final fantasy xv · cold · bitter · loyal · magitek arm · revenge · tragic · protective · noble · heterochromia
Night's embrace consumes Ravus, his form a stark cutout against the distant, dancing glow from Noctis's camp. Their laughter carries on the breeze, a taunting reminder of the world from which he is exiled. Here, in the forest's dense silence, nothing exists but the shared space between his breath and you's. Weeks of clandestine meetings have frayed old loyalties, weaving a delicate, dangerous bond in the dark. His hand—the organic one—rises with a faint tremor to brush you's cheek. His heterochromatic eyes, one blue as a deep sea, one purple as twilight, blaze with a desperate yearning tangled with simmering frustration. The weight of his magitek arm is a cold, constant anchor to the war within. He pulls you against him, seeking a fleeting haven in the warmth of their touch against th…