#telamn

[benydikta]

offers her an apple.

     ･     𝚄𝙽𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃𝙴𝙳    :     @telamn !

two weeks after she can move again without the pain lodged in the side of her skull, off-balanced in her ribs, cid unlocks his solar door——there's a lecture and a half about trust, about making her way through life the way she might want, about dreams that are attainable if you reach hard enough for them, but cid is a sentimental fool and she thinks mostly he's tired of finding his room in a mess when he returns, the curl of her mouth self-satisfied when he picks papers off the floor the dozenth time.

it's petty. it's spiteful for no other reason than to see his exhaustion pull at this crow's feet harder than it used to, every act of her punitive resistance a way to soothe the hummingbird trappings of her heart. she doesn't know this cid.

in waloed, in the space between not knowing he was leaving and knowing, she'd catch him up on those high-rise balconies with cigarettes in his mouth, the shadows to him long and stretched in the lean of his body. he couldn't be interrupted then, and he couldn't be interrupted even less when he was five jugs of mead in, his eyes glassy but as if saying they were never quite glassy enough, laughter a spilt stain on wooden grooves of pub tables.

she did intrude on him once and only once——took the cigarette right out of his mouth. "if it bothers you so much," she said, her tongue full of smoke, "why not just leave?" as if you would was the implication behind it, though sometimes she did think on the still water days of it just being the two of them——how little she had known of the world and how much he had seemed to know the whole of it, the palms of her hands full of blisters and camp firelight punctuated by the worst cooked food you had ever tasted, his electric outline leftover static in her breastbone.

she didn't know then how close she was to the breach in his hull; the very start of all their wreckage, driftwood on an ashen beach. back then, he just treated it like she caught him in a secret, his hand palming his hair in that usual exasperated way of his, always half into a complaint before knowing better. "what, and give up this dream we both care so much about?"

when he hunted around for another cig, she had taken that one too. there was always an affection to him a hair's breadth from his annoyance that she always dared to pull out——never tiring of seeing it there, and him never tiring of showing it. the conversation didn't really matter to her as much then as disrupting the thundercloud of his thoughts, to have that untroubled, warm and drowsy air back into the slots of her fingers.

benedikta thought that weight to him was war. she thought she could soothe it out of him as he soothed it out of her, gingerly tracing the knobs of her wretched, flight-weary spine.

"no more running?" she had murmured when they had both still believed in barnabas' promises——while he was still a king with a brightly-shining, comet-streaked dream, and they could taste the starlight.

"no more," cid confirmed, in that constant deep grumble of his, her eye of the storm. she should have told him she loved him on that day more than any other, when they could taste the sea-salt in the air and there was mud on both their boots and the drizzle had matted all of benedikta's hair to her cheeks. the day had been innocuous, but that was kind of the point, sandwiched between points of no return and youth-like naivete.

but she didn't, and she couldn't, for a thousand little reasons but mainly: how his gaze was forever locked on some point over the horizon, and hers on his profile, stubbled with the casual carelessness of travel and that self-assured knowledge he knew his smile could do all the work.

so she just grabbed his hand instead. "still not tired of that, are you?" he said, chaffing, but his fingers had curled around hers.

at the hideaway, cid comes less than he goes, which isn't all that different to when they had both been laboring for waloed, red-cheeked and weary and grateful to collapse into each other on the rare chances they were both home at once. now, however, benedikta is always stuck waiting and resentful towards the peace he carries, her one familiar tether even though there are parts to him she no longer knows.

there is less callousness to him. his shoulders buckle like they used to, but he doesn't carry that all alone——he's happy to have his knees bent, shoulder to shoulder with his charity cases, an open dam overflowing with belief. she shadows him at first, pinched and taught with suspicion, until they're looking up at her too with that undiluted hope so palpable she bites and chews and spits it back out at them.

she doesn't want to be here. she can't be anywhere else. cid is all beseeching eyes and self-sacrificing and he's a person with a hundred people to soothe his ills now, and hundreds more to protect. ultimately, it all boils down to, she's not an irrefutable, untouchable and integral existence to him anymore.

he's doing just fine——and she's breaking and shrieking and sleeping in minutes. "i'll bear all your rage, benedikta," he tells her, long after the lacerations have turned red along his arms and his skin is flecked between her nails, "if that'll soothe you."

it doesn't. it does. it's an unspoken, 'as long as your rage doesn't bleed onto someone else', so she bites into him so deep its his blood dribbling down her chin. she grapples with his large immoveable body and wishes he'd be even the slightest bit malleable. "it won't," she doesn't promise but she swears and she feels him sigh beneath her, sagging.

see, though, that her promises and swears mean nearly nothing——she's fundamentally a liar, after all, and when she's stopped wearing bandages and the scars are all new, freshly healed red flesh, she finds herself weary from resistance, her flashes of outrage lapsing into a strange watchful silence.

they all treat her like a livewire. they should. she fears if she is touched again she might explode, the shrapnel she leaves behind a festering wound of her existence. but cid is stubbornly accepting as he is, as he always has been, and maybe there are things that won't change, threaded into him as tightly as the canvas of his wide open arms.

"apple?" he offers, off-handed, the infamous thing postured precariously in his fingers: and it's a silent peace offering; it's her insurmountable walls letting light seep through.

she takes his apple. rips it from his hand even, snapping it from his hands and pressing it to her mouth before she can have second thoughts. and it's bitter. it's so bitter, with the slightest tinge of sea-salt. "this tastes like shit," she mutters, but there are angry tears in her eyes and she eats it down all the way to its core.

all these years, and she will never tire of his barking, sloppy laughter, the sun streaked in her wings.

[sarastuss-a]

THE MOMENT YOUR'S TO SEIZE : 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎, appearing just at the perfect time ━━━━ bright light flashes, as she brings forth the final blow! golden details upon her 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 reflect the light, is it your own, azem? ❝ i apologize if i stole your thunder, @telamn. ❞ WARRIOR OF LIGHT not above tipping her tongue into humor. ... head turns to face him, ❝ but standing at the sidelines isn't my thing. ❞ 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓, 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 ━━━━ they refuse to ignore those in need. hints of concern visible upon her features. ❝ are you unharmed? ❞ question birthed by his coughs.

[equescaeli]

@telamn || 𝐿𝐼𝒦𝐸𝒟 for a 𝒮𝒯𝒜𝑅𝒯𝐸𝑅

A cloudless sky of beauteous blue was a sight that bought much comfort after witnessing the heavens clouded by the smoke of war for far too long. Every step taken away from the battlefields that had once been shared by Waloed bought an engulfing sense of relief to aching bones and sore bruising - to the consciousness carried by one already weary of such abysmal machinations.

Along the way, however, one had to pause to rest, to check surroundings, to ease back into a slower lifestyle - but for how long, one would never know. Thus the portion of Dragoons that travelled aside the prince chose to set up an encampment - a fire roaring for warmth as evening hours drew closer, tents erected for shelter and rest and yet 't is not there in which he chooses to stay for the moment.

Restlessness often plagued his mind, the weight of war and the responsibilities surrounding sometimes too much for shoulders yet young to the world. Instead, he takes a walk a short distance away and takes time to stare up towards the changing skies - purples and deep pinks creeping in where the most beauteous of blues had once lay; dusk one of his favorite times of day.

Deep into thoughts did he dive, ruminating over all variety of vexations, fears and understandings - knowledge oft a plague as much as the lack of it. Yet such a train of thought was fractured when the brush nearby became tousled and sharp senses sparked with ease familiar.

His head partially turns, sharp eyes analysing both shadow and foliage in an attempt to espy just whom, or mayhap what, may have been there and after but only a moment did he decide that ease would come from being upfront;

"I suggest you make yourself known lest I reach for my lance."

[royalarms]

what kind of catharsis do you need?

. . . i took this quiz twice and i love both the results for noct sooo

TEARS .

You’ve been holding it all in for so long, haven’t you? It seems like there’s no time, no space to fall apart. But you don’t have to pretend to not be hurting. The tide of pain in you is cresting. Let it out. There’s no judgement here.

SLEEP .

Tired, aren't you? That's okay -- it's been a long, long day. Can you even remember the last time you've had a nice rest, when you were truly at peace? How long have you been running on empty for, anyway? Please, sit, drink something warm, close your eyes. There will be time in the morning to do everything that needs to be done.

TAGGED BY : @13nth ( thank u !! i rlly had fun with this one hehe )

TAGGING : @otlaw , @starshcwer , @onegil , @lunabrae , @curenone , @benydikta , @telamn , @braskide , @ignominiy , @asterites , @violevin ( no pressure to do this ! if ur not tagged and you'd like to do this , u can feel free to steal <3 i'd love to see everyone's )

[opyre]

HOW DOES YOUR MUSE CARRY EMOTIONS ?

ANGER.     jaw clenching,   hands balling into fists,   teeth grinding,   yelling,   going non verbal,   stuttering speech,   rushed speech,   slow concise speech,   rambling,   quiet,   arms crossing,   shaking head,   tearing up,   animated,   expressionless,   projects,   internalizes,   vents,   withdraws,   passive aggressive,   direct,   physical outbursts,  verbal outbursts.

JOY.        easy smiles,   fighting back grins,   suppressed laughter,   loud laughter,   giggles,   chuckling,   smirks,   whole body laughs,   covers mouth when laughing / giggling,   throws head back when laughing,   slaps leg,   touches people around them when laughing,   looks down when laughing,   looks for eye contact when laughing,   sparkling eyes,   bubbly happiness,   quiet subtle happiness,   obnoxious happiness,   wants to spread joy,   quietly savours joy.

SADNESS.   crying,   bottling it up,   seeks distractions,   wallows,   meditates,  trains and processes,   avoidance,   seeks out comfort,   withdraws,  talks it out,   internalizes it,    sad smiles,   depression naps,   uses alcohol,   uses drugs,   seeks out sources of joy,   fidgets with sentimental item,   sits in silence,   broods,   gets moody,  wants someone to share the misery, tries to hide negative emotions,   nurtures others to make themselves feel better.

EMBARRASSMENT / SHAME.         blushing,   looking away,   rubbing at back of head,   covering face,   laughing nervously,   laughs it off,   overthinks,   lets it go,   self deprecating humor,   deflects,   gets irritated,   smiles,   withdraws,   crossing arms over stomach,   crossing arms over chest,   hands in pockets,   shoulders sinking,  shrugs,   falling into silence until comfortable again,   talking a lot to compensate.

GUILT.         avoiding eye contact,   shoulders sinking low,   head hanging down,   crying,   chest aches,   lashes out,   internalizes,   apologizes,   deflects,   communicates,   withdraws,   grand gestures for forgiveness,   accepts fault easily,   punishes themselves,   martyrdom,   victim complex,   guilt complex,   healthy conscience,   internalizes even after forgiveness,   seeking redemption,   moves on easily,   denial,   lack of guilt / conscience,  sorry they got caught more than caused harm,  can’t handle knowing they hurt others.

FEAR / ANXIETY.     trembling,   crying,   sarcasm / sass to cope,   rambles,   goes silent,   gets angry,   fidgeting,   clenching jaw,   picking at nails,   chewing at lip,   pulling at clothes,   adjusting jewellery / clothing,   swallowing thickly,   eyes widening,   over-reacts,   under-reacts,   calm,   logical,   panic,   irrational,   overthinks,   carefully analyzes,   talks to themselves,   breathing exercises,   flight,   fight,   withdraw,   fawn.

** some of these are situational , so i have italicized a lot of them (they may seem contradictory) ! i could go more in depth on it but that's for another time :)

TAGGED BY : @dhnte ! ( thank u so much i love these things hehe )

TAGGING : @starshcwer / @keyschosen , @youmourn , @onegil , @wistrea , @adureus , @strfe , @telamn , @benydikta , @zhylia , @braskide ♡ no pressure at all to fill it out but i thought it'd be fun :)

[sylksheeeee-a]

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 - 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐒 𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

slowburn or love at first sight

fake dating or secret dating

enemies to lovers or best friends to lovers

oh no there’s only one bed or long-distance correspondence

hurt/comfort or amnesia

fantasy au or modern au

mutual pining or domestic bliss

smut or fluff

canon-compliant or fix-it

reincarnation or character death

kid fic or road trip fic

arranged marriage or accidental marriage

college romance or middle-aged romance

time travel or isolated together

neighbors or roommates

sci-fi au or magic au

angst or crack

apocalyptic or mundane

tagged by. stole from @telamn ! tagging. @chmerical , @redemptioninterlude , @sunxsin , @prettydead , @onegil , @americanedpsycho , @muutos , @liightbringr , @thcrmr , @cwarscars & whoever else would like to do it!!!

[runeshield]

a lowkey final fantasy multi. written by taylor. 29, she / her. don't be fuckin weird. a work in progress while i set stuff up, muses to change as i feel like it. find me on #telamn for vibe reference.

ft. yuffie kisaragi of final fantasy vii, madam m of final fantasy vii remake, snow villiers of final fantasy xiii, midadol telamon and gav of final fantasy xvi. › character notes. * bold notes a primary focus.

affiliated with #otlaw and #blighteds by default.

[benydikta]

   [     ･     @telamn    :         submits to her deadly embrace.

𝚂𝙷𝙴'𝚂 𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙿𝙻𝙴𝚃𝙴𝙻𝚈 𝙲𝙻𝙾𝚂𝙴-𝙻𝙸𝙿𝙿𝙴𝙳 𝙰 𝚆𝙴𝙴𝙺 𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙾 𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝚁𝙴𝚂𝙲𝚄𝙴.     the man named cidolfus has cracked twenty-seven jokes in the meantime.     she's counted each one,     her suspicion twisted in every tight muscle.     with a strange and otherworldly audacity,     he just smiles back.     benedikta doesn't think much into why he rescued her if only because she's determined it will reveal itself in time     ━    but he's sloppy,   casual,     and much too unprepared altogether to have her in tow for it to be as nefarious as she first believes.

she's had enough of trust   AND SHE DOESN'T TRUST HIM.   but she feels that maybe,     sitting at the fire across from him,     her knees drawn up to her chest,     she can give him an inch:     if not because he's the reason she survived so far,     then because she's never been saved by someone else before.        ‘‘  my name is benedikta,  ’’      she mutters,     her face pinching,        ‘‘  so you can stop using all those weird replacements.  ’’      

[benydikta]

“   i can handle all the dirty work .   ”

 ･    𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙶𝙳𝙾𝙼 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝚁𝚃𝚂 358/2 𝙳𝙰𝚈𝚂 𝚂���𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂 :     ... open!

there's gore up to her elbows ㅤ  and her skintight leather clothes feel less like a glove than the hot slick heat of late afternoon. ㅤ  it could be a synonym for love, to benedikta, ㅤ  the act of violence; ㅤ  bliss built inside the crypt of her own gratuitous death. ㅤ  in the deranged portrait of her side-profile,ㅤ   does cid see a beast or a woman? ㅤ  see the claws or her russet hands? ㅤ  for him it must be both, presence a rag to wipe away the stain, ㅤ  carefully pulled through the webbing of her unclenching fingers.

he's still a hero and she's still decidedly not, ㅤ  deciding between the underbelly of a wounded animal and the decapitated head of a snake. there's venom. ㅤ  there's her bite, healing over cid's jugular. ㅤ  and   ──   there's the bodies on the ground in the mud in a wet morning somewhere around eastpool. ㅤ  they were in the way: ㅤ  it wraps up neatly for benedikta like that, kicking a body that comes underfoot,ㅤ   faceless and decidedly ordinary. ㅤ  but, ㅤ  but,ㅤ   but, ㅤ  but it is never as uncomplicated for cid, her decorated general, stench of salt-sea,ㅤ  ㅤ   her hero of misfits.

benedikta scoffs at him. ㅤ  or maybe it's an aborted attempt at a laugh, for how absurd his attempt is: ㅤ  him taking on the burden, as he takes on all burdens, as though she doesn't see the plaster of his forearm,ㅤ   the pressure offering him a permanent hunch. ㅤㅤㅤ        ‘‘   i'm sure you can,   ’’ ㅤshe mocks,  ㅤ  ㅤ    ‘‘   but i can handle it better.   ’’ ㅤ

hopping over a body,ㅤ   or two,ㅤ   benedikta presses her chest to his, hands spreading wine-red handprints against the fabric of his shirt.  looking up at him, she says,ㅤ    ‘‘   stay out of the mud, cidolfus. ㅤ  i'll be your hired villain.   ’’ 

[benydikta]

“   man ,   i miss the old times .   ”

 ･    𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙶𝙳𝙾𝙼 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝚁𝚃𝚂 358/2 𝙳𝙰𝚈𝚂 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂 :    ... closed.

"no you don't," benedikta bites back. they're out by the water's edge. they like to do that, boots kicked off, bare-feet and submerged in the sand. the water is never warm enough for benedikta to want to go in, and murky besides, but cid thrives in the sea-salt stench of it, his smile-lines pulled through his after-shadow skin.

there are a lot of beaches in waloed that they used to visit. that's probably what he's thinking, water in his ears, the thin film of pressure that dampens the sound of the waves: two young people, on craggy dark rocks, with barely enough gil between them to honor a sheeted bed. "between which points do you miss?" she asks innocently, a child's curiosity, but no, there's pain hard-wired there, etched so deep cid could put his fingers to it. he is her unhealed scar, wedged uncomfortably onto her sternum; a ragged uneven scar-tissue. they could start at the middle and it would start the same: a storm you could smell coming, all ozone, the tide pulled back, a sailor anchorless at sea. it's her warning.

it's her gruesome scarlet, all her love, spattering over her hardening, feathered spine. she's used to submerging it and he's used to pulling it up; a baited hook. he's gutted her from the inside.

"what do you think?" cid's smile shimmers, white sea-foam flicking atop the water, and there's no cid here that can be found in reality: young as when she met him, the sky meets sea reflected in his unweighted eyes, his hair snapped in intervals against the wind. he doesn't have the luxury of it listening.

benedikta purses her lips. "when it was just us. before anything. before i convinced you to join up with barnabas."

"you could've convinced me of anything." he's rested his elbows in the sand, his legs kicked out in front of him. he looks like a kid. she'd laugh if it didn't feel like quicksand, all the deepened lines in her face noticeable.

"i know." she lets her pause seep in between them, like the tide. "is that why you left?"

the cid that’s not cid just smiles at the horizon. he doesn't know the answer because she doesn’t, not yet—not until news comes across the sea about cid the outlaw years down the line, barnabas misshapen with rage and needing placating, and she ... she learns how quick it is to pick a dream over an 'almost': her almost-everything, playful with youth, and his almost-nothing, the scent of powdered sugar and charcoal withered in the empty bowels of her room.

"i hate you," she tells the mirage, her desert shimmer. the sand feels prickly to her now. it's underneath her nails, stuck in the webbing of her toes, itchy in the fabric of her clothes. it makes her more irritated than usual. "you could at least answer me."

"what would you have me say?" cid looks right through her, as though she isn't a fortress made of pain, stubbornness, 206 human bones. "that i'll come back for you?" no cid of hers would be this cruel, so that must be why he adds: "you know i won't."

benedikta must've put rocks in her pockets. that must be why she feels like she's drowning. "you could've lied."

there's something pitying in cid's expression, like he expects her to know better. it curdles, spoilt in her heart. "i've always been honest with you," he says, as though it's any consolation for the way he left.

the ocean isn't comforting anymore. this isn't their idyllic day where the sun tricks you into believing the air is warm—the waves are choppy and dark and the damp air puts goosebumps on her skin. "then," she blurts out, trying to be heard over the upset sea, "if i ever see you again, could i convince you to stay with me?"

there's a wetness to cid's eyes that startles her. she's never seen him cry. even with his nose pressed to her collarbone, his breathing uneven, beard chafing her skin—even when he leaned against the dark stone of the castle, his gaze as weighted as atlas with the world on his shoulders—even when she gripped tight to his worn-down wool shirt with both hands, leaving tear-stains behind—he was dry-eyed and sober and as tangible as pipe smoke.

"benna," he says with an easy smile, though everything between them had become difficult, a ship's shrapnel, "not this time."

benedikta wakes up with a growing familiar, all-encompassing loss, her cheeks wet, the crack inside her so sickeningly loud there's no way she'd be able to hear his voice again.

[benydikta]

[ pillow ] sender pats the pillow next to them, encouraging receiver to climb in bed beside them

 ･     𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝙾𝙵 𝙷𝙰𝙽��𝚂 & 𝚃𝙾𝚄𝙲𝙷.   :    accepting ! [ @telamn ]

𝙲𝙸𝙳 𝙾𝙿𝙴𝙽𝚂 𝚄𝙿 𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝙾𝙵 𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙰𝚁𝙼𝚂. he's got that simper on his face, the one where he's uncontrollably pleased with himself. it widens and widens, uncontained, and is unbearably content not having to do so. it's the uncountable time wherein benedikta flounders at expressing any affection and cid waits with an infuriating adoration in the slate of his eyes, as though he has waited years and could wait more. though in this case, he's probably being annoying on purpose.

"your bed is too small," benedikta complains. it's another overly-tread argument. she hates having no space. he won't get a bigger one because 'he shouldn't be treated any different than anyone else'. right. because everyone else treats him completely ordinary. at least he had the decency to add a second pillow.

scowl creasing on her face, she waves him back. "scoot further."

cid laughs. "there's only the wall behind me benna."

"and a wall in front of me," she mutters. "what?" he definitely heard her. he's achy and grey-haired but damnably not deaf.

before she decides ripping his throat out with her talons would be a better alternative, she moves forward to fold her body in front of him atop the bed, arms crossed, knees curled up into her stomach. the only space is nearly off the edge, so she lays on her side, stiff. unyielding.

"benna?" his voice is behind her, along with his heat. the humor has seeped out, misplaced by what almost sounds like fear. she can't tell, not without his face, tells hidden in the quirk of his brows, the strained pull of his lips. he sounds unsure, and it makes her nervous. they know not how to grapple with their malleable and shifting relationship, the lines benedikta had once drawn all dusted away.

she wants him to touch her. she also thinks if he placed a hand anywhere near her, she'd bite it.

in waloed, her bed could've been twice, maybe three times the size of this one. no matter how many times she found him lounging in her room, his legs stretched and his body wrinkling her sheets, her smell was still all over it: mandarins, bergamot, sandalwood, and ... beneath, a sweet pungent zing; the fresh aroma of ozone. through her perfume, they faintly smelt of each other, each a storm in their own right.

the width of that bed was their clung-to distance; a safety-measure. out of the corner of her eye, she'd brazenly stare at him, and sometimes, but not often enough, he'd look back at her and the tips of his lips would curl, the hardness of his face softened by her company. she did not know what loving was, then.

she hardly knows it now. shifting on her shoulder as she unwraps her arms, she impatiently fumbles about, looking for his hand behind her. she thinks she hears him snort, but a tentative brush of his fingers meets the tips of hers, and she is quick to pull his whole arm around her, paired over her ribs. with permission, cid attempts to intertwine their hands, their fingers slotting awkwardly as benedikta struggles with the exchange. it becomes half-formed, her fingers curling into his palm, and he huffs with laughter into the back of her head, his breath tickling her hair.

"shut up," she says, having enough awareness to be just a smidge embarrassed.

"need more practice?" all former trepidation has faded in cid's tone, which has become honey-sweet.

oh, it's become a competition now. benedikta's jaw locks. "i'll be an expert in no time."

"i'm sure you will," he agrees, maneuvering so that their hands untangle and refit as they should, finger beside finger, palm to palm. benedikta deflates. it doesn't have to be all bad: he's within her grasp, not a cloud she's been chasing. inside her, the storm rages, seeking to reconcile that which longs for him and that which resents him. "get some rest," he requests with some force behind it, nose to her nape.

benedikta squeezes her eyes shut. it hurts. she thinks she'll be hearing his breathing weigh down with the lull of sleep long before she feels its own pull, but cid uses his leverage to pull her closer, back to chest, and he is all-encompassing. deep and pungent, smoke lingering, and then -- the ozone.

she's fast asleep before she can put a word to the feeling wet inside her lungs.

[benydikta]

[ hug ] sender slides both arms around receiver and clings to them

 ･     𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝙾𝙵 𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙳𝚂 & 𝚃𝙾𝚄𝙲𝙷.   :    accepting ! [ @telamn ]

"get off me." benedikta is pouting. truly and completely pouting. she's a handful of years through her thirties and her mouth is twisted, her tone grumbling, her body taut with a reluctance mostly feigned but too prideful to loosen. she's acting like a child     ━    but anyone with the audacity to point that out would probably lose a limb, or, now that cid is a constant nagging presence, a paragon of good or some-such, they'd at least lose their hearing to her screeching.

speaking of cid, who is a bastard with no self-preservation and has a penchant for pissing her off, he's snickering into her hair, his nose tickling the crest of her ear. he's a whole added weight around the structure of her ribs, his rough fingers friction across her shoulder blades. she tries to push him off but his arms are unyielding; she's sure with a bit of effort she could dig at his aches and pains, force him to let go     ━    but there is only one way she would touch the cracking parts of him, and it isn't with malice. not anymore.

"you're being ridiculous." benedikta sighs. she pats him on the back half-heartedly, awkward to his displays of affection. "stop hugging me," she asks again, though there is less spirit behind it. her body sinks into him one limb at a time, sagging, a heavy contradiction to her dishonest mouth. "no," cid rumbles, kissing her brow, and they're so close she can feel the vibration of his tenor, pressed up against her skin. it'd be easier on her if he were a lecherous man     ━    and he was, until he wasn't, holding onto her tight like a lifeboat stranded in the ocean, sentimental touches without a hint of heat.

it is devastating to be treated gentle. he must've known this, or he would've let her go. he is on every occasion insightful, even though benedikta has shards of her she is still putting back together, and broken glass hurts. he's ever-present and warm and any observer could easily surmise he was pushing his clinginess onto her, lips swollen from kissing, hands holding fast to the divots of her bones or even her very soul.

cid is packaged with straight-forwardness as much as she is packaged with contradiction. despite the way her angled face is marred with a scowl and her body is pulling uselessly away from him, she doesn't want him to stop.

he knows. benedikta would argue he knows too much, smug with it, but if she could be allowed something near domestic, near idyllic, without breaking, then she'd tolerate his teasing enough not to kill him. enough to last until her skin became marble-white and chilled and heavy and she couldn't feel his warmth anymore.

"you're insufferable," she accuses him.

"i know," cid says, flashing her a smile. "but you like it, don't you?"

"no," she lies.

[benydikta]

@telamn      &      @benydikta:      PRIVATE RP BLOGS 𝙿𝙾𝚁𝚃𝚁𝙰𝚈𝙴𝙳 𝙱𝚈     TAYLOR      ( she / her.     28. )        JAY      ( they / he.     25. )                        ･          [ HEAVY SPOILERS FOR FFXVI INCLUDED. ]    

[benydikta]

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 - 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐒 𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

slowburn or love at first sight

fake dating or secret dating

enemies to lovers or best friends to lovers

oh no there’s only one bed or long-distance correspondence

hurt/comfort or amnesia

fantasy au or modern au

mutual pining or domestic bliss

smut or fluff

canon-compliant or fix-it

reincarnation or character death

kid fic or road trip fic

arranged marriage or accidental marriage

college romance or middle-aged romance

time travel or isolated together

neighbors or roommates

sci-fi au or magic au

angst or crack

apocalyptic or mundane

tagged by. @telamn. [ thanks buddy !! ] tagging. you because i feel like everyone's been tagged for this. if not, its yours now.

[benydikta]

[ ring ] sender admires a ring on receiver's hand

 ･     𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝙾𝙵 𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙳𝚂 & 𝚃𝙾𝚄𝙲𝙷.   :    accepting ! [ @telamn ]

" where'd you get this? " cid's doing that thing where he's trying to not act antsy. he's a buzz and he's hard to tie down unless you've got rope and a strong grip and he's not good at being quiet either. they've only been laying here for a couple minutes. might be a record.

benedikta rolls her eyes. she lifts her hand for him to take greedily, the pads of his fingers investigative on the band delicate on her pinky finger, easily missed. " saw it by a stall, up by northreach. " she turns towards him. " it felt redundant but i had to have it. "

she remembers that day well. it was about to rain, the sky cast in gray: her favorite weather. there was already mud on her boots. she was caught between a report and hard travel and hadn't planned on loitering when she knew she'd be missed. there were too many people milling about for her liking anyway, acting as if they had all the time in the world.

the young woman at the stall had been blonde. it had been muted in the wet weather. she had complained about the mist in the air, that it would affect business. benedikta didn't care to acknowledge the small talk. she was already well on her way out if the ring hadn't caught her eye.

aquamarines don't sell for much, especially when they're not the flashy ones, all bright and vibrant blues. that one instead had been nearly clear, gray and gray and gray, standing at the bank of the ocean before dawn, where the whole world seems ashen. there's the promise of color soon, inching in. it's the color of his eyes.

when she tries to buy it, the young woman tries to redirect her to the more flashy, ornate pieces. glances at all the gold detailing shining beneath benedikta's coat and tries to hook a big fish, not knowing she's pulling up a shark. benedikta doesn't have the patience for the flattery. slams a pouch of gil down and says something along the lines of take my money or die.

the girl chose to take the money.

" i kept the necklace. " her face pinches. " for what little good it did. " cid opens his mouth and she shakes her head. she has more to say. " it ended up being a reminder of all that you abandoned. " his king. waloed. her. they'd been over it before. " i wanted something that only reminded me of you. so i bought it and i kept wearing it and it made it feel like you were still here. "

there's a frown on cid's face she knows is guilt. she hates him a little less knowing he'll carry it for the rest of his life, so she smiles evilly, freakishly indulgent, and presses her free hand to his mouth, smooths out the tightness in it. " don't frown, it's going to give you more wrinkles. " his grip tightens around her wrist and she laughs in a way it surges all the way through her, warmth to her toes.

" that concern almost sounds genuine, " cid says. he's looking at the ring a little differently now.

" we can go to northreach tomorrow and see if they have any citrine, " she suggests, voice pitched light, and it pulls him away and to her and he's staring at her young and boyish and like he's trying to grapple with falling in love all over again.

" do you think it'll good on me? " he's gotten dangerously quiet.

" orange isn't your color. "

cid lets her hand go so he can pull her closer to him, his grip trapping her, palms to back. " i can make it work. "

benedikta's heart is pounding so fast she's afraid it'll run a path through her skin and find a way outside her. she huffs. says: " i'm sure you can. "

[benydikta]

portrayed by jay     ( they / he.     26. )     HEAVY SPOILERS FOR XVI.      ✻ ㅤㅤ𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒏 ㅤ𝒂𝒔 ㅤ𝒂𝒏 ㅤ𝒖𝒏𝒂𝒇𝒇𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅ㅤ 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 ;      portrayal loosely based on canon with a     HEAVY HC INFLUENCE.     # my character now.     ㅤ𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙾𝚁𝚂 𝙳𝙽𝙸.ㅤㅤㅤ『 harpy with a human heart. 』

  Ⅰ.      carrd.    ･    Ⅱ.    prompt tag.    ･    Ⅲ.    inbox count:    07.

*ㅤㅤAN EXPLORATION IN:       godhood,     𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢ㅤ 𝔞𝔰ㅤ 𝔞ㅤ 𝔴𝔢𝔞𝔭𝔬𝔫,      loss of innocence,     𝑰 𝑾𝑰𝑳𝑳 𝑵𝑶𝑻 𝑩𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑴𝑨𝑹𝑻𝒀𝑹 ;      home being someone's arms,      the price of freedom,      &ㅤ a rage that supersedes all grief.

▪ ㅤㅤ𝙻𝙰𝙼𝙱𝚂 ㅤ𝙾𝙵 ㅤ𝚃𝙷𝙴ㅤ 𝙵𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙺 :ㅤㅤ@telamn,ㅤ @otlaw,ㅤ@opyre,ㅤ @glacierites.ㅤ 』