#➤ *𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒. ( SQUALL LEONHART ) post ff8 verse

[knightfeared]

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘, 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑, 𝐀 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐀𝐍 𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 — 𝐇𝐄'𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐈𝐅 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐃𝐈𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄. Maybe it's the bloodloss speaking, maybe it's a mixture of the pain making him babble aimlessly in an effort to focus on something else — anything else, it's manifesting as grim questions tossed the other swordsman's way. He can't say for certain. One thing he is sure of, is for the first time in a long while, he's terrified.

Scared.

He knows it shows on his bloodied features, cast in splatters of cherry-hued scarlet, deathly pale skin the colour of sun-bleached bone. Squall's eyes are wide, his pupils unfocused, mirror-light eyes catching & holding tight on the space he thinks Seifer's are, lingering pleadingly as if his word alone could fix him, negate any of this & chase the reaper away. The thing that scares him the most is how familiar this all feels, that building panic that makes his heart drum away, beating so ferociously against his ribs like an imprisoned inmate. He can't reason it away, no form of internal logic soothes it down, & all he can do is tremble in place with chilled fingers & try to ignore the spiking chill that kisses at the nape of his neck like ice.

He's died before. This feels close to it — he isn't sure he can do it again. If he can come back a second time.

He clamps his jaw shut tight, teeth making a sharp sound in the strained tension of the infirmary room, as he curls his fingers restlessly in the blonde's hold. Squall's grip tightens when rustling is heard, muffled voices coming in closer, cutting through the small protective bubble of privacy with an urgency that makes his stomach sink.

He isn't sure if he babbles out that he's dying out loud, but the almost hysteric bark of wet laughter makes his chest ache.

*CONTINUED. 📨 ➤   @reveromantique  [ ; ] I am thwacking u back with pain happy Monday 💀

#╰┈➤ ┊❛ ANSWERED IC. ❜┊ #╰┈➤ ┊❛ INTERACTIONS. ❜┊ #REVEROMANTIQUE. / SEIFER ALMASY. #MUSE: [ SQUALL LEONHART. ] #➤ *𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒. ( SQUALL LEONHART ) post ff8 verse #❝ Memories penned in blood & fire. Ash & bone turned to sand. ❞ . [ REVEROMANTIQUE ] #Injury tw

[knightfeared]

𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐄𝐃  ⁺  . ✦ ➤ squall leonhart & seifer almasy + ffviii edits  [ ; ]  AESTHETICS / ISMS @reveromantique

#╰┈➤ ┊❛ MY EDITS. ❜┊ #╰┈➤ ┊❛ VISAGE. / LOOKING IN THE MIRROR AGAIN… ❜┊ #╰┈➤ ┊❛ ISMS. / MUSINGS. ❜┊ #MUSE: [ SQUALL LEONHART. ] #❝ Memories penned in blood & fire. Ash & bone turned to sand. ❞ . [ REVEROMANTIQUE ] #Braced for the sunrise. Will you meet me where we both fell? [ ; ] SQUALL / SEIFER ➤〔 REVEROMANTIQUE 〕 #➤ *𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒. ( SQUALL LEONHART ) post ff8 verse #Slides your way before I pass out #💀

[knightfeared]

➤   Rise from the ashes [ ; ] Grow with my power & open with my heart. ❝ I promised myself I wouldn’t let you complete me . . .❞ @reveromantique

❝ Damages define our border, all that matter forged in flame. Knowing little of your wounding, share our mending all the same. Weight of words & wars we carried. I'm like you — just like you. Eyes of secrets, storm & story. Show & tell, we'll make it through. ❞

“You saved my life,” he says. “I owe you everything.” “You don’t.” I say. “You don’t owe me squat. Let’s just get going, let’s just get gone.” But he’s relentless, keeps saying — “Your shoes are filling with your own damn blood, you must want something. Tell me & it’s yours.”

— — Richard Siken, "Wishbone"

➤ From Fire - Shireen   ➤ Drumming Song - Florence + The Machine   ➤ Hardest of Hearts - Florence + The Machine   ➤ The Darker The Weather // The Better The Man - MISSIO   ➤ Glory & Gore - Lorde   ➤ Smells Like Teen Spirit - Saint Mesa   ➤ Heavy In Your Arms - Florence + The Machine   ➤ Very Good Bad Thing - Mother Mother   ➤  Losing My Mind - MISSIO   ➤ The Way Down - Wax//Wane  ➤ Sing To Me - MISSIO ➤ Intro ( Creatures of Habit ) - Greta Isaac  ➤ Bullet With Butterfly Wings - Tribe Society   ➤ Everybody Wants To Rule the World - Lorde.   ➤ Feathers - A Perfect Circle   ➤ Change Me - 8 Graves   ➤ Foreign Tongues - CryWolf

#╰┈➤ ┊❛ MY EDITS. ❜┊ #╰┈➤ ┊❛ RADIO TUNES. / MUSE SONGS. ❜┊ #MUSE: [ SQUALL LEONHART. ] #❝ Memories penned in blood & fire. Ash & bone turned to sand. ❞ . [ REVEROMANTIQUE ] #Braced for the sunrise. Will you meet me where we both fell? [ ; ] SQUALL / SEIFER ➤〔 REVEROMANTIQUE 〕 #➤ *𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄. ( SQUALL LEONHART ) sorcerer’s knight verse #➤ *𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒. ( SQUALL LEONHART ) post ff8 verse

[knightfeared]

*Send 🛑 for my muse (receiver) to step in and protect your muse (sender) from someone. 📨 ➤   @reveromantique  [ ; ] 🛑 -reveromantique for squall

𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐒𝐎 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐇, 𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐍. Even now, so long after everything had settled back down again — after Seifer had taken on as many missions as he had in their favour, at their request, others still found enough of a reason to give the man a hard time for simply existing.

( ‘ Though he can't even call it that, really. Garden orders were practically law. You followed them or their generous hospitality came to a sudden, abrupt & jarring end . . . ’ )

Even so, Seifer tried his best despite it. But, even as much as he'd slowly begun to mellow out, a contradicting, confusing mix of well-behaved with the same old wild energy he bore — many within their walls still harboured the same boiling anger, the lingering rage at his part in the war & the decisions made. It was a thing Squall was well aware of even when he'd backed up the decision to bring him back into Balambs fold, what he’d fought against even as he continued to stubbornly vouch for him. Arguments made on why Almasy was far from a good asset to have in their hand, the dislike & ire were far from new to him. But what was — was anyone trying to go against it so strongly, through actions.

Issues & insults were whispered, cursed low, loud enough to catch on the passing wind if you focused hard enough as you walked — but never had anyone tried to violently strike out. Vigilante justice or petulant rage in the form of a physical temper tantrum, who could really say — he's only thankful he manages to spot the glint of metal before it was too late, an old habit burned & melted down into his instincts like a scarring brand. Squall moves as soon as he catches it, maybe spurred on by something more guiding his strings, feeling the protective instinct, the urge to guard the other from harm flare like a bright, bursting sun beneath his skin, all as he shoves himself between the blonde & his would-be assailant.

He doesn't think, doesn't react as smart as he knows he should — his brain kicking into damage control, battle plan mode far after they'd moved, feeling the sharpened pain of a dagger to his side as he grits his teeth with blossoming rage. It burns low, simmering outrage peering at the man. Fingers curl impossibly tight around the other's wrist from where he's snatched it, feeling the blade press that bit deeper, jostling uncomfortably as his side grows wet. The other's grasp grows limp, a pained wince. Adrenaline masks it, blurs the next few moments as he moves to retaliate.

All he remembers is the taste of blood in his mouth, the smell of it curling so full through his senses, & the feeling of a deep ache in his knuckles.

#╰┈➤ ┊❛ ANSWERED IC. ❜┊ #╰┈➤ ┊❛ INTERACTIONS. ❜┊ #reveromantique #MUSE: [ SQUALL LEONHART. ] #➤ *𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒. ( SQUALL LEONHART ) post ff8 verse #❝ Memories penned in blood & fire. Ash & bone turned to sand. ❞ . [ REVEROMANTIQUE ] #Injury tw

[knightfeared]

*Send " Who am I to you? " to hear my muse describe their relationship with your muse/how they perceive them as a person. 📨 ➤   @reveromantique  [ ; ] Who am I to you?

𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐌. Had been for a long while now, if he's honest. Evenings, early mornings, stolen moments in between the rare pockets of time Squall could find, they were all gradually captured by the blonde before him now. Bit by bit, all until they were given freely — willingly, widened by his own hand to make room so they didn't feel so stolen & short, more looked forward to, enjoyed before the press of his work called him back. He rarely enjoyed the actual 'work' itself, but it offered some stability he could use to ensure a safety net was always in place. Stupid a thought as it is, he has power, he can use it to make sure nothing else happens to throw the other back into a spiral that winds him down into destruction. That at the very least, he'd be there this time to make sure he could help.

As it stands now, he lets those thoughts slide away like water, watches on as waves lazily retreat after lapping along the stone of lands edge. Sweat beads along his brow, skin still covered in a light sheen, muscles set aflame with the burn of exertion. It's so familiar it scorches him with a warmth he can't help but cradle.

Snorting softly at the question, he lifts a hand to wipe along his brow, clearing it away, swiping his dampened bangs from his eyes, as he allows his moon-silver gaze to flicker over to the other swordsmans. Bearing a curiosity that swims deep in their stormy depths, there's also the tinge of fondness to pad the cut of their normal pierce. He studies Seifer. He takes him in, steely eyes flitting all across his face, just as flushed, watching as he breathes in deep the ocean air of Balamb's harbour, how the dying light of the passing sun catch on his hair, almost gifting the man a crown-like halo from where he stands. If Squall stares long enough, conjures a memory to mind, he can almost imagine a pair of matching wings to complete the image.

His lips press together in thought once he realizes that the other is asking him seriously, the moment chosen to bring it up ringing in almost eerie familiarity. Cyclic in a way, as most things seemed to be with them. More of a gentle mumble for reassurance, grumbled lowly to herald the press of a trusting wolf's head into the palm of his hand, he caves, of course he does, but he just needs to figure out how to start. The air feels insistent, even as the silence continues to sprawl, waiting to be shattered at whatever Squall chose to answer back with. He thinks on it, breaking contact to turn & study the skyline in the distance, mind whirring so loudly he thinks the other hears it too.

A shoulder bumps against his, the warmth that radiates from Seifer being a comfort he gladly leans back against, eyeing the stone beneath old running shoes as he hums. Many memories come to mind, the cold of the ring on his finger anchoring him in the present as his mind takes a mental travel back into the past, scouring for the source of everything as his teeth begin to worry at his lips in thought.

Who was Seifer to him . . . ?

From as far back as he could remember, he was a rare constant in his life. In the days that came & went during their shared time in the old Orphanage run by Matron, he can still vaguely recall echoing voices, some teasing banter shared with the intent to goad him into playing over isolating. Memories of wet eyes, always teary, that ever present strain in his tiny jaw that'd be started because he'd clench his teeth together so tight in an effort to stop the urge to cry from rearing. He'd turned the others away, always lingered on the outskirts, needing closeness, company, but not wanting to get hurt again — not when losing people hurt so much like the scrape of bruised knees from a too hard fall. He was young then, didn't know how to cope with anything, how to build himself up to just be strong in trying again.

While others came & went, Seifer was always a constant that stayed. Though his efforts went from trying to push Squall to play to patience lost insistent pushes. Hard shoves, rough brushes — he knows the other was a bully for a time, when it came to him. But looking it all over with freshened eyes, with an older mind, he's oddly thankful for the harsh treatment.

That for the time, there was someone who, in their own way, had refused to give up on him. Had never left, had stayed & continued to try helping him build up his walls, from the outside brick by brick to better stand & protect himself. But even when Squall had closed himself off, still he persisted, sticking right outside to try enticing him to react, to leave that safety & fight.

Seifer taught Squall to be stronger, even if they had fumbled in their attempts as kids, looking at it now, he can wholeheartedly say that if the other hadn't been such a consistent force luring him out, crashing against him like a raging sea to a coastline's cliffside, Squall knows he would have turned out very differently. It's imbedded in deep through glittering memories that he can only remember brief fragments of — picking his chosen weapon, the other boy taking initiative to help him learn to wield it before once more, building him up to be someone he could spar with.

Through out it all, they grew together. It's a strong feeling he knows he was aware of even when things started to rise in tensions, when blood was actually drawn, when anger seethed & flared under too strained skin ready to snap & bite. When blades crashed, when sparks flew at their sharpened glide acting as a kiss in greeting in how familiar it was — there was always a sort of unspoken respect in place, a lingering understanding. Two sides of the same coin, they were, mirrors at times, ironically expressed through near matching marks gifted through a reckless spar that somehow felt like the start of everything crashing down before it'd been built up again.

Time changed them both, & as he leans more against Seifer's side, the slow bump of their arms, the knock of their elbows, the brush of forearms & the eventual slow but trusting drag of the backs of his hand along his own. He laces them together, thumb smoothing over calloused, battle-loved skin. He finds there's little regret buried in all he uncovers. Time had changed them, but in a way, they'd found solid ground to stand back on again, using the other as an anchoring point in a way to stay steady in the chaos of whatever new storm came their way. Squall gives the blonde's hand in his a firm squeeze, bringing it up as he turns at a slight angle to better face him. Sweat dries on his skin in an almost uncomfortable sensation, the breeze of the air chilling his skin in a way that makes him all the more aware of Seifer & how close he stands.

All of these feelings & thoughts whirl together, colliding into a cosmic bang that only furthers the seemingly long known knowledge that they were inevitable in a way. That no matter what would happen or what did, like magnets, he'd always be drawn to him as he was right back. Studying the bump of his knuckles, Squall gently traces over old scars, tiny nicks here & there that lacerate the top of his skin, smoothing along them as if that'd erase them cleanly. He feels the way delicate muscles shift beneath his skin, the way his bones move, feeling the distant pulse of a heartbeat, one that beat strongly in the protective cage of his chest.

❝ My life. ❞ He mumbles, tone kept lake-calm, whispered so softly it may as well have been the wind. Both hands now massage along the swordsman's larger one, fiddling now with the band resting along a finger, refusing to look up as he pushes himself to elaborate. To explain. His expression deepens, growing a bit gloomy as he continues to anxiously fiddle with the others hand, both a show of care for him, reverence loosely gifted & a way to ground himself from all the thoughts threatening to drift him away.

❝ You're practically my life at this point. Every step of it, you've been there. Always. ❞ He makes sure to speak the last word more firmly, some frustration peeking at himself as he finds the words he wants to say to better express what it is he feels elude him. But he can't drag things out. He needs to try. That's always been a trait of the other's that Squall's envied. The ability to so freely speak his mind without fear. While arrogant at times, he was confident. So sure of himself . . . a quiet laugh leaves him. Maybe a tad bit bitter, as he realizes it's no wonder he admired him. ❝ It's probably not that big of a stretch to say you helped make me who I am right now. You pushed me. You inspired me. ❞

Cradling a hand in his, the other slips down to massage at the other's wrist, still determined to stubbornly focus on anything other than the other's eyes. He needs it to focus on the blaringly loud silence that fills between his admissions.

❝ You're an ass, but I never had a problem with your attitude. It frustrated me at times when you pushed too hard, but that's just who you've always been. Loud, unafraid, unapologetic about who you always knew you were. You're so bright at times, you remind me of the sun. ❞ Squall's voice peters off, brows still knit together. It takes him a moment but he manages to lift his eyes up finally, following the trail of the other's arm, moving up the column of his neck until it rests on his lips.

❝ You asked me who you were to me. The answer . . . it's a lot. You're someone I can't imagine not being there. You've always been there in some way. You're so deeply engraved in everything I am with everything you've done — I don't know. ❞ Life felt fitting. Not the kind where everything revolved around him, but, his impact shaped everything he was in some way, big or small, it varied, but wasn't something even he could miss. When he does go to lift his eyes the last remaining bit, Squall hates how clearly the other's eyes pierce through him. He can't hide much from Seifer. Never could.

He always did know him as well as he knew himself at times. Maybe more.

Taking a step in, while there always would be a part of him that wanted to shrink away & hide whenever his more softened urges peeked free in an odd mix of shame & embarrassment, while he struggled with expressing more intimate interest because of his lack of it in his youth — he couldn't deny that with everything, he loved this man, loved him dearly. Enough to want to try. He did help him build those protective walls up once upon a time, it's only fitting that they came down for him.

❝ Childhood nuisance to bully. Sparring partner & rival. Enemy to friend. ❞ He latches onto the familiar spark he feels, letting it warm his chilled features enough to melt them through. A quirked lipped smile as he brings the hand up with a cheeky edge to it, he guides the hand still in his hold higher, the heat of each breath fanning along sun-loved skin as sea & earth meet. ❝ Fiancé. We came a long way. At this point, I'm pretty sure we're stuck together. If that wasn't clear enough, you don't have to wonder about what you are to me. I don't make connections easy. I don't like getting close to people if I can help it. But you've always been different. The one outlier. ❞

Pressing a kiss to the other's knuckles, he lets the hand slip back down as he speaks again.

❝ Seifer . . . You should know what you are to me. How much you mean. ❞

#╰┈➤ ┊❛ ANSWERED IC. ❜┊ #╰┈➤ ┊❛ INTERACTIONS. ❜┊ #REVEROMANTIQUE. / SEIFER ALMASY. #MUSE: [ SQUALL LEONHART. ] #➤ *𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒. ( SQUALL LEONHART ) post ff8 verse #❝ Memories penned in blood & fire. Ash & bone turned to sand. ❞ . [ REVEROMANTIQUE ] #Braced for the sunrise. Will you meet me where we both fell? [ ; ] SQUALL / SEIFER ➤〔 REVEROMANTIQUE 〕 #Longpost tw

[knightfeared]

*L O V E  Q U O T E S  I N B O X  M E M E. 📨 ➤   @reveromantique  [ ; ] I miss you so much it feels gross, it feels wet, it feels nauseating. I want to rip out my heart and shake it. -reveromantique for squall

𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐎 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒. More often then not, though commander, he was sent off in group missions — usually dangerous ones if he really pushed that required the extra manpower, the numbers like a security blanket in case he couldn't help contain whatever threat it was they were tasked with dispatching. They varied. Though . . . he supposes this one was more of a personal mission over one delegated by the Garden. Still, it was strange.

Not quite uneasy, but bordering close on the edge as he furrows his brows, trying & failing to get any shut eye as he rests on his side in the empty bed. Winhill wasn't as lively as Balamb, there wasn't always that ever present mechanical humming in the walls, the distant sounds of Garden staff patrolling the halls, of Cadet's moving between rooms & around the area outside of the dorms. There was always some form of noise present, something to distract, to anchor himself to in its unacknowledged familiarity.

None of that was here though. Still new territory, both in the place itself, & with him taking on the role of explorer outside of his usual duties. Part of him wishes he brought company under some false guise of possibly needing backup in case he'd run into trouble around the small village. But it's useless to think of what he could've done then. Though he does miss certain faces. He blames it on the isolating feeling of the room — on the fact he's feeling admittedly homesick despite his denying efforts. More idle thoughts continue to drift, falling lazy leaves in his mind, swaying & tossing, distracting enough he doesn't initially catch the buzzing of his phone on the bedside table.

A second one comes, the device lighting up the room, luring his foggy attention over. He fumbles a bit, opening the damned thing with a tired squint of his eyes as he tries to read the notifications. It's a message — one that he's not all that surprised to have gotten, but still, finds himself melting a bit at with a quiet snort. It wasn't often they weren't around one another these days. Not much had changed except he'd grown all the more aware of his presence, had come to crave it, adore him in his own way. Still new to expressing these kind of things, it always felt so easy, so natural with the stubborn blonde.

In typical Seifer fashion — he just brought it out of him. His tone in the text is mystifying — he somehow manages to grit his feelings out past clenched teeth, splaying them on open sleeves, while complaining as he does so — his tone, it translates eerily well through text, so much so, Squall swears he can hear him in his ear as he reads it back over mulling over whether or not to respond, how best to, mist-faint smile curling at his lips.

❝ Haven't even been gone that long . . . ❞ He mumbles, typing out as much before pausing. Humming, Squall continues, sending it off with a tiny grin.

That's feelings for you. But for what it's worth, I'll be back soon. I miss you too. . . . I think you'd like it here.

#╰┈➤ ┊❛ ANSWERED IC. ❜┊ #╰┈➤ ┊❛ INTERACTIONS. ❜┊ #REVEROMANTIQUE. / SEIFER ALMASY. #MUSE: [ SQUALL LEONHART. ] #➤ *𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒. ( SQUALL LEONHART ) post ff8 verse #❝ Memories penned in blood & fire. Ash & bone turned to sand. ❞ . [ REVEROMANTIQUE ] #Braced for the sunrise. Will you meet me where we both fell? [ ; ] SQUALL / SEIFER ➤〔 REVEROMANTIQUE 〕