and it rains, and rains, and rains

we shall heal our wounds, collect our dead

Monsoon season is crap. That’s Ronin’s honest opinion, after endless, endless rain. He’s been trapped in the house, at least that’s how it feels - and it’s messed with him.

Sleep hasn’t come easily, and his stupid antler nub things are itchy, and he’s generally annoyed with the world. It explains why he’s napping fitfully on the couch in their living room, a cold compress on his forehead to cover his embarrassment of a partial shift.

He’s not alone at least - Sugar is curled up on the back of the couch, and - wonder of wonders - Ianto is sprawled across his lap as a fox; a streak of copper in the shadows. They’re all asleep, in the ruddy light of the fire, snoring softly, making a pretty little picture. If only someone could come along and ruin it.

THE DARK STAR

and continue fighting

lay a whisper on my pillow, leave the winter on the ground

It might be a pretty picture to someone else's eyes. For Remi, who has just come in from the world outside, it's...halting. Though it's easy to endure Ianto as a fox, there is something extremely upsetting about seeing your former lover sleeping on top of your husband, even if said lover is an adorable ball of copper fur.

Scratching irritatedly against the back of his head and not bothering to dry himself off, Remi strips off his shirt and pants, before plodding grumpily into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of wine. Begrudgingly he pours two more, and carefully brings the three cups into the living room. With no magic to assist with this, Remi holds the stemware clumsily, setting them down heavily onto the table next to Ronin and Ianto, before depositing himself with a huff before the fire.

THE ALCHEMIST

i wake up lonely, this air of silence, in the bedroom and all around

we shall heal our wounds, collect our dead

The sound of the glasses on the table wakes Ianto first, then Ronin - the fox snorts and sits himself up, blinking between the two men before jumping off the sofa and padding away elsewhere. He’s not the type to interrupt a meeting between lovers (no, he doesn’t count), and Remi’s got his brooding face on. Giving a small yip to the Alchemist, he disappears into the kitchen.

Ronin is less graceful in his awakening, stretching out mightily with a crack of his back, missing the warmth of a small copper ball of fur, but spotting something better in front of the fire. ”Hey,” he mumbles, his voice rough, the compress falling away from his face as he rolls off the couch.

”You look like the world’s pissed you off. Or is it me?” He smirks, shuffling over to the fire to sink down behind his husband, wrapping his arms around him.

THE DARK STAR

and continue fighting

lay a whisper on my pillow, leave the winter on the ground

Rude as it might be, the Alchemist only has eyes for Ronin. So as Ianto barks in his direction and heads off, the fox receives only a cursory nod from Remi, who quickly focuses his attention back on his husband.

Grumbling as Ronin makes his way over, Remi wraps his arms around him as if he's some giant stuffed animal. Grumbling something incomprehensible against Ronin's shoulder as he lets his face heavily rest against it, the Alchemist heaves a lengthy sigh before finally pulling back enough to give Ronin a look. "No, never you." He mumbles perhaps a touch sheepishly before his eyes raise to where bits of bloody skin have matted into Ronin's hair. Crinkling his nose slightly Remi softly pulls at a loose piece of shed-velvet, murmuring a sympathetic groan in the back of his throat.

"Still bad, mmmm?" He asks of the hunter's shedding. Having no shifts that go through anything remotely like this, other than what he feels through their bond, Remi has no real concept of what it is Ronin is going through.

THE ALCHEMIST

i wake up lonely, this air of silence, in the bedroom and all around

we shall heal our wounds, collect our dead

Letting out a gentle laugh, Ronin winds his arms around Remi in return, pressing kiss after kiss to the Alchemist’s curls, his cheeks, his forehead. ”Then what?” he asks, before the attention turns to his ruined antlers. Groaning as he’s reminded of the sight of them, the Star wrinkles his nose and flinches a bit when Remi’s fingers come up towards them.

”Mmhm,” he says through a sigh. ”Vai says they’ll grow out during Longheat, all velvety and nice. And then there’ll be a horror show worse than this one when they turn to bone.” It sounds awful, and it feels worse. ”I feel less like a proud and prancing luxere, to be sure.”

THE DARK STAR

and continue fighting

lay a whisper on my pillow, leave the winter on the ground

"It happened again." The Alchemist replies in a dull voice. It could mean any number of things, given the lives he and Ronin have led. So he points at the wine glass left out for Ianto as he would do, if he was going to use magic to bring it near. Precisely nothing happens.

Remi wrinkles his nose unhappily at this description, fixing his husband with a disturbed sort of stare. "I wouldn't have thought...given that Luxere are these serene-looking creatures of light.." In his minds-eye he sees a herd of bloody white luxere, braying and stomping their feet in misery. "You'll always be a proud and prancing Luxere to me." Remi says with boyish affection, leaning against Ronin. "Is there anything I can do?"

THE ALCHEMIST

i wake up lonely, this air of silence, in the bedroom and all around

we shall heal our wounds, collect our dead

Ronin’s brow furrows - it really could mean any number of things, the Star following Remi’s gaze as he tries to summon the glass to them, only for it to stay disappointingly on the table. Ohhhh. ”I’m so sorry,” he mutters, and he means it - magic has become a huge part of his husband; it’s one of the only times he sees him filled with joy, in truth. Capturing Remi’s hand, Ronin presses his fingertips to his lips, like he can breathe the magic back in.

Wrinkling his nose, he nods his agreement at the image of the luxere that springs to his mind as well. ”We only see them when they’re all glowing and pretty,” he mumbles, touching a careful hand to where the antlers are starting to grow, only to regret it in an instant. ”Want to get a knife and help dig them out of my head?” he suggests miserably, only soothed by the affirmation that he is both proud and prancing to his husband.

”You’re here. That’s enough.” He slips his arms back around Remi, burying his nose in his curls. ”I’ve been having weird dreams again,” he admits softly.

THE DARK STAR

and continue fighting

lay a whisper on my pillow, leave the winter on the ground

"It's fine I just..." Remi's ribs and shoulders expand as he sucks in a breath. His forearms tense and his fingers threaten to turn inwards on his palm. "...fuck." He huffs, exhaling angrily as feathers course through his wet curls. He wishes he had some notice, or some fucking control. Instead of smashing things as he very much wants to, he merely swipes at his eyes with the back of the hand not currently in Ronin's.

"I could. Or we could go stand outside until the rain makes us too numb to feel anything at all." Remi quips back with a lazy smile.

Weird dreams.

Remi's heart pounds, and though he tries to stay calm (he doesn't quite, his muscles tensing again and quite obviously too), he's sure Ronin knows exactly why. Thoughts of the hunter blue eyes bordered by Safrin's creamy thighs fill his mind, and he swallows hard to try and hide the revulsion that wants to coat his tongue. "Weird like...Safrin-type dreams?" The Alchemist asks, his fingers curling possessively around Ronin's hip.

THE ALCHEMIST

i wake up lonely, this air of silence, in the bedroom and all around

we shall heal our wounds, collect our dead

Ronin can’t give back what was taken away. He can’t stop Remi’s anger, and nor does he want to. So he merely breathes out a long and deep sigh, giving his husband’s hand a squeeze, holding it firmly in his own, and lets the fingers of his free hand gently caress through the feathers that have started to spring through soft curls. On the back of the couch Sugar stirs as well, crooning across to the Alchemist in what almost sounds like an agreement with his assessment of the situation: fuck indeed.

”You know,” Ronin says quietly, ”I think I’d like that a lot.” But before he can gather Remi up in his arms and make off with him, the subject has moved to his dreams, and its with a heavy sense of guilt that he nods to the other man. ”Nothing like before,” he says, sounding tired, bemused. ”She’s watching, it feels like. But I’m facing... a trial, or something. It’s like a gladiator’s arena.”

Sitting back a fraction, he holds out his forearms for Remi to see. In the light of the fire, the constellations are bright and glittering and prominent against his skin.

THE DARK STAR

and continue fighting

lay a whisper on my pillow, leave the winter on the ground

It's what he loves most about Ronin these days. The Star is never quick to offer platitudes or half-baked solutions. He doesn't pretend to understand when he doesn't. And the support he does provide? It's always genuine. It's frustrated when it needs to be, it's strong when the situation calls for it, but always, always, is it heartfelt. Gods, of only Remi could thank him enough for it. "All I want is to tear into something." He admits, glancing from Ronin to Sugar and nodding. Perhaps his co-predator will feel up for a hunt later if Ronin doesn't.

Remi won't say he isn't relieved, nor does he hide the way he exhales the breath he'd been holding. His shoulders sag and quickly his expression becomes one of confusion as Ronin mentions it being like an arena. Like some sort of test. "What more could you possibly have to prove to her?" Remi demands with a snarl, knowing that there is no one in the room who could give an appropriate answer.

Tracing the marks with his forefinger, Remi's eyes narrow as he studies what he sees. He touches Ronin not like one who is intimately familiar with the canvas before him, but like some sort of chronicler who has been given access to ancient writings, but only for a short time. It demands all of his focus and care, and for a moment all he sees are the starry imprints on his husband's skin. "Do you wake up wounded, from these dreams?" He wants to know, glancing up through thick lashes.

THE ALCHEMIST

i wake up lonely, this air of silence, in the bedroom and all around

we shall heal our wounds, collect our dead

”What would you like to tear into?” Ronin asks, his blue eyes remarkably gentle given what he’s asking. ”Cloud manta get blown this way by the monsoon. There will be herds of ramphire nearby too, I imagine. Or we could go and catch ourselves a ghost whale.” Yes, the last suggestion was absurd on purpose, but the others are genuine.

He surrenders his arms to his husband for inspection, adoring the way the Alchemist is so consumed by what he sees. His concentration is all-encompassing, his touch delicate, and Ronin watches Remi with the same intensity that he looks at the tattoos. ”Perhaps it’s just her way of spending time with me,” he says slowly.

Blinking out of his trance at the next question, Ronin looks himself over with mild confusion. ”I don’t think so,” he says. ”I get wounded, in my dreams, but... I’m saved. By these.” He nods at the constellations, freeing one hand to capture Remi’s, and using his husband’s finger to trace the gold markings. ”Virgo,” he names, circling one series of stars. ”And Aquarius.” He moves to the other.

THE DARK STAR

and continue fighting

lay a whisper on my pillow, leave the winter on the ground

"Bigger than a manta." The Alchemist breathes. Sometimes his shaky-rage closely resembles his inability to focus during focus. His eyes stop being able to focus, his fingers clench, and all willpower disappears. This is that same sort of short-breathed agitation, only with a much more deadly list of requirements for satisfaction. "Not enough flesh on a ghost whale." Remi says with a dark chuckle, the edges of his teeth already becoming slightly pointed.

Remi growls at that, though likely he isn't even aware he's doing it. He hates how the goddess can just waltz into his husband's dreams, spending lifetimes with him behind closed eyes, all in a world of her own creation. Letting his hand be taken and guided, Remi watches as his husband names the cluster of patterns on his skin. He locks the words away, nodding softly. "I'm glad for that. Seeing as there were...implications last time." Those implications of course being Safrin's resulting pregnancy.

"Ludo deals in dreams...I wonder if I could ever follow you in. What Safrin would think, if she saw me at the gates of your mind..." Remi smiles darkly and recklessly at that.

"What do they do?" He asks of these new emblems.

THE ALCHEMIST

i wake up lonely, this air of silence, in the bedroom and all around

we shall heal our wounds, collect our dead

”Ramphire, then,” Ronin says softly, reaching up to let a hand cup his husband’s cheek, a thumb running over the line of his jaw, over lips and teeth that have turned pointed. Quite when the gentle, beautiful creature he fell head over heels for became this glorious man marred by darkness Ronin doesn’t know, but gods if he doesn’t love him even harder for it. ”Mm, you and me both. No implications yet, though I believe there may have been, if I hadn’t been saved.”

It’s a curious thing, the idea of Remi following Ronin into his dreams - the Star is struck by it, soothed by it in ways he can’t comprehend. ”I’d like that,” he says with a lopsided smile. As for what his new shackles do? ”Let’s find out.” His arms sneak around his husband more tightly, Ronin leaning in for a quick kiss that lasts only as long as it takes for him to pull them to their feet.

Remi has already stripped off and there’s no point dressing again (he’ll warm him up later), so Ronin merely leads them to the door, stepping out into the storm. ”Go on,” he invites. ”Go let off some steam. I’ll follow your lead.”

THE DARK STAR

and continue fighting

REMI

if you're not going to swim deep with me

Remi's eyes slip shut as Ronin's fingers come to press against his cheeks. He's a strange mixture of submissiveness and deadly power, and he's thankful that Ronin allows him to linger in this strange divide than to try and force him out of it before he's ready. Growling at that notion, his eyes open into slits that regard Ronin's wrists with contempt. "It's hard to be grateful for your safety when it's all her doing." He mutters, the snarl falling away entirely as his gaze falls against Ronin's.

"Then consider it done." The Alchemist whispers against his husband's lips and rising when he does.

It's true Remi is only wearing his underwear currently, but it hardly matters. His body isn't built for the sort of aggression his soul craves just now; not his current body, anyway. The world outside is as horrifying as it is life-giving. Violent streaks of near-white snap across the ocean, and thunder rumbles in hasty pursuit of the sheet lightning. Pulling in a deep breath of heavy and charged air, Remi steps off their porch already in mid-shift, growing and contorting before his feet can reach the sand.

Turning a maned-head over his shoulder, the manticore snarls a smile that is both relieved, grateful, and frenzied. His tail snaps and curls over his hindquarters as he picks up an easy lope towards the treed-area not terribly far behind their house. He's seen herds of Ramphire there recently, and with any luck they'll be there again.

get out of my waters

Coding base by Sky!