It's a valiant, but futile effort that Namor makes, to maintain his anger. But eventually he relents.

He leans up to press a deep kiss to Stephen's lips. "Do that again and I'll castrate you myself."

Stephen chuckles, tipping their foreheads together.

"No. You're far too fond of me for that."

"As did I! You made a choice, Stephen."

The water works to knit his flesh together quickly, bruises fading in a matter of minutes.

"You have a bubble of invulnerability, my love." Stephen reasons. "I trusted you to take care of yourself and you did."

Stephen rolls the sleeves of his undershirt to his elbows, huffing.

Of course he's still pouting about that.

"I told you, Dagger needed my help." He kneels next to the tub, dipping a cloth into the water and dabbing at a nasty cut on Namor's cheek. Namor glares.

"You're being childish." Stephen sighs. "Let me see."

Namor jerks away from his outstretched hand, hissing as he slips into Stephen's claw-footed bathtub.

"Get away from me, you brute." He grits. "Go fuss over your new lady-love."

Brute? That's a bit much.

is it good? I’ve heard its like animal crossing and honestly im thinking of copping 👀

does he know?? He HAS to know GOD HES STILL AN ARCHIVIST EVEN WHEN HE ISNT AND HE NAMED HIMSELF ‘PEACE’ ill never get over this

no one’s hands are clean in this. I see the blood and it aches. all we can do is keep going, but it feels as if a veil has been lifted. it’s hard to look at my country—no, my people—the same. I thought we were better than this. I thought love still superseded selfishness. hard knowing it doesn’t.

that’s not to say all hope is lost—there is ALWAYS hope—but it does confirm many women’s worst fears about the men around them. either they hate them enough to vote for their oppression, or they’ve stood by long enough to let their friends and brothers and fathers become that hateful.