Final Fantasy Eight Fanfiction

Wed, 19 Mar 2008 11:18:01 GMT

Hey all,

I am a bit of a newbie here, but I have just finished a chapter of a FFVIII fanfic that I hope that you will enjoy. Please comment and don't be afraid to be honest. I am writing chapter 2 at the moment and should have it ready for editing etc soon.

Title: The Trouble with G.F.s
Rating: PG 13

Discription: Life was Idyllic and miracles happened. Not everything stays cosy for long. Odin has been trapped in his sword for too long. He now wants to escape, will he take the whole world with him.

Anyways I hope you enjoy.

Prologue: Rinoa’s Miracle

The Characters and anything pertaining to Final Fantasy VIII are not mine they belong to Square-enix I have just borrowed them for a bit.

“Honey, could you get me a glass of water?”
Rinoa could see that her husband was already in the kitchen and so didn’t feel bad about asking for something while he was there.

“Sure. You want anything else while I’m out here?”
“No, honey, it’s fine”
Squall came into the living room and handed Rinoa the glass.
“Thanks,” she replied before drinking.
“Rinoa?”
“Yes dear?”
“Are you alright, you’ve been shifting in your seat all day. You look like you‘re in pain?”

Rinoa could see the concern on Squall’s face. She had not slept now for about a day and had stayed stretched out on the sofa every so often shifting and making a face.
“Well I am pregnant, you know! I feel so huge that I don’t think I’ll ever be comfortable again, but it’s okay. I’m fine.” Her weak smile did not hide the obvious pain that she was in.
“Okay.” But please let me know if you need something.”

A sudden cry broke the idyll, as Rinoa burst into tears. She looked up to find Squall kneeling beside her, concern etched upon his face, he gently wiped the tears from her face.
“Honey.” Rinoa managed “I think that it’s time.” It was a whisper, but he heard what she said.

The next hour was a complete blur for Squall. It seemed to him that he was working completely on autopilot. The bags for the birth had been packed a few days ago but Squall felt the need to double check that they had everything that they needed several times. Once he was satisfied that all was well he packed the car and went over to his wife. He knelt down beside her, wrapped one arm around her back and pulled her gently from the sofa. As she stood she leaned into his chest and squeezed his arms tightly. Squall figured that it was the pain and held her in his arms until it had passed.

“You alright?” he whispered as he felt her relax a little.
She nodded and together they began to take small steps toward the door. Every so often he would feel her tense up but he knew that it was just the pain and so held her until she was ready to move again.
Once they reached the car Squall helped Rinoa in, attached the belt around her swollen belly and closed the door of the car. He got in to the driver’s side, closed the door behind him and belted up. He looked over to his wife and smiled. He always marvelled at how well she had coped with the entire situation. All the tests in the beginning to see if she could carry the child to term, all the scans to make sure the child was growing well; she took it all in her stride. It was as if all she cared about was the tiny miracle growing inside of her. None of the tests mattered as long as their child was safe.

She smiled back at him and then took his hand and squeezed it gently.
“This is it. He’s coming.” She grinned.
“It certainly looks that way,” he answered, still smiling at her.
He started the ignition and before they knew it they were on their way.
“I always wanted to know why you keep calling the baby a he?” Squall asked in an attempt to distract her from her discomfort.
“Um… well, I just know. Don’t ask how, but I know. I knew he was going to be a boy. I knew the tests were pointless because somehow I knew that he was alright.”
“If you knew that he was alright then why did you let the medical staff put you through all those tests?”
“I don’t know. I guess it was for their peace of mind and for yours. You always looked so concerned. It didn’t bother us, not really.”
“Okay”. And the conversation was over.

Squall was amazed that she would go through so much just so that she knew that he was alright. He had tried not to look too concerned when it came to Rinoa and the baby but it was always so hard he didn’t want to lose them. Even though he never would actually admit to her that he was concerned in any way, she knew he was and always tried her best to make sure he knew that all was well.
“How much longer will it be until we get there, love? I really think our boy wants out!”
“Not long. Forty-five minutes or so. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, just need some drugs. We’re good, just a little tired is all.”

Time went by almost in silence. Conversation wasn’t at the forefront of Rinoa’s mind. Every so often she would squeeze the leather of her seat but never made a noise. Squall saw pain in her eyes. He did not like to see her in this much pain. All he wanted to do was hold her. He felt so helpless, and what annoyed him the most was that there was nothing he could do to help.
Dr Kadowaki was waiting at the entrance of Garden when they arrived.
Squall felt apprehensive which was not like him at all. He got out of the car and went over to Rinoa who looked up weakly at him. She looked so tired. This would be the second night she hadn’t slept, and the exhaustion was beginning to show. Squall opened the door, undid her belt and began to ease her out of the car gently. She clung to him as if he were her only life-line. He wrapped his arm around her back and held her up.

“Can you walk, dear? I can get a chair for you if you need it,” Dr Kadowaki asked. All Rinoa did was nod; she didn’t say anything, just clung to Squall.

Once the chair arrived she was wheeled into the infirmary. Garden medical staffs were fully prepared for the arrival of Rinoa, and had been now for the past few months. It had been al long time since they dealt with a birth and so a midwife had been called in from Deling City for the occasion. The midwife had arrived over a week ago, and was immediately on hand upon her arrival. Both the doctor and midwife helped Rinoa out of her clothes, into a long nightdress and into a bed in the only private room in the infirmary. Once the midwife had had the opportunity to check Rinoa over and make sure she was comfortable, she signalled for Squall to come in to see his wife.

He was expecting was the exhausted woman that he had moments ago helped in to the infirmary. What he was met with was someone completely different. She looked wide awake and was grinning from ear to ear. It was hard to keep the shock from his face and he found himself staring, amazed at the way that she was coping with this.
“Hey, baby!” Rinoa chirped.
She even sounded happy, he thought.
He walked over to her bed and sat on the chair next to it; he instinctively took her hand and wiped some stray hair from her face.
“You alright? I know, stupid question.”

“Yeah, Squall, I feel great! I can’t believe that this stuff is legal.”
“What is?” he asked, confused.
From the corner of his eye he could see something in Rinoa’s free hand, like a mouth piece. She held it up for him to see and then took a large breath from it while squeezing his hand.
“This,” she said. “It’s for the pain but it’s like being on some kind of drug. I don’t know why but I feel better now than I have in days!”

Happy enough to make jokes about it, he thought. She did look better, though. He just sat and watched for a while and then they talked, mainly about the excellent drugs that she was getting for the pain. Every so often the midwife would come back and check on her and eventually the midwife wouldn’t leave at all. During all the interruptions and all the talk of hospital medication she had remained calm and almost content. She had even surprised most of the staff with the way in which she handled the pain. Some time during the four or so hours that she had already been there she had slowly drifted into a light sleep as if her own body was preparing for what was to come. Squall sitting on the chair sitting beside her holding her hand had somehow managed to get some sleep as she did.
Squall was awoken by a scream. He was awake immediately and looked over to where Rinoa lay. She bolted upright in her bed and screamed in pain, squeezing Squall’s hand and almost crushing it. The midwife examined Rinoa. She looked at Squall.
“It’s time,” was all that she said.
The room lost its tranquillity and all Squall could hear was Rinoa shifting in the bed, telling him that it was too painful, that she couldn’t do it. He was not even sure if he should be in the room. Quite frankly he was not sure what he should be doing. He took his cue from her.
She squeezed his hand tighter and tighter.
“Please don’t go” she whispered.
That was all he needed to stay where he was. He didn’t speak. No-one did. He just held her hand and rubbed her back gently.

By midnight, Rinoa was exhausted. She wasn’t sure how long she could continue. The pain just got worse and worse. The midwife had told her that it was nearly over, that it would not be long now. It felt like she had been told that for hours.
Each time she cried in pain Squall grew more and more concerned. Surely there was more he could do than just sit there encouraging her and promising that it would be over soon. He absolutely hated the fact that there was nothing that he could do to really help, and he did not realise that to Rinoa him being there at all was enough. The minutes that ticked by seemed to last forever. It seemed as though time had stopped. He stared at the clock and then back at his wife.
“That’s it, dear,” the midwife said. “One last push!”
Rinoa gave all that she could in that final push. She heard a faint cry as she fell back onto the bed, the pain gone as if it were never there.
Squall leaned over the bed and kissed his wife’s cheek. He looked at her with such love in his eyes.
“We have a son,” he whispered in her ear. “I love you‘

At the same as Zack Leonhart’s first cries were heard, the Fire Cavern next to Balamb Garden froze over.

Addiction.

Sun, 24 Sep 2006 03:24:02 GMT

My name is Carie, obviously. This is the first time I have ever posted in a livejournal community. I am a successful failure as a fic writer, and in general. Um... yeah that's pretty much it. I have about six chapters of this story done, but if it doesn't do too well I won't bother with the rest. That said, enjoy.

Title: Addiction
Author: Carie Valentine
Summary: Rinoa Heartilly, party girl extrodinaire, was living the fast life until it slowed to a crashing halt that landed her in rehab, and in the life of Squall Leonhart, repeat offender.
Rated: M for mild language, drug use, sexual situations and mild violence
Genre: Angst/Drama
Feedback: Good or bad is all good in my book, I am always looking for kind words or someone to tell me where I went wrong.

She was sick and pale looking. The dark circles beneath her dead brown eyes accentuated her gaunt cheeks. Her frail hand traced lines along the bumpy plaster wall as she followed the woman in white down a long, well lit corridor. With each step she took the screams grew louder. The requests were different, but the ideas and vulgarity held the same sentiments.

“Someone please fucking kill me,” screamed one voice.

“You sons of bitches I will fucking slit your throats,” wailed another.

“I just want another fucking hit,” moaned someone else.

The girl was too weak and too strung out to care. It was a weird feeling, she thought, that last hit before being forced into a clinic. It would be hours before her “normal” wore off. Hours before the pain would begin and she would be screaming like those poor suckers. She was strong, she wouldn’t crack like them. She was Rinoa fucking Heartilly, party girl extraordinaire.

--

it was the party of the century anyone who was anyone was there the only light was strobing or flashing or spinning it was hard to see who anyone was it was hard to hear anything over the pulsating sounds of the techno music vaguely she could make out her friend at least she thought it was her friend she handed her something it was pink and in the shape of a heart like a lucky charm or a childens vitamin she asked what it was but couldnt hear the response the girl was older and rinoa wanted to impress her so took it down without a care

it didnt take long for the room to spin around and everything begin to feel good rinoa smiled and rubbed her body along the closest person to her she didnt care who it was as long as she could touch them the music changed into something funny and rinoa let out a childish laugh finally enjoying herself whatever that shit was she wanted more she never wanted this feeling to stop it made the pain stop and thats all she wanted

the wall felt rough against her back she laughed as the hands rubbed over her entire body the lips rolled over her leaving their trail of hot alcohol stained saliva all over her she could barely utter words at the feeling it was the greatest feeling in the world she thought finally she was happy again and fuck the person to come between them

--

Rinoa woke up screaming in pain. Trying to thrash her arms she realized she was restrained.

“Make it stop,” she screamed looking at the woman in the corner watching her. The pain wracked her body from head to toe. God she needed it. She needed to feel the tingle flow through her system, to even her out. Amidst her screams she began to vomit. The woman in white stood immediately and turned Rinoa onto her side. Despite being covered in her own spit up, Rinoa began trashing again tossing the nurse to the floor.

“Get off me,” she screamed, remnants of whatever her last meal was dripping down her face. “Don’t fucking touch me. Let me out of these fucking things,” she demanded pulling on the straps around her wrists. The woman stood up and went to the door asking for help.

A tall blond man, also in white entered the room and held Rinoa down.

“Get off me,” Rinoa shrieked struggling against the hard body above her. The woman nurse took a wet sponge to the young addict, cleaning her off.

“Hold her arms, we need to get her a new gown,” the woman instructed to the man. The man nodded and stood above her now, holding her down by the elbows. Rinoa continued to thrash and curse against the nurses.

Slowly, the blonde woman nurse unlocked the left restraint and quickly removed the sleeve of the gown. Then slipped on the beginnings of the new one and replacing the restraint. As the woman began to unhook the other side, Rinoa bit down hard into the man’s arm, causing him to cry out in pain.

“You bitch,” he cried. With his elbow the man swung hard, connecting with Rinoa’s head, knocking her out.

--

she couldnt believe the general was dumb enough to leave her alone in the house while he was out on business well in her own defense he said nothing about not having a party did he really believe she was as well behaved as she seemed no one was that stupid that blind old fool didnt even lock the liquor cabinet she was only sixteen and could hold her liquor quite well

she couldnt believe half of the senior class had shown up to her party then again she was famous and anyone wanted to be seen with her

the room was filled with smoke but quiet except for a few quiet snorting sounds she stumbled in curiously half a dozen seniors sat around the coffee table covered in lines of white powder, empty bags and razors the head cheerleader handed her a rolled up paper gil comon rinoa join us rinoa sat next to the girl and watched her then copied her brain went numb she liked it much more than the ecstasy

the mattress caved under their weight he was much larger than her but was very skilled with his actions she didnt say no she couldnt and didnt want to the cold feel of metal against her wrists was making her hot she didnt know his name but that was unimportant just as long as he kept doing that thing with his hands he sucked on her breast like a starving infant god did the drugs make this feel so much better

--

Rinoa woke up in a new room. Her head still throbbed, and so did her left eye. The moon shone brightly through the barred window revealing the furnishings. She sat up and realized she was no longer restrained to the bed. Slowly, the girl got out of the bed and shuffled around the room and found the bathroom. She let out a slight hiss as the florissant light bore down on her. The reflection startled her. She was paler than before and now wore a large welt around her eye. Perhaps it was the black eye that made her look paler or her pale skin that made the bruise look that bad.

“Oh Miss Heartilly, you’re awake,” said someone from behind, causing Rinoa to jump out of her skin. The blonde nurse stood there with her suit case in hand.

“What happened?” Rinoa asked, touching her raw eye.

“Oh, you hit yourself when you were in detox. Knocked yourself out good. How do you feel?”

“Okay, I guess,” Rinoa replied, spying her suitcase. The woman smiled, noticing the shorter girl looking intently at the suitcase in her hand. The nurse walked to the bed and placed it down.

“Well here are your clothes. I know you probably wanna get out of that hospital gown.”

Rinoa walked over and placed her hand on the pink case and ran her hand along the seam. Then her eyes lit up and began to itch her arm. The nurse noticed the look, now would be a good time to leave.

“Well, I-I’m off now,” the nurse said backing toward the door. “I will see you in the morning Miss Heartilly.”

As soon as the woman left, Rinoa tore open the case and peeled back the lining. Nothing. Rinoa’s eyes opened wider. No, no they couldn’t have. She began pulling everything out of the case in a frenzy. She stopped in realization, they took her fucking stash.

“You son of a bitch,” Rinoa screeched throwing the case across the room, contents spilling everywhere. Rinoa ran to the door and turned the handle. Locked. Angrily, Rinoa began punching the door.

“I’ll fucking kill you, you son of a bitch. That was my stash you fuckers. I swear to God I will kill you. Give them back,” she screamed pounding on the door. She walked farther into the room picking up a chair and throwing it with all her might against the door.

Two men dressing white rushed into the room, tackling Rinoa to the floor. She fought back continuing to scream and curse. Finally they got her onto the bed and put the restraints back on her.

“You can’t do this to me,” she yelled. “Do you know who I am? My father is the fucking general of the fucking Galbadian army. I’ll fucking have you all killed.” One of the men chuckled.

“Shut up, you’re disrupting the others, ya know?” The men left, leaving Rinoa alone in the dark, still struggling against the binds on her wrists.

The pain was more intense now. She could feel the bruises on her body form from where the orderlies attacked her. A wave of dizziness hit her again, pain flowing within her. It took what was ever left of her strength not to scream out as her body hungered for more drugs.

--

Days passed before Rinoa was allowed to leave her room and venture out for fresh air. She shuffled slowly around the corridors of the courtyard. She hissed loudly as the sun hit her body. Suddenly, a familiar smell wafted passed her. She momentarily revalued in the fragrance before moving to find the source. A smile crossed her lips and she spotted a man dressed in black seated on a bench. Thick white smoke rose from his hung head. Casually, she approached the figure and sat softly on the other side of the bench.

“Hey,” she called to the man, who didn’t reply or even move. “Can I bum one off you?” she asked louder than she spoke before. The man sat silently a moment before turning to look at her. She could see his stormy blue eyes widen behind the strands of brown hair hanging in his face.

Without a word, the man reached into his coat pocket and produced a cigarette packet and tossed it to her. Greedily she ripped open the packet and tore out a cigarette before shoving it in her mouth. She felt around herself looking for something, but did not find it. Before she could ask, she heard the sounds of a metal clank and then a soft click. She pulled the cigarette out of her mouth with her right fore and middle finger as she looked up to see the man holding a lighter for her. A smile of gratitude light up her face as she placed the cigarette back into her mouth and leaned in to light it.

“Thanks,” Rinoa said after taking a long drag. The man merely shrugged in reply. “I’m Rinoa, by the way.”

“I know who you are,” he said stoically, not bothering to look up at her. From the corner of his eye he could see her look at him confused. “Your father is the fucking general of the fucking Galbadian army.”
Rinoa let out a low chuckle before taking another drag. “Yeah that’s me.”

“You also threatened to kill the nurses and that’s cool by me,” he said turning to face her. “I’m Squall.”

“Nice to meet you, Squall,” Rinoa said taking in Squall’s appearance.

“Perhaps rehab isn’t all bad,” she thought.

Seifer x Selphie - Gummybears

Sat, 03 Jun 2006 02:39:14 GMT

I wrote this quite a while ago. It's been on Fanfiction.net for ages, but a friend recommended I spread it around LiveJournal. And here I am.

Title: Gummybears
Pairing: Seifer x Selphie
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Seifer Almasy had never payed much attention to the Little Messenger Girl, but when a short fight lands him working with her, he learns there's much more to her than meets the eye. Once he's willing to fight to his death for her, he just might have to...

Chapter 1: Help Wanted

Short Introduction and Links to some fan fics

Sat, 31 Dec 2005 02:24:52 GMT

Well, hello there everyone. ^^ Let me introduce myself, since I haven't
yet. My name is Stasia and I'm an 18-year-old fan fiction writer. I
write for the Inuyasha fandom but I also write for Final Fantasy VIII -
see, there is a method to my madness. I thought maybe I would share the
links to my FF8 fan fics (which are more like one-shots, really, but in
collections), and hope that anyone here might like to take a peek.

While I have the FF8 fics on deviantART, I'm just going to post the FanFiction.net link and the MediaMiner.org link.

Note: My fan fics are
Squall/Rinoa, so if you don't like the pairing, I think it's pretty
safe to say you're probably not going to like the fics themselves. Fair
warning. ^^

Feathers in the Meadow [written for my claim at 30_kisses]

~Title: I Promise

Genre: Romance/End-of-Game

Rating: PG

Summary: Squall had promised to meet her in the meadow, but Rinoa couldn't find him.

Link: FF.net|MM.org

~Title: His Eyes

Genre: Romance/Introspective

Rating: PG

Summary: The eyes are the window to the soul...

Link: FF.net|MM.org

~Title: Simplicity

Genre: Romance/Post-Game

Rating: PG

Summary: Sometimes the meaningful things are just that simple.

Link: FF.net|MM.org

~Title: Meanings

Genre: Romance/slight Humor/Post-Game

Rating: PG

Summary: Sometimes, everything can be said without ever saying a word.

Link: FF.net|MM.org

~Title: Faith

Genre: Romance/Post-Game

Rating: PG

Summary: Rinoa always said Squall needed a little bit of faith.

Link: FF.net|MM.org

-

Each Step [written for my claim at 52_flavours]

~Title: Remembering Rebirth

Genre: Introspective/slight Romantic undertone

Rating: PG-13

Summary: At one time or another, there is a rebirth - a respite for even the darkest of creatures.

Link: FF.net|MM.org

~Title: Saving Grace

Genre: Romance/Introspective

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Sometimes when you're about to surrender, your saving grace comes from the most unexpected of places.

Link: FF.net|MM.org

-

And this poem is the first thing I ever wrote for FF8. ^.^

Title: My Knight

Genre: Romance

Rating: G

Summary: A poem from Rinoa's POV of her relationship with Squall - of young, undying love: a sorceress to her knight.

Link: FF.net|MM.org

Cross-posted to:

ff_eight

_final_fantasy_

squallxrinoa

ff8_fanfics

Do You Have A Little Time

Wed, 21 Dec 2005 02:13:58 GMT

Title: Do You Have A Little Time
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII
Characters: Squall, Rinoa
Word Count: 1746
Rating: PG13 - cursing
Summary: It's hard to let go of lessons learnt over thirteen years. Songfic to Dido's 'Do You Have A Little Time'.
Feedback: Is love. Please give to the needy.

( Fake cut to my writing journal. . . )

[Fanfic] Dreams of Fighting

Sun, 04 Sep 2005 20:48:22 GMT

Title: Dreams of Fighting
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: General/angst
Character: Quistis
Rating: G
Wordcount: 378
Notes: Brief introspective piece. No pairings.
( "There are papers on the desk before her, and she dreams of fighting." )

First-time poster...

Sun, 07 Aug 2005 04:37:37 GMT

Title: Moment
Characters: Squall and Rinoa
Rating: PG, just to be on the safe side
Summary: A moment amidst the flight from the D-District Prison, on the rails back towards Garden. The game leaves so much unaddressed - among other things, the effect the end of Disc I and the events at the D-District had on Squall's already less-than-healthy emotional state - that I can't help but try to fill in some of the blanks.

He couldn't get warm.

In the engine of the Galbadian supply train they'd hijacked, the heat was stifling, the air heavy and hard to breathe. But even wrapped in black leather that soaked in the scorching rays of the desert sun, Squall couldn't seem to get warm. The cold had seeped into his bones, and in spite of everything, it lingered. He found himself leaning against the metal housing of the engine's controls, lulled by the rumble of the train and the hypnotic onrushing of the tracks ahead into a numb half-trance, thoughts sliding out of his head and leaving him feeling strangely vacant.

He didn't realize Rinoa had slipped in and was standing near his elbow until she spoke.

"Squall?" The sound of her voice brought him out of it with a jolt, and he looked toward her, trying to make his eyes bring her face into focus. She was frowning, her brow furrowing into a look of concern, and he wondered vaguely if there were marks on his face or if he just looked like hell.

It took him a moment to realize that Zell wasn't with her, and the knot that had been tied in his gut tightened subtly.

Finding words took effort, even more than usual. "Trouble?" Squall asked at length, his voice rattling unpleasantly in his throat.

Rinoa shook her head. "Not really. There was a soldier who tried to chase after us, but..." Her frown faded, and for a moment she almost looked like she might smile. "He was on foot."

Squall let out a breath he hadn't realized he was he was holding. It came out in a quiet sigh. He'd hoped, dimly, to get away clean - to have the train well away before the soldiers at the depot realized what was happening. But there was nothing anyone could do about it now. "Where's Zell?" he wondered, and winced inwardly at the sound of his own voice. Flat. Dull. Like it didn't matter to him one way or the other.

"I threw him off the back of the train."

It was such a ludicrous statement that Squall couldn't even manage surprise. He just stared at her, dumbly, until at last the corner of her mouth quirked up in a sheepish little half-grin. "Asleep," she told him. "He passed out on some cargo as soon as we got clear of the station." She paused, glancing briefly back towards the rest of the train, and her expression sobered. "I cast some cures on him. He didn't look so good."

Zell hadn't looked good. Squall had seen that for himself, during their drive across the desert, and before that as they'd scrambled up and down the endless levels of the Galbadian prison. Normally Zell was still only when he was unconscious and quiet only a little more often, and the way he'd slumped into the seat of the van - his uncharacteristic silence, during the escape and after - had said more about the beating he'd taken than words could. But there hadn't been time for more than stopgap healing for anyone, not then. And after, well... Squall hadn't thought of it.

Hadn't thought of much of anything except getting back to Garden. It surprised him to realize he felt grateful - grateful and faintly relieved that Rinoa had thought to take care of his teammate, that somewhere along the way she'd stopped looking to him for instructions and begun simply stepping in where she saw a need.

He felt, somehow, that he ought to try to tell her something, but the words eluded him. "...Thanks," he murmured instead, and she quirked another lopsided little smile.

Squall turned his eyes back to the tracks ahead, to watch as the engine ate up the miles. Green was encroaching onto the browns and golds of the landscape as the desert began to give way to plains. Somewhere beyond lay forests, and beyond that, the sea, and Balamb, and Garden. Home.

Rinoa's voice beside him sounded like it was coming from a long way off. "Where are we going?"

He didn't bother mustering the energy for speech, and wasn't sure why she'd even asked.

The silence voiced his thoughts for him, and when Rinoa spoke again, her words were more hesitant. A little embarrassed. "I mean, I know we're going to Balamb Garden. But - how? Are we going to Dollet? Or..." At the corner of his vision he could see her shifting, scuffing a boot uncomfortably against the metal floor as her voice trailed off.

Squall bit back the impulse to tell her he didn't know. It would have been the more honest answer. "We're headed for Timber," he said brusquely.

For a while, the only response was silence, filled by the persistent grinding rattle of the train. "...Is that a good idea?" Rinoa ventured at last. "They were shutting the station down when we left. There'll be soldiers all over the place. Won't they be looking for us?"

Suddenly, desperately, Squall wanted to shout at her. Of course the Galbadians would be looking for them. They'd been lucky to get as far as they had; he was running on guesswork, clinging to one single, all-imperative thought: get back to Garden. Now. Beyond that, he could only grasp at straws.

But even if he'd had the energy to shout, there wouldn't have been any point in it. What good would it do her to know that he'd aimed for Timber instead of Dollet because it was the quicker route, too focused on getting home to remember that they'd had to flee the city only days before? He didn't look at her, just kept his eyes fixed straight ahead, watching the horizon as they thundered inevitably along the tracks.

"Probably." To his own ears, his voice sounded defeated. "But we don't have much of a choice. We'll stop outside the city and walk in. If the trains aren't running..."

If the trains weren't running, Squall thought dimly, he didn't know if he could force himself to keep going. But what he said was, "We'll head north to Dollet."

On foot it would take days. They'd never make it in time.

"Squall..." Rinoa's soft voice intruded upon the grim turn his thoughts had taken. Squall gritted his teeth, dreading her next question. Just a little more, he knew, and his fraying nerves would snap, and then he really would shout at her.

But all she said, in unexpectedly gentle tones, was, "You don't look so good either. Maybe you should get some rest."

Rest... Squall wasn't sure when he'd rested last, aside from a few stolen moments wedged into this corner or leaning against that wall, struggling to catch his breath before the next wave hit. Not since they'd escaped the Galbadian prison. Not since their fruitless battle with the sorceress on the streets of Deling City. Not, he finally decided, since the night he and Irvine and Selphie had camped at the mouth of the nameless king's tomb. Yesterday? The day before?

It felt like weeks ago.

"Someone has to keep an eye on the train," he said dully.

"I can do that," Rinoa said. Squall looked over at her, and something of his surprise and vague doubt must have surfaced in his face, because she grinned. "The guys in the Forest Owls taught me. It's not hard, anyway. You just keep an eye on your speed and make sure you don't run into anything on the tracks."

Squall fumbled for some kind of reaction, and could find nothing but dim surprise. "...oh," he said eventually, the word coming out quiet and vague.

She lifted a hand towards him, as though to guide him away from the controls, but then seemed to think better of it. "Come on," she said. "There's a bunch of stuff back there you can lie down on. I mean, it's not the presidential suite or anything, but..." Her voice petered out, her cheeks turning faintly pink with embarrassment he didn't quite understand.

It took an effort of will for him to push himself away from the console. "If anything happens--" he began, but Rinoa cut him off.

"I'll come get you," she promised. "Don't worry, Squall. Everything's going to be okay."

Somewhere underneath the fatigue, Squall wished he could believe her.

It was harder than he liked to admit to move away from the support of the console, to take a few stiff, plodding steps toward the back of the engine. When he paused to look back at Rinoa, she was already moving to take his place at the controls, with no sign of hesitation. "If you get tired," he said, "get Zell to take over."

"Okay," came her easy reply, and he turned away again. The sound of his name stopped him within arm's reach of the door to the next car. "Squall."

By the time he'd turned back again, with a weary 'what now?' on his lips, magic was shimmering in the air around her. A gesture of her hand and a murmured "Cura," was all it took for a swell of blue-green energy to break around him, with a rush of warmth through his body as injuries he'd halfway forgotten about healed themselves away. He'd pushed the pain so far back in his mind that he'd barely even been aware of it except as a sort of omnipresent ache, and the sudden relief, the easing of the chill he hadn't been able to shake since he'd first regained consciousness in his tiny capsule of a cell, nearly brought him to his knees.

When his eyes focused on Rinoa's face again, she was smiling.

"Go on." She urged him out of the engine with a shooing motion of one hand. "Sleep. I'll be fine."

There was nothing Squall could think to say to her, so in the end, after a long, silent, vaguely baffled hesitation, he simply did as he was told.

Sat, 21 May 2005 08:46:32 GMT

morbidevening and I felt like co-writing something and well, here's the result.
SeiferxSquall, slight sap, slight angst, language, explicit sexual content (this covers your ass and mine) and possible OOC
Disclaimer: All characters and locations belong to the demigods at Square Enix and Sony.

The Stockholm Syndrome

Feedback is much appreciated. :)

Tue, 17 May 2005 18:22:15 GMT

Hey everyone! I just randomly found this community under my other livejournal account, and thought it'd be nice to start up a writing livejournal account/join this community and share my fan fiction!

So, I've been on ff.net for a while, and you may or may not have read some of my stuff...anyway, here's the link to my work!

http://www.fanfiction.net/~platinumangel1

Hope to actually get some more posted, and get some writing posted in my journal :-), anyway, thanks!

Sat, 30 Apr 2005 13:03:39 GMT

It’s me again. :O
LagunaxSquall
Written for fated_children, for the themes Wings, Storm, "I'm not laughing", Star gazing and Intertwined.
Warnings: AU, sap, implied incest (if you squint in the right direction) and exploitation of my wing fetish
Disclaimer: All characters and locations belong to the demigods at Square Enix and Sony

He’d always been different. When other children would laugh and play, scream and shout, he’d be sitting at the sidelines, silently watching, sullen and introverted. He never once smiled, preferring to go unnoticed, to be the boy everyone would forget.
Life was easier when no one paid attention to him, because if they did, it was only to taunt him, to tease him about being so girly, so much smaller. They’d shove him, laughing in loud, piercing voices about his strange silky hair, his odd, storm clouded eyes and, most of all, about the fact that he didn’t have a father.
He lived with his mother until he was seven and she passed away. He was never quite free of the suspicion that the townspeople had killed her for being an unmarried, heathen tramp, as they’d always called her when they thought the boy and his mother couldn’t hear them. After her death, when no family wanted to take him in, he became a ward of the town, forced to live off scraps and pity that did his fragile body no good. But he survived, remembering all the fairy tales his mother had once told him, of princes and fair maidens, of dragons and heroes and, his all time favourite, the immortal butterfly warriors, the winged champions that put his imagination on fire. He lived and never gave up, thinking of running away and imagining himself a better world.
On his sixteenth birthday, the town all but kicked him out, declaring him an adult and subtly threatening him, saying that he wouldn’t live for much longer if he didn’t leave right away. So leave he did, with an empty stomach and owning no more than the threadbare clothes on his back. He was, in his own way, happy then, learning to survive all over again, growing stronger as he was forced to fight off other hungry animals and, once in a while, earning some money if he could find the odd job in a town where the people didn’t mind his unusual appearance.

He trekked through the country like that and then through the next, seeing more of the world than he’d ever thought possible. It was, however, not until the day of his eighteenth birthday that his life changed again.

He’d just finished a job in the small town of Balamb, unloading crates and packages from the ships in the harbour there and was now on his way again, walking through a lush field and enjoying the meagre warmth the early spring sun provided. Though he didn’t show it, his step was lighter than usual and as he travelled on, he thought it would be a good day.
He changed his mind not much later that day, when he saw clouds, heavy with rain, making their way towards him and the only possible shelter for the oncoming storm was a small forest on the horizon, still at least half a day’s walk away.
It requires no explanation that he was soaked by the time he reached the first trees and got out of the worst of the downpour.
He made his way a little further into the forest and sat down against the rough bark of an old, tall tree. He took off his simple white shirt, the day still warm enough to permit him that, and wrung it out, draping it over a nearby low branch to let it dry. He stretched then, almost groaning at the burn, from walking and working, in his arms and legs, and shook the water out of his hair, small crystalline droplets flying in every possible direction. For a moment, he thought he heard a small laugh come from somewhere above him, but he dismissed it easily, assuming that it was simply an animal seeking shelter in much the same way he was. He ran a hand through his hair, making an even bigger mess out of it and wrung the water out of his pants best as he could without having to take them off. Again, he heard that soft laugh and this time, he did look up, curious and trying to determine where it was coming from.
He wasn’t sure exactly what he saw up in the tree above him, it looked like a young man, one maybe a bit older then he was himself, but there was something different about him, something not entirely…right. Bright, aqua eyes stared back at him, their corners slightly crinkled by the broad grin that threatened to take over the rest of the youthful face.
“I’m not laughing at you, really, it’s just, your hair…”
He blinked at that and, eye contact now broken, reached up for his hair, smoothing out the odd clumps that were sticking out in all the wrong directions. He looked up again, then, and noticed that, above the man in the tree, the air seemed to be a clear blue, but wherever else he looked up through the trees, the sky was still grey and rain was still steadily falling around him. It was then that this blue piece of sky moved and he saw that it wasn’t the sky at all, but wings, large, blue wings, of the same shade of aqua as those twinkling eyes. He gasped for breath, blinking again and rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his hands.
“You, you’re…”
That same grin again, bright and eager, like a child given a piece of candy.
“Laguna’s the name.”

“So you’re from Winhill?’ Laguna asked, munching on the last of the dinner he’d shared with Squall. “I’ve been there once, but that was years ago. Met a lovely lady there, a very special woman. I would have stayed, I think, but the other people didn’t like me much because I was different.”
He looked up at Squall then, slowly looking him over. “You know, you kinda look like her…” He trailed off and shook his head. “But that’s probably just my imagination running away with me.”
Squall raised an eyebrow at that, but dropped the remark without paying much attention to it; letting it wash over him like he had the rest of the elaborate stories Laguna had been telling all afternoon and night. Instead, he preferred to pay attention to the man himself, feeling strangely attracted to those merry eyes and at times wanting to reach out and touch those occasionally twitching wings, imagining them to be like silk under his fingers. He’d been attracted to people before, both men and women alike, and he had his share of experience, limited to quick romps in darkened rooms as it was, but he’d never felt quite such a strong pull toward anyone.
It wasn’t until he became aware of he fact that Laguna had gone quiet that Squall noticed he was looking back at him, eyes still twinkling, but with something more, something that made Squall want to shiver for other reasons than the now cool air.
Laguna got to his knees without as much as a whisper and crawled around the small fire that separated them, reaching out and brushing his fingers over Squall’s cheek, tucking a few stray hairs behind his ear. It didn’t feel like a shock or sudden fireworks, but Squall sighed all the same, feeling just a little shaky and nestling his cheek in the palm of Laguna’s hand.
They sat like that for the span of a instant, one too shy to respond in kind to the gentle touch and the other hesitant after making the first move, until Laguna finally broke the moment, and the silence surrounding them, in a quiet voice.
“Do you want to see the stars?”
It took Squall a moment to understand what Laguna meant, but when strong arms wrapped around him, pulling him to his feet, and strong wings, so much stronger than they appeared to be, directed them upward, realization came quickly.

Getting used to being virtually weightless took some time and Squall cautiously wrapped his arms around Laguna’s neck, trying hard to avoid looking at the ground as it disappeared beneath them and keeping still, worried about hitting any of the branches they passed. He breathed a sigh of relief when they passed the canopy of the forest and exited into the night, feeling secure enough in Laguna’s arms to forget worrying about falling or thinking about how high they were and focus on the sky above them, dark blue velvet adorned with shining stars, that seemed to sparkle and glitter only for them.
It was only after a while, when Squall finally managed to tear his eyes away from the sky, that he noticed that Laguna was staring at him again, much like he had before, and he couldn’t help but meet his eyes, gazing back at him, lost in those soulful eyes, that bright smile and the steady beat of his wings. Squall didn’t even realize they were kissing until they pulled apart, looking slightly flushed, but now both smiling.

It was the early morning, weak light filtered through the trees, dew was gathering everywhere around them, the world was only just starting to wake up and Squall was cold, dressed in no more than his pants and trying to steal his narrow blanket back from Laguna who had filched it at some time during their sleep. He sighed softly when he didn’t manage it, Laguna’s clutching hold too strong for his sleep fogged mind and settled for curling up against Laguna’s chest, their legs intertwined and their shared warmth more than enough to keep him going, for no matter how long.

Ola, new person alert ;p

Thu, 07 Apr 2005 12:39:55 GMT

I feel as if I'm posting this thing all over the place ^^;
SeiferxSquall
Set during time compression, Seifer and Squall have a moment to themselves.
All characters and locations belong to the demigods at Square Enix and Sony

An endless barren wasteland, a grey sky not made of clouds and an atmosphere reeking of magic so thick you could almost touch it. Never had he thought time compression would be anything like this, a place that felt so inherently wrong, a place where he felt so entirely alone, isolated, abandoned….
He wandered on for what felt like hours, his footsteps not once making a sound on the even, rocky ground and the light around him ever growing gloomier.
He marched on and on, mood sinking further with every step, until he reached the end of wherever he was and sat down there, left with just enough dignity to refrain from collapsing.
It was hopeless, he’d never felt this lost in his entire life and as he stared deeper into the swirling mass encompassing the strangely floating island he was on, he could almost feel despair digging its claws into him, eating away at any hope he might still possess.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, huddling in his jacket, curling up much like a child would, when, suddenly, a hand touched his shoulder and all the anguish he felt left him in a dizzying rush. He turned, quickly and trying to get to his feet at the same time, but a second hand took place on his other shoulder as if it simply belonged there and pushed him down in his original position. He didn’t struggle, knowing only one person who would dare to treat him like that, and waited patiently until he felt long, strong legs wrap around him and the hands moved from his shoulders to rest on his stomach.

They sat like that for ages; the only sound the occasional whisper of their clothes as they shifted, caresses light and tender, the barely there brush of the tip of a finger across a cheek, a shoulder pressing just a bit into a warm chest….
Eventually, not knowing how much time had passed by then, Squall spoke up.
“Come back with me.”
No immediate response came to his plea, disguised as an innocent request, and they sat in the same position for some time longer, their touches growing more urgent and needy as, deep inside, they felt it was almost time to move on.
“I can’t.”
Seifer’s voice was rough around the edges, betraying the warring emotions he wouldn’t show, nor voice. Torn between the desire to go back, to go home, but to find himself shunned and the knowledge that, if he stayed a little longer, things would be easier, but he’d have to miss Squall for so much longer.
In the end, they got back up, turning to face each other, their eyes meeting across a distance that was at once non-existent and the greatest they’d ever had to cross.
“You’re s-“
He’d wanted to ask one more time, wishing so badly that this was easier, that things always worked out in the end, like a fairytale, but the tip of Seifer’s index finger came to rest on top of his lips, shushing him as the blond shook his head, the look in his eyes stating clearly that if Squall asked one more time, he wouldn’t be able to resist.
They stood like that a while longer, until the quieting finger moved and Seifer leaned closer, kissing Squall not with the gentlest, merest brush of lips, but with a desperation that bordered on raw need, lust and something so much more precious, all focused into that simple touch of lips to lips and the brush of tongues.
Time passed again and neither knew just how long they held each other close enough to feel the other’s heartbeat, but, in the end, Seifer let go and took a step back, smiling vaguely and mouthing a goodbye at Squall, not even trusting his own voice as he turned and walked away into the ominous darkness.

He fell to his knees now, still resisting the urge to let even a single tear roll down his cheeks and sat in the same space for hours on end, each second feeling like an eternity, until a white feather drifted down in front of him, appearing from out of nowhere.

Wed, 16 Mar 2005 09:01:40 GMT

Series: Lullaby Girls

Title: “The Mission”

Author: Treesh Aradia

Disclaimer: wish they did belong to me…. but alas…they belong to square…

Summary: This story involves everyone. This is the revised version. Read and Review…pls!

Dedicated to: The greatest Beta Reader Any writer can ever have…GYRE!!!! J and my pal BC

Onto fic!

http://members.tripod.com/slayertreesh/id128.htm

Blog Crews

Fri, 11 Mar 2005 02:16:35 GMT

Hope this is okay to post here. If not, feel free to delete it.

I've decided to do some blog crews, and I've started three of them. FFVII, FFVIII, and FFX(2). If anyone is intrested in joining, click here.

Hi I'm new

Sat, 29 Jan 2005 23:08:15 GMT

Well I'm new to the community and to writing fanfic. This is my first one and may be my last. Please tell me what you think.

Title: Quisti's Desire
Summary: Its after the battle against the sorceress and everything is getting back to normal but Quistis is finding things hard with her none existant love life until someone seems interested...
(sorry for any typo's)

With the great battle between SeeD and Sorceress Ultimecia over, ordinary life seemed to be everyone’s main priority. Headmaster Cid had ordered that Balamb Garden post-pone its new role to travel around the world teaching students to become SeeD, and to anchor itself to Balamb Port for a few 'recovery' months. During these months, no classes were to be attended and the students were allowed their freedom.
SeeD however remained on duty, even thought the war was over SeeD were still needed all around the world. Their main priority was to help the cities that had been affected badly, Balamb Garden itself had been restored to its former glory and with the help of Galbadia Garden they had repaired the damage caused at Fisherman's Horizon. The students that were at Tribia Garden had been transferred to Galbadia and Balamb Garden until it was fully restored.
Everybody had changed since the war, Headmaster Cid and Edea were now back together and enjoying the high points of being married and they now have a child on the way. Edea says it is a boy and he was going to be SeeD gunblader just like his 'uncle' Squall.
Zell was even hungrier than before and found that the canteen had a never ending supply of hot-dogs and Ma Dincht was sending him cooked food over at ever possible moment. He had calmed his temper down and it now took two insults before he was at your throat, and he had asked Jenny, the girl with the pigtails, out on a date a few weeks before and was now involved in a steady relationship.
Squall however had not lost his apathetic outlook on life but had gotten into a new band that Siefer, under the direction of Quistis, had introduced him to. He was still together with Rinoa, their relationship was long distance while she patched things up with her father and still managed the Forest Owls. The Forest Owls however had now progressed and become a government that most of Timber was a part of. Zone and Watts were still helping to keep Timber liberated with Rinoa.
Irvine was still the ladies man but was ready for something serious, however he was finding it hard to find anyone that would be willing to start a relationship due to his track record. He had dated Selphie but after his behavior at the party she dropped him and attached herself to a Trepie.
Through the Trepie she had been initiated into the group and had something to offer them in return. Not only did they still worship Quistis but they were also the proud owners of the Sir Laguna foundation.
The Disciplinary Committee was still a dominating factor around Garden, they had however been employed by SeeD as extra forces on certain missions. This had happened because Quistis had become aware that Siefer would never pass the SeeD exam no matter how many times he took it, and his Sorceresses Knight phase meant that it would be awkward having a SeeD member that passionately hunted down his fellow comrades. In this case after Xu and Quistis had talked to Headmaster Cid; Siefer, Raijin and Fujin were hired.
Siefer and Squall were patching things up slowly but surely, and Doctor Kawadaski was finding herself patching them up regular after some, 'intensive training' that took place after a disagreement.
This just leaves Quistis. With much begging and pleading from the SeeD members and a petition from the Trepies, Quistis agreed to becoming an instructor again, the only problem she had was that she missed the SeeD missions and sharing the victory of battle with her closest friends.

Quistis was finding the recovery months a strain upon her mentality and a strain upon her heart. Being an instructor again meant teaching hordes of students but as classes were cancelled she had lots of time on her hands. During this time she had visited the training area and found the monsters slightly boring considering she had helped defeat Sorceress Ultimecia.
The library was lacking anything of interest; nothing she read could hold her attention for long. She had become interested in tennis, but after a week she went to volleyball, after a few sports she decided that it was too much of an effort. Now she just wandered around Garden and around the cities.
Seeing the students from Garden paired up showed her just how alone she was in the world. Everybody seemed to have someone that they shared their life with, even the older end of the population had someone, Quistis had seen them sitting together on a bench in Timber once while she was out on an errand.
They filled the cafeteria at lunch. They filled Doctor Kawadaski’s room and newly built G.U Clinic. They walked up and down the corridors of Garden, giggling as they headed towards the dorms. They filled the streets of Balamb town like rats would fill a rubbish heap – everywhere was infested, infected with love...and other things.
Yet no matter how much she ranted to Xu about it all and no matter how hard she tried t get away from the mayhem, deep down she wished that she were a part of it all. All she wanted was to feel loved, to feel safe in someone’s arms, and to share moonlit kisses in the secret area.
She thought that she had found someone to give her this many months ago, but it seemed that he wasn’t the one. He had found his true sole mate.
“Everyone seems to be with someone,” she thought out loud as she sat in the cafeteria with her first cup of coffee of the day.
“Not everyone Quisty” Irvine interjected, “may I?” without waiting for a reply he grabbed the chair, spinning it around and straggled his legs over it. He rested his head on his folded arms and looked at Quistis.
“Why are you glum my dearest instructor?”
“What makes you say that?” she took a sip of her colding coffee, avoiding Irvine’s eyes. Eyes tell truths only the heart knows.
“Come on Quisty!” Irvine chided, “I see you every morning watching the sunrise on your own. You watch the students loll about as couples during the day and then you watch the sun set over the world, also on your own”
“Sunrises and sunsets are very beautiful to watch Irvine...you should try them” said the instructor in a defensive manner
“And so are you...” with that Irvine stood up, lifted his hat as farewell and shuffled out of the cafeteria.
Quistis felt strange. Something in her stomach was tickling, like a thousand tiny butterflies flying around, and at that moment a blue butterfly flew through the open window. It flew past Quistis and followed Irvine through the doors.

A few days past like nothing had happened. Students were still together, some with different people but no one was alone. SeeD had been on a mission and had come back triumphant.
Quistis watched the sunrises and sunsets as she always did. But every time she witnessed their beauty she had tears in her eyes, her mind was filled with conflicting thoughts and she was unable to find a spare minute of the day that she didn’t think about Irvine.
She had always had a thing about cowboys, which she couldn’t deny but when they first met he was a womanizer and then ended up with Selphie. When they were in Edea’s orphanage he was just the same. Now, after the defeat of the Sorceress he had calm down. He was no longer with Selphie and didn’t seem to be ogling the female students. He had changed.
Not only had seen been thinking about Irvine, she had been thinking about herself. Was she destined to be on her own? Would she die as a lonely old spinster with five cats? This is the thoughts that she swam through as she watched the sun make the sky change colours. She looked out towards the see and tried to see over the horizon, tried to see her future that lay waiting there for her. What she saw didn’t look promising.

Quistis started to use her time to practice her Blue Magic, she was getting stronger everyday and it occupied her mind enough for her thoughts to be pushed aside.
She still watched the sunrises and sunsets and had now started to look at the stars when nightmares woke her. Stars were fascinating. They had an aura of mystery surrounding them.
Quistis let out a long sigh as she observed the stars one night. Things were getting too much for her now; she needed to some how release the pressure that was enveloping her. She wasn’t alone, and her watcher suddenly realized that Quistis wasn’t happy. He stepped from his hiding place and walked over to her. He leaned on the railing at the side of Quistis.
The only light that was available to see anything with was the faint natural fairy lights from above and the full moon overhead. Irvine was a little nervous and was fiddling with his hat, which was now in his hand. Quistis was quiet.
She finally looked at him with her powder blue eyes. The moon bathed Quistis in a heavenly light; it flowed over her body like water over the sand. Her eyes twinkled with the lights, it made her golden hair shine, and it made her skin look like porcelain. She looked so delicate and so beautiful that he was unable to say what he intended to say. He just wanted to take her in his arms forever, never letting her go. All he could do was look at her.
“Irvine?” Quistis inquired, “How long have you been there?”
“Long enough Quisty. Long enough to admire the beauty that unfolded before me.” There was that awkward silence, “I’ve watched you a while...staring at the sunrises and sunsets from here. I’ve also seen you trying to look into your future.”
Quistis felt the rush of blood that burned her face; it was embarrassing to know that someone had been watching her drown her lonely sorrows and she not know. She was also angry with herself for being seen. She suddenly felt like it was parents evening and she had turned up naked.
Irvine saw her uncomfortable stance she had taken up. Her body was stiff, her face whitewashed and her knuckles were turning white under her grip that she had on the railing. He turned and leaned on the railing with his right arm, allowing him to look at Quistis, he sighed and she looked right at him. He could think of nothing to say and all he wanted to do was take her in his arms and kill all her sorrow.
All he could think about was how lovely her lips looked, so as he stood up he took her in his arms and kissed those tender lips. It was the only way he could express how he felt towards her. He thought that she would push him away, slap him and storm off, instead she wrapped her arms around his neck pulling him in closer. He removed his hands from her arms and placed them around her waist, the contrast of his muscled arms around her tiny waist looked rather strange but for Irvine, at least, the embrace seemed right.
When they finished Irvine shot her one of his smiles and left. The smile wasn’t of victory but one of happiness. All Quistis could do was look at the floor, and then she finally left to go to her dorm.

The next day Quistis didn’t notice what was going on around her. Some students were asking her when classes were to start. Some were asking her about the library and her fan club the Trepies ended up dealing with things, as Quistis wasn’t really there.
Irvine and the kiss never left her mind. That kiss, it was so caring and deep. Did he really like her or was she just another statistic on Irvine’s scorecard. She couldn’t tell. His attitude and affection were pointing to him liking her, but his reputation questioned that.
As the day finished and she had her shower Irvine was still in her mind. She needed to find out his feelings...she needed to find out her own. As she sat in her pajamas in front of the mirror, brushing her wet golden hair she made her decision.

“Come in” Irvine said from inside his room. Quistis entered nervously, Irvine was laid on his bed reading Weapons Monthly, and all he wore was his chaps. His hat, boots and shirt were laid on his desk chair, but as soon as he saw Quistis in her blue silk pajama’s he reached for his shirt.
“Erm...” began Quistis “I don’t really know how to say this but...” at that moment she looked into his eyes. Her yes must have whispered something to him as a look of realization entered his own.
“Shhh” was all he said before he took her into his own arms. Her wet hair stuck to his bare chest and through it Quistis heard his heart beat. She always had a soft spot for cowboys. She felt safe...she was infected.

Fic

Fri, 31 Dec 2004 01:48:45 GMT

Title: Not Dead But Dying Slowly (aka I need a title so I can go to bed)
Fandom: FF8
Pairing: Cid/Edea
Rating: A for Angst

Cid didn't want to see their faces when they got the order. He didn't even want to think about the fact that he'd given them the order. This was precisely why they'd built the Gardens, why they'd cultivated the SeeDs. This was the culmination of years of work.

But it didn't feel that way to him. To Cid, it felt an awful lot like sending a bunch of kids to kill their mother.

Well, there was no point in mincing around it, that was precisely what he was doing. Edea might not have given birth to them, and they might not remember her (damn those guardians), but she'd raised every single one of the kids he was sending after her.

He sat down heavily at his desk, suddenly feeling old. Normally he liked being around the cadets and the students. It made him feel young, howevermuch Aki might complain that it mad for poor discipline when the headmaster was friendly. Edea would know how to handle him, how to handle the things he was hearing about the garden masters...

Edea would know.

But he'd just sent his children off to kill his wife so it was a moot issue. It wasn't as if he could stop thinking about her just because she was off being a psychotic sorceress somewhere. And wasn't he always telling the children that self-pity never helped anyone?

They'd planned for this. She'd planned for this. It was exactly what the garden was built for. Maybe if he said that enough times, it would mean something.

And maybe if he waited long enough, the sheets would stop being cold and the pillows would stop smelling like her. He didn't know why the pillows smelled like Edea. There was no earthly reason why they should. He'd replaced them when he thought he couldn't stand the smell of her anymore in the dark, but the smell lingered anyway. He lived with it, and smiled in the morning despite himself, before he was awake enough to know she wasn't there.

He remembered when he met her, and she'd just taken in her first little girl quite by accident. The way she smiled wasn't just her lips, or in her eyes like some people. Entire rooms lit up when she smiled. She had stopped by the school where he was teaching to ask advice of a friend, and he just stopped and stared when he saw her.

It took him weeks to work up the courage to talk to her, but after a few awkward sentences the warmth of her smile seeped into him and he relaxed. After they got married, he stopped teaching to help her with her orphanage. People had joked that usually it was the woman who stopped working after marriage, but he would have followed her to the moon if she asked.

He dreamed about those good days a lot.

Sometimes there were nightmares, but not often. Not so much he lost the soft tones of her voice, or the image of her face without the veins snaking out from the temples. But there were nights he didn't sleep, more than he liked to admit, and if someone found him dozing in his office in the afternoon, well, that was just Headmaster Cid for you.

No one ever said a word about it. Some of them had to know. He knew some of the garden attendants were well aware, and some of the instructors had been there when Edea left. He wished someone would say something sometimes, that it would be out in the open and not just clouding over his desk, but that had been her idea too. Don't let the children know, don't let them have any attachment, teach them to use the GFs and never, never ask.

So that maybe they wouldn't know they were being sent out to kill their matron.

So that the sin could be his and not theirs.

And Cid stood, and looked outside, and waited to hear that his wife was dead.

Thu, 09 Dec 2004 00:27:26 GMT

I'm new to this community,but here is the link to my fanfiction

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2126409/1/

Hey Guys!

Sun, 07 Nov 2004 13:50:53 GMT

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Fic: "Your Time Is Now".

Sat, 30 Oct 2004 08:25:49 GMT

Hey, I'm new.

Summary: The sorceress’ knight is summoned to Balamb Garden at the end of the war. A bargain is struck.

Title: “Your Time Is Now”.
Author: thawed.
Rating: PG-13 for language.
Summary: The sorceress’ knight is summoned to Balamb Garden at the end of the war. A bargain is struck.
Spoilers: Yes. End of game.
Disclaimer: The recognisable characters appearing in this story are © Squaresoft, all rights reserved. They are used without permission and for entertainment purposes only. No profit is being made by the author for writing this story. No infringement upon nor challenge to the rights of the copyright holders is intended; nor should any be inferred.
A/N: Should be brought to the attention of the reader that this wasn’t intended to be Seifer x Squall. But… it sure came out strange.

British spelling used throughout.

Your Time Is Now.

**

Change everything you are,
And everything you were:
Your number has been called.
Fights, and battles have begun.
Revenge will surely come.
Your hard times are ahead.
Best, you’ve got to be the best,
You’ve got to change the world,
And use this chance to be heard.
Your time is now.
Your time is now.

**

The commander’s secretary -- pretty little thing, pale like a ghost -- is frightened of the sorceress’ knight. Seifer notes this, amused, as he leans over her desk and grins pleasantly and drums calloused gunblader’s fingers on the wood.

“Hi there. Got an appointment with the commander: name’s Seifer Almasy.”

She nods, a nervous twitch of her head, and manages a spasm of a smile as she breathes, “The commander is b-busy, sir. Please wait until he is able to see you.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He sidles away, feeling her gaze, frightened, suspicious, curious, pressed to his back as he makes his way towards the blue spiral-patterned seats, and the stupid grin dies a hurried death. Welcome back, Seifer. Everyone’s just overjoyed to see you.

He notes to himself that he misses the heavy wash of his trenchcoat around his ankles, but the trenchcoat, like his mistress, was in ruins by the end of the war, tattered and fading. He had woken from the cold numb horror of Time Compression and thrown it into a river, watching it darken as it sank. He misses Raijin, who was killed -- or murdered, but how do you distinguish the two when everybody’s dead? -- in Deling City by rebel Galbadian forces. There’s a gaping Raijin-shaped hollow inside him that aches like a lost limb, and when his thoughts slide over it the pain is soft and cold and lonely, so he doesn’t do that often.

And, Hyne knows, some of him has missed this place.

Sometimes, lying awake at night in Galbadia, where the dark was as oppressive as a hot tight hand around him and Ultimecia whispered madly in his head, he thought of his cramped little dorm and the ridiculous cadet’s uniform he never wore and Quistis Trepe’s shrill voice when she was angry and the greasy canteen food, hot dogs so slick with oil you could slide them along a table from one end to the other, and wished--

But wishes don’t come true; being a sorceress’ knight isn’t romantic; there are no heroes to be found amongst killers.

Today, it seems, only two of those are true.

He thumbs through a copy of June’s “Weapons Monthly”, fingertips slip-sliding over the glossy pages, although he only reads one word in every four, and the pictures swim before his eyes.

If he’s really honest with himself, there’s something else he’s missed, and it -- he -- is on the other side of the ornate double-doors over there, sitting behind the Headmaster’s desk with three golden stripes on his collar and a well-practiced scowl.

But they’re not children any more. Quistis, Zell, Selphie, Leonhart. Me.

All grown up, and isn’t it a wonderful world we live in?

No.

He supposes that saving the world -- and now, without Ultimecia coaxing him towards dreams of righteousness, he knows, bitterly, that they did -- will do that to you. Because once you’ve killed a man, once you’ve stood over a cold-red-red body and looked at the blood, stark and beautiful and shocking, on your gloves, things can only be different.

A thousand men later, Seifer feels old and tired, but he doesn’t feel guilty.

Late nights drinking Dollet vodka, making jokes about chickens in the hallway, flirting with the pretty blonde girl in Class A-4B.

It’s all distant, now.

If this is growing up, Seifer knows why he avoided it for so long.

**

Fifteen minutes later, he is still waiting.

He watches the hands of the clock shift ‘round. The hall is like an anaesthetic, bright and stiff and sterile, no place for troubled thoughts, but those are the only thoughts Seifer can manage, so he sits with head down and arms folded and meanders from notion to notion, skipping around pain like water around oil.

“The commander will see you now,” the secretary chirrups, and he glances up wearily before getting to his feet. He grins again, and she jumps like a startled mouse. He tells himself that he’ll stop enjoying that some day as he pushes open the double-doors.

He has been summoned three times previously to the Headmaster’s office. First day at Balamb Garden; when Trepe filed a complaint about my behaviour in class; and when I accidentally-with-some-intention hacked open Leonhart’s face. It is as he remembers it, almost: furnished in gleaming chestnut wood and blue velvet, desk set in the centre and littered with papers and little pieces of gadgetry, sofas and straight-backed chairs arranged neatly around a fireplace in one corner, everything absurdly decadent.

Squall Leonhart doesn’t look up as he enters, scribbling away on a report in small neat handwriting turned wild.

“Hi, Zell.” His voice is tight with stress.

“Now, now. If you’re going to tell me off for being a very naughty sorceress’ knight, you’re going to have to get my name right.”

Squall raises his head, but he doesn’t jump like a startled mouse. He is brilliantly pale, punctuated by dark solemn eyes and dark jagged hair and the vicious line of the scar searing down between his eyebrows. He wears the black and gold SeeD uniform awkwardly, jacket buttoned up to a collar emblazoned with the three stripes of a commander behind the elaborate trim.

“Hello, Seifer,” he says, and is this the quiet cold glaring boy from the back of Trepe’s classroom who screamed when Shiva was pushed into his head?

Seifer gives a sarcastic wave, standing tall in the doorway. “Well, hello there, Mr. Commander, sir. Isn’t this just the greatest?”

“No,” Squall says flatly. “It isn’t. It would be a lot better if you weren’t in my office, and some Esthari soldier had killed you.” He sits back in his chair and folds his arms and looks at Seifer. “Sit down.”

Seifer sneers, and says, in a drawling Galbadian accent that found its way into his voice over the last six months, “Have to tell you: I’d rather not be here, so why don’t I just leave?”

“If you do, one of the Esthari soldiers outside might accidentally pull the trigger,” Squall replies evenly, “and you’ll find yourself lying on the ground with a bullet in your back. You’re a perpetrator of war crimes. They’ll treat you as such. So you might want to stick around.” In his own way, Squall is more frightening than Ultimecia, Seifer thinks: this weird pale creature of violence and desperate love, with the power of a thousand mercenaries in his hand. Seifer resurrects his grin, but it’s as false as he feels.

“Aren’t you just a barrel of laughs. They must love you down in the ranks.”

Squall flicks his heavy gleaming hair out of his eyes. “I’m not a nice person. I don’t pretend to be. But at least I got myself onto the right side of this war.”

With a deep dry laugh, Seifer says, “Oh, yeah? So how’d you figure it that early on?”

“I chose the side without a crazy psycho-sorceress on it.”

Seifer thinks of Ultimecia, hand soothing and soft in his hair, smiling down at him with peculiar affection, washing the blood from his arms--

“She wasn’t that bad,” he replies, softly.

“And Time Compression was a happy walk in the park. Whatever.” Squall opens a drawer in the desk and takes out a packet of cigarettes; slips one out and puts it between his lips. He lights it with a little blue lighter from his jacket, and breathes out curls of white-grey smoke, tapping ash onto the carpet as he leans back.

“So, what are you going to do with me?” Ultimecia’s knight grins, eyes bright and sardonic. “Hope they’re still suckers for the death penalty ‘round here, ‘cause, y’know, I escaped that once.”

“Actually, around here they favour life imprisonment.”

“Well, damn. And I was hoping for a slap on the hand.”

Squall is silent.

“What’s the matter, Leonhart? Am I ruining your fairytale dream of living happily ever after, birds singing and flowers growing and all that?”

“What you’ve never learnt, Seifer, is that there’s no room for fairytales in the real world.” Squall waves the hand with a cigarette slipped between the fingers. “So you can sit in the cell they’ve got ready for you for the rest of your life and think of dreams, but I’ll be in my Garden, Commander of SeeD, and the only difference between us is dreams. And now you have no right to hope for anything better than you receive, and the only person to blame is yourself.”

“I can plead manipulation.” Seifer hears the note of desperation in his own voice, but Squall is already shaking his head.

“No, you can’t. You know I won’t let you.”

“Yeah?”

“I can get the law under my thumb without trying.”

“Bullshit.”

“I killed as many people as you, Seifer, if not more, and I’m still a hero. Think about it. I’ll bring you down.”

“Because I tortured you.”

Squall shrugs and draws deeply on his cigarette. His hair is heavy across his face again, and Seifer can’t see his eyes. “If you like.”

“You bastard.”

“Yes. I’m a bastard. I don’t care. I’ll be around long after you’ve decayed down in some dank little hole. Life’s a bitch, isn’t it?”

“Not for you. You’ve got your Garden, and your friends, and your fiancé.”

“You didn’t hear. Well, that’s hardly surprising.”

“What?”

“Rinoa’s dead.” Squall’s voice is quiet, and shock is a white cold knife in Seifer’s chest as the words wind through his ears. “She was killed in Timber by rebel Galbadian forces. Looks like you got your way. You couldn’t have her, and now no-one ever will.” Squall’s spare fingers open the clasp of the pendant around his neck, and he holds the heavy silver chain in his hand and swings the roaring lion-cross before his face. “Did you write irony into your dreams, Seifer? Because there’s an awful lot of it floating around.”

“What do you want me to say?” Seifer demands, all wound up like a snake rearing to bite. “Sorry? I didn’t do it.”

“I don’t want you to say anything. Like I said, life's a bitch. I might have killed Ultimecia, saved the whole fucking world, but I don’t get a fairytale ending. You gave your soul to a sorceress, killed and bled and died for her, and you don’t get one either.” He drops the pendant, and it falls with a loud hollow crunch of the silver chain on wood. Squall looks at it. “Dreams are for nothing. You’ll understand that one day.”

“When did she die?”

“Yesterday.”

“Who got her power?”

“Fujin.”

Seifer’s face twists, and he starts forward, snarling, “That’s not funny. That’s not funny, you sick little--“ He finds himself suddenly staring at Squall’s outstretched hand. The gloved fingers are white and eerie with a half-formed Blizzaga.

“Don’t come any closer,” Squall says calmly. Ultimecia’s knight backs down, and the spell fades. Squall taps cigarette ash onto the floor. “She gave herself over to Esthari forces three hours ago.”

“Yeah, and you’ve got the Esthari army under your thumb too, right?”

“My father’s the President of Esthar,” Squall says resentfully. “Laguna Loire.”

“Well, well, one of us got a parent in the end. Congratulations, Leonhart.”

Squall throws down his cigarette and stamps it into the carpet, venom tightening his mouth briefly. “I hate him. He’s self-absorbed and clumsy and stupid. I was better off an orphan.”

He rises from his chair and goes to one of the wide windows, and for the first time Seifer sees the brilliant electric-blue of LionHeart in his rival’s hand, the blade a line of bright diamond. Revolver is a ridiculous and distant thought.

“I heard about Raijin,” Squall continues. He takes a handful of fat purple bullets from his pocket and drops them into the barrels of his gunblade one by one. They click as they fall into place. “I’d give my sympathies, but you’d see straight through it. Raijin and Fujin mean nothing to me, because your “posse” were useless in the end: they didn’t manage to stop you.”

“Shut up.”

“So what have we learnt from this, Seifer?” Click. “We’ve played out a great charade of “good” and “evil”, and in the end people are still dead, and the world’s still wrong, and blame is dealt out, but it doesn’t set it right.” Click. “Because there’s no such thing as “good” and “evil”. I loved Rinoa, and she’s gone.” Click. “Does that make her evil, because in that split-second a Galbadian made a choice, and she ended up dead?” Click. “Does it make Raijin evil, or Ultimecia, or the thousands of people we killed between us?” Click. “Does it make me good, and you evil, because I won and you lost?”

Quiet, vehement, “No.”

Squall weighs his gunblade in his hand and says, “Ultimecia believed in what she was doing. Somehow, in her head, it was the right thing to do. Rinoa saw the good in you. I could only ever hate you, but she found something and she latched onto it. You’re not evil, and I’m not good. We’re both as bad as each other. I should pay for what I’ve done, although I never will, but you’ll pay for what you’ve done a hundred times over.”

Squall raises his gunblade, and Seifer looks down the lethal edge to the narrowed eyes as Squall, standing vividly pale in the morning light, flicks the safety catch off.

They stare at each other for a moment, before Squall lowers the gunblade and sheathes it at his hip.

“So I’m going to make you an offer. I’m not doing it for you; don’t delude yourself otherwise.” He opens a second drawer in his desk, and draws out a sheet of paper. As he reads it over, he says, “I’m doing it for Rinoa, and Ultimecia, and all the people who, in the end, just got in the way of our feud, and paid for it with their lives. Because I’ve grown up, and you have too, and if I can’t do this, then, in the end, I’m worse.” He hands the sheet to Seifer.

“This is a contract. Sign it, and I’ll make it go away. All your sins. Your name will be erased from every register, every record, every book. “Seifer Almasy” will cease to mean anything to anyone. Your existence will be removed. In exchange, you’ll disappear.”

When it comes down to it, he’s being offered a choice of freedom or imprisonment, and Seifer knows which he’d rather have. He takes the ballpoint offered to him and signs it without bothering to look the paper over.

Squall watches him with stark, keen eyes. “And if you ever allow me to discover you again, I’ll kill you,” he states, and it’s a testament to the violent world they live in that Seifer doesn’t flinch. Squall sits down at his desk and starts on another cigarette. “Think of it as a punishment from me to you. Because all you ever wanted was to be noticed, to be the centre of attention, to have glory and renown and power. You dared to dream of life as a sorceress’ knight, and now you’ll pay for it.”

“Where do I go?”

“I don’t care. I’d recommend Galbadia. It’s the only place in the world where I have no influence. I’ll have Fujin released. Keep your head down, and your dreams to yourself, and you’ll be fine.”

“No, I won’t,” Seifer says.

“Right. You won’t be fine. And that’s the point.”

“What about you?”

Squall looks up, and, suddenly, he looks tired and gaunt and sick with grief, and the scar between his eyes is a livid brand. It’s the expression of a drowning man, and Seifer’s seen it before: when Edea shot Leonhart full of shimmering ice in Deling City. Squall looks down at his hands, toying with the glowing cigarette. “Rinoa’s gone. I’m on anti-depressant medication for PTSD, but I find a fake smile and a razorblade to the arm works better.” He gathers his pendant from the desk and clasps it his neck. “I’m the second most important person in the world, and I couldn’t care less. I hate attention, being in the spotlight, having people know my business, but that’s all I’ve got now, and I wouldn’t have it if you hadn’t leapt after Ultimecia. So I’ll think of it as a punishment from you to me.” His face softens into a blank, mouth and eyes flat, and he says, “I won’t be fine, either.”

Seifer nods, satisfied. “We’re even.”

“We’re even. Goodbye, Seifer.” Squall holds out his hand, and Seifer shakes it. There is a current of understanding between them.

“Bye, Leonhart. Have a nice life.”

“You too.”

As Seifer leaves, Zell Dincht pushes past him without a glance and strides into the melancholy blue of Leonhart’s office, all wiry energy and bright expression.

“Hey, Squall!”

Squall looks up, and the smile is there, small and lopsided and fake, but his eyes are a bleak wasteland that only Seifer will ever see.

“Hey, Zell.”

“Look, man, I just came up to ask…”

The door closes.

We’re not going to be fine, Seifer thinks, and it’s enough.

All grown up, and isn’t it a wonderful world we live in?

**

Don’t let yourself down,
Don’t let yourself go:
Your last chance has arrived.
Best, you’ve got to be the best,
You’ve got to change the world,
And use this chance to be heard.

Your time is now.

Your time is now.

End.

**

-- thawed.

Sequins & Pearls (Rinoa/Seifer, Rinoa/Squall) - NC-17

Wed, 20 Oct 2004 17:12:31 GMT

Title: Sequins & Pearls
Pairing: Rinoa/Seifer, Rinoa/Squall
Rating: NC-17

she feels like she might burst in an explosion of sequins and pearls

Sat, 11 Sep 2004 19:05:33 GMT

Hey! I'm new to the community, and I have a couple different stories here:

www.fanfiction.net/~kaycar11

Check it out if you choose to, but I'd love to have you read and review!

Wahoo

Thu, 24 Jun 2004 13:25:12 GMT

I wrote this story a little while ago, and had faith in it. I put it on fanfiction last night, so it's very new on the website. I even have faith in it, because I have finally started something that I think I am doing a good job in. I'll just put the link to the story in here, and hope for the best. Please review! :)

Oh, and I'm new here, so hi!

http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=1926975

Tue, 15 Jun 2004 05:58:09 GMT

...It's totally died here, hasn't it?

Mhm, I'm on a songfic spree!

Sat, 29 May 2004 05:33:37 GMT

Well, yet another songfic from me. =O This one is about the breakup between Squall and Rinoa, in my story. The song is "Don't Stay" by Linkin Park. Really, I think this song would be suitable for Squall's point of view, while "Don't Speak" by No Doubt would fit more along Rinoa's. =P But, anyway... yeah. There are two lines I just overlapped and made into dialogue, and if you know the song, you'll be able to pick them out. And, like usual, I put the chorus near the end, rather than between verses. =P Saves me the headache of trying to stretch something out to make it work. Lol. So, uh... guess that's all. Enjoy.

( ... ) Squall couldn't believe this was happening. It was like a nightmare, almost. Only this was real, and

Sometimes I... need to remember just to breathe

he wasn't thrilled in the least. And he was sort of mad at her, feeling like... it was all her fault. Maybe it was, but it was both unfair and immature to place all the blame on her. He just needed time to think,

Sometimes I... need you to stay away from me

needed time alone — like usual. This was like a kick to the groin, figuratively speaking. And still,

Sometimes I'm... in disbelief I didn't know

he couldn't believe that she still had feelings for him, the "other guy."

His rival.

Seifer Almasy.

And he hadn't known because, oh, all this time she'd hidden it by saying that's she'd fallen for him, Squall, and lied about her feelings towards Seifer but why, why was certainly the question at hand here.

"Listen, Squall... I..." the ebony-haired girl started. But she had lost the words. This was so difficult to say, to talk about, because she'd known how much he'd loved her. But she just... hadn't felt right hiding things from him like that, because she was too much of a kind soul underneath it all, right? And she hated lying. That made her too much like her... father.

"I've heard enough," he snapped. "Just get out of here."

Somehow I... need you to go

"Oh, yeah, and let you mull over this. We need to talk, and that's why I came here."

"What more is there to say?

Sometimes I... feel like I trusted you too well

I think it was all explained with, 'I'm sorry, Squall, but I kissed Seifer. I still have feelings for him.'

Sometimes I... just feel like screaming at myself

Yeah, somewhere in there."

Rinoa was, for the first time ever, growing thoroughly angry with him. "I thought you would handle this better! You've always been pretty level-headed! I knew you'd be crushed, but I thought you would at least be mature about it!" She was biting her lip to keep from bursting into tears.

A scoff came from his direction. "Oh, so now I'm immature! Oh, alright. It all makes SENSE now! Well, how fucking immature is it to play around with me like you did? Using your charm on me, making me fall in love with you, then

Sometimes I'm... in disbelief I didn't know

spring it upon me that you still feel something for Seifer, not to mention, tell me you kissed him. Yeah, how mature is that, Rinoa?" His head was pounding, and

Somehow I... need to be alone

he just wanted her to leave him alone, so he could sleep. And at this point, he almost wished he wouldn't wake up,

Don't stay

or at least forget he'd met her,

Forget our memories

or what they could have become.

Forget our possibilities

He'd never felt like he had before — at least, not to where he could remember. He'd always been the loner, the stoic one, but

What you were changing me into

she'd changed him... even a little bit.

(Just give me myself back and)

Now he wanted to go back to that.

Don't stay

Rinoa, meanwhile, was losing control over her emotions. She'd done so well, trying her damnedest to not give in and be weak, not cry. Oh, but don't forget who taught you that.

Forget our memories

Funny how that worked. Well, now it was going nowhere but down, so

Forget our possibilites

might as well forget, Princess, just let it go.

Of course, she couldn't blame him right now, because she had done a pretty bad thing. Made a mistake. She was only human after all, though. But, DAMNIT, did it make her mad how he'd just gone off on her. Well,

Take all your faithlessness with you

screw that. Her goal was to leave with even the slightest trace of her dignity and integrity, which, BY THE WAY —

(Just give me myself back and)

at least she'd had the courage to tell him and be completely honest about it, nonetheless. What more did he want?

Don't stay

"...I don't need you anymore," he muttered from out of nowhere.

Well, wasn't that just a shock. Fine. Fight fire with fire. Hey, as a matter of fact, there had been something that had sort of bothered her when they were together, and his rather spontaneous remark just seconds ago seemed to have made her remember it. Of course. Wow, how devoted he'd been to his work! Hmm. That was part of the reason she'd sought after Seifer again, how dare she forget. "I don't want to be ignored!" she shouted, her voice drowning in her tears. "Which I had been, due to you and all you had to do!"

I don't need one more day
Of you wasting me away

So now it was Squall's turn to be surprised. And that had also snapped the string that had kept his temper suspended. "Fuck. You!" he growled.

With that, Rinoa left, slamming the door behind her

With no apologies

really hard.

It was over.