arghmuses

Title: This Dance
Author: cydling
Fandom: FF8
Rating: M15
Warnings: implied past homoerotic relationship, light angst
On Going (WIP)/One-off/Series: One shot
Classification(s): POV, Songfic, AU (it happens after game)
Pairing(s): Squall/Rinoa Squall/Seifer
Summary: Seifer talks about the war and time afterward. Of being contained in Garden
Author's Notes: The song is Charlotte Martin - The Dance.

( This Dance )

Title: Sweetest Downfall
Canon: Final Fantasy VIII
Characters: Seifer/Squall
Rating: PG
Warnings: implied budding m/m, probable AU, pre-game, probably song-fic-ish,
Summary: Youth, love and falling into it? I'm sucking at summaries today!
Wordcount: 1564
Author's Notes: The song bit and held on. Demanded a fic. Regina Spektor's Samson. Also, really fucking sorry for the cross posting like whoa!
Beta: albijuli
( Sweetest Downfall )

Title: Scraps of Paper
Characters/Pairings: Seifer, Squall
Rating: R. So fucking R.
Classifications: AU (after game), POV (Squall's), Short Fic
Warnings: Angst (possibly), Disturbing Content (comments of torture), Language, Suicidal Themes (talk of attempted), Reference of Sex (possible dubcon)
Word Count: 1490
Series: FFVIII
Author's Notes: prompt #130 @ ffviii_100. This is what took hold of me and ended me writing like I've not done in a long time. Also, sorry for the cross posting.
( Scraps of Paper )

Title: Their Version
Characters/Pairings: Seifer/Squall
Team: Balamb G
Rating: PG
Word Count: 200
Author's Notes: It felt weird to write something more than 100 words. ...OMG! I wrote more than 100 words! Yay!

Their romance was nothing textbook, nor sweet and lovely. It was painful and hurtful and intense. Always intense. From the looks that they gave each other across the room to the mind-blowing, knee melting orgasms that took them late into the night.

The fights were almost always loud and explosive, except when they were the silent and pain filled ones. The sparring was brutal and bone-jarring, leaving both men with cuts and scars that would heal into small white lines on sun kissed or pale skin.

Their quiet moments were filled with intensity that would have shocked those who seen it. They'd lay on the bed, close together and stare at each other. Occasionally one would move in and kiss the other's scar or let their fingertips slide across skin.

For hours the two could lay like that, green eyes staring into grey ones; a gaze broken by slow blinks. It spoke volumes, said words that would never be uttered through voice or sneak past lips on tongue. The look was an "I love you", a "I need you" and the ever present "You're mine."

It was possessive and intense, powerful and yielding, but it was their version of love.