REMI
the alchemist
What good are hands
if there's nothing that they hold
if there's nothing that they hold
Perched around Ronin's shoulders with his masked face pressed close to Ronin's ear that he might chitter his instructions as well as think them, Remi had planned on remaining an adorably fuzzy foreman for the majority of this experiment. It was only when Ronin had slipped on a particularly icy rock that had sent him half under the spray of the falls—and thus necessitating the removal of his shirt—that things had begun to change. Innocently enough, at first, Remi's raccoon paws had begun to trace the lines of his husband's muscles with bits of algae to contour Ronin's body with soft blue-green light. It didn't take long for the raccoon's playful and uncomplicated instincts to be swamped by the Lullaby's sudden and overwhelming desire to feel the glow of Ronin's body beneath his hands. And so he had.
As he'd been shifted when they'd left, Remi hadn't bothered with a jacket and so it's in a pale long-sleeve shirt now smeared with glowing fingerprints and smudges that the Lullaby is dragged inside. Kicking the door shut far too hard and without any concern for the fact that it had banged open again, Remi inhales sharply against his husband's lips before pulling himself back. In the firelight, the flush of the Lullaby's cheeks was a deep maroon, and the pale sea-glass of his eyes had been darkened as if by a brackish sea.
"Ahh, mi è mancato qualcuno di voi." Remi whispers in the travelling tongue, his tone one of self-critique as he tsks under his breath. Dragging his gaze up from Ronin's torso to the Huntsman's face, the Lullaby's eyelashes flutter as the firelight carves out his husband's features in crimson and ash. "Perdonami." He adds softly through lips barely able to move, before dropping to his knees and letting fingertips alight with an aqua-glow sketch out the shape of his desire across Ronin's belly and hips.
As he'd been shifted when they'd left, Remi hadn't bothered with a jacket and so it's in a pale long-sleeve shirt now smeared with glowing fingerprints and smudges that the Lullaby is dragged inside. Kicking the door shut far too hard and without any concern for the fact that it had banged open again, Remi inhales sharply against his husband's lips before pulling himself back. In the firelight, the flush of the Lullaby's cheeks was a deep maroon, and the pale sea-glass of his eyes had been darkened as if by a brackish sea.
"Ahh, mi è mancato qualcuno di voi." Remi whispers in the travelling tongue, his tone one of self-critique as he tsks under his breath. Dragging his gaze up from Ronin's torso to the Huntsman's face, the Lullaby's eyelashes flutter as the firelight carves out his husband's features in crimson and ash. "Perdonami." He adds softly through lips barely able to move, before dropping to his knees and letting fingertips alight with an aqua-glow sketch out the shape of his desire across Ronin's belly and hips.
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.
