fresh out the slammer

honey, you're familiar like my mirror years ago

In a perfect pantomime of the :grimace: face, Remi's eyes widen as he imagines it. "I don't even know what to say." Only just able to keep himself from bursting out laughing, the Bastion presses his tongue against the inside of his cheek and hides his smile behind the rim of his mug. Not that Remi often found himself wanting to view Safrin when he closed his eyes, but gods he might just keep that particular scene on repeat for the next few nights.

"Mm?" Glancing up with a birdlike tilt of his head, Remi frowns. "Oh, right." Demigods to the Big Gods now though they both might be, Vi and Mort's heralds would still be a part of their lives.

Reaching out for his husband's arm and tracing the skin with his fingertips, a renewed ripple of joy shivers up from the base of Remi's spine. "Thank fuck for that." Lightly clawing his nails down Ronin's wrist, the Bastion's lips parted such was the force of his relieved sigh. "I always hated them. So very much." They'd been worse than any scar, no matter how brutally the method of its making had been. Safrin's tattoos, her shackles had ever been the ugliest thing on his husband's skin.

innocence died screaming, honey, ask me i should know