sweat though, it’s all good now sweetheart, I’ve got you,” he replied, kissing the top of the Baronesses head lovingly.

The Baroness continued, gently pressing kisses to some of them. Castin laid there, exposed in what felt like more ways than one. Yes, his body was sprawled on the bed, basking in the warmth of the morning; but there was a vulnerability and an intimacy to what the Baroness was doing. One that he hadn’t felt before. Yes, he’d been with women. But none of them had done this. None of them had gazed lovingly at his scarred body, tracing her fingers lightly upon them with a gentleness and comfort that it felt like it could only be a gift from the Goddess herself. None of them had pressed their sweet lips to the marks of his past, tracing the lines as if she could relieve him of all past pain. All while she too was lying on their shared bed, body intertwined with his. He knew his wife was a busy woman. That wasn’t hard to figure out. But in these moments, moments where she too let down her guard and in the process just brought his down more, he felt truly whole. Being without her would be the greatest wound he could ever receive now. Not any battle injury, not any training mistake, nothing. He had seen ugliness in the world, hell, he’d witnessed it first hand. He’d been a part of bloody and dangerous battles, gone on spine-chilling missions, seen people die and his own friends die with them. His mother had been killed by war.

Yet in this moment, despite the cold and rain that had been his life, he could only feel sunshine. A content joy, rays of sunlight filtering through clouds, like the beams that covered him and his wife at that very moment.

“How did you get this one, dear?” his wife asked, shaking him out of his thoughts. He adjusted to turn towards her more, smiling to himself. In the Baronesses eyes, it was one that rivaled the sun itself. He was the sun in her world too.

“Well, it was one of my first battles..,” and Castin continued on, telling her the tale of how he had earned that one. His tales continued all throughout the morning. Laughter and tears would follow, filling the walls of the room with the rest of the light from the sun as it finally finished rising.

In the midst of all the dark of the world, the two had found each other, exposed each other’s scars, and made sunlight out of their lives.