REMI
the bastion
What good are hands
if there's nothing that they hold
if there's nothing that they hold
Remi leans into the embrace without hesitation, tucking his shoulder beneath Mort’s arm like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Few places feel as safe, as sure, as sitting beside the god who once welcomed him to this new life with open arms and an endless well of patience.
Mort’s words settle into his chest like warmth steeped in honey, and the Bastion nods, once, twice, his throat too tight for a moment to speak. But the curve of his mouth gives him away—relief and affection mingling in his expression like seafoam in tidepools. "Thank you," he says quietly. "Truly."
Then, because it’s him, his gaze flicks sideways with a mischievous glint. "But you’ll have to promise not to tell Vi. No divine pillow talk. This part’s a surprise." He lifts the thermos as if toasting with it, lips twitching into a grin. "We both know Ronin’s terrible at pretending he doesn’t know things, so I'll know if you've said something."
He lets the breeze fill the silence for a moment, then sighs, content and golden. "I’ll plan it right," he promises, already turning the idea over in his head like a smooth stone. "They’ll come. I’ll make sure they know they’re welcome."
And just like that, the Bastion lets the moment settle around them, two warm cups on the sand and the tide lapping gently at the edge of something sacred.
~FIN
Mort’s words settle into his chest like warmth steeped in honey, and the Bastion nods, once, twice, his throat too tight for a moment to speak. But the curve of his mouth gives him away—relief and affection mingling in his expression like seafoam in tidepools. "Thank you," he says quietly. "Truly."
Then, because it’s him, his gaze flicks sideways with a mischievous glint. "But you’ll have to promise not to tell Vi. No divine pillow talk. This part’s a surprise." He lifts the thermos as if toasting with it, lips twitching into a grin. "We both know Ronin’s terrible at pretending he doesn’t know things, so I'll know if you've said something."
He lets the breeze fill the silence for a moment, then sighs, content and golden. "I’ll plan it right," he promises, already turning the idea over in his head like a smooth stone. "They’ll come. I’ll make sure they know they’re welcome."
And just like that, the Bastion lets the moment settle around them, two warm cups on the sand and the tide lapping gently at the edge of something sacred.
~FIN
And what good are hearts
if you bury them all alone?
if you bury them all alone?
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.
