―♱―

𝐀 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞                𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒂𝒓 ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

[visionaryanarchist]

𝐈'𝐌 𝑨𝑹𝑴𝑬𝑫 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇, 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐋 I ruin everything I get my bony hands on.

I've got solar flares for your dead gods , space dust for your fuel rods Dark days for your solstice , dancing through the depths of Hellfire , on the winds that started from within My blood beats so alive , might tear right through my skin ⸻

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A STORY OF · · striving for greatness · childhood dreams turned into nightmares · fighting against all odds · ambition becoming violence · being trapped in one's ways · defying fate · being set up to fail and still trying time and time again · the mind as a fractured thing · a knight with no one to protect · anger as a shield · fire burning inside · self-destruction as form of punishment · being self-aware yet unable to change · the cut-flower sound of a man waiting to die · a smile made of war · ·

                                    ❝I am a thrived chaos.❝

⸻ · · VISIONARYANARCHIST: A private, semi-selective, low activity, mutuals only, plot heavy 🙴 headcanon based take on 𝐒𝐞𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐥𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈 written by 🧿 𝐍𝖎𝖍𝖎𝖑 // Jay (+30) . he/they . CEST. Please read the rules before following. MDNI. EST 2020 . RE EST 2025

𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒘 𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒍𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒌.

DIRECTORY

··⟢  𝐑𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬   ··⟢ 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭    ··⟢  𝐃𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐫 ··⟢  𝐀𝐬𝐤 𝐌𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 ··⟢  𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐬 ··⟢  𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐛𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 ··⟢  𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ··⟢  𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 

𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒘𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒏 (𝒂𝒇𝒇𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅) 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 ⸻

@mutepragmatist

― 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥: @zauneyed . @megalomanist . @zenolacrum

― 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐲: extremely low // active when I can

AI usage gets you hardblocked. Don't do it boo.

[visionaryanarchist]

probably will be rather spotty this week as I am on a team event trip thursday (returning sometime on friday), have to take care of some work and non-work related stuff and need to prepare for a co-worker sleeping over at my place next monday. I'll be around when time and energy allows though, just likely a bit quieter.

[visionaryanarchist]

what in the resident evil have I walked into

[visionaryanarchist]

in other news, what I do love is how Estharian this level looks!

[visionaryanarchist]

continued from here

Astounding how much it took him to let his hand linger, the touch barely connecting, forcing himself to be that steady pillar he'd wanted to be when the movement commenced, despite an inner voice screaming at him to not ever touch Squall again.

Just as surprising was the fact that the other didn't move away, didn't even truly flinch. Especially when Seifer full well knew that Squall did not appreciate being touched, or crowded. Maybe that was the reason it felt a little easier for him to remain as he was?

For the time being, he elected to refrain from giving his thoughts on Time Compression — and Artemisia — allowing for the other to set the pace of the conversation. Clearly he had been through something no one had made him privy to yet, and frankly, Seifer wanted to know what it was. He privately had always prided himself knowing the other one better than anyone else, and not being able to tell as much about what went through that aloof head of Squall's definitely caused some discomfort. As if he was still entitled to know as much to begin with…

So when Squall set to speak, the blond's brows knitted slightly, expression stern as he tried to imagine what it must have been like to be stuck in the described vertigo, always pushing forward yet never reaching anything. No goal, no enemy to fight, no place, nothing. A truly and thoroughly horrifying circumstance to be stuck in.

Years, maybe even decades…

The words were enough to have Seifer inhale a sharp breath, his fingers unintentionally curling into the fabric where his hand was still resting on Squall's arm, lips pressed thin. He himself had been through something not exactly similar, but when Artemisia took away his sleep, every minute of the day seemed to stretch impossibly, his head all foggy and dazed, confusion hard to push past. He could only guess how terrible it must have been to not just be caught in this kind of haze, but to physically be stuck like that.

Still remaining how he was, he let Squall continue, listened to how he believed the sorceress had somehow still been present, taunting and cursing him, as if hellbent on taking him down with her, if it was the last thing she could do. It was then that he moved, not thinking twice about it, his grip tightening further as he pulled Squall closer, arms snaking around the other. It was impulsive, and probably his former rival would finally be fed up with him encroaching into his space like that, but hearing what he had been through made him feel like he'd slip out of his grasp any moment, taken back into whatever hellscape it was Time Compression had forced him into.

"….'m sorry…", he murmured, breath ghosting over brunet hair as he pulled Squall in even tighter, inhaling his scent for what seemed to be the first time in their lives.

"I was stupid to follow her in Timber. Should've known better. You should never have needed to go this far."

Had he not sworn to himself to make sure Squall was ready for everything? Had he not, without ever saying it out loud, sworn to protect him?

@mutepragmatist

[visionaryanarchist]

what in the resident evil have I walked into

[visionaryanarchist]

rubbing my hands now's the time to slap back!!!!

[visionaryanarchist]

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐊𝐘 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔? ↳ stormy sky

you don't shy away from expressing yourself. your emotions can be unpredictable, but you try not to stifle them. you're passionate to a fault. you are fiercely loyal and won't hesitate to defend and protect the people and things you care about. but you can be impatient at times - with yourself and with others. sometimes you turn to "easier" emotions like anger when you don't know how to handle things like guilt, grief, or helplessness

tagged by: @xgrieverspride (forever ago AAA - thank you!) tagging: everyone that hasn't done this yet!

[inaloversquarrel]

[derangedrhythms]

The desire to see him, to be with him, made a dark sick pain which gradually assumed the aspect of fate.

Iris Murdoch, The Philosopher's Pupil

[iffylogic]

Reminder: FFVIII's opening cutscene ended with Squall slashing back at Seifer, but then the game opens with Squall waking up in the infirmary. He blacked out. They were the only two people out there.

Seifer carried him home.

[soulsalight]

Irvine's teeth dug deep into the leather of his belt as Seifer worked the bullet out. Irvine's breath came in short sharp bursts before, but the moment the edge of the metal dove into him, his lungs locked up and his entire body with them. It didn't make Seifer's job any easier, nor did it help with the white hot pain that came with it. Notably, there was no sound from Irvine, though, not beyond one initial whimper which he immediately clamped down on when he felt it come over his quivering lips. There was no bravado in his posturing anymore, his face pale, fingers trembling, but his eyes never left Seifer's now bloodied hands. His gaze sharp as the steel used to rid him of the bullet.

His vision swam, he felt himself sway on his feet, his jaw tightly set and teeth buried deep into the belt between his lips. Still, no sound. Not as the knife dug deeper, and not as Seifer pressed the piece of cloth against his wound afterwards. But Irvine's body did give in at that point. He slumped as if the proverbial strings that held him up before were cut from one instant to the next. His vision went dark at the edges for a moment, his body briefly slumped forward, but he fought himself back to full consciousness soon after. Just in time to hear Seifer's voice cut through the haze of pain and fear, which Irvine was desperately trying to not let get to him. The belt slipped from between pale lips, making a dull sound as it fell to the ground.

"...Like a million gil." Irvine rasped between sharp breaths once the question fully made it through to him. His body decided to betray him in light of this whole ordeal, slumping forward as his legs gave out, and soon enough Seifer's touch was the only thing holding him up. For a brief moment, Irvine caught the scent of something vaguely familiar as he struggled to lean back out of Seifer's space, and it took him a lot longer than it likely should have to realize that that scent, familiar as it was, was inherently Seifer's. Irvine must simply be remembering it from back at the orphanage. What an odd thing human memories were.

And it was funny how this small sense of familiarity actually helped to calm him down some.

"I'll be fine." He added after a moment, words coming out between rough gasps, not concealing that he didn't feel particularly confident in the amount of truth that statement held. His breath was back to coming quickly now, body actively fighting against the stress and residue adrenaline. "Always been too fucking stubborn to die." Granted, he never suffered a wound quite this severe before, but he helped take down an all powerful sorceress and lived to tell the tale, he would not give in to one little bullet wound, even though he was currently steadily bleeding out.

He grit his teeth against the pain and suddenly felt his back hit the tree behind him as Seifer guided him against it. Irvine closed his eyes, willing the world to stop spinning in time he opened them again. He attempted a deeper breath once more, then forced his eyes to focus, taken aback when what came into focus first was the brightness of Seifer's eyes. He'd never noticed how striking their color was before. Deliriously, Irvine thought of the sea by the lighthouse, of warm sunlight breaking on the water. His gaze wavered.

Damn, just how much blood did he lose?

"Spare a Cura?" He quipped, mostly to snap himself out of this odd place his mind had decided to go, but despite their intent, the words came out chopped and weak. "Unless you feel like carrying me to the next settlement as I keep bleeding out all over your hands."

[visionaryanarchist]

There was something to be said about the fact that Irvine had been able to keep himself upright during the entire procedure, and with next to no sound coming from him to boot. Where the situation less dire, Seifer would have had some spare words, maybe even a teasing to say about that. But as things were, he was much too focused on the extraction and causing as little damage as possible, and when it was all said and done, he was quick to catch the other man from falling over.

At the very least he seemed as stable as one could hope for, for the time being. How long that would last was an entirely different topic, but Seifer pushed the thought aside as he eased the other back against the tree.

"Got something in common there," the blond uttered in response to Irvine claiming he had always been too stubborn to die, and truly, he had. All things considered, he shouldn't even be standing here, and yet. There had always been a certain drive behind him to keep him on his feet, to keep pushing, never backing out. Curious how two people could be so different and so similar in certain aspects.

Keeping a careful eye on Irvine, he dared to give the other a little more space to breathe, without fully letting him go just in case his body refused to remain standing — which, truly, would not be that big of a surprise.

He let the other take a moment to steady himself, brow furrowed as he made sure he didn't pass out on him. Instead, he found the other look at him strangely, eyes almost glazed over, intense in how he stared at him for a long moment before blinking. Hyne, hopefully he didn't end up getting a fever or becoming delirious now. Unprepared as they were, Seifer didn't know if he would be able to help the other if that happened.

"I ain't moving your ass anywhere in this condition," Seifer huffed in an attempt to return the quip, before mentally reaching out to the (still nauseating) junction to Cerberus, reaching for the sparse arsenal of spells he had taken over from Irvine. Thankfully enough, he felt he could tap into a cura spell — although not multiple, as he had hoped to make use of the double or triple ability. Pity Eden wasn't around to help with that.

Regardless, Seifer reached for the spell in question, letting it manifest through the palm of his hand which he had placed over the bullet wound again, the curative slowly seeping into Irvine's skin and the flesh beneath, forcing the body to stitch itself up with the magic's help. He carefully adjusted his hand a couple of times while casting in order to reach all the injured tissue, then watched as the green light slowly dimmed down, then evaporated.

"…not sure if this will do long term. We should probably get out of this forest." And back to Garden? He wasn't exactly sure if that was the safest route to take, considering whoever the attackers were — they clearly had been looking for them, and Garden would be the next safe bet to find them.

Chewing on his lip, Seifer rolled back to his feet, holding a hand out. No time for petty squabbles, they needed to move.

[visionaryanarchist]

continued from here

There it was again, them dancing around what they actually wanted to say, not quite certain whether speaking plain would open them up to embarrassment and ridicule from the other. Seifer already felt stupid for suggesting what he had, his hand remaining close to Squall's chin but briefly, before he let it fall, accompanied by a breathy chuckle.

He really was an idiot sometimes, wasn't he?

"…it's a stupid idea, I know," he said in response, knowing full-well that the other was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. But then again, was that so true? He had seen often enough in these past weeks and months how the other forwent proper sleep or food, his position and duties pressing down on him. And who even knew if that was all, after what he had been through? Being a SeeD did certainly not make one exempt from suffering the consequences of war on a psychological level, he could tell a story or two about that.

Huffing in frustration — with himself, the situation, and how Squall seemingly steered the conversation from his own wants back to him again — it was now Seifer's turn to look away, gaze lingering somewhere outside where the trees swayed in the wind, chewing the inside of his cheek as he privately cussed himself out for even suggesting something ridiculous like he had. Becoming a knight for another guy, how stupid.

"Asked you first," he finally said, allowing a twitch to his mouth to betray the amusement, despite his frustrations, as Squall tried to circumvent answering his question of where he saw him here.

"…but… if you'll have me."

Hyne, this was getting ridiculous.

He had never in his life not said directly what he wanted, and trying to be subtle would never work with the brunet, that much he knew from all the years being around him. Squall needed things spelled out, and even then sometimes he wouldn't be able to figure out what was meant if he was missing context. No surprise then that he seemingly couldn't make heads nor tails of his proposition. How exactly had Seifer arrived at the idea to offer himself up as being the other's knight anyway?

I like having you here.

The words made his head snap back straight and his gaze fixed immediately on the other, surprise clear as day on his features. Somehow, hearing the words from the other's mouth came unexpected, almost impossible even.

"…I'd like to be back home."

@mutepragmatist

[visionaryanarchist]

let's dive into romance traits !    

name: seifer almasy

nickname: asshole, probably.

gender: cis male

romantic orientation: homoromantic / panromantic

sexual orientation: homosexual

preferred pet names: doesn't really have any.

relationship status: single, but has had a lifetime crush on @/mutepragmatist's squall.

opinion on true love:  being the romantic that he is, he definitely has that belief - although he would never really talk about it. It's more a kind of wishful thinking than actually something he can see for himself, usually.

opinion on love at first sight: same as the above. Mostly because it happened to him

how ‘romantic’ are they?: unless he's actually involved with someone, you'd likely be hard pressed to see any of it. he enjoys being his usual, full-of-himself ass to care much for it. But if he falls for someone and senses he has a shot? He's definitely a full on romantic. Be prepared for him to remember all your favorites - food, places, ways to be touched, etc. 

ideal physical traits: while he's overall more flexible about these things, he does enjoy when someone is smaller than him (not necessarily weaker, mind you). for some reason nobody knows he has a thing for brunettes, too. cough.

ideal personality traits: someone who can take his overbearing ego and personality and isn't afraid to go toe to toe with him. someone witty who knows how to challenge him.

unattractive physical traits: frail, untrained / weak

unattractive personality traits: needy in a way that they can't stand on their own feet or take care of themselves by default. 

do they have a type?: yes...in that he wants someone he can spar with frequently. man wants another fighter.

average relationship length: he didn't count. probably around 5-ish max. he usually only entertains short flings.

past relationships?: as said, various flings that had no real meaning or substance and only were there for mutual fun.

favourite canon ship: seifer / squall (almahart) - duh.

favourite non-canon ship:  cloud / seifer, irvine / seifer,  nyx / seifer,  zell / seifer...  probably more that I am forgetting rn

[visionaryanarchist]

will be around later to tackle replies as I finally got my third blond menace set up and my brain will let me focus on something else for once

[ethernalium]

For @urbxnfxck ⛓

[mutepragmatist]

𝖬𝖴𝖳𝖤𝖯𝖱𝖠𝖦𝖬𝖠𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖳 + 𝖵𝖨𝖲𝖨𝖮𝖭𝖠𝖱𝖸𝖠𝖭𝖠𝖱𝖢𝖧𝖨𝖲𝖳 written by frankenstein. written by nihil.

𝖲𝖰𝖴𝖠𝖫𝖫 𝖫𝖤𝖮𝖭𝖧𝖠𝖱𝖳 - ❝ reality isn't so kind. everything doesn't work out the way you want it to. that's why… as long as you don't get your hopes up, you can take anything… you feel less pain. ❞

❝ i love battles. I fear nothing. the way I look at it, as long as you make it out of a battle alive, you're one step closer to fulfilling your dream. ❞ - 𝖲𝖤𝖨𝖥𝖤𝖱 𝖠𝖫𝖬𝖠𝖲𝖸

INDEPENDENT 𝖲𝖰𝖴𝖠𝖫𝖫 𝖫𝖤𝖮𝖭𝖧𝖠𝖱𝖳 & 𝚂𝙴𝙸𝙵𝙴𝚁 𝙰𝙻𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚈 FROM FINAL FANTASY VIII.

[visionaryanarchist]

𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒃 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖?

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐋.

You wear a thousand masks and you claim them all. You say they are all you, all parts of you but some of them you picked up when you needed to be brave, some you picked up when you failed because you were yourself, some of them you picked up because you needed to be stronger for someone smaller, better for someone bigger, useful for someone crueler, and you can't help but desperately scramble for first place, for usefulness, to prove you're worth keeping around, to prove you're the best, to prove you're good enough, valuable, enough. You just want someone to tell you you're enough. You strive for success, to be a role model, to take the lead, to be someone everyone loves, someone who can't fall, someone who can't be hurt the way you were once, the way you're running from even now. Sometimes you just want someone to hold your hand and let you spill all your broken fragments outward but you know you could never let it go. The only thing holding you together some days is the image of perfection and success and security and the worst part is that everyone else needs you to never falter either because you so often are the one holding everyone together too. You can't help but wonder if your emotions are ever your own, if you are just an actor in a life that's not your own, if you were cursed to be a mannequin, a doll, from the moment you were born and placed into a life where you were a child meant to be seen, not heard, to perform, not live, and the jealousy the injustice or the pain is fueled into masks as you take the world by storm.