the bastion
i don't want the world to see me,
because I don't think they'd understand
because I don't think they'd understand
Remi’s wings have grown heavier with every mile, blood oozing sluggishly from gashes in his arms and across his torso. A brilliant burn scorches the side of his neck where Hotaru’s lightning has kissed him, the acrid scent of singed feathers still clinging in the cold air. Every muscle feels frayed, his vision doubling at the edges, but not once does he loosen his hold around the Valkyrie. She’s quiet now, though whether it’s from pain or the final collapse of her strength he cannot say. The sky bruises around them in the purple half-light of dawn as the ruins of the Fangs come into view—jagged edges worn away by time and turmoil, open caverns hollowed out by melting ice and collapsed stone.
He spots the curl of steam wafting toward them like an offering from the gods. Gripping Hotaru more securely, he banks low, angling his descent until at last they plummet in a ragged spiral. His landing is hardly graceful; he staggers on impact, knees buckling, feet sliding on the slick ground where remnants of snow melt at the spring’s edge. But there is no time to compose himself. Remi kicks off again in a stumble, wings and arms coiled tight around Hotaru, and plunges into the steaming waters. The moment they’re submerged, a hush seems to envelop them—an almost sacred stillness in which only the muffled roar of his pulse remains.
The water is warm and shockingly soothing against every wound, every place she bit and clawed at him in her desperate attempt to remain infected. Sinking deeper, Remi shifts Hotaru in his arms until she’s pressed against his chest—an intimacy they’ve barely shared since that single, fated afternoon years ago. It isn’t lust that moves him now, merely a tender ache for all they’ve lost and gained in the tangle of years. Despite everything, she is the mother of his children, and in this fractured moment, that bond is enough to still the trembling in his chest as he silently prays that this will work; that neither she nor Flora will hate him too much for the choices he had made.
That Ronin won't either.
He spots the curl of steam wafting toward them like an offering from the gods. Gripping Hotaru more securely, he banks low, angling his descent until at last they plummet in a ragged spiral. His landing is hardly graceful; he staggers on impact, knees buckling, feet sliding on the slick ground where remnants of snow melt at the spring’s edge. But there is no time to compose himself. Remi kicks off again in a stumble, wings and arms coiled tight around Hotaru, and plunges into the steaming waters. The moment they’re submerged, a hush seems to envelop them—an almost sacred stillness in which only the muffled roar of his pulse remains.
The water is warm and shockingly soothing against every wound, every place she bit and clawed at him in her desperate attempt to remain infected. Sinking deeper, Remi shifts Hotaru in his arms until she’s pressed against his chest—an intimacy they’ve barely shared since that single, fated afternoon years ago. It isn’t lust that moves him now, merely a tender ache for all they’ve lost and gained in the tangle of years. Despite everything, she is the mother of his children, and in this fractured moment, that bond is enough to still the trembling in his chest as he silently prays that this will work; that neither she nor Flora will hate him too much for the choices he had made.
That Ronin won't either.
when everything's meant to be broken,
i just want you to know who I am
i just want you to know who I am
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
