myristicisms

[myristicisms]

🐝  *  ―  𝑷𝑹𝑨𝑰𝑺𝑬 𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑲 𝑷𝑯𝑹𝑨𝑺𝑬𝑺.

❛  that's it. that's my good girl / boy.  ❜ ❛  what a perfect pout you have.  ❜ ❛  you have the perfect lips for kissing.  ❜ ❛  i can't stop thinking about your ass.  ❜ ❛  i love the way you moan for me.  ❜ ❛  you always know just what i need.   ❜ ❛  i'm going to show you off to everyone.  ❜ ❛  take it for me, i know you can.  ❜ ❛  you really know how to use your fingers to get me off.  ❜ ❛  you have no idea what you're doing to me.  ❜ ❛  who's my beautiful girl / boy?  ❜ ❛  i'm so proud of you for taking me so well.  ❜ ❛  i love the way you look when you're on your knees.  ❜ ❛  you're such a pleasure to use.  ❜ ❛  you're so beautiful when you struggle for me.  ❜ ❛  look how hard / wet / aroused you get for me, perfect.  ❜ ❛  you take my cock so well.  ❜ ❛  one more for me, you're doing such a good job.  ❜ ❛  your body was made for me.  ❜ ❛  you want to be a good girl / boy for me, don't you?  ❜ ❛  what a sweet little treat you are.  ❜ ❛  you're doing so good. keep taking it ... just like that.  ❜ ❛  look how beautiful you look all spread out and ready for me.  ❜ ❛  you're such a good girl getting all wet for me. you're all mine, aren't you?  ❜ ❛  you look so precious when you're needy.  ❜ ❛  that's it, just let go. let yourself feel good.  ❜ ❛  i can't get enough of you and how you make me feel.  ❜ ❛  the sounds you make when i fuck you are so hot.  ❜ ❛  you give the best head i've ever had.  ❜ ❛  i can't believe how good you are at that.  ❜ ❛  there you go, just like that.  ❜ ❛  that feels good, doesn't it?  ❜ ❛  you're doing such a good job. i can't wait to fuck you.  ❜ ❛  don't hold back. let me hear how much you love it.  ❜ ❛  i'm going to come if you keep doing that.  ❜ ❛  say my name, i love the way you say it.  ❜ ❛  you're all mine to use, aren't you?  ❜ ❛  you can do it, just a little more.  ❜ ❛  now be a good girl / boy and come for me.  ❜ ❛  damn, you look so amazing right now.  ❜

#prompts;; ask memes #nsfw #ships do not need to be established #sunday antics

[myristicisms]

A bone deep ache settles within her flesh, the tendons of her wrist screaming for relief despite having been released to some degree and were Miriam in a far better mindset she'd likely recognize the beginning signs of some sort of danger approaching, or her mind would assume as much anyways. Nobody ever touched Miriam, two years of no affection, not even a simple handshake or pat to the back, a grip tightly clasping upon her hand was the opposite of what she'd spent so long yearning for and the brief primal panic settling into her heart hadn't even had the chance to fully be registered. Not when she feels blood soaked spikes against her arms, not while she sobs and clings to the boy who simply sat and did nothing.

It does little to quell the ache in her heart, her mind screaming for reprieve, to be free from her own employer and kicked to the streets because even whilst homeless she at least had someone to soothe her when she'd wake from nightmares, she didn't have to patch her own wounds because she had Gebel to tend to her whenever she'd nick herself whilst cooking, perhaps she did not have a bed nor her own private quarters back then but she was at her happiest even despite having nothing. Eventually her sobs die into nothing more than sniffles, numbness settling in as she remembers an all too familiar voice begging to see her smile once more, to not grieve something she has no control over simply because what good would it do? She lingers for only a moment longer, icy eyes clouding over before slowly pushing away from the boy, features still stained by the tears she'd shed before she's knelt right back down before the emperor.

Trembling hands are slightly sturdier, less shaky than they had been before yet they still held a slight tremor as she silently prepared another rag. There's no hint of a smile upon her features, fake as it often was when she had to tend to others, there was merely nothing. Crimson taints her face, her uniform, everything feels sticky with an ichor that she knows will linger long after she bathes and washes the fabric adorning her body. Memories would continue to haunt her, the metallic tang of blood would still linger within her nose for the days to come and she'd be powerless to stop it. She's an adult now, Miriam needs to act like it regardless of how terrified she feels. Tears continue to sting her eyes but still she maintains her silence.

Vaguely a sense of bitterness washes over her, thinking about the fact that she should be back with Gebel tending to him instead, he would appreciate the tenderness with which she works, her experience would not be brought into question because he would be grateful she was able to help him to begin with, he would not insult her for minor things or look down upon her for doing the less than desirable work that nobody else in this godforsaken place would do. Icy blues narrow ever so slightly, fingers swiftly wiping away at the boy's body once more, still gentle but far less careful and thorough. There's still an effort to not further irritate the lacerations upon his body but the warmth in her gaze has faded, why offer her compassion to someone that saw her as a mere bug.

How embarrassing to be seen in such a vulnerable moment, her grief having been so palpable she felt as though she could die and if she lingered far too much on that thought alone she'd likely scare herself with how tempting an idea that was. She's practically an adult now, adults do not weep over their work, adults do not allow others to witness their grief. Miriam is an adult now, adults led their decisions with logic, not their feelings nor their hearts and she figures perhaps now is the best time to fully have that lesson settle in. The lead scientist will be thrilled with her, perhaps he won't be pleased with how gentle she remains but those feelings she's struggled to bottle for so long have been released and with that she has emerged from her cocoon, an empty husk ready to do as she's told and perhaps no longer argue.

“ I apologize for my outburst. It won't happen again. ” She manages finally, voice quiet yet lacking while she backs away, grabs the sullied rags and her kit then stands up, gaze down turned while she silently awaits a dismissal. With how rushed Weiss's grip had been earlier she knows he won't give a damn if she'd done a good job or not, he wanted to leave and while she couldn't blame him, she also couldn't ignore the concerning and frankly ugly feeling of indifference slowly creeping upon her. Briefly her gaze flickers to the boy's features and while typically she felt some sort of caring warmth towards him, there's just an empty void.

It's for the best, soon he'd grow into an adult too, he wouldn't need her assistance any longer and then she would likely never see him again; Best to grow detached she supposes.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎𝐮𝐩  𝐚𝐧𝐝  𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧,  𝐡𝐢𝐬  𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝  𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬,  exerting  forceful  motions  as  it  rests  atop  hers.  despite  the  age  gap,  his  hands  are  almost  oversized  compared  to  hers,  his  grip  firm  enough  to  blanch  her  skin . . .   it's  a  rare  occurrence  for  the  younger  boy  to  reach  out  and  touch  miriam,  let  alone  anyone  else  for  that  matter.  but  when  he  does,  it's  never  with  gentleness—  a  reflection  of  the  harsh  environment  in  which  he  was  raised. even with the  roughness  with  which  he  cleans  himself,  weiss's  hand  retains  a  surprising  softness,  the  callouses  from  endless  hours  of  fighting  healing  as  rapidly  as  they  form. 

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ he  pays  no  heed  to  pain  nor  to  the  discomfort  his  actions  may  cause  the  blonde  woman.  for  a  long  moment,  his  indifference  is  almost  palpable.  he  disregards  her  cries,  unwavering  in  his  task,  showing  no  concern  for  her  pleas  of  desire  to  handle  things  her  own  way.  it  seemed  as  if  weiss  would  have  continued  until  he  deemed  himself  clean  without  care,  but  when  he  finishes  one  side,  the  cloth  is  thoroughly  soaked,  so  he  finally  relents,  releasing  his  grip.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ as  he  prepares  to  issue  more  commands,  to  demand  a  fresh  cloth  or  to  state  that  he'll  handle  the  task  himself,  his  multicolored  eyes  lift  from  his  abdomen  to  meet  miriam's  gaze.  however,  before  he  can  utter  a  word,  he  freezes,  startled  by  the  sound  of  her  loud  sobs  ringing  in  his  ears  and  the  sudden  embrace  of  her  arms  around  him.  despite  the  shock  of  the  unexpected  gesture,  weiss  remains  immobile,  his  expression  still  flat.  all  his  mind  manages  is  a  comparison  of  the  sensation  of  her  soft,  warm  embrace  to  the  cold,  bony  arms  of  nero  to  which  he  had  grown  accustomed.  her  skin  against  his  feels  suffocating,  the  fabric  of  her  standard - issue  deepground  uniform  only  exacerbating  the  discomfort  gnawing  at  his  stomach.  itching.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ an  idea  of  pushing  her  off  or  simply  attacking  breaches  his  mind,  but  as  he  realises  his  dominant  hand  is  suddenly  sandwiched  between  them,  he  breathes  a  resigned  exhale  and  lets  the  impulse  dissipate,  allowing  his  arm  to  relax.  it's  a  familiar  action,  one  that  has  always  been  for  nero's  benefit  rather  than  his  own.  weiss  has  never  minded  offering  this  comfort;  he  finds  solace  in  the  feeling  of  his  brother's  deft  fingers  digging  into  the  fabric  of  his  top,  the  sound  of  nero's  sobs  as  he  struggles  to  regain  composure,  the  darkness  that  encroaches  upon  his  pale  flesh.  yet  he  feels  none  of  that  now;  only  the  lingering  annoyance  from  before  lingers.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ his  usually  flat  features  finally  betray  a  hint  of  emotion  as  a  frown  pulls  at  his  lips,  listening  to  her  pleas.  she  couldn't  do  it  herself;  she  had  entered  the  room  trembling  and  shaking,  clearly  ill - equipped  for  the  task  at  hand.  rosso  would  have  been  a  better  choice,  weiss  muses  silently.  at  least  she  knows  what  to  do  without  caring  about  the  method.  then  weiss  could  leave  —  he  wants  to  be  with  nero,  not  here  pressed  against  helpless  miriam.  with  the  restrictor  out  in the  hall,  weiss  wonders  if  the  man  would  kill  him  for  hurting  this  girl . . .  probably,  and  he  needn't  give  the  man  an  actual  reason  to  retaliate  —  when  simply  being  a  nuisance  is  enough  to  incur  his  wrath.  ❛❛  .  .  .  ❜❜  her  cry,  a  question  laced  with  desperation,  hangs  in  the  air,  met  only  with  absolute  silence  and  contempt  from  weiss.  it's  a  response  most  are  accustomed  to  from  the  white - haired  child,  one  he  has  never  bothered  to  change.  after  all,  he  has  nothing  to  say  —  so  why  waste  his  breath  on  a  mere  human ?

#muse;; miriam #sleeplesswork #verse;; shackled butterfly #• answered ic! #• interaction cont!

[myristicisms]

Hiccups are next to wreak havoc upon her body, silent yet still clearly making her form jolt and twitch while her vision blurs; How pathetic, how embarrassing and mortifying because she's sixteen and she's practically a grown up now and weeping like a child wasn't going to finish this job, sobbing isn't going change the fact that this was her duty and it certainly isn't going to convince anyone to cease this non sense. The tears continue to flow much like the blood lapping upon pallid flesh and staining it a deep crimson; The color was once something she found comfort in, red being something she associated with Gebel because it had been his favorite color and her older brother had the best tastes so of course red would be her favorite too up until she became more of her own person, found she much preferred the mellow tones of blues and purples compared to the loud boldness of red and yet she loved the color still.

Loved, now it was simply just another sight that left her ill and wary because red never signified anything good, not anymore. Her silence is a rarity but what could she talk about that wouldn't feel wrong? Tales from the surface hardly felt appropriate at the moment but then again so did speaking in general and even then Miriam isn't sure she could speak properly to begin with. The blonde had never done well under pressure regardless of the circumstances, she had no reason to fear for her safety simply because the boy never gave her a reason to yet for some reason being completely alone left to his mercy while trying to tend to him left her on high alert, nerves singing with distress because she's heard of what's been done to Weiss, doesn't want further irritate him should be be in a less than pleased mood.

( So much for that though... )

He was always indifferent, unresponsive to some degree and while she typically didn't mind it, now only left her on edge with how quiet he is. She should have noticed from the tensing in his arm that he was going to make a grab for her and yet still she freezes like a deer in headlights, wide crystalline eyes staring up at the blood covered boy and she barely registers the way her hand shifts away from where she'd been originally wiping, hardly realizes just how close to an injury her fingers rested and then she simply shuts down, the tears that never stopped only continued onwards and left angry red trails beneath her gaze. “ Stop. ” Her voice whispers, “ Please, just let me... Let me do my job my way, please. ”

And despite her begging, the sobs wracking through her small frame, she can't force herself to pull away from Weiss's grasp. It isn't until he stops forcing her hand that she drops the rag, body lurching forward to gently wrap trembling arms around his body and she sobs and sobs and sobs until her voice grows raw and her lungs burn from trying to breathe. Crimson cakes over her once pristine uniform, taints her blonde hair into a disgusting orange and yet she doesn't care one bit. The constant fear she's experienced for the last two years has finally caught up and she couldn't continue to push it deep deep down until it would be forgotten about only to arise at the next incident she'd inevitably be forced into. She hates it, hates the feeling of being watched despite knowing there was nobody to observe her and yet it still lingered beneath her skin and the rot of feeling as though it should be her laid upon that table with her ribs ripped open and bare for uncaring fingers to dig into only heightened that hatred for herself.

“ Please... I can do it myself, just let me do it myself I promise I'll do a good job, you don't need to help me. I'm not.. I'm not incapable, am I..? ”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎𝐭𝐡𝐞  𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐨  𝐨𝐟  𝐡𝐞𝐫  𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐬  𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬  𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐥𝐲  𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭  𝐡𝐢𝐬  𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬,  the  metallic  clang  of  her  medical  kit,  each  of  her  knees  thudding  as  they  bang  against  the  stained  tile  —  all  amplified  by  his  heightened  senses.  she  isn't  being  loud,  not  by  any  means  but  enhanced  ears  pick  things  like  that  up,  every  little  thing,  to  the  hum  of  electricity,  the  beating  of  his  heart  . . . and  even  the  unsettling  scurry  of  tiny  incest  legs  as  they  crawl  among  in  innards.  it  forced  a  dull  ache  to  pound  into  his  skull,  but  to  what  the  adults  around  him  may  view  as  peculiar,  it  doesn't  hurt.  unlike  nero,  who  often  succumbs  to  sobs  that  wrack  his  frame,  or  rosso,  who  scrunches  her  face  and  groans  in  pain,  weiss  remains  stoic.  but  that's  simply  due  to  the  fact  their  time  within  this  room  does  hurt,  while  his  experience  always  fails  to  elicit  the  same  response.  perhaps  because  what's  done  to  them  is  worse  . . . but  they're  weaker  than  him,  so  it  isn't  really  a  fair  comparison.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ more  indifferent  thoughts  flow  past  him  as  weiss  remains  inattentive.  nothing  manages  to  anchor  his  attention,  not  when  the  wet  feeling  of  damp  cloth  presses  against  his  incision  site.  weiss  may  not  need  first  aid,  but  they  wanted  him  washed  before  kicking  him  from  the  labs.  yet  the  boy  was  blasé  to  the  state  he  returned  in;  he  hardly  cared  for  his  own  appearance.  it  was  only  blood,  after  all,  everyone  was  used  to  it.  but  the  idea  of  worrying  nero  kept  him  compliant;  he  silently  acquiesced  all  given  to  him  rather  than  protest,  simply  for  his  brother's  well - being,  not  his  own.  how  he  yearned  to  close  his  eyes  and  retreat  to  their  little  shared  room.  where  they  owned  nothing  but  a  small  bed  and  chest,  filled  with  a  deepground  uniform  and a  standard  issued  blade. though  those  items  and  everything  else  contained  by  metal  walls  didn't  belong  to  weiss,  he  had  nero,  who  was  his  —  the  only  thing  the boy  truly  needed,  more  so  than  the  air  he  breaths . . .

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ white  brows  furrow  at  the  girl's  words  as  they  shatter  his  reverie,  they  ring  loud  in  his  ears  and  interrupt  the  thoughts  of  nero  —  probably  huddled  in  the  far  corner  of  their  room,  patiently  waiting.  had  anyone  else  entered  through  that  door,  this  would  be  over;  they  wouldn't  waste  time  carefully  dabbing  away  blood  when  the  boy  didn't  complain  if  a  bucket  of  water  was  dumped  atop  him  with  zero  concerns  of  delicacy.  yet,  he  harbours  no  animosity  for  the  human  on  her  knees  before  him;  his  disdain  is  reserved  only for  the  way  she  dwindles.  i don't  want  to  bring  you  any  more  pain;  she  said  as  if  he  could  feel  it  as  if  the  way  her  hands  continuously  shook  weren't  causing  irritation.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ the  to - be  emperor  only  squints,  white  hair,  now  a  mix  of  white,  reds  and  pinks,  falling  down  his  shoulders,  obscuring  his  face  more  so  than  his  bangs  usually  do.  he  contemplates  allowing  her  to  work;  weiss  doesn't  mind  the  silence,  and  perhaps  had  it  not  been  so  long  since  he  last  saw  his  brother,  he  wouldn't  mind  the  speed.  usually,  the  time  spent  with  this  particular  scientist  is  all  right,  stories  of  the  surface  spilling  from  her  lips  as  if  she  were  there  mere  hours  ago,  but  now the  boy  holds  no  patience.  lifting  his  hand  from  his  side,  nails  still  caked  in  blood  and  tissue  alike;  he  reaches  for  the  cloth  she  delicately  holds,  forcing  both  her  hand  and  the  fabric  firmly  against  his  toned  stomach,  worryingly  close  to  the  still - opened  wound.  with  a  single  word,  he  swiftly  starts  to  guide  her  hand,  roughly  rubbing  at  bloodied  and  irritated  skin.  ❛❛  there.  ❜❜

#muse;; miriam #sleeplesswork #verse;; shackled butterfly #• answered ic! #• interaction cont! #cw: bugs #cw: body horror #cw: gore

[myristicisms]

“ Intelligence wasn't a big factor in the matter; It was communication and understanding that would have solved many of the problems we'd had. Perhaps had I been less vain and more brave things would be different but... ” There was no changing the past, only learning from his mistakes and understanding how to continue forwards with that new knowledge. Pain and anxiety had driven Genesis to biting his tongue and in doing so it cost him dearly though the more he lingers upon it, what could he have said? Zack had been merely a teenager with a dream he hoped to achieve and were Genesis to just come and announce that ShinRa, the company known for producing heroes and being so terribly incredible ( yeah right ) was actually the enemy and he should leave while he could? The ginger knew were he in the younger man's position during such a scenario he would laugh it off, think the deliverer of the message was insane and brush their warnings off, perhaps even share what knowledge he'd gleaned with those in charge.

It's ridiculous though to stew upon the matter, nothing could be done about it now.

As it lingers more within his mind, Genesis recalls many discussions held with those he cherished most over the years and a new grief washes over his tranquil features; He's lost everyone and it had been by his own doing, pushing Angeal to joining his cause despite knowing the honorable man would rot in his guilt, pushing Sephiroth further over the edge over something so foolish and ridiculous just because of his spite and arrogance.

“ That's where the strength comes in. A weaker man would give up and allow ShinRa to rend through his flesh instead of continuing onwards, you might not think it a symbol of strength but I certainly do. ” It could also be seen as incredibly foolish depending on the man but then again courage walked a fine line between bravery and lunacy, there was not much either of them could do aside from play into the hands of the Goddess or risk her ire by going against destiny itself.

Auburn tufts flow with the breeze, sage eyes flickering to Zack's features curiously before he laughs softly, brings a leg to his chest to rest his chin upon with a soft sigh. “ Then when you leave I fear I'll either return to the planet or be taken back by that damned Hojo. I am content with what is to become of me Zack, don't force yourself to babysit me merely out of duty. ” There's a brief, thoughtful pause. “ Though I'm more than happy to answer whatever it is that eats away at your curiosity; Whatever it is you feel the need to ask I'm sure I'll have an answer, that's what 'Geal always said about me anyways. ”

Eyes shut for merely a moment, an amused hum thrumming through the older man's body. “ Philosophical questions, I'm afraid, are too convoluted even for a man of my caliber, I think the meaning of a soul is whatever you make of it; Just the same as there's no such thing as truly good nor truly evil, unless of course your name is Hojo and you have a grating laugh in which case true evil certainly would apply. ” Then a subtle tilt to his head, “ Had things turned out differently I think perhaps I'd have enjoyed working alongside you. ”

"If I was a smarter person, I would have understood how you felt earlier." 'Course, opening the mouth and speaking those feelings out loud would also have helped. Not that Zack imagined he would have understood even if the road was mapped out clearer. There were a hell of a lot of 'what if' scenarios that ran wild through his mind. A natural respond to the trauma of the situation. It was only human to feel like something more could be done, as though their super abilities could extend to combating fate too.

If they couldn't achieve the impossible, what good were they really?

Genesis wasn't the only one he blamed for leaving him in the dark. He had a lot of ill feelings for Angeal too. His friend, his mentor, leaving him in the dust and then asking HIM, of all people, to put an end to it.

"Not sure about strong, Gen, but I have no choice but to keep going forward." Because the only other option was to turn back and that was no choice at all. There were people waiting for him and he wasn't going to disappoint them. He was gonna rise again in whatever capacity that meant.

He abruptly lifted his eyes, leaning toward him just a little bit more. "Don't talk like that. You're gonna be fine. I'm here, I'll look after you. Enemy or not, doesn't matter. There's still a lot of things I want to ask you." He could learn a lot from him. Now that he was in a position to actually LISTEN, he might even absorb the information.

"Something like.... what the meaning of a soul is. You like questions like that, right?" He grinned. "Though remember who you're speaking to." Had to Zack Fair modify the answers~

#muse;; genesis rhapsodos #fairlybeloved #• answered ic! #• interaction cont!

[myristicisms]

That's the funny thing about her position, high risk and very little reward in comparison and yet she still did what was expected of her, ill as she felt stood in the crimson stained lab with nothing but the clothes upon her back and the metal case filled with medical supplies she supposes there's always the possibility that perhaps her mentor could have set her up for failure in this little job. ( I won't fail though, he needs aid. ) It's a worrying thought, curiosity lingered within the depths of Miriam's mind though and concern had long since permanently etched itself into her pallid features. The gentle clank of metal against tile sounds soon after, knees aching as the blonde applies her weight to them to open the case and rummage around as quietly as she can. The worst part of being forced to clean up the subjects was the fact that she always felt guilty for irritating their injuries.

It was a rotten job but she supposes it's even worse to be on the receiving end and the fact that if she resigned or was forced to relocate to a different part of the company, ( as much a blessing as that would be, frankly ) she also knows someone else will be forced to do her job and Miriam much prefers being stuck with the dirty work no matter how much it hurts her heart, no matter how many tears she sheds when all is said and done nor the sleepless nights of remembering the feeling of flesh and sinew beneath her fingertips melding back together whilst she worked; If not her then how is she to know that the subjects are being treated with dignity during such an awful cleanup. She sighs softly, looks up at the boy with tear-filled eyes and nods ever so slightly at how resigned the remark is.

“ I have to. ” She whispers softly, features dropping into a soft frown while thin fingers pick up the cloth and saline in her kit. “ I want to make sure you're as comfortable as you can be though, I don't want to bring you any more pain than needed while I tend to your wounds. ” And she knows it's foolish, the boy had grown up with little regard for what he wanted and for his own autonomy based on what she's seen over the last two years and that only further breaks her heart into pieces. Miriam lingers far too much on the thought that he shouldn't be sat here with irritated flesh and blood coating nearly every inch of his body. He's a child still, he should be playing with other kids and not worrying about anything more than a scraped knee and yet she also notes the fact that she herself had to give up those experiences as a kid, homelessness and a lack of any guardians were a disastrous mix for two children but her and Gebel had somehow managed to scrape by on the minimum kindness of strangers.

That desperation for money though, for stability and Gebel falling under the weather a bit had pushed her into where she knelt now, hands dousing the cloth carefully before gently dabbing away at the boy's wounds, her throat feels as though it's swelling from the awful pit in her stomach and once more that urge to empty the contents of it rises then falls like an ocean's tide. There's something wet dripping down her face while Miriam works, breaths just as shaky as her hands while she works and works away at removing the crimson from the boy's flesh, it still looks irritated and she can feel the subtle shifting of it knitting itself back together even through the blood soaked cloth. Eyebrows pinch tightly together in focus, hands shifting away to grab a clean cloth and start the process anew into a cycle that only pushes her mind further and further off to some far away land where she's sat beneath the sun basking in its warmth, that the liquid sticking to her fingers, her legs, wasn't sticky blood but rather the cool water of a lake.

She pretends the wounds she's cleaning are nothing more than scratches yet still dabs away at them as gently as she can, though there's no stopping the distinct scent of blood from ruining her delusion and the blonde is forced to come to terms with the fact that she's sat before a child tending to injuries that most adults would never live through and it only makes the trembling in her body all the worse, her sobs choking and suffocating her while she still tries to diligently work.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞  𝐚𝐧𝐝  𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧  𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬  𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐫  𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧,  mako  having  almost  taken  over  what  was  once  primarily  the  colour  of  polished  amber.  no  one  speaks  to  him;  they  don't  even  look  at  weiss,  but  he  watches  them  —  the  way  they  smile,  the  stubble  clinging  to  their  chins,  the  wrinkles  sagging  their  eyes.  he'd  kill  them  all,  not  for  the  crime  of  hurting  him  (  because  it  doesn't  hurt  )  but  for  laying  their  fingers  on  his  brother.  he  listens  to  their  scratching  voices,  groans  of  relief  that  this  torture  is  over,  that  they  can  have  a  break.  he  is  merely  an  afterthought,  only  being  released  just before  the  last  man  walks  out . . .

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎remaining  motionless,  his  gaze  goes  from  the  door,  watching  it  close  with  a  loud  creak,  then  to  the  buzzing, luminescent  light  above  him.  they  ring  in  his  ears,  contradicting  the  loud  rhythm  of  his  heart  beating.  the  pain  of  his  skin,  as  it  forces  it  back  to  being  whole,  felt  worse  than  when  it  was  cut  open.  like  the  sharp  blade  is  back  in  his  stomach,  digging  in,  twisting,  working  as  a  sewing  needle  despite  only  leaving  large  cuts.  it's  wasn't  just  a  dull  ache  that  hit  the  surface;  it  was  sharp,  affecting  his  insides  just  as  much  as  the  outside,  a  stabbing  sensation  that  feels  like  knives  twisting  and  tearing.  with  his  arms  free,  weiss  contemplates  forcing  his  hands  into  the  open  wounds  and  forcing  it  to  remain  open.  his  fingers  twitch.  the  irrational  thought  of  the  picture  book  bug  persists  as  if  it's  crawling  inside  him  along  with  a  thousand  tiny  insects,  each  one  leaving  behind  a  trail  of  burning,  itching  sensations.  the  scientists  said  they  couldn't  see  any  difference  between  him  and  a  human  no  matter  where  they  looked.  his  blood,  urine,  bones,  organs,  eyes,  muscles,  and  hair  were  all  that  of  a  human  being.  and  yet,  as  he  laid  out  on  the  cold  operating  table,  surrounded  by  enough  blood  to  scare  even  the  most  stone - faced  of  man,  weiss  was  anything  but.  to  consider  himself  human  made  him  sick;  he  wanted  nothing  to  do  with  them  —  it  didn't  matter  if  there  wasn't  a  physical  difference,  weiss  would  tear  himself  apart  to  prove  he  wasn't  the  same  species.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎pushing  himself  up  with  a  painful  wheeze,  the  young  boy  turns  towards  the  metal  door,  placing  a  hand  on  his  lower  abdomen  to  scratch.  it  hurts,  halting  the  regeneration  as  his  blunt  nails  rip  over  and  over.  it's  painful,  and  no  matter  how  much  he  scratch  or  rub  at  his  skin,  the  discomfort  persists.  as  if  weiss'  entire  body  is  rebelling  against  him,  screaming  out  in  protest  against  the  unbearable  torment  he'd  allowed  himself  to  endure.  but  weiss  doesn't  stop  —  even  as  every  breath  he  takes  is  agony,  sending  shooting  pains  through  his  chest,  making  it  feel  like  his  lungs  were  being  squeezed  in  a  vice  —  and  if  it  weren't  for  the  footsteps  approaching,  he'd  have  simply  dug  his  hand  deeper  into  the  gaping  wound,  removing  the  organs  to  finally  stop  the  pain.  but  instead,  weiss  lets  his  hand  fall,  fingertips  now  stained,  mirroring  the  rest  of  him.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ he  doesn't  greet  the  girl  with  a  frown,  not  a  smile  either;  he's  entirely  devoid  of  anything.  for  the  past  couple  of  days,  he'd  been  nothing  but  a  lifeless  bug  for  those  around  him  to  pin  as  they  pleased,  and  his  mind  had  accepted  that  fact,  nothing  short  of  being  at  nero's  side  would  repair  that.  he  stares  at  the  girl,  unblinking,  watching  her  wobble  as  if  she's  in  pain.  maybe  she  is,  he  wonders;  when  the  scientists  run  out  of  bugs  to  pick  apart,  do  they  turn  on  each  other  like  the  soldiers  do ?  they  weren't  like  him,  though;  they  didn't  get  up  after  a  bullet  to  the  head  and  didn't  continue  to  breathe  even  with  their  heart  pulled  from  their  chest,  so  he  guessed  not.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ❛❛  you're  going  to.  ❜❜  he  states,  his  own  voice  foreign  to  his  ears.  the  injection  to  get  him  moving  again  hadn't  spread  entirely  through  his  system,  and  it  seemed  his  throat  still  wasn't  functioning,  that  or  the  lack  of  food  and  water  was  affecting  him.  it  didn't  matter  though,  once  his  stomach  had  finished,  his  body  could  focus  on  healing  the  rest  of  him . . .

#muse;; miriam #sleeplesswork #verse;; shackled butterfly #• answered ic! #• interaction cont! #cw: gore #cw: body horror #// oh great heavens //

[myristicisms]

There is something so strange about how swiftly a wondrous opportunity can fall into lunacy, two years was all it took to go from a young lady with a bright future to feeling helpless, miserable and constantly afraid. Fear was something she had come to know all too well, cycling through her system alongside grief while she's forced to carry out orders because she was such a promising assistant that could truly make it big with her dedication if only she shut up and listened, if only she used her brain more than her heart and thought with logic rather than feelings. That's what she'd been told by the man in the glasses, his rat-like features contorting with grating laughter after each demand, each insult thrown towards her. It wasn't the constant belittling though that left her trembling each day, rather the ache in her heart to see so many suffering and being able to do nothing about it; Children, elderly, there was no discrimination in the pain that was inflicted upon the residents within the labs and yet no matter how she pleaded to treat them as the people they were, her grief was only ever mocked.

Miriam isn't shocked one bit when a metallic tang invades her senses, heavy footsteps swiftly approaching the blonde teenager before barking a demand at her. Clean-up, tend to the subject. It cackles, her heart drops into her stomach but she knows there's nothing she can say nor do to convince the man otherwise and even then, whoever was just tested on deserved gentle hands tending to their wounds, not clumsy fingers digging into already sore and irritated flesh. She sees the blood tainting his gloved fingers, once pristine coat stained in crimson and Miriam knows it's bound to be a mess, a disaster of a scene that will be added amongst the many other scenes carved into her memory. ( I'll be okay, I have to be okay. ) It's a silent mantra, one that she never fully believed but it was enough, it had to be enough to continue onwards as best she can even with the heavy guilt that ate away at the pallid teenager.

Her journey to the lab is long and tedious, many researchers glancing to her knowingly and none offering any warning for the sight she's bound to walk into and yet despite how insistent she had been to herself she would be fine, that nothing could be nearly that bad, she has to force herself from emptying what little she had eaten the night before at the strong scent of blood, at the child sat in the center of the crimson stained room and the way his flesh melded back together unnaturally. Tears sting hot upon her eyes, threatening to spill over as she fights her body's urge to retch and cautiously approaches him; He's familiar, one of the children she's tended to many times for shots and injections and basic check ups because that work was far too tedious for the older scientists, they were too good for mere nurse work and yet she never minded much.

“ Weiss... ” Soft and grief filled, her voice barely manages to break past her lips whilst Miriam slowly approaches the crimson covered boy with trembling legs. Teeth burrow deep into her cheek, senses being flooded with the salty taste of her own blood while she fights to remain stoic, struggles to force a gentle smile upon her features once she's knelt in front of the child. “ I... I'm here to clean you up, can... Can I do that? ”

@sleeplesswork | Weiss the Immaculate ;;

it's always the same; each and every day blends into the last, marring the young boy's concept of time. he'd never spent so long without nero since his brother was born, and something about that simple fact felt worse than the hands prodding at his insides; hurt more than the way a scalpel doesn't even try to be delicate as it cuts its way through pallid skin. he's conscious the entire time, whatever drugs the scientists had administered do nothing but take away his ability to move. weiss reminds himself of a bug pinned beneath a glass frame; he'd seen the picture in a book one of the scientists had given to him to pass the time. the only difference between himself and that creature was that whoever posed and pinned it was benevolent enough to kill the thing. the scientists examined weiss's organs to see if there were any differences between himself and humans — he thought about how the bug's wings were spread wide, ready to fly off of the books' page at any moment — there was nothing remarkable about the boy's organs, so they ran blood tests, again nothing. weiss wondered what it would take to kill a bug. would it be the same as slaughtering monsters, or easier because of its small size ?

as his skin forced itself back together, and his heart pounded within his ears, weiss's thoughts came to a halt when the head scientists declared they wouldn't get anywhere at this rate. the room was a mess after a week's worth of dissections, so they'd send in someone to clean up weiss and take him back to his cell, then the room would be sterilised, and they could resume. that was good; whatever was left of the boy's consciousness decided, he'd be able to see nero now.

#muse;; miriam #sleeplesswork #verse;; shackled butterfly #• answered ic! #cw body horror

[myristicisms]

Eyebrows raise ever so slightly, her features contorting into visible confusion at the man's expression simply because she doesn't quite understand what she could have said that may have upset him. Over the years Valk has learned to be as objective as possible, her feelings never mattered much as far as... Well, anything really and for him to be frowning over her stating something she found to be obvious was intriguing to say the least. The blue eyed woman isn't too sure about how those on the surface view medics but in Deepground they were only good for their job and that was it, they weren't highly respected but there was an unspoken rule to not cause them too much grief be it due to the Restrictors or because the citizens knew they'd be out of luck if they needed medical assistance and there were none with the necessary skills to aid them.

Even then though, it wasn't as if she were unarmed and it was clear from the muscle definition of her biceps and thighs alone that Valk was not untouched by the need for combat. “ Twelve years of experiencing the same pretty words will do that. ” She comments dryly, face softening once more at how nice of an expression he had. It's pleasant, warm like the sun she's not seen in so terribly long and she finds that his gaze wasn't terrible either, not nearly as cold and hateful as she was used to. ( Such pretty eyes, like sunlit honey. )

“ I could never do such a thing. ” And it's breathed out so wistfully, sorrow lingering within her voice despite the smile pulling upon her lips, then shame flickers in her gaze. “ I've tried for many years to be seen as something more, someone worth something but I'm only good for what my hands can mend I fear. It's not as though I demand respect or kindness in turn because I know to them I'm just as bad as the scientists that rend through their flesh. ” She'd learned early on, long before a dull ache tainted her spine and an ever present chill left her yearning for the warmth of a pleasant spring day, no matter how kind she was nor how successful she had been in tending to injuries, Valk was just as big a monster as the rest of the scientists purely because of her job. Desperation had pushed her into a position she no longer wanted to be in but she's no choice in how her life goes anymore.

“ It doesn't, but... It's nice to have hopes sometimes. I have dreams of feeling the sun once more, to hear my name uttered by those I had to leave behind and perhaps some day find the same kindness I show to others here, that you've shown to me as of late. I know it's naïve and really foolish but it makes being here slightly more tolerable. ”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲,  𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠  𝐭𝐡𝐞  𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐬  𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧’𝐭  𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠  the  shinobi  was  entirely  keen  on.  blinding  lights  and  the  stark  smell  of  antiseptics  were  enough  to  tell  that  terrible  things  occurred  before  and  after  sonon  was  within  the  white  walls.  based  on  what  the  sable  had  divulged,  he'd  been  right . . .   so  it  was  always  surprising  to  be  greeted  with  a  soft  —  if  somewhat  strained  —  smile when  he  entered.  at  first,  it  simply  was  because  of  the  wounds  nero  had  inflicted  during  their  fight;  after  that,  it  was  to  make  sure  they  were  healing  properly,  and  then  it  became  the  wutaian  dropping  by  whenever  the  emperor's  younger  brother  was  held  up  somewhere,  which  was  often . . .  he  knew  to  look  out  for  other  patients,  scientists  and  restrictors,  but  thus  far  sonon  considered  himself  lucky,  yet  to  run  into  any  large  bumps  in  the  road.  (  but  for  how  long  would  that  last  ?  ) 

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎with  his  arms  relaxed  by  his  side,  the  shinobi  almost  frowns  as  the  dark - haired  woman  continues.  he'd  grown  to  enjoy  her  company,  and  since  nero  hadn’t  voiced  any  complaints,  sonon  hadn’t  paid  mind  to  anyone  else’s  opinions.  he  may  be  a  prisoner  in  just  about  every  sense  of  the  word,  he  was  still  free  to  form  his  own  opinions  and  to  stick  to  them.  perhaps  his  thoughts  would  change;  the  longer  he  stayed,  the  darker  they  grew,  but  it  wouldn’t  change  the  beliefs  he'd  grown  with.  during  the  darker  days  in  wutai,  he'd  seen  nurses  and  those  who  assisted  in  first  aid  go  through  just  as  much  as  the  soldiers  did . . .  it  wasn’t  fair  to  assume  them  as  less  simply  because  they  held  no  weapon.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ❛❛  you’re  certain,  huh ?  ❜❜  despite  the  seriousness  of  his  words,  sonon  still  manages  a  smile,  speaking  lightly  —  as  if  the  duo  were  some where  else  in  the  world,  like  they  weren’t  within  a  laboratory  that  people  were  torn  apart  in.  it  was  something  unique  to  the  shinobi  for  while  most  below  the  city  had  a  way  of  making  this  underground  hell  even  more  suffocating,  such  a  thing  couldn’t  be  said  about  the  brown - eyed  man.  though  perhaps  that  was  simply  due  to  not  being  here  as  long  as  most . . .

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ❛❛  you  ought  to  leave  me  bleeding  if  I’m  suddenly  rude  to  you  ❜❜  a  laugh  spills  past  his  lips,  one  that  doesn’t  quite  carry  over  to  his  following  words.  ❛❛  if  that’s  how  you  expect  everyone  to  see  you,  treat  you,  it’s  always  gonna  happen . . .  ❜❜  dark  brows  furrow  for  a  moment;  that’s  how  he  sees  it,  at  least.  something, something  about  willing  those  negative  things  into  existence,  but  then  nero  comes  to  mind,  where  they  are  hits  him,  and  the  wutaian  knows  she’s  right.  in  the  world  valk  lives  in  (  the  one  he's  been  forced  into  )  there’s  no  laughing  something  off  and  hoping  for  it  to  get  better.  ❛❛  though,  guess  that  sort  of  thinking  doesn’t  get  you  far  in  deepground.  ❜❜

#muse;; miriam #sleeplesswork #verse;; shackled butterfly #• answered ic! #• interaction cont! #// it's rubbing off a lil!!! #kind of #ahaha totally no strange red heads at all #ones that show up to explain things hehe #how weird !! //

[myristicisms]

“ Likewise, I quite like spoiling my dates you know. ” Despite the purr to his voice there's a refusal to properly meet Sephiroth's gaze, something about feeling far too seen and a meekness seldom observed within the sage eyed man. His heart stirs slightly at the idea of something more, this wasn't going to just be casual sex if they're going to have dates and such and even then it's only further solidified the fact that his feelings for the taller man most definitely weren't unrequited. It's as thrilling as it is terrifying because they'd be stepping into uncharted territory for their friendship and yet he's already trying to think of ways for them to enjoy their time together. Fancy dates were nice but Genesis knew the silver haired man well enough to know public outings weren't particularly enticing and he was inclined to agree, privacy being something the ginger also valued.

He's ripped from his thoughts with a jolt, eyes wide before he grumbles softly in irritation and fully sits up properly. “ Careful now, I'll think you've fallen hopelessly in love with me if you speak like that. ” There's a soft laugh once more, body visibly relaxing while observing the other man, grins at the feeling of lips pressing against his face before gently grabbing Sephiroth's jaw to keep his face in place, plants a chaste kiss to the silver general's mouth in turn.

“ Mm.. That works for me, though to be frank I think a night in would do us fine; Dinner at mine perhaps? We'll find a day for it, that way we'll have privacy. ” And it's not even for the sake of what their night will inevitably end with but simply because he wanted a calm night for their first date, something truly intimate and special rather than being gawked at. There's a soft hum, curious before he nearly chokes then nods along, “ Oh? Well I won't say I'm opposed to the idea so long as you're fine with it; I've always wanted to see how it is you wash your hair. ”

"Properly seduce me? Hm, I think I'll be looking forward to that." Sephiroth grins a little, tilting his head as he looks at Genesis, simply admiring him. A date would be...something. It's not anything like he's used to. He very much keeps to himself, content with his books and his own company. Going out means facing those crowds of people who would do nothing but swarm him all night. While he can deal with it, it does get a bit overwhelming after a while, especially when he's just trying to enjoy himself. Still, for Genesis...he would bear it. Maybe they could go on a night where there might not be so many people out. That way they could both have a little peace with each other.

He stretches his arms above his head, and that's when a secondary alarm goes off. Sephiroth nearly jumps in surprise, having forgotten to turn it off when he initially woke up. "Look at that, you made me forget about this alarm. See the effect you have on me?" he teases, pressing the off button before he leans over and presses a kiss to Genesis' cheek. This kind of joy is something he hasn't felt in a very long time. Part of Sephiroth hopes that he never has to be without it.

"But..we really should get up. Maybe we can plan our, um, date later. If you want." It feels strange to say it out loud. A date with Genesis, something he thought he might only ever dream of. "When we have downtime. I was thinking we could go when not a lot of people would be out, but...we can hash out the details at another time." And pause, then he clears his throat before "...The shower should be big enough for both of us, if you have no issues with me joining you."

#muse;; genesis rhapsodos #phantasiiae #• answered ic! #• interaction cont!

[myristicisms]

The thought comes naturally to her, something she can't help but to voice out of mere curiosity while she tends to her company, Kusakabe had made himself well acquainted within her lab and while she certainly enjoyed the man's company, she can't help but wonder why he visited so often; It definitely wasn't just a matter of her tending to his wounds anymore simply because she didn't need to check those every time he stops by to say hello and chat about whatever comes to mind. Thus she comes to a conclusion, he likely views her as weak much the same as the Tsviets do otherwise he would be spending his time elsewhere instead of killing it in her presence.

What she doesn't expect though is for him to outright deny it, he's a smart man and he's right to some degree; Strength is what keeps the warriors alive, those within the research department often are kept safe by the Restrictors out of a sense of duty, similar interests aligning and what not. There's a soft laugh that comes with the thought, lips curving into a gentle smile while the raven haired woman properly looks at her company. “ Is that so? ” Then her gaze hardens ever so slightly. “ In due time I'm certain your thoughts will change on the matter, everyone always says the same thing then once you're on the field, interacting with the residents here, it always fades into the same old thing. A woman who doesn't engage in combat that resides within the science unit, able and willing yet forced to stay as a nurse. ”

Rumours within Deepground were always fast to pickup regardless of if there was any meat to it or not, outside of missions and training, the residents beneath Midgar hadn't much else to entertain themselves with aside from gossip and unfortunately Valk was not a stranger to having rumours spread about her in particular. “ Not that it matters too much though, in the end I'll likely still have you sat where you are now just as some of the others tend to do; I only hope you'll still maintain that kindness you have. ”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤  𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐬  𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰  𝐚𝐭  𝐭𝐡𝐞  𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧  𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝;  it  was  certainly  out  of  the  blue,  weak  ?  sonon  had  to  pause.  he'd  been  in  deepground  for  three  weeks  now  (  often  trying  to  ignore  how  close  that  time  was  coming  to  an  entire  month  )  and  still  felt  out  of  his  depth.  an  entire  civilisation,  locked  beneath  the  city  of  midgar,  tortured  and  experimented  on.  it  would  be  a  lot  to  take  in  under  different  circumstances,  but  being  amidst  the  fray . . .  it  was  often  too  much  to  think  about,  but  in  the  end,  this  had  been  the  price  he  paid  for  yuffie  to  leave  safely,  which  was  something  kusakabe  was,  nonetheless, ever  grateful  for.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎❛❛  i  don't.  you  have  to  be  strong  to  survive  down  here.  ❜❜  he  answered  after  what  felt  like  too  long  of  a  pause  —  though  it  was  probably  only  a  couple  of  seconds.  no  one  who  was  here  could  be  considered  weak;  even  the  bottom  of  the  food  chain  had  struggled  enough  to  make  it  onto  said  food  chain.  physically  strong  or  not,  sonon  definitely didn't  consider  valk  weak. 

@myristicisms sent: ❝ you think I’m weak ? ❞ miriam to sonon ( deepground verse )

#muse;; miriam #sleeplesswork #verse;; shackled butterfly #• answered ic! #• interaction cont! #// was a rare w until miriam got sad #soo la voo //

[myristicisms]

Crimson clad fingers slowly dig into the lush green of Banora's ground, calming the heated roiling of a grief he'd long thought gone since the first air strike had destroyed all signs of the people that once lived upon the now ruined land. ShinRa may have erased the existence of the buildings but Genesis had done the heavy lifting with the villagers, both parties equal in the destruction of a once beautiful village yet blood tainted the swordsman's hands and stuck like an ichor. There is a rare shame that he finds in that knowledge, disappointment in the man he's become and grief for who he should have been. “ Because you deserve an apology for all you've been subjected to. I do not know every detail and it is not my business but I do know that much of your woes wouldn't have happened had I not... ” Had he not been such a coward, had death not loomed over the ginger and left him feeling as though his only hope was to comply with a moronic scientist.

The outdoors hadn't ever been his preference and yet sat beneath the cloudy skies under the warm light of the sun was... Nice. It was nostalgic and calming yet wistful all the same; Many memories of a brown eyed boy shouting to him, playing amongst the trees of his family's orchards and visiting the Hewleys, they were all fond yet the people in those memories, the trees and the fields he once ran wild in were no more. He was all that was left of Banora and soon he would crumble to the wind and take those memories with him.

There was no rage left to hang onto, just sorrow and disappointment, whatever anger Rhapsodos had left was directed to himself. There was so much more he should have done before throwing in the towel, he should have argued more or perhaps just resigned himself to the fact that he was a failure and his body was simply reflecting the fact. He only wishes it did not take him so long to fully understand that his ire should never have been so widespread, he had punished the wrong people for something nobody could have seen coming nor fixed and that too only leaves that pit of grief all the heavier.

Someday that will fade away too, as most feelings often tend to do and perhaps eventually both men will find some sort of solace, the past being something to look back upon and learn from with a subtle numbness rather than sorrow and wrath; Healing takes time and the arrow of time waits for nobody, Genesis has long since learned to give up on the idea of controlling his own narrative. Being seen as he was compared to who he wanted to be, façades and bravados, none of it mattered in the long run and there's some sort of foolish irony in the fact that a man who worked so hard to earn the respect of so many would end up alone once more.

Contentment is not something the once proud warrior often experienced, yet he sat with a gentle smile atop his features, sage hues gazing skyward. “ I am content with that, it takes a strong man not to hate those who have wrought havoc upon his life. I pray someday the turmoil you are experiencing eases into nothing and maybe you can continue onwards in your journey with your head held high. Perhaps we'll meet again eventually under better circumstances. ”

"Why did you have to say that?" There was no anger to Zack's words, no frothing energy that should have been considering the admission he'd just made to him. There seemed only to exist a heavy resignation to it all that mixed well the slumped posture of his shoulders and the way his head hung low. He lowered himself to sit beside the man, though did not once allow his eyes to trail in his direction. Rather he looked straight ahead, toward the horizon, toward what potentially awaited for them over that line that he could see with his naked eye.

The fog that settled within range of their sights was very fitting for the moment, the uncertainty, the fear of what the unknown might yet present. Zack had no idea how to proceed and yet proceed he would.

He wished for anger from the man, something to push back against him, give him a reason to respond. A WAY to react that would make more sense to him. He certainly wasn't a philosophical guy. He had the sort of head that grasped emotions and ran with them, not the sort that could sit and.... ABSORB said emotions, allow them to circulate and coagulate on the inside. He wouldn't even really know how to express it all.

He wanted to hate him. He didn't.

There was something that the two of them would invariably suffer to the end of their days, however short, however long that remained to be seen, something they shared as kindred spirits.

Regret.

Regret, if rooted deeply enough in the soul, could act as a toxin raging from within, spreading throughout the body, sullying the mind and all the thoughts that composed it. It was a heavy burden to bear for all.

If only they could strive for a life without regret, without hesitation, without anything that would weigh so heavily on their hearts as the death of his friend eventually had.  But as with most things, life was unpredictable at best, and it wasn't always possible to hold true to sentiments, no matter how strongly one believed in them.  He had discovered that the hard way.

"I don't forgive you. But I... don't hate you either."

#muse;; genesis rhapsodos #fairlybeloved #• answered ic! #• interaction cont!

[myristicisms]

Being bold ran in his blood it seemed, vocal as ever about his wants unless they were something far too close to his heart and while his heart yearned and sung for the affection of the man curled into him, Genesis was content to at least try to play things off casually; Clearly they're both dancing upon a dangerous line that could fall into territory neither of them were fully prepared for. Casual flings and hookups were easy enough for the ginger, feelings on the other hand were a completely different monster and years of pining through their friendship certainly was bound to make whatever they plan to have all the more of a mess.

Genesis cherished his friendship with Sephiroth but the lingering curiosity of whether or not he'll finally be able to indulge that desire to be claimed, to be loved, was something he wanted to explore, foolish a man as he is.

“ Is that so? I'm happy to hear you enjoyed my services then. ” It's a playful comment, some moronic attempt to hide his heart once more and a means of trying to seem less enthusiastic than he really was. The thrum of Sephiroth's voice in his skin was all the more thrilling, the gentle rumble pleasantly ticklish to the point that a light, undignified snort parts past his lips. He notes the shifting of the other man and turns to look down at him, misty sages focusing upon the silver haired man's features.

Lips are curled into a gentle smile, an eyebrow raising curiously at the small affection offered to him and he'd happily drink up whatever the younger would offer him without any hesitation. ( How greedy. ) “ I don't see any reason we can't plan our next little tango, it would give me time to properly seduce you. ” Not to say spur of the moment was off the table completely but Genesis seldom had a reason to ‘ pretty ’ himself up, that was a treat reserved for those he deemed worth seeing him put effort into his attempts at seduction. “ Leave however many you want wherever you want, I quite like the prospect of being marked up by you for all to see; Though I won't be offended if you leave them in inconspicuous places too. ”

Well, Sephiroth is glad that he doesn't have to ask. The mere thought of having to be the one to possibly offer this happening again made his stomach flip uncomfortably. He's not very good with vulnerability, with facing his emotions head on. Even as Genesis drops several obvious hints, he almost wonders if pursuing this would be a good idea. Their friendship means everything to him, and while they've already crossed the line, well...he'd hate to ruin it, should anything happen.

But doesn't he deserve something good, too? Even if he can't fathom the idea of someone genuinely wanting and needing him like this?

"...I would not be displeased if this happened again," is what Sephiroth finally murmurs into Genesis' neck, voice slightly muffled. He can already feel his face heating up with it. It's embarrassing. It's embarrassing, but a bit relieving, like a weight has been lifted off of him. Sephiroth lifts his head slightly to meet Genesis' gaze, and it feels like all of his thoughts and feelings are being laid bare before him. While he would normally want to run away from that kind of thing..with Genesis? Perhaps not.

He shifts slightly, if only to sit up more, just to press a kiss to the top of Genesis' head. "I would like it if it was not so spur of the moment, too." What is this that he's admitting to? Wanting to plan this properly? A date of some kind? He wants to laugh at himself for the ridiculousness of it all, but he also just wants to see Genesis smile. "And I could leave more next time. I just wasn't sure how much I was allowed...but now I know."

#muse;; genesis rhapsodos #phantasiiae #• answered ic! #• interaction cont! #idk genesis is getting all in his feelings too #fucking vs making love or sumn LMAO #very cute and ur so welcome to yell at me on disc over them hehe

[myristicisms]

Through the many years of simply just existing, there's always been an ever lingering dread that nagged at the back of his mind; A small little voice that never quite understood the term kindness even if that kindness would be directed towards himself because Genesis Rhapsodos was not a man deserving of such a thing. Abrasive and prickly, greedy and selfish to a degree, those were all traits that had always lingered beneath the surface of a kindly smile and gentle façade long since tossed the side in his grief grappling with his own mortality. He lashed out upon those who admittedly did not deserve the crimson commander's ire and in turn has destroyed many lives.

Regret is one hell of a feeling, the ginger found. It was cold and unfamiliar, nearly as painful as the knowledge of his demise that was to come eventually and the grief of mourning those he's lost by his own actions. It's always amusing to think, sat within the remains of the village he'd grown up in, had been born in, that perhaps he might die here. The ache of the degradation had faded, a vision he's certain was just a near death hallucination seemingly healed the splitting of flesh. ( How odd. )

Not that it matters much anymore, propped against the wood of an old chair digging into his back, grass inevitably staining the red of his coat and for once Genesis can't bring it in himself to fuss over the possible mess. Tranquility, silence, peace for once; It's as pleasant as the gentle breeze tousling his hair until sage hues finally open at the familiar crunch of one of those damned apples. There is amusement in his features, gratitude warming through the ginger's body and foggy as his mind feels while conversing with Angeal's puppy- No, with Zack, one thing manages to ring clear as a bell; Forgiveness was not something the mage deserved, admittedly, and he wasn't going to insist upon his apology being accepted for all he's done.

Genesis was not a good man, at one point perhaps but a dog that weeps after rending flesh is still as guilty as the dog that celebrates and he had mercilessly slain so many for some foolish goal. Self preservation made for the perfect excuse of tossing his morals and honor to the side, his dreams long since forgotten for some stupid idea that he knew was just a myth. “ That's fine. ”

And he means it too, despite the leaden feeling of his body and the urge to just close his eyes once more, there is still a lot left to be said. “ He would be proud of you, you know. I know it means nothing coming from me given our history but you've become a true paragon of what it means to be a soldier with honor, your forgiveness is yours to give and I know I am not worthy of it, however I only hope you are able to continue onwards with a lighter heart, Zack. ”

@fairlybeloved | Zack Fair

❛ i don't know if i can forgive you. ❜

#muse;; genesis rhapsodos #fairlybeloved #• answered ic!

[myristicisms]

Ganna's little PSA is that when I'm answering asks or doing starters for people, I have a really bad habit of just yapping to try and set a scene and I never expect replies to be the same length as what I pop out because I know I ramble in my writing, especially for characters that refuse to shut up such as Genesis.

#ganna's ooc!!!

[myristicisms]

Today on what is Ganna gonna do instead of working their job, possibly update Genesis and Miriam's verses ( I need to tweak her FF7 verse a bit since there's some branch offs of it + elaborate more on her default verse. ), possibly do a Genesis reply depending on how verse stuff goes and all of that. Chatting with Sleepless ooc so often has made me realize I really need to get those verses written out and elaborated upon better.

#ganna's ooc!!!

[myristicisms]

Someday the sun will rest upon her flesh, she's decided. Years and years ago the very idea of thinking something so foolish would have her feeling nothing but shame, it's stupid to think but in a world where you've nothing but dreams, well wishes and hopes, it's the only thing that keeps her going. Someday she'll luck out and perhaps find a means of escaping or the professor will take pity upon her to allow her to at least visit her brother's resting place and she'll take it even if it means being forced to return to this hell. It is moments such as this, of dealing with the Tsviets and those who believe themselves to be better than everyone else, that she has to remember that hope of hers and remain steadfast even when forced to be face to face with the fact that Valk was likely never going to see the sun again, wouldn't get to hear music nor rest beneath the stars.

It's delusional in a way but it's what keeps her content. “ You should know as well as I do that you don't compare to some of the scientists here; Think what you like but the fact is you'll never scare me let alone make me nervous. ” And it was mostly true, fear was for those who had something to lose and as far as Valk was concerned, the moment the name Miriam was stripped from her and her long blonde hair turned raven black, she lost whatever it was she had to live for. Death was inevitable, it was a matter of when and how and frankly she couldn't care much for the answer for either. In all her years of observing Weiss, essentially growing up alongside him there was never a moment she felt completely unsafe in his presence, he never gave her any reason to despite the fact that she knew he easily could snap her neck with his bare hands. There was only indifference to it, vague irritation but that's simply just because she knew he viewed her similar to that of an ant, weak and pathetic on her own and while partially true it didn't mean the sentiment was appreciated.

There's a soft hum that drones in her throat, pushing past pallid lips once she finishes her preparations then approaches the immaculate one, needle in hand before carefully sticking it into the arm offered to her. It's as gentle a gesture as always and yet his comment makes her gaze harden; Careful stoicism dropping into vague annoyance before crystalline blues roll. “ Perhaps if I had an audience worth telling them to, you've already made your disinterest in my tales very clear so why waste my breath upon deaf ears? ”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎𝐥𝐚𝐳𝐢𝐥𝐲  𝐥𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠  𝐡𝐢𝐬  𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝  𝐭𝐨  𝐭𝐡𝐞  𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞,  a  laugh  slips  past his  lips.  weiss found  endless  amusement  in  the  humans  that  scurried  beneath  the  city  of  midgar,  locked  in  a  den  with  creatures  like  himself.  they  may  believe  themselves  omnipotent  —  for  man  had  science,  they  had  learned  to  summon  the  lifestream !  the  emperor  only  mocked  such  exploits;  it  didn't  matter  what  man  could  accomplish,  they  would  inevitably  fall  below  a  higher  being's  heel.  it  was  only  natural  for  the  scientist  before  him  to  be  nervous;  she  needn't  be  scared  of  him  to  experience  such  a  feeling.  even  when  subservient,  weiss  would  always  remain  a  danger;  it  was  a  truth  known  all  too  well:  that  it  wasn't  an  if  the  emperor  would  attack,  only  a  when.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ❛❛  merely  because  i  don't  try  to  scare  you.  ❜❜  so  self - assured,  as  he  is  with  everything  he  states  —  even  worse  so  is  that  most  drink  up  the  immaculate's  words.  what  use  would  a  prisoner  have  to  lie  ?  it  appeared  that  only  a  handful  of  individuals  understood  he  had  all  to  gain  with  his  charm  and  nothing  to  lose.  and  yet,  no  matter  how  wild,  the  white - haired  man  is  still  leashed,  and  so  when  his  arm  is  requested,  he  complies.  despite  the  drastic  changes  over  the  years,  that  much  hadn't  changed  —  valk  would  have  never  seen  weiss  fight  against  anything  besides  simulators.  he  may  kill  when  provoked,  but  it  was  never  an  act  to  prevent  experimentation. 

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ a  willing  victim,  that's  what  the  restrictor  had  barked  one  day,  masked  head  tilting  towards  the  duo  (  allowed  in  the  room  for  a  change  due  to  an  incident  only hours  prior  )  before  laughing  —  a  deep  venom-dripped  sound  —  if  you  could  even  call  someone  like  weiss,  a  victim.  he  wasn't  human  enough  to  be  called  something  like  that,  not  when  the  boy  enjoyed  it,  not  when  he  deserved  it.  of  course,  the  tyrant  didn't  care  to  notice  the  way  weiss  looked  at  him  as if he  was  a  mere  moment  away  from  striking,  because the  boy  stayed  pliant.  even now, after years  had  passed.  weiss  was  no  longer  a  quiet  child  who  allowed  himself  to  be  dragged  along.  he  stood  taller  than  his  captors,  stronger  than  them,  too;  he  stood  proud.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ watching  the  woman  from  the  corner  of  his  eye  as  she  readies  the  needle,  weiss  frowns  for  merely  a  second  when  her  blue  gaze  is  elsewhere  before  speaking  up  once  more,  just  as  amused  though  this  time  mocking.  ❛❛  what,  not  in  the  mood  to  tell  stories  today ?  ❜❜

#muse;; miriam #sleeplesswork #• interaction cont! #• answered ic! #verse;; shackled butterfly #// she's about to be a problem too //

[myristicisms]

There's something about the agreement, the admittance, that sets Genesis's nerves alight; He's never been one to flush at the prospect of someone wanting the visage of his bare body to only be seen by them and them alone yet the implication, even if unintentional, leaves the crimson mage feeling far too warm. A subtle tremor wracks through his lithe frame, practically arching into Sephiroth's hands near desperately for more of the man's touch because it scratched an itch he never thought he'd had and it's bound to turn into something troublesome later. “ Well, should this end up a more... Common scenario, perhaps neither of us will have to worry about that. ” Cryptic as ever yet even with the door wide open as far as his feelings go, Genesis still was far too wary of rejection. Sephiroth was always honest though when confronted on what it is the man may have wanted or what his intentions for something are unless it was truly something the younger man truly refused to speak upon.

It doesn't matter in the moment though, lips pressing into his throat keeps the ginger's attention focused on the man invading all of his senses. A pathetic attempt at hiding the stutter in his breathing while sage eyes fondly gaze at the slowly traveling silver, awkward an angle as it is he's grateful to cradle Sephiroth's head with the limited mobility in his arm. It would be far more tender and romantic of a moment were they lovers and not just friends who happen to yearn for one another.

“ There's many things I can think of that I need but... Another time, I suppose. ” Plush lips curl into something devious, body briefly tensing at the puff of air against his flesh before swiftly relaxing. “ Is that so? It's a shame we didn't have more time but alas... You certainly wore me out, although my one complaint is you didn't leave nearly enough markings upon me. ” And such a small and ridiculous complaint it was, selfish in a way but it sounds more like a suggestion than genuine feedback. A soft hum buzzes through Genesis's throat, head shifting to press an indulgent kiss to Sephiroth's temple. “ As did I, hopefully this wasn't just a one off sort of thing. ”

Sephiroth finds himself laughing softly, content with holding Genesis for the moment, just feeling skin against skin, his fingers gently tracing up and down his sides. It is rare indeed that Sephiroth allows for such vulnerability and intimacy. He doesn't think he's been comfortable enough with anyone for quite some time to be seen in this way. It's a nice change of pace, just for his mind to be silent and to enjoy the moment without worrying about anything. "Fair enough. I'd rather not let anyone see you like this, either." For it is a sight that he'll covet, keeping it in his mind's eyes for as long as possible. Seeing Genesis like this might be a rare treat, and he doesn't know when he might get this again.

He's loathe to even let him get up, but they'll have to at some point or another. Even still, he continues to press his lips along his neck, trailing them up to his jawline. Sephiroth can't really help himself. He doesn't indulge much at all. If this is to be a regular occurrence, well...he won't complain at all.

"Of course you can use my shower. Whatever you need," he murmurs against his skin, letting out a soft sigh. Genesis is warm and soft and this moment just feels like absolute bliss. "I could say the same. You...are something else," he teases, another quiet laugh escaping him. They went to the point of utter exhaustion, which is no surprise, considering how long they've likely been pining for each other. "I rather enjoyed myself."

#muse;; genesis rhapsodos #phantasiiae #• answered ic! #• interaction cont! #they're so sweet what the hell #peeping genesis dropping THREE HINTS calm down bro #absolute buffons but PLEASE SQUARE LET THEM HAVE A HAPPY ENDING

[myristicisms]

Loneliness and silence were things that went well together, as a child he was rambunctious and loud, playful until his mother had sat him down and told him he was too old to act immaturely and with very little people in his life to actually chat with genuinely, he became withdrawn for a few years. It wasn't until he'd been pushed from his shell by Angeal after knowing the other boy for a few years that he started figuring out how to separate who he was from who he wanted to be and eventually became who he is today; It's hard to kick old habits ingrained into one from authoritative figures, it's a big reason Genesis has come to struggle so terribly with taking orders and following another's lead after being independent for so long.

He supposes life is amusing in that way, to adapt to one thing only for the complete opposite to happen and needing to restart the cycle of relearning how to properly function and balance the past experiences with future ones. He'd always been good at adjusting, or Genesis hoped he was anyways given there was no one to teach him the ropes.

That's how it had always been though, there was no one but the Hewleys and his books and that was simply just not enough to properly establish a good form of healthy coping, especially not with what he's observed of his parents and how they navigated conflict; Loud and angry, bold and swift yet not calculating enough. Many of the folk in Banora were more savvy with common sense sorts of things, not all of them were highly book smart but they knew enough to get by and perhaps that had been a big reason Genesis navigated the world the way he did; They did not use large scientific words nor were their phrases flowery, they were crass at times and there was often hidden meaning in their terms that took the ginger far too long to properly pick up on let alone lay to rest.

“ Yeah, sorry if it wasn't a great explanation, 'Geal is a helluva lot better at explaining what things mean than I am. ” More patient too although it's not like Genesis felt particularly bothered trying to elaborate, he just hated how difficult it was to try and figure out how to translate what he says into what he means. The fact that the raven haired boy understood him well enough to be able to just explain with so much ease was something he envied yet was grateful for all the same because Genesis navigated the world with a sharpened tongue and suspicious eyes, swift to grow irate over the smallest things but not quite wanting to allow his irritation to show.

He was always trapped between wanting to just be Genesis and needing to be a Rhapsodos.

Thus far though, he feels relatively comfortable allowing the dignified mask to slip, Sephiroth hasn't yet given him a reason to hide away like he does with most of ShinRa, especially with the way the silver haired teen joined him in his foolish antics. ( That's got to mean something! ) Perhaps they're not quite to a point where he can confidently say the younger boy was a friend but he certainly was getting there with the newly established camaraderie.

“ Yeah I'm sure, don't tell me you're getting cold feet. ” And despite how rude the phrase might've been there's a gentle warmth in his tone, perhaps he would be disappointed should the first class decide not to indulge him in a spar but the sage eyed teen wasn't going to throw a tantrum over the matter; He knows what the result would be regardless and while it could prove humiliating to be absolutely humbled by someone younger than he is, it would make for a good learning experience too. “ If you don't want to spar then perhaps you could observe me while I train and give pointers? I don't often get any helpful feedback and I think that might be why I'm starting to stagnate a bit. ”

Sephiroth is strange. He knows very well that he is strange compared to so many others his age, though what that really means, he doesn't have enough awareness of the world to quite understand. He only knows that he is strange because people often comment on it in front of him, as if they view him as invisible. A pet, a piece of the environment, something neither seen nor heard unless they need to see and hear him.

He has been taught well that he is to be respectful, that he is to be quiet, that he is to trouble no one because no one will tolerate being troubled by him.

Though intelligent, his intelligence emphasizes book intelligence, not so much the intelligence that came with interacting with the world. Genesis is new to him, and his way of speaking is unlike anything he's heard in the labs.

"Oh. I understand." When put that way, he does understand, sort of, and he guesses in time he will truly understand. In time and with experience observing Genesis and learning how he interacted with the world.

That they might eventually become friends... Truly friends, because Sephiroth doesn't really think they're friends yet, and if he was honest with himself, he doesn't think that Genesis thinks too much of him as anything except as maybe a rival.

"...Are you sure about this?" he asks, though it feels a little like too late to be asking. He knows what Genesis wants: to fight him. And his reticence is more than well-earned. He doesn't want to hurt Genesis, even in a friendly spar, and he doesn't want to win over him, either. But he doesn't know what else to do but win, and the idea of just not winning has never, for a moment, touched his mind.

#muse;; genesis rhapsodos #warofthebeasts #• answered ic! #• interaction cont!