#ff16 odin

[yoseiatoreblogs]

Had to see Odins chosen as a female and was not disappointed!

[wander-bb]

Final Fantasy XVI

The Last King

[owarinaki]

Final Fantasy XVI - Odin and the Sea

[dunderella]

the waloeders

(available as stickers in my shop!)

[olgipolgi]

▪️ Odin ▪️

[bloodrelationsofheavenandearth]

hold me (i wish that we were laying in the same sheets)

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ | desc; to love is to hope, to hope is to hold, to hold is to be secure- until it isn’t.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ | pairings; barnabas tharmr -> x gn!reader

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ | mlist

sweet air on a spring morning. sweet like dew on blades of grass and honeysuckle blossoms birthing into bloom. not like powdered sugar, not like perfume or incense, not like slathered honey dripping onto your tongue.

sweet air on a spring morning and cold cotton sheets that swathe generously over naked skin, an arm stretched out over an expanse to trace an empty hand and reaching fingers to a place no longer occupied. of course, why would it not be unoccupied? no one lays there to leave an indentation in the sheets, there is no reason to anymore. pointless.

the reaching fingers drag the empty space, adoring in their caress, arcing back to the body of their owner to curl against a chest. the fingers tap against the chest of the body, pressing against skin, hard enough to meet the resistance of muscle and bone, to feel the staccato rhythm underneath.

a sigh. cotton sheets ruffled. body awakened.

feet press to the cold ground without much protest, scuffing quietly against the floor. the careful machinations of the hopelessly ardent hands lift the body encasing the soul that remembers all, feet sliding over wood until a sudden stop is made at the mirror on the far side of the room.

tired eyes are reflected back through the mirror, lips curled into a frown and face appearing puffy. hands, ones that are practiced in their art, poke and prod at the face until the articulated smile sticks.

a knock on the door. a sharp tap followed by a pause, then three more sharp taps. familiarity breeds contempt for the memory of this. the head that appears when the door twists open is out of focus from the mirror; good.

“are you ready?” speaks the voice from the body in the doorway, achingly familiar.

you cast me aside, says the soul in a hateful whisper. i am cast, far out to sea, sinking within the froth of the waves you have created. the soul consumes itself in its grief, in turmoil as the face slides more into focus.

“give me a few moments, won’t you?” answers the voice from the body, swallowing the cries of the soul, letting itself be consumed. “close the door.”

the face becomes clearer in the mirror, just barely, darkness of the room creating pleasant shadows. hand pushed against the smoothness of the door, the person by it is clear now, frowning, seemingly something to say on the tip of the tongue. say it already. eyes clash in the mirror and then shatter apart. the visitor is silent.

“could you not find a better time than this?” asks the voice, level in volume but not its intent. stagnation permeates the air, carried across the space, cutting through the particles between them and being consumed into ears that are reluctant to listen.

footsteps approach. a hand brushes against a shoulder of another. silence.

the articulated smile flares and muscles tense, stretched thin like rubber bands, preparing to snap back to their fixed state; away from the visitor. the visitor speaks again in reply, “now is best.”

another sigh, the soul gasps for breath in the crushing waves stirred by the open wound the heart bares; only because it suits you. the body contracts, moving away from the visitor once more, one final time.

“Your cause has cost us everything, I am lost to you. I stay, because you’ve buried me in responsibility here I can’t shake.”

sour air on an autumn evening. twilight reflecting on fallen carpets of leaves left to rot and nurture new life, the contemptuous finality of changes made. like footsteps leaving an occupied room with the soul of the body left behind. like the merciful end of familiarity caused contempt hidden within the changing of seasons.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ | notes; okay so,, i wrote this originally to b able to b read with multiple ppl, original plan was to write something able to be read for clive, barnabas, dion, benedikta & cid,, haha whoopsies it ended up being barnabas solo :’) this is really about nothing, but references past conflict- honestly that’s all i had in mind, i apologise incredibly if it doesn’t make much sense<3 on a final note!! i start a diploma soon (yay!) so activity will be diminished (i plan to finish asks before then, iv jus been swamped irl i am v sorry to reqs sent in & so far unanswered)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ hiebies 2023 ©

[skullssy]

Odin your tiddies why are they so big

[owarinaki]

Final Fantasy XVI - Barnanas as ODIN