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 fingers thread tightly with Ronin’s as they leave behind the last golden curls of torchlight, the sound of the tide carrying just enough to hush the world around them. The sand is cool beneath their feet, the horizon stitched with stars, and with each step away from the party, the ache in Remi’s chest—sated by laughter, by old friends, by the ghosts that drifted through—gives way to something altogether hungrier.
His thumb draws slow, lazy circles along Ronin’s palm, his voice dropping low as they wander up the strand. "You know," he murmurs in the travelling tongue, letting the words curl around them like silk, "I’ve spent all night thinking about just how slowly you peeled me out of my suit the night we got married." There’s a wicked gleam in his eye, his grin a challenge half-swallowed by affection. "Ten years later and I'll finally have my revenge. Maybe before that I'll drag you into the sea, or—better—strip you bare and—"
The rest is lost to the hush and rush of the ocean. Remi pauses, head tilting as a sound pricks through the salt-heavy air—a voice, uncertain and achingly familiar, reaching for them through the dark. He stops dead, every muscle taut with disbelief. For a heartbeat he’s a man made of nerves and memory, the world shrinking down to the sound of Ashe’s trembling greeting. There’s a question caught in the bond—shock, sharp and bright, tumbling into hope before he can stop it.
For a moment he simply stares, searching the shape of her—alive, impossibly so—his breath snagging in his chest. Then his face breaks open in wonder, his hand tightening around Ronin’s as if anchoring himself in the real. "You came," Remi breathes, the words ragged with joy and the ghost of all those years she wasn’t here.
And before the world can right itself, he’s moving—reaching for Ashe, gathering her up in his arms and pulling her close, not just to himself but to Ronin too. His embrace is fierce and unguarded, full of all the things he’s carried for a decade and never said, all the loss and love that binds them. She was the reason Ronin had come back from the dead, after all. "Gods, Ashe. You’re really here," he says, voice thick with wonder and relief.
His thumb draws slow, lazy circles along Ronin’s palm, his voice dropping low as they wander up the strand. "You know," he murmurs in the travelling tongue, letting the words curl around them like silk, "I’ve spent all night thinking about just how slowly you peeled me out of my suit the night we got married." There’s a wicked gleam in his eye, his grin a challenge half-swallowed by affection. "Ten years later and I'll finally have my revenge. Maybe before that I'll drag you into the sea, or—better—strip you bare and—"
The rest is lost to the hush and rush of the ocean. Remi pauses, head tilting as a sound pricks through the salt-heavy air—a voice, uncertain and achingly familiar, reaching for them through the dark. He stops dead, every muscle taut with disbelief. For a heartbeat he’s a man made of nerves and memory, the world shrinking down to the sound of Ashe’s trembling greeting. There’s a question caught in the bond—shock, sharp and bright, tumbling into hope before he can stop it.
For a moment he simply stares, searching the shape of her—alive, impossibly so—his breath snagging in his chest. Then his face breaks open in wonder, his hand tightening around Ronin’s as if anchoring himself in the real. "You came," Remi breathes, the words ragged with joy and the ghost of all those years she wasn’t here.
And before the world can right itself, he’s moving—reaching for Ashe, gathering her up in his arms and pulling her close, not just to himself but to Ronin too. His embrace is fierce and unguarded, full of all the things he’s carried for a decade and never said, all the loss and love that binds them. She was the reason Ronin had come back from the dead, after all. "Gods, Ashe. You’re really here," he says, voice thick with wonder and relief.
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.
