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 lungs tighten with relief and exhaustion in equal measure as he feels the hot spring’s waters sink through his torn clothes and into his scorched flesh. Each ragged breath tugs at the gashes where her claws and lightning found him, but pain is no longer his chief concern. He’s too focused on the Valkyrie, held securely against his chest. The steady pulse of her heart against him—where once he felt only frantic beats and venom—tells him she’s with him again. Entirely herself, at last.
He barely hears the shuffle of footsteps on stone until Deimos’s voice echoes through the quiet, a presence as unmistakable as his own. Drawing in a deeper breath, Remi forces himself to lift his head and meet the Sword’s gaze. The question, simple as it is, feels immense in its breadth. “We made it.” The Bastion’s throat moves in a stiff swallow, a wry and weary smile flickering across his lips. “She’s here,” he manages, voice hoarse, “She’s safe.” It’s all he can offer for now; it’s both everything and not nearly enough.
Hotaru’s quiet stirring presses her cheek more firmly to his chest, and Remi’s muscles tense in anticipation of another struggle. But no, she only breathes his name—or perhaps only breathes—and then calls out for Deimos with the fragility of a child and the strength of a queen. Her final words, however, ring out like a dagger thrown into silence.
Remi bows his head, allowing the healing waters to ease a fresh rush of pain from his muscles before he speaks. “We’ll figure it out,” he murmurs, uncertain if he’s addressing her, Deimos, or perhaps some part of himself that fears what comes next. “Just...rest.” And with a quiet exhale, he adjusts his grip around her, as if to assure them both she’s still anchored here—still alive, still Hotaru, but free to do as she likes now that the violet chains of the Family have been lifted.
He barely hears the shuffle of footsteps on stone until Deimos’s voice echoes through the quiet, a presence as unmistakable as his own. Drawing in a deeper breath, Remi forces himself to lift his head and meet the Sword’s gaze. The question, simple as it is, feels immense in its breadth. “We made it.” The Bastion’s throat moves in a stiff swallow, a wry and weary smile flickering across his lips. “She’s here,” he manages, voice hoarse, “She’s safe.” It’s all he can offer for now; it’s both everything and not nearly enough.
Hotaru’s quiet stirring presses her cheek more firmly to his chest, and Remi’s muscles tense in anticipation of another struggle. But no, she only breathes his name—or perhaps only breathes—and then calls out for Deimos with the fragility of a child and the strength of a queen. Her final words, however, ring out like a dagger thrown into silence.
Remi bows his head, allowing the healing waters to ease a fresh rush of pain from his muscles before he speaks. “We’ll figure it out,” he murmurs, uncertain if he’s addressing her, Deimos, or perhaps some part of himself that fears what comes next. “Just...rest.” And with a quiet exhale, he adjusts his grip around her, as if to assure them both she’s still anchored here—still alive, still Hotaru, but free to do as she likes now that the violet chains of the Family have been lifted.
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.
