Moving In
folder
Final Fantasy VIII › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
4
Views:
782
Reviews:
19
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Final Fantasy VIII › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
4
Views:
782
Reviews:
19
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Final Fantasy VIII, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Moving In
~Obligatory Statement~
This statement is a blanket statement for this and all subsequent chapters.
I don't own the characters, and I don't care to. That's a bucket of problems that ain't mine, palsy. The story is mine, but that's about it. Actually, that's about all I own in here- the style and the storyline/plot itself. The rest, all Squenix. There you have it. Now on to the story.
***
"Who the FUCK do you think you are?!" Seifer shouted as he slammed Zell into the wall, pinning him there. "Just who the FUCK do you think you are!?"
"Get your fucking hands OFF ME!" Zell shouted back, placing his hands firmly on Seifer's midriff and slamming him back. Seifer flew back two feet and landed on his feet, anger a pathetic way to describe the look on his face. "Who the fuck do you think YOU are, huh?!" Seifer's hand continued to search for his weapon, even though he knew he wasn't wearing it.
"I would slit your goddamned throat right now if-"
"If what!? You still had your weapon!?" Zell shouted, rage making the veins in his face stand forward. "Well you don't! So you're going to have to deal with something without rushing headlong into battle for once!"
"Coming from YOU?!" Seifer demanded. "Funny! Fucking... HILARIOUS!" He turned away from Zell for a moment and then turned back. "You know what?! Get the fuck out of my sight before I kill you with my fists!"
"Or TRY! You couldn't lay a fucking FINGER on me- did you forget who I am!? Did you forget who YOU are?! You probably haven't had a decent fight in YEARS!"
At that, Seifer fell silent. Zell wished he hadn't said what he had, but it was too late now, and Seifer deserved every *bit* of what he got. It didn't matter to him what *anyone* had said, even Squall- Seifer wasn't the victim. Seifer was the *enemy,* he always had been, and he always would be.
"Look," Seifer said quietly, the rage gone from him, "I'm going to go get my things, and you go get yours. We'll move our shit in and then you can do whatever the hell you want."
Zell watched Seifer for a moment and then took off at a fast jog, not wanting to see the look on Seifer's face any longer. While things had been building to a head between them for the past few months, Zell hadn't wanted it to end like this. He didn't know exactly *what* he wanted, but it wasn't *this*.
When Squall dragged Seifer back from Time Compression, it didn't seem like he was dragging much. Seifer was hardly anything more than a rag doll. One whose muscles and definitions had been the same as that of a ruthless, powerful mercenary, but there was so little life in the man Squall carried. And Zell had almost found himself wishing there was none.
While Zell didn't really wish him *dead*, he wished Seifer so far away from him he might as well be. As far back as Zell's new memories reached, there was always Seifer, taunting, challenging, mocking. And the more he thought about Seifer, the angrier he became. It didn't matter if it was just Seifer's way of being "tough". It didn't matter if there were reasons for all of them- every last one of them- being fucked up. The way Zell saw it, excuses weren’t enough to cover Seifer.
It seemed that Seifer had gone right back to jeering and taunting Zell every time they saw each other in the halls. Even though there were dark rings under his eyes, and he was steadily losing a lot of weight, he was still the same old Seifer. And Zell could *not* stand him.
Especially not now.
So he'd blown up. And they'd gotten into a fight. A good, old, honest-to-Hyne fight. Zell hadn't fought like that since the battle with Ultimecia. Sure, there was an unmistakable lack of strength in Seifer's swing, and that only infuriated Zell more. Why would Seifer hold back, unless he thought Zell was still a weakling.
The fight had gotten them sent to Cid's office. And there were a lot of things Cid would let slide, but fighting in the halls was not one of them- so he administered the Garden's typical punishment; a suspension of weapons and offensive magics. And because Zell and Seifer were among "Cid's own particular children," they were also punished by *him*.
They were going to 'live in a student single until they could survive one another.' -It actually said that on the slip Zell got!
He tromped back to his apartment to retrieve his things. And while he thought about slipping on a pair of practice gloves, he knew that would only get him in *extra* trouble. So he merely packed everything into his two packs and gathered his wits about himself. How could he live with the single, biggest problem he'd had all of his life?
***
I'm back. Fuck the people who said I was "plagiarizing". Let 'em *whine*.
Mostly it was just a kick to the ego that anyone would ever think I could do that stuff, so I sort of become a recluse for a while. But now I'm back! *throws confetti* If anyone wants a copy of any of my old stories, e-mail me, and we'll talk. Otherwise, I'm pretty sure they won't come back (unless I feel like writing on Swan Prince). All right! Thanks!
Lion
This statement is a blanket statement for this and all subsequent chapters.
I don't own the characters, and I don't care to. That's a bucket of problems that ain't mine, palsy. The story is mine, but that's about it. Actually, that's about all I own in here- the style and the storyline/plot itself. The rest, all Squenix. There you have it. Now on to the story.
***
"Who the FUCK do you think you are?!" Seifer shouted as he slammed Zell into the wall, pinning him there. "Just who the FUCK do you think you are!?"
"Get your fucking hands OFF ME!" Zell shouted back, placing his hands firmly on Seifer's midriff and slamming him back. Seifer flew back two feet and landed on his feet, anger a pathetic way to describe the look on his face. "Who the fuck do you think YOU are, huh?!" Seifer's hand continued to search for his weapon, even though he knew he wasn't wearing it.
"I would slit your goddamned throat right now if-"
"If what!? You still had your weapon!?" Zell shouted, rage making the veins in his face stand forward. "Well you don't! So you're going to have to deal with something without rushing headlong into battle for once!"
"Coming from YOU?!" Seifer demanded. "Funny! Fucking... HILARIOUS!" He turned away from Zell for a moment and then turned back. "You know what?! Get the fuck out of my sight before I kill you with my fists!"
"Or TRY! You couldn't lay a fucking FINGER on me- did you forget who I am!? Did you forget who YOU are?! You probably haven't had a decent fight in YEARS!"
At that, Seifer fell silent. Zell wished he hadn't said what he had, but it was too late now, and Seifer deserved every *bit* of what he got. It didn't matter to him what *anyone* had said, even Squall- Seifer wasn't the victim. Seifer was the *enemy,* he always had been, and he always would be.
"Look," Seifer said quietly, the rage gone from him, "I'm going to go get my things, and you go get yours. We'll move our shit in and then you can do whatever the hell you want."
Zell watched Seifer for a moment and then took off at a fast jog, not wanting to see the look on Seifer's face any longer. While things had been building to a head between them for the past few months, Zell hadn't wanted it to end like this. He didn't know exactly *what* he wanted, but it wasn't *this*.
When Squall dragged Seifer back from Time Compression, it didn't seem like he was dragging much. Seifer was hardly anything more than a rag doll. One whose muscles and definitions had been the same as that of a ruthless, powerful mercenary, but there was so little life in the man Squall carried. And Zell had almost found himself wishing there was none.
While Zell didn't really wish him *dead*, he wished Seifer so far away from him he might as well be. As far back as Zell's new memories reached, there was always Seifer, taunting, challenging, mocking. And the more he thought about Seifer, the angrier he became. It didn't matter if it was just Seifer's way of being "tough". It didn't matter if there were reasons for all of them- every last one of them- being fucked up. The way Zell saw it, excuses weren’t enough to cover Seifer.
It seemed that Seifer had gone right back to jeering and taunting Zell every time they saw each other in the halls. Even though there were dark rings under his eyes, and he was steadily losing a lot of weight, he was still the same old Seifer. And Zell could *not* stand him.
Especially not now.
So he'd blown up. And they'd gotten into a fight. A good, old, honest-to-Hyne fight. Zell hadn't fought like that since the battle with Ultimecia. Sure, there was an unmistakable lack of strength in Seifer's swing, and that only infuriated Zell more. Why would Seifer hold back, unless he thought Zell was still a weakling.
The fight had gotten them sent to Cid's office. And there were a lot of things Cid would let slide, but fighting in the halls was not one of them- so he administered the Garden's typical punishment; a suspension of weapons and offensive magics. And because Zell and Seifer were among "Cid's own particular children," they were also punished by *him*.
They were going to 'live in a student single until they could survive one another.' -It actually said that on the slip Zell got!
He tromped back to his apartment to retrieve his things. And while he thought about slipping on a pair of practice gloves, he knew that would only get him in *extra* trouble. So he merely packed everything into his two packs and gathered his wits about himself. How could he live with the single, biggest problem he'd had all of his life?
***
I'm back. Fuck the people who said I was "plagiarizing". Let 'em *whine*.
Mostly it was just a kick to the ego that anyone would ever think I could do that stuff, so I sort of become a recluse for a while. But now I'm back! *throws confetti* If anyone wants a copy of any of my old stories, e-mail me, and we'll talk. Otherwise, I'm pretty sure they won't come back (unless I feel like writing on Swan Prince). All right! Thanks!
Lion