the baffled king composing hallelujah
Ronin feels like a fucking hero, filled with the righteous vengeance of a thousand suns, yadda yadda yadda... right up until the point where he realises that he’s vaporised the damned hel and there’s no wedding ring in sight. Flopping back to sit on the cloud, he peers over the side of it and down into the churning waves, brow furrowing. Clearing his throat, he offers a small smile to his hawk-husband and itches at the stubble on his chin.
”Remi, oh love of my life... You know when you said that hel swallowed your wedding ring, you think, do you reckon you might have been wrong? Is it possible it just dropped it on the roof of our house? Maybe?” And has Ronin just popped a bird into a pile of feathers for apparently no reason?
”Remi, oh love of my life... You know when you said that hel swallowed your wedding ring, you think, do you reckon you might have been wrong? Is it possible it just dropped it on the roof of our house? Maybe?” And has Ronin just popped a bird into a pile of feathers for apparently no reason?
