[telmn]

#TELMN - - - - 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐋𝐀𝐖.

he came like a storm && rose like a swelling sea. arcs at his fingertips, beyond the tumultuous ash did he ride grand squall. to far horizons; into lands desperate for respite. they prayed for a hero && received an outlaw.

a canon divergent interpretation. independent & selective cidolfus telamon as portrayed by valkyrie. rules tbd main(s): @malimekys, @benediikta . . .

[telmn]

i literally only logged onto this blog to write that for dani.

[telmn]

something feels wrong. it's as if there's been a shift in the wind. it blows colder than before, and she feels it deeply, though it hardly shows upon her face. she felt it before they all turned in for the night. through the deliberations and heated banter, they all part, save for benedikta, who catches him down the hallway.

❝ cidolfus… ❞ it falls so softly from her lips, free of venom that would later poison her tongue. then, there it is; that uncertainty, that unease, that desperate feeling reaches the hazel light in her eyes. it would mark the second time he had seen her look frail, her wings already wrapping themselves around her heart… and it would be the last time he'd witness the emotion in her eyes, screaming loudly in the silence that held them.

please…

𝙪𝙣𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙙.

when     a     man     is     stripped     bare,     cut     to     the     bone     in     ideological     clash,     what     is     left     behind     is     only     his     conviction.     tidings     of     the     heart     —     threads     pulled     taut,     thousand     sulfur     conflict     amidst     sinew.     his     morals     beget     decision.     decision     begets     choices.     &&     choices     are     manifested     in     step.     the     rattling     in     his     chest     from     a     ragged     breath,     lungs     charred     by     poor     decisions     he     can’t     undo.     much     like     the     blood     on     his     hands,     marring     his     conscience.     day     after     day     at     the     will     of     a     mad     king.     for     cid     is     nothing     if     not     loyal,     but     he     is     no     mindless     hound.     the     heart     that     pounds     thunderously     in     his     chest     is     that     of     summer     nights.     the     tellings     of     chance,     the     desperation     for     something     better     for     the     people     of     waloed.     &&     yet,     he     is     not     so     naive     to     believe     those     days     within     his     reach.     moreover     that,     were     he     to     linger     in     these     stony     walls     that     run     dark     &&     cold,     it     could     be     attainable     before     his     dying     breath.     

but     there     must     be     change     for     second     chances.     

he’ll     leave.     not     because     there’s     desire     to     be     away     from     familiar     lands.     not     because     his     heart     does     not     waver     &&     weep     at     the     thought     of     leaving     her     behind.     but     rather     —     because     he     wants     to     free     those     who     mean     most     to     him.     &&     to     feel     the     wind     against     his     back     in     its     willed     plea.     sweet     utterance     to     namesake,     desperation     plucking     at     the     hairs     roused     at     neck’s     nape     ;     there’s     almost     hesitation.     almost     a     change     of     heart.     but     she’s     not     strong     enough     to     follow     him.     not     steeled     of     mind     yet     enough     to     believe     leaving     this     life     behind     could     just     as     well     save     her.     too     afraid     of     being     alone,     heart     to     be     bittered     by     his     leaving     –     he’s     sure     of     it.     &&     though     it’s     the     swell     in     his     breast     that     comes     full     the     crashing     wave     of     guilt,     it’s     that     self     -     same     conviction     that     keeps     his     eyes     ahead.     

❝     off     t’bed     with     you,     pretty     bird.     ❞     &&     here,     he     finally     allows     himself     to     look     upon     the     somber     sight     of     her.     it     shakes     his     resolve,     but     he     stands     tall.     ❝     tomorrow’s     another     day.     ❞

a     day     you’ll     have     to     find     your     own     way     forward.     because     he     wouldn’t     dare     risk     her     safety     for     chance.     

[bodybebangin]

[telmn]

smoking is bad for u :l

brow’s    tuft    lifts    –    singular    in    disposition.    an    expression    that    levels    ‘gainst    discerned    condescension    at    the    most    minimal    of    levels.    accustomed    to    her    attitude,    well-adjusted    to    the    bite    to    each    word.    or    lack,    thereof,    in    this    particular    case.    a    tease.    he    knows    it    well.    hell,    he    may    very    well    be    the    cause    of    it.    something    to    be    said    of    children    mirroring    those    around    them…    ❝    so’s    that    pinch    in    your    brow,    lass.    careful    —    likely    t'have    your    face    freeze    up    in    a    permanent    frown    like    charon    at    this    rate.    ❞

[kennycrows]

[telmn]

i'm literally only here because of aery.

[telmn]

it’s my own fault for thinking I could come back to this blog unscathed. looking at you Dani.

[telmn]

blows the dust off this blog.

[malimekys]

He hates the smell of tobacco, how it clings eagerly to aught it touches. Like death. A relentless, vulgar stench that reminds him of days where the world had seemed so much brighter. Days that, for all his years of longing, still remain relegated to MEMORY.

From its inception, Kanver had been a construct fated to fall. A city-state built to CRUMBLE beneath the weight of its own hubris and lofty proclamations of freedom. Yet another cage fashioned with gilded bars, all to distract from they who would continue to line their pockets with blood-tainted coin. A cage that, be it by conquest or destruction, would once more find itself reclaimed.

The truth of Kanver's folly — of Barnabas' own as an eager young man — had, at long last, had been both exposed and corrected.

❝All this time, and still you remain rooted in delusion.❞

A tragedy, indeed. That Cidolfus would waste his potential — the Eikon — in a reckless bid for a change that will never come; that he would see himself the hero of a foolish story; that he would fashion FICTION with which to manipulate the mind of he who had given his life purpose.

❝I remember enough.❞

And it is still too much to bear.

[telmn]

"𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄 it bein' any worse." The way the outlaw stares down the last king is nothing short of disappointment. There's a furrow in his brow so taut it could rival tension split by knives. His run off is bridged by the trickling of smoke between his lips pursed around the smoldering habit. His brow quirks in a momentary contemplation, a consideration that momentarily twists expressionism incredulously. How many have fallen by this man's hands? How much blood has soaked into the earth by one sweep of a damning blade? The storm on the horizon he sought to chase after stands before him like a suffocating swell. It yields to naught && would bite back if necessary. Howling winds && booming lightning; his bones creak with warring perpetuity && he's always had the fight in him. Cidolfus Telamon is all the more persistent.

"There's something to be said about not being surprised. But it wouldn't do much good, m'sure." Gloved digits rise to pinch away the roll from the tip of his tongue. A low, rolling sigh expels with another cloud of his idle addiction that's long since become more a comfort than aught else. Eyes derived of this land && a distant home no longer his own pan to the former dominant of darkness therein. Bitterness, bitterness.. it chokes the mundane but feeds the desperate. Something to aspire to; something to snuff out. But Cid neither desires the death of an old friend, nor does he wish to spite him. The opposite is true. For as long as one might recall, he has longed for the other to thrive && be shown a love that he has deserved. A love that could have saved him. He rises then from his feet, pacing closer to the caged beast. Staring into the intensity of a gaze that could sooner split him in two---no different than the sea. "You say you remember like you could've made good with her being gone forever. How'd that feel, I wonder? Driving a blade through your wife's heart.. who would've known it came with bein' the lap dog for---what's the word she uses?---an abomination."

[malimekys]

❝Is that what you are waiting for?❞

Even now, untold years removed from the birth of an impossible dream, this man remains ever the fool, clinging to a hope built upon the belief that mankind might one day give way to change. For so long as this dream has existed, so too has he been a fool, naïve enough to believe himself the spark needed to turn the world on its head.

HE IS ICARUS, a fool lingering much too close to the sun. It is a miracle in and of itself that he still breathes. A fluke.

And still, here he sits, content to nurse the flicker of hope with every spoken word loosed from a traitor's tongue. Whether it be for himself or for another – an equally foolish boy lured and deviated from the intended path – Cidolfus remains willfully ignorant to the fact that he is a catalyst for naught.

[telmn]

&& 𝐘𝐄𝐓 𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐋𝐘 to see the world no longer shackled by fear. To live in one's own light, by one's own terms---the solidarity between he && his fellow man to break free of the mold. Deviate from whatever damnation sees them as mere means to an end; he's content to press on, therein. && there's aught to be said of the way an electric gaze battles the desire to save the other or watch him rot. All the years he's tried, the wage of differences a heavy sum. It causes the outlaw's tongue to click. "Change would've seen a man not lay low his wife for his so-called god." He knows well that he treads on dangerous tidings. Uttering aught of the woman that he knows stands beyond this area crafted solely to keep at bay men of his mind---but not of his caliber. Cut from a different cloth, bred of desperation && anger && love lost. Could those tethers truly hold him? Could those bars contain him? A risk he runs && gambles with security. But who else might challenge the mind of a mad man? "Your little show in Kanver painted quite the picture. Burnin' the same city you helped liberate.. raising a hand to the only person with wits enough still to fight through that haze you're in. I gave up believin' in any chance you wouldn't meet a blood end. Yet here we are. And she'd sooner burn this all to the ground than cut you loose. Decades of chasing down any hope for you.. and you don't even remember her." Another drag from his greens. "Like a romantic tragedy."

[untitledmemes]

4-Word Sentence Prompts

An assortment of prompts and/or starters using only four words. Adjust as necessary to fit pronoun and/or descriptor. Reblog, please do not repost or add.

“ I don't need you. ”

“ Celebrate while you can. ”

“ It was too much. ”

“ I'm so, so sorry. ”

“ Let me love you. ”

“ Where have you been? ”

“ Why am I here? ”

“ I would love to. ”

“ I tried but failed. ”

“ You'll never forgive me. ”

“ I want to confess. ”

“ I will protect you. ”

“ You don't deserve me. ”

“ I don't deserve you. ”

“ You are safe here. ”

“ You choose your fate. ”

“ I have lost control. ”

“ I don't recognize myself. ”

“ You are to blame. ”

“ You lack the skills. ”

“ Be still, don't move. ”

“ Yet again you lie. ”

“ You are so beautiful. ”

“ Take it off. Now. ”

“ Look at you now. ”

“ Shoot before it escapes! ”

“ You can't do this! ”

“ Please don't leave me. ”

“ Please leave me along. ”

“ Worship me or die. ”

“ Bow before me, peasant. ”

“ Did you make this? ”

“ I can't believe this! ”

“ You are my villain. ”

“ You are my hero. ”

“ I don't take sides. ”

“ Run, don't look back. ”

“ My life is perfect. ”

“ Don't lie to me. ”

“ When is it over? ”

“ What is this madness? ”

“ Cut loose, have fun! ”

“ I hate you all. ”

“ I love you, dear. ”

“ You drive me crazy. ”

[damatheirin]

Cidolfus Telamon l Final Fantasy XVI

[telmn]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞.

@thcrmr asked: ❛i always got the feeling you never liked me.❜ /but he's v smug about it 😂

"𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓?" 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 && he's undeterred. Hardly compelled by the presence of a mad king && the tidings it brings. Separated by iron && hinges && locks, chains barring the way of aetheric influence; like a bound hound. Or the lax manner in which the once-outlaw perches against a crate with untouched rations sat atop it. Meals that have been forsaken, foregone in light of stubbornness && bitterness compartmentalized in the form of man. The same man that stares him down like a ravenous dog ready to bite. But it's in that same man that the former dominant of Ramuh once saw future && prosperity. "Maybe so. Once upon a time, I remember muddying my boots for you." The words are caught against the drag to greens held taut between his lips. One hand settled on crate's edge, the other gingerly supporting the bundle to his lips. A haphazard glance to Barnabas ensues not in any other suggestion than some sense of pity. An already broken man that was exploited by a being so foul, so wrought of self-preservation, that they saw this once prosperous king race toward his end. && it leaves so bitter a taste on the tip of tongue that allows for gravel in vocality to be set free yet again. "Things change, though. Don't they?"

[lunememes]

🌙  *  ―   𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄    (  a list of kidnapped and torture scenarios of varying degree. from torturing for information to torturing for the enjoyment of it. for drabbles or prompts or both! feel free to change wording as needed! do not add to the list. )

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐃 

❛  i’ll tell you anything you want to know, just please stop!  ❜ ❛  i won’t break, so do your worst.  ❜ ❛  you are sick in the head.  ❜ ❛  when i get out of here, i’m going to kill you. i promise you that.  ❜ ❛  they’ll come looking for me! they’ll notice i’m gone.  ❜ ❛  i’m not going to tell you anything.  ❜ ❛  i can’t  —  they’d kill me if i told you.  ❜ ❛  who sent you, huh? who are you working for?  ❜ ❛  i know what you want, but i’m not going to give it to you, no matter how hard you try. so do your best.  ❜ ❛  i always got the feeling you never liked me.  ❜

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐑 

❛  don’t look at them, why are you looking at them? look at me. they’re not going to help you.  ❜ ❛  you see, i had quite a reputation as the go-to guy. my job demanded it at the time. so I know where to apply the tiniest amount of pressure to a wound like yours.  ❜ ❛  no one is coming for you. i made sure of that.  ❜ ❛  how you come out of this depends entirely on you. so i strongly suggest you cooperate, for your own sake.  ❜ ❛  you look so good like this, all tied up and bloodied.  ❜ ❛  go on, scream for me.  ❜ ❛  oh, i’m not going to rush this. i’m going to take my sweet time.  ❜ ❛  i’m not going to kill you, but i’ll make you wish you were dead.  ❜ ❛  give me what i want and all this can stop.  ❜ ❛  ah-ah, don’t pass out on me now. we were just getting to the fun part.  ❜

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐍𝐄𝐑 

❛  don’t touch them.  ❜ ❛  i’m sorry, i can’t do this. i’m going to give them what they want.  ❜ ❛  nothing is worth losing you.  ❜ ❛  I’m right here, okay? we’re going to get out of this. together.  ❜ ❛  just hold on a little longer.  ❜ ❛  (name)? stay with me! don’t fall asleep!  ❜ ❛  you want me, right? so hurt me, and leave them alone!  ❜ ❛  do it, then. i don’t care what happens to them.  ❜ ❛  you’re worth protecting.  ❜ ❛  just let them go. it’s me that you want. they didn’t do anything / they don’t know anything.  ❜

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐒

[  CHAIR  ]   receiver’s muse wakes up tied to a chair and finds the sender’s muse sat in front of them, waiting for them to wake up. [  CHAINS  ]   receiver’s muse wakes up with their arms chained above their heads and sender’s muse is standing in front of them, waiting for them to wake up. [  HYDRATE  ]   after some time of torturing, sender’s muse offer’s receiver’s muse a drink of water. [  DROWN  ]   deciding to switch tactics, sender’s muse shoves receiver’s muses’ head underwater to deprive them of oxygen. [  BRAND  ]   sender’s muse burns receiver’s muse with a hot iron. [  ELECTRIC  ]   sender’s muse electrocutes receiver’s muse. [  STRUGGLE  ]   with receiver’s muse struggling against sender’s muse, sender’s muse hurts them to put them back in their place [  WAKE UP  ]   just as receiver’s muse falls asleep, sender’s muse pours cold water over them. [  CLEAN UP  ]   stuck in the same scenario, sender’s muse helps to clean to receiver’s muse’s wounds. [  BREAK OUT  ]   it’s been some time but the captive has finally broken free. receiver’s muse gets some revenge on sender’s muse.

[telmn]

𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 ; 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐈’𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 .

[telmn]

Oh yay. The personal blogs have found my blog. 🧍🏼‍♀️