#MYRISTICISMS

[h3lian]

I blame @myristicisms 🫶💕

[fearlessmonk]

.Anastasia AU starter. | @myristicisms

Midgar was that of royalty. When Sephiroth ruined the royal family, there were rumors of only one sibling survived, after the other woman who had survived had made screen time. Aerith, the last cetra was alive and well, pleading the people to find her Lockhart. Even if it were merely the body, she placed a reward on the missing after the plate had fallen. Midgar had been torn to shambles.

Leaving the orphanage; the idea was one that Tifa had dreamed of for a while. Yet, when the time came, she was hesitant. She was fortunate to score a job not too far from town, but the trek was a frustrating one. Through the Junkyard filled with fiends and down Sector 5. Once she got on the road, she searched for a sign of any kind, continually asking aloud to no one. Was she going in the right direction? Life sure liked to play silly games, throwing people for a whirl when they least expect. The only belongings she held were the clothes on her back, and a special white materia that sat on a chain around her neck.

As if asking for the sign had been answered, a cat seemed to appeared from nothing as it jumped from the bushes. It didn't speak, but as it beckoned, it guided her. A sigh left her, hesitant to follow but swallowing her gut and doing so anyway. Focused on the feline, she didn't even realize when she bumped into a tall man with black hair. Apologizing, she rushed by to continue following the feline. Groaning, her arms fell to her sides. "When I asked for a sign, I was hoping for something a little more clear." Tifa murmured aloud.

Finally, the cat drew to a stop once at the stoop of an old church. The building was tall, wooden doors protecting the entry way. The cat pawed the doors, as if requesting entry. With a sigh, Tifa obeyed the request.

It was a lovely place, even with broken floorboards and roofing. At the center in the flooring, a bed of flowers seemed to shine in the light. Tifa cautiously approached, a ping in her chest triggering from the sight of the flowers. It was something of the royal family she recognized from photos and announcements that princess Aerith would make amongst the town. Gazing longingly, lovingly at them, Tifa imagined what it would be royalty; her body carrying itself as she explored her daydream. Raggedy clothing evolved into a beautiful gown as her feet moved as if she held a dance partner. There was something to a dream, but she was quickly dragged from it as she heard footsteps approach. Chest grew tight as she tried to find cover amongst the pews.

[evcryopeneye]

@myristicisms gets a starter

Her world had fallen. 

Quite literally. 

Everything felt unreal. As if she were walking through some kind of construct of the world. Each step was heavy and yet Yuffie only knew one thing. She needed to get out of Midgar. She needed to put as much space between herself and Shinra as humanly possible. There was nothing left here. Nothing. 

Yuffie couldn’t have recalled her path through the city if you asked her, every step was taken in a haze, reeling from the events that had just occurred. How was one even meant to begin to process that? As much as it pained her, there were no glances over her shoulders as she ran through tunnels, trying to stifle back cries and screams. All she wanted to do was to look into the void and rage, and rage, and rage, except there was none left. In the space where all of her anger had been, it had been replaced by something much sharper. Grief. 

It was the first time in her life, Yuffie was listening to that voice. To run. To run as far as possible. As if the world was at her back throwing stones, a warning sign of a cosmic punishment to come should she disobey the universe this time. 

Loss did not cover this. It was something else entirely. 

Faces passed her by, occasionally one looked at her, stared, and Yuffie couldn’t work out why, the blood on her face had begun to dry and yet she couldn’t feel it. Maybe one day she would identify the fact it was just her brain trying to block out everything that had happened. Some kind of sick survival mechanism to avert a complete shutdown…that was only barely working. 

Right now, nothing existed…except his face. The revelation that she recognised someone hit her like a brick wall. Rooted to the spot the sunned teenager found herself staring, unaware of the sight that she must have been. Red rimmed eyes, blood and tear stained cheeks, dishevelled hair, dirt and scratches across her legs as she felt gravity pull at her joints. They ached, cried out for rest, for familiarity, for anything that wasn’t this. 

His face was familiar, old, she had known it for what felt like a long time but then again she hadn't even been around for that long. All she could do was stare, that lost look on her face, as she couldn’t bring herself to put herself back together, not at this moment. Instead, all she did was shake her head, swallow the lump in her throat, hold the last two strings of her sanity together. 

Not that it was working.

[grieverled-moved]

𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐋 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐀 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑, 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐔𝐋, 𝐀𝐋𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓-𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒. He's careful, treating the other man like he was made of glass, something fragile, precious. He was, Squall argues internally, voice a whisper as he keeps his gaze cast down, flitting along Zack's frame where he remains perched, both keenly hyper aware of the space between & the parts where they make contact. The fabric of his pants is both welcome & frustrating, but they haven't had a chance to truly breathe in peace for a while.

Time moved too fast, missions grew in difficulty, something sinister seemingly brewing away beneath the stretching seams of Shinra in a way that made the Turk flinch, twitch, anxiously grow in his own restless unease as he felt something rising just along the horizon. Something he couldn't quite name, something he knows, pessimistically so, he'd likely have very little power in stopping.

That frustrating feeling of futility, it clings to his bones like tar, tainting everything until he feels so weighed down by his uncertain grief, it's noticeable to those that weren't as close to him as the man below him was.

Fingers curl, splaying softly to cup at the back of Fair's neck, thumb tracing along the side of his throat where he can feel Zack's steady pulse beat away beneath his skin. Strong, living, constant, reassuring that the fool of a man was really here over bleeding out somewhere because his golden heart demanding he take the brunt of a beating. He was so well-meaning, so genuine in his offered care - it'd always stun Squall speechless, always leave him trailing after his heels with worry as he tries to help keep things from escalating.

As he goes to slip his eyes shut tiredly, simply soaking in the moment & all it's shared quiet closeness, hands keep him steady, one moving, lifting, the brush of warm & living hands shifting to cradle at the side of his face. When Zack speaks, Squall reopens his eyes, peering down at the SOLDIER with glacial calm sights, melting along their frigid edges in earned softness, the barest lean into his hand as he scoffs out a light puff of air in a slight laugh. Maybe he was worried the other could do better. Hell he should. He deserved that much, but he reminded himself how little control the other already seemed to have in his life as is, how others often pushed their views on him.

It's calm enough to silence his woes, even if they weren't what sparked his silent pensiveness, the air of mourning that seemed to drape itself along him like a funeral veil. Shedding it for the moment, his eyes garner an old sharpness back to them, burning like frostbite in their wolfish depths as they lock back on bright inhuman sights of mako tinged skies. His tongue peeks between parted lips, wetting daintily along their curved edge before his brows furrow in determination. Leaning in, using his hold on the man's neck to guide him forwards, Squall grants a kiss, languid & lingering, mouthing what he didn't have the courage to say out loud in loving gestures. All expressed in loud caresses that end in him resting his forehead against the dark-haired swordsman's.

Breathless, he takes a moment to soothe his beating heart, gaze searching Zack's own before they thin to match to crescent of his smile.

❝ You got me attached. Made it so I'm going to struggle to find someone else after you. ❞ Maybe harsh, maybe out of place. Realistic as he'd argue. Couples weren't often known to last long. In their line of work, with how different they were . . . he isn't sure if the delicate form of their bond would survive whatever came next. That looming storm on the horizon prickled at his spine, momentarily smoothed away when Zack runs a hand up the curve of his back, dipping beneath the rim of his shirt to explore the now bared skin beneath.

His free hand lifts, curling under Fair's chin, a tender stroke of a finger given as something fond quivers in his tone.

❝ Ever the hero. You somehow won me over. ❞

*𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ➤ @myristicisms [ ; ] “ I don’t want anyone else. No one else can make me feel like you do. ” ;; From Zack

[wayfaringnobody]

@myristicisms asked:

Keys jangle slightly between his fingers as he shakes his keychain, turquoise eyes glimmering as Zack stares at Roxas expectantly, grin stretching against his tawny flesh. “ C'mon, we're getting a fifty piece nugget meal from Wendy's and you're gonna help me demolish it. ”

Roxas looks away from his homework, fixing his brother a look of vague annoyance at being interrupted. However, the look quickly fades at Zack's words, shifting to one of interest instead. "Oh, alright," the blond agrees, pushing his computer chair away from his desk and moving to stand up. He stretches, arms reaching upwards, before he relaxes back with a sigh and moves to put on some shoes.

He won't bother changing out of his lounging clothes just to go through a drive-thru, so he stays in his tank top and sweatpants, slipping on a pair of slides just to have something on his feet. "Can we get one of every sauce?" Roxas initially questions, grabbing his phone from his desk before heading to trail after his brother. "Oh, and a frosty?"

[defiant-ex-soldiers]

Zack's got possibly the largest shit eating grin on his face, definitely too large for a man who doesn't realize his to-do list is trapped on his note to Cloud but alas.

((Setting this sometime after our current thread!))

Of all the people to fill out his silly little bingo form, he should have expected Zack, but it was still a shock to him.

What was even more of a shock to him was when he looked at the card and saw that it was almost entirely filled.

Cloud tried hard to hide the way his face flushed. Only one spot remained unfilled.

"I think we'd be pretty good at knocking sense into each other when the other person does stupid things. That makes a full blackout, I think."

He still thought things were tense between them after that night. He was giving Zack space, while trying to deal with the fact that a crush on him that Cloud had thought long buried had been resurfaced when the two of them went digging through his memories. To see it confirmed on paper that Zack was the one for him made him happy.

Though he may have had Zack in mind while making the card.

Curiously, Cloud peeks at the list, a smile forming on his lips. Zack was meeting up with Aerith now and he was actively going to therapy. It made him happy to know the man wasn't just stewing in his thoughts and the trauma of what he went through.

Cloud took a moment to consider going to therapy too.

He took a deep breath and regarded Zack with a smile on his face.

"Lunch sounds good. We still need to catch up anyway."

[h3lian]

` You'll learn someday, life punishes the brave They don't like it once you've left the world they knew

[phantasiiae]

29. a kiss on the inside of the wrist.

;; for Genesis and Sephiroth 👁️👁️

Spots to kiss || Accepting

As Sephiroth's alarm goes off, he lets out a breath, his eyes slowly fluttering open. It's not typical of him to sleep until now, usually wide awake a good half hour before his alarm even has a chance to. However...he was kept up quite late last night, so it shouldn't come as any surprise. Rubbing at his face, he rolls over, a feeling of relief washing over him when he sees that Genesis is still there.

He reaches over, placing a hand on his shoulder to gently wake him. After a moment, one of Genesis' hands comes up and takes hold of Sephiroth's wrist, and he allows it, unable to help but grin to himself when lips press against it. Sephiroth has had his fair share of one night stands, of people coming and going. It never really means anything, just something to help him feel more human. Genesis is...different, though. He's always been different, ever since the day they met.

"Sorry to wake you," he mutters, moving his hand to gently ruffle his hair. "But you know how it is."

[grieverled-moved]

HE'D ALWAYS MADE IT WELL KNOWN TO THE MAN HIMSELF THAT HE WAS SOMEONE WHO WAS HARD TO READ. Practically a walking surprise, the gun-blader could hardly say whatever he'd come to expect from him was ever accurate or played out how he'd thought it should've. Usually, he had a heavy handle on that particular skill of his, honing it as sharp as he'd managed to be able to get an perfect read on someone long before he'd approached so he could anticipate what action to take next.

In his line of work, being able to make such a call well in advance held the difference between life & death, & yet . . . here the frustrating bastard was yet again proving that for all his self-perceived skill in this field, for all the things he'd seen or claimed he had — he still couldn't anticipate just who Zack Fair was, what it was he'd wanted, or whether his intentions were completely pure with no malicious motives.

Every bone in his body wants to trust him, but given his past, all he'd seen . . . it's a hard task to accomplish. In his opinion, there was no such thing as a good man — but Fair came scarily close. But it'd never upset the other. No, instead, the optimistic, forever sunny First would always reassure him that whatever answer Squall's given when he did ask him anything, it was fine in the end. While many SOLDIER's were hardheaded, stubborn, bearing their own sort of inflated pride at even making it within these ranks, Zack carried himself differently in a way that couldn't help but lure his attention.

He was genuine. Honest in his empathy, while ensuring his attitude was one that never harmed, always did his best to uplift those in his presence & under his care.

That sort of gentle tenderness was rarely seen by the Turk, enough that once he’s face to face with it for as long as he had been, getting to know the other man bit by bit, it stuns him frozen solid when the other reaches over to brush a bit of his dangling bangs from his eyes, slow as gloved fingers tuck the odd strands behind an ear more securely — he isn’t sure just how to react, what he’s supposed to do. He moves like he’s going to startle him, & maybe it’s wise he is, because Squall’s heartbeat is pacing so loud it’s hard to think logically, breath curiously catching in his throat as he glances up to watch the strange man with wide, questioning eyes.

His pen ceases its glide along the pages it scrawls atop, grip tightening in some budding anticipation, some fear, wielding it like a weapon if only for comforts sake. When Fair moves his hand to hover, a canopy ready to cradle the curved edge of his jaw in the open side of his palm, Squall exhales through his nose with a slow swallow.

❝ . . . Can I? ❞

The bastard doesn’t even need to ask.

*Send “...Can I?” for my muses reaction to yours asking to kiss them. ➤ @myristicisms [ ; ] “ Can I…? ”

[defiant-ex-soldiers]

“ after what happened before, i can't let you out of my sight. ”

;; from Zack!

"I don't need your protection, I can handle myself. I've become stronger since that time, and I don't need you looking out for me anymore."

[feuerwizard]

starter for @myristicisms | playing lanceboard

The Shadow Cursed lands are a peculiar and foreboding place, unlike anything Caleb had ever seen before. Dingy air thick with a palpable sense of danger, the shadows seemingly alive and ready to swallow them whole. Each step towards Last Light Inn felt uncertain as if the very ground beneath their feet could turn against them at any moment. Despite the constant threat looming over them, Caleb could not help but be fascinated by the strange landscape around him. Every corner with secrets and mysteries that begged to be uncovered. But survival took the forefront of his mind, just as it always had. He could not study anything is was dead.

Luckily Last Light Inn is a temporary haven (after they fought off Marcus) and even the dirt-covered human wizard has to admit shelter is a relief. He remains reserved, opting for a quick round of ale from the bar downstairs instead of mingling with his eccentric companions. However, one thing manages to grab his attention—Miriam sitting alone at the lanceboard table. Caleb cannot help but feel drawn to the empty seat beside her, taunting him to join in on the game. Despite his usual solitary nature, he finds it nearly impossible to resist a game of strategy.

“Hallo,” he greets the woman as he walks towards her, his accented voice slightly muffled by the half-finished mug of ale in his hand. “I don’t suppose you are looking for another player?”

[h3lian]

༝ Commission for @myristicisms 𓋼𖤣𖥧 ₍ ₁ ₎ ₍ ₂ ₎

[phantasiiae]

‘ i am not a good person. don’t pretend i am. ’

;; Genesis to Sephiroth teehee

Growling suggestions || Accepting

It's a curious statement, one that has Sephiroth looking over at Genesis with raised brows. "...Well, Genesis, I would ask if any of us are, but how you even begin to define good?" Because, for them, it feels like the lines are muddled. Sephiroth has spent so much of his life trying to something like good, despite being raised to be a weapon and a ruthless killer. But could anyone even define what truly makes someone good or bad or something in between? He doesn't know. He doesn't think he wants to know.

So he sighs, seeming to hesitate for a moment before he reaches over and places a hand on top of Genesis'. "I don't think anyone would call us good people. If you're stringent about the definition, then we certainly aren't...but it's part of who we are, regardless. What's brought this on?"

He knows Genesis has a tendency to brood over things more than he should. Sometimes it does worry him. "If you need an ear...then here I am."

[grieverled-moved]

🌺!!!!!!!

Hewwo I adore you dearly. You’re literally someone I’ve written with for so long as is & I realllly hope we can write together for a long time still. Every muse you’ve picked up is so well written & clearly loved, your passion for them is unmatched & just as infectious. What little I do know of 7, admittedly all comes from you & Mako, & congrats cause y’all made me love & adore Zack & Cloud when I otherwise wouldn’t have cared for them unless I heard you gush about HCS for him & spitball ideas. You’re a writing partner I’m so glad I met, but also an amazing friend & no matter the muse that has the braincell, I’m always happy to see you writing or just thriving ic or ooc.

*Send “🌺” If you love having me as an RP partner