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Entry tags:
FF8: Loves Possession
Title: Loves Possession
Characters/Pairings: Seifer/Squall, mention of Quistis
Team: Balamb G
Rating: R for violence
Word Count: 200
Author's Notes: It mentions blood and physical violence and dysfunctional relationships.
It hurt like a bitch and he knew that it was bleeding. Bleeding just like when Seifer sliced open his forehead with Hyperion. Just like when he did the same thing moments later.
The sparring matches always stopped when one of them ended up bloodied and broken on the ground. The other standing over the other, panting and with a wild look in their eye. The sex would be almost as rough, rarely was it tender or kind between them. Even less so when one or the other felt overly possessive, then it was claiming and both walked away with bites and scratches on their bodies, tell tale signs of something that could be nothing more than a kink or something deeper and dysfunctional.
Quistis often spouted some shit about them being possessive and an unhealthy-type possessive to top it all off. Seifer would snarl and tell her to "shut the fuck up" and Squall would roll his eyes and mutter a "whatever" before they would walk away.
It wasn't healthy, and love had limits. Or it should have for those two.
That thought didn't cross Squall's mind as he gingerly touched his split lip and spit into the sink.
Characters/Pairings: Seifer/Squall, mention of Quistis
Team: Balamb G
Rating: R for violence
Word Count: 200
Author's Notes: It mentions blood and physical violence and dysfunctional relationships.
It hurt like a bitch and he knew that it was bleeding. Bleeding just like when Seifer sliced open his forehead with Hyperion. Just like when he did the same thing moments later.
The sparring matches always stopped when one of them ended up bloodied and broken on the ground. The other standing over the other, panting and with a wild look in their eye. The sex would be almost as rough, rarely was it tender or kind between them. Even less so when one or the other felt overly possessive, then it was claiming and both walked away with bites and scratches on their bodies, tell tale signs of something that could be nothing more than a kink or something deeper and dysfunctional.
Quistis often spouted some shit about them being possessive and an unhealthy-type possessive to top it all off. Seifer would snarl and tell her to "shut the fuck up" and Squall would roll his eyes and mutter a "whatever" before they would walk away.
It wasn't healthy, and love had limits. Or it should have for those two.
That thought didn't cross Squall's mind as he gingerly touched his split lip and spit into the sink.