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#as much as i am living for blonde!rinoa
squinoas · 4 years
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PICK YOUR FIGHTER: RINOA HEARTILLY EDITION
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what’s one thing you really want or wanted to write, but haven’t / can’t?
Haven't?
12/13 Akuroku week one shots
WITHOUT FALSE HOPE. You don't know how much I love that story in my head and yet there's only one chapter so far
The rest of the WIPs Give It Form, Advantage Rule, Sometimes the Lesson Is
I am failing
Somewhere in between Haven't and Can't
Axel's Moving Castle. I definitely should not have another WIP. It makes me look like a clown and it will be another thing I update too infrequently and feel like I let people down on....but I'm definitely going to do this
Can't
Kingdom Hearts Phantom of the Opera AU, but instead of playing it 1 to 1, it's a modern/real world/University au with an ambitious theatre department at Radiant Garden University putting on Webber's Phantom where Vanitas is playing the Phantom, Naminé playing Christine, and Riku is playing Raol. This is Riku's first major role and he shifts between cocky and nervous. Vanitas is abrasive but talented as you would expect. He's been cast in a lot of shows despite being difficult...and he's actually not that difficult this time around, comparatively. He started off obnoxious but Riku stood up to him early off in rehearsals and instead of raising hell, Vanitas took a shine to him and has been even giving him tips instead of complaining about working with an amateur. Enter Sora, childhood friend of Riku and Kairi and a new transfer this semester who is working on tech/a stagehand/etc. who Riku is overjoyed to see and who sees Riku perform once and becomes smitten. And thus the true Phantom of the Opera AU starts. In the background Organization XIII members are all different arts majors across different areas (theatre, dance, music, photography) all working on this joint senior project or MFA student showcase for the end of the year ( and younger students roped into assisting with it in Roxas and Zion's case). It's some kind of performance art showcase...people think....Nobody on the outside knows what is being planned, just that there keep being these strange self advertisements on social media of like Xemnas holding a hyper realistic bloody heart paired with an audio file of angry sitar music from Demyx, and then next time it's Axel and Saix dancing in front of a full moon while ice cream falls from the sky and then a date at the end that just says "Meet the Organization. Regain your heart." And everyone is too scared to ask what the hell they are planning. It's just known that it's their combined magnum opus and now there's drama because some of them are involved in the play when before they had agreed no mainstage performances this semester because they need to Focus on The Organization (and also personal drama because Axel is rumored to  be seeing a certain little blonde freshman and forgot to let Saix know that they were broken up for good this time before going after Roxas).
Final Fantasy VIII AU where Seifer passed the SeeD field exam and Squall didn’t and it makes all the difference. At the time where they are deciding to defy orders, instead of waiting for Seifer to lead the way and letting it fall on him, Squall runs out first or maybe the mission unfolds the same way but Squall just gets a case of stupid, stubborn noble later when Seifer is taking the brunt of what really was a group decision (and the right call still in Squall’s mind) even if Seifer was “squad leader” for the exercise. and especially when it goes too far (Xu telling Seifer ”You’ll never be a SeeD. Calling yourself a captain is a joke.” anyone?)  and starts talking back and being insubordinate in front of other people to the point where it can’t be ignored even if he is a favorite. Seifer is passed because SeeD still wants/was promised a gunblade specialist. Squall isn’t at the ball and thus doesn’t meet Rinoa. Instead Rinoa and Seifer meet up like their plan was, and, following Seifer gets assigned the mission with the Forest Owls of Timber. Squall doesn’t have the same motivation to chase after that Seifer did, so where does it go from there? Does less change than you would first think and Seifer still fall under Edea’s thrall? Does someone else? Does Seifer get to be the hero of the story? Is Squall still experiencing Laguna flashbacks while stuck in Garden? Where do these paths go?
Hayner meets Ventus and sees a second bonus Roxas, this one unattached. So he tries to woo Ventus like he would Roxas and fails miserably. He has to learn what Ventus actually likes and who he is, and in the process of "learning to cheat the system" he falls for Ventus, though just when he's starting to get Ventus to trust him/fall for him, then Ventus ends up as a history professor at Twilight Town University, teaching a class on the First Keyblade War (who better the teach history than someone who lived through it) since TT has progressed to being fully aware of the larger universe post KH3 in this au. Dr. Laurium Villiers was supposed to teach, but he had to back out and Ventus took over. Hayner was already signed up and is convinced not to drop a history credit he needs just for a chance to get with Ventus. I am not entirely sure where this was going after this point. I...combined a few story ideas while rambling about Ventus and Hayner one night. 
See you in the next life story of Axel and Roxas as Balamb Garden SeeDs in the background of FFVIII. No long explanation here. I just have some FFVIII feelings...you may have noticed them.
Story where KH1 era Sora and Dark Road prologue Xehanort step through the door and the portal respectively when taunted by time travleing brown cloak Ansem,and somehow end up in each other's places. Sora ends up studying at Scala in the past and ends up befriending and possibly dating Eraqus--they encourage each other's impulsiveness and other bad habits and are complete disasters together. Dark Road's search for the missing keyblade students plays out very differently. Meanwhile, Xehanort is stuck in a future that keeps changing as Sora changes the past and having a bad time of it as Riku and Kairi really don't take to him like Eraqus took to Sora. In fact Riku blames him for Sora being missing (while he still remembers Sora) and is an active annoyance. I can't write this, not just because NO MORE WIPS but because there's not enough of canon Dark Road out yet to make an effective skewed timeline.
Probably more stuff to be honest. But this is everything currently tied for first place in my mind at the moment.
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FINAL FANTASY VIII - VERSE | H O M E C O M I N G
Tag: .H O M E C O M I N G verse
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@dogof-war:
[ Message sent from ANON / Seifer ] : I know who you are, I know that you're out there. You have sympathisers. I can help you - meet me west of Galbadia Train Station. You can send scouts should you not trust this message, however, I am one person. I promise to help.
A gust of wind rushed through the lush canopy of trees above, rustling the leaves and bushes around, sounds mixing in with the soft burbling of the Obel Lake. The all-encompassing tranquility had only just been disturbed by the sound of a message received by phone, stirring the figure sitting with his back to a tree out of his reverie. Procuring the obtrusive object from the pocket of his light grey leather jacket, the tall blond flicked his thumb to unlock it, seeing the message received from an unknown sender.
Brow furrowing slightly, the man read it again. And again. Feeling the prickling of paranoia in the back of his head, jade-green eyes flicked over the clearing, assessing the safety of his current position. A habit well-groomed over the past years he had been living on the run from practically the entire world.
You have sympathizers.
At that, he could not help but snort dismissively, the statement too improbable given what he had done. Who could sympathize with someone starting a World War? The Second Sorceress War, at that. Causing a Lunar Cry which's impact had hit Esthar hard and had resulted in a massive loss of life. And his deeds, or rather, crimes didn't end there. Did he even want to know what kind of person would think of this as agreeable?
Letting a sigh slip from his lips, Seifer Almasy pocketed his phone again, pressing himself off the ground and brushing dirt from his black pants. They had seen better days, as had all of him. There was some wear and tear to be spotted, although he made a point of keeping himself clean and well-groomed to the best of his abilities, procuring new items of clothing whenever necessary. His travels, for lack of a better word, had brought him all over the world, uncovering the best hideouts far away from people as well as ramshackle towns where no one asked questions when he needed a job as a sword for hire, mercenary work, or whatever else would earn him some Gil and give him the luxury of a bathroom and bed.
As chance would have it, he was currently on his way to one such town, residing close to the Obel River in the south of Yaulny Canyon. And heading there would lead him to the Monterosa Plateau, close enough to the train station mentioned in the text. Shouldering his duffle bag now and making to continue his path through the forest close to the lake, he mulled over the options he had and the off-chance that someone actually wanted to help him. Hyne knew he could use it.
Although there was a definite threat of it being a trap, for all he knew people were still after him despite his laying low as much as he could. There had been no one to be held accountable for what had transpired, Deling being killed by Ultimicia right at the start of everything and the witches gone - well, almost all of them at least. As far as he knew, Rinoa was still alive and kicking, protected by his rival, their Garden friends, and the Commander of Galbadia.
So his thoughts went as he made his way along Obel Lake, reaching the river to it’s north at sundown. The nearby caves offered both shelter and enough space to hide from inquisitive eyes, and he made his camp there, forgoing a fire just in case whoever had contacted him was already on the lookout.
As morning came, he continued his path, cursing the fact he had to steer clear of any means of transportation as much as possible. Too dangerous. When the sun rose to its zenith, Seifer had reached a hill providing him a vantage point to overlook the Monterosa Plateau area in which the train station resided, eyes peeled for anything suspicious. He could at least give it a try and see what would await him should he decide to head down there.
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nibelheimraised · 4 years
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@onepartbrave
Squall didn’t sleep well. Having gotten used to sharing a wonderfully warm bed with people he loves, camping out on the couch while being riddled with guilt didn’t quite cut it. Draped over his shoulders was a blanket that smelt of Cloud – soft, warm, home – but it helped none. Nothing could replace the real deal and since he’d been too ashamed to join them last night, sleepy was fleeting. However, staring at the muted TV screen for hours on end gave him time to reflect on how dreadful his behaviour had been.
If he were still an antisocial, anti-emotional teenager, perhaps it would’ve been understandable (yet not acceptable still). As it was, being a legal adult in all senses now offered him little leeway when it came to excuses. He just… wouldn’t stop. Even after spotting the signs that Cloud was getting (more) frustrated with him and his ludicrous game, he’d continued. Grimacing, the low light of the TV showed the vexation he felt for himself. What if someone did that to him? He’d have retaliated far worse than storming off and granting the most epic cold shoulder. Sighing, he buried his head against his folded arms, propped up on the couch armrest.
Obviously, he spent most of the night pondering methods of apologising. His snide inner voice suggested to get off his high horse and just say ‘sorry’, but words meant little to someone like Cloud in situations like his. Actions helped – he’d started off right by returning the stolen key – but what was tolerable presently evaded Squall’s knowledge. After all, what could he do after not only thieving one of Cloud’s prized possessions for a game, downplayed the reasonable feelings of concept when they were expressed and only apologised after Seifer, of all people, pointed out how much of a dick move it was? 
…Shit. He was still reeling over the fact Seifer chided him. Guess we came full circle. Worse still, he’d involved Rinoa. With how protective she was of him, it only stirred the already rattled pot. Safe to say, it wasn’t one of his smoothest moves to date. …I need to do something. 
Determination set, he yanked himself out of his wallowing attitude and took charge over his mistake. Not yet ready to be stripped of the comfort the blanket held, he grabbed an opposite corner in each hand and tied it loosely about his waist. Thankful for his stature ensuring the blanket doesn’t drag, he headed for the kitchen, conscious ploughing through several loose ideas of what he could make for an apology breakfast. Wait… no. Breakfast was too tame, incredibly lame, and something he made on the daily; he needed something grandiose to prove his point. Pancakes and waffles swapped for luxury cakes and too-sweet treats in his suggestions. Indecision made him pause near the freezer, a frown encasing his features. …Ice cream? He’s never rejected any of mine before. …First time for everything, I suppose. 
Decision made, Squall bustled around with uncontrolled haste, pulling together random concoctions he figured might work (and didn’t), until he settled on a creamy mix of strawberry and vanilla ice cream, topped with strawberries and raspberry sauce and some added starry sprinkles for a little bling. Unsure on whether chocolate flakes would be overkill, he left them to one side instead, studying his creation in distressing silence. …This won’t work. Insecurity building, he sighed and clapped a hand to his forehead. What am I doing? It’s fucking 4am. Cloud wouldn’t wake for hours should his sleeping schedule not be interrupted. The treat was pointless and would melt before the blond got the opportunity to lay his eyes on it.
Unless… Uncertain eyes cast a glance along the hallway to where the bedroom door was closed. I wake him?
Clarity hit like a brick and all of a sudden, rousing the possibly slumbering mercenary seemed like the best approach. Nodding idly a few times, Squall collected the serving tray with the bowl of ice cream and extras on and made his way to his final destination. Padding silently along the hall, he halted only to carefully open the door with his elbow and persevered into the dark room. Squinting at the intense loss of vision, he shuffled around the room until his foot met the bedframe, to which he cautiously clambered on. Then sitting cross-legged on the end, he placed the peace offering on the mattress beside him and probing hands sought out a body piece belonging to Cloud. After finding it – felt like a knee – he jostled Cloud with firmer shakes, motivation to try and settle the dust winning over self-preservation.
“Cloud? Cloud, I– I’m sorry. About Fenrir and – uh, being an asshole in general.” A pause in which it was still undetermined whether he was talking to himself or not, and then he continued, “I made you ice cream. I know it’s early ‘n all but it’ll melt if you don’t have it now…” 
After the whole ordeal with Fenrir, Cloud hadn’t had the energy to interact with anyone, keeping to himself within the confines of their room. For better or for worse, the other two didn’t come in, either equally pissed at him or just done with dealing with him. The latter of the two hurt, but like hell was he going to seek either of them out, too stubborn in his vindication. 
Because really, how was he expected to react to being knocked out only to come to with his keys gone. They could have asked, could have dealt with him questioning their intentions. Not ambushed and then taunted in his own home of all places! Not to mention, the man, Seifer, close to a complete stranger had been the one to stick up for him and knock some sense into them... The very thought only solidified his stance, opting to go to bed early instead of laying awake to sulk.
Rest had been difficult to achieve though, laying in the dark only to hear footsteps outside or the occasional shuffling that indicated someone was still in the apartment. He’d wondered if Rinoa had stayed over, if the two had camped out in her room instead. The thought only fed his bitterness, pulling the covers over his head and grumbling to himself about traitors. 
Once more, he found the punishment he’d given turned on him. They had each other, while he only had pillows and blankets and the occasional stuffed animal he shunned with its scent reminiscent of Rinoa’s scent. Even Squall’s pillow had ended up on the ground, having the same problem. He hated this, how lonely one night felt without the man there with him, how accustomed he’d grown to sharing a bed. Sleep came much more easier this way. By himself, he can only find rest around 2 in the morning.
His slumber is light though, eyes falling open briefly when he hears the door click open only to squeeze shut as if to will the intruder away. He’s halfway back to sleep when a sudden shake of his knee stirs him, Cloud groaning under the covers and pulling his leg up against his chest as he curls into himself. The momentary peace is short-lived as a sudden voice calls his name, gripping a pillow as he readies to throw it at the intruder. It never comes to be though, his mind distantly recognizing Squall’s voice. Squall? He’s apologizing.
With a grunt of effort, he pulls the covers off his head, glancing over at the other where he sat cross-legged. He has no idea what time it is, but it’s damn early enough that the sun isn’t even up. Why? Why did Squall decide to have a conscious before noon?
Forcing himself to sit up, he tosses the man a glare, annoyed at both being awoken and still holding onto some residual bitterness from earlier. Still, it’s hard to remain stubborn with the other’s apology and offer. Not to mention the look Squall’s giving him. Those eyes, did they have to linger on him like that. Did the guy really need to look so endearing when he’s apologizing after a wrong?
He sighs, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head before his eyes fall to the peace offering. The man really had made a tantalizing sundae for him at an ungodly hour. “...You’re something, y’know that?,” he mumbles, clearing grogginess from his throat as he finally sits up fully and grabs for the other. Fingers curl and grip at the other’s shirt, yanking him forward just enough to press a quick kiss to his cheek. 
Without so much as a warning, his hands move to grip the other’s sides, moving him effortlessly so Squall’s back is pressed against the bed’s headboard. He doesn’t give the man a chance to ask questions before he’s scooting back against him, claiming a spot between his legs as he drags the sundae closer. Back to Squall’s chest, he’s finally comfortable enough to let out a content sigh, setting the sundae on his lap before tossing the other a look. “...Help me finish this so we can go back to sleep... And don’t do it again,” he grumbles the last bit, not wanting to make it sound like he was letting the man off so easily. “...Just ask next time...”
Rather than wait for an answer, he goes ahead and tries the procured late night treat, the pout on his lips subsiding when he tastes the sweet mix of strawberries and sprinkles in his first bite. He sighs again, pressing his lips together to keep a smile from spreading on his lips. “You-...,” he starts but doesn’t finish as he tilts his head back against the other instead. It’s infuriating. How the man can upset him, yet soothe him with just as little effort. It was awful, yet he loved it. 
No, he loved Squall.
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