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skaylanphear · 7 days

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Also, for those of you who are willing to read my original stuff or just like my stuff in general, my Final Fantasy VIII: Reclamation fic is being written as if it were an original novel, so if you ARE interested, you don't have to have played the original game to enjoy it. Just think of it as another novel by yours truly, lol.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55164193/chapters/140503501

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skaylanphear · 7 days

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Final Fantasy VIII: Reclamation

Summary: Squall Leonhart has known only one thing all his life—that he was born and raised to be a SeeD. But being an elite mercenary is no easy task. Having grown up sheltered beneath Balamb Garden’s ring, he soon finds himself scrambling to stay alive after his first real mission thrusts him and his teammates onto the political stage in a bad way. Forced to head out into the dangerous, unforgiving wilds or face execution, they find themselves unraveling the ancient mysteries of their world, all while another sorceress war looms on the horizon. Haunted by strange, unexplainable dreams about a man he doesn’t know, and bound to the might of the crystals by abilities he can’t explain, Squall finds himself walking blindly into an uncertain future, even as he’s assured that “fate” guides his every step.

Yet, as circumstances grow murkier, Squall can’t help feeling that everyone else knows more about everything—including himself—than he does, and that he’s nothing more than a pawn in a game he doesn’t know how to play.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Birds of a Feather

With little time to clean up before homeroom started, Squall scrubbed down only his cropped leather jacket and his black harness boots, once he'd arrived at his dorm room. He also exchanged his v-neck for another and his jeans for a pair of black pants. It took a bit longer to scrub the mud and blood from the fur collar that lined his jacket, but, thankfully, it was back to its normal silver-white once he'd finished.

Lastly, he went to the communal bathroom and, relieved he was mostly alone (he was cutting it rather close to the time homeroom started, thus no one was around), he leaned in over one of the sinks and, glaring into the mirror, poked at the bandage still stuck between his eyes.

There was no way he could keep it on during his field review—it hindered his vision.

Supposing there was nothing for it, Squall pushed his shaggy hair out of the way and, careful not to tug too harshly and cause himself to start bleeding, peeled the bandage away. Doing so did, admittedly, sting, the new scar throbbing as it was revealed to the open air.

It… didn't look great. Stretching diagonally from above his right brow and down between his eyes, it ended about halfway down his nose on the left side. With it being so fresh, it was swollen and red, the skin around the main mark puffy and discolored. Dr. Kadowaki had clearly used skin glue to try and seal it closed, hence why it felt so tight, but the shiny adhesive only made the cut all the more pronounced.

Leave it to Seifer to choose his face for such an attack and not literally any other part of his body. Oh well—not like he had a slew of beauty pageants lined up.

Glad it at least wasn't bleeding, Squall left it alone and headed out for homeroom. He only had ten minutes to get there, and so ended up sprinting across campus to the central building. Once inside, he jogged for the elevator situated at the center of the main floor and managed to slide inside with a group of students as the doors closed.

They were young cadets, some of them in uniform, some not, and they all fell quiet as a result of his presence. Staring up at him, one of them motioned between their eyes and whispered, while another audibly muttered, "I know him—he's that scary gunbade guy from the weapons presentation at the beginning of the year."

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skaylanphear · 14 days

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Final Fantasy VIII: Reclamation

Summary: Squall Leonhart has known only one thing all his life—that he was born and raised to be a SeeD. But being an elite mercenary is no easy task. Having grown up sheltered beneath Balamb Garden’s ring, he soon finds himself scrambling to stay alive after his first real mission thrusts him and his teammates onto the political stage in a bad way. Forced to head out into the dangerous, unforgiving wilds or face execution, they find themselves unraveling the ancient mysteries of their world, all while another sorceress war looms on the horizon. Haunted by strange, unexplainable dreams about a man he doesn’t know, and bound to the might of the crystals by abilities he can’t explain, Squall finds himself walking blindly into an uncertain future, even as he’s assured that “fate” guides his every step.

Yet, as circumstances grow murkier, Squall can’t help feeling that everyone else knows more about everything—including himself—than he does, and that he’s nothing more than a pawn in a game he doesn’t know how to play.

Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Eye for an Eye, Scar for a Scar

"C'mon, Squall." Stepping back, Seifer held his blade aloft and grinned. "Don't disappoint me now."

The same taunt as always, as if disappointment were expected. As usual, Seifer made a habit of needling emotional reactions out of his opponents. Or trying to, though his efforts were generally wasted on Squall.

"Unless you're scared," Seifer added.

Strictly speaking, they weren't allowed to use their real weapons when training one-on-one. Yet, neither Squall nor Seifer had much abided by that policy. They were deep enough in the training center that no one was likely to see them, surrounded by a steep hedge of boulders and masked by the heavy rain. It poured continually, soaking them through and leaving a glossy sheen in its wake.

Straight-faced and unbothered, Squall said nothing, glancing only quickly down at his practice sword before tossing it aside. It clattered, sliding through the mud and thwacking against a bordering rock.

He then reached out and, gripping his real sword by the handle, pulled it from where Seifer had impaled it in the ground. He must have swiped both their weapons from the armory before they'd met up—no one would have stopped him. Not because someone wouldn't have been manning the station, but because Seifer and Squall often trained together against the school's collection of carefully curated monsters, where weapons were allowed.

As the only two gunblade wielders in the school, most of the other students didn't bother questioning their outings, or even see any suspicion in Seifer checking out someone else's gunblade, clearly. Though doing so wasn't permitted, he'd succeeded, the fact that he was head of the disciplinary committee likely assisting. Harder to get in trouble if he was the one doling out punishments.

"Let's dance then," Seifer said lastly.

#reblog

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skaylanphear · 15 days

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“Glycerine”

Squall and Rinoa from Final Fantasy 8. Just a quiet moment between the emo Commander and his sorceress wifey. I love them so damn much 🖤

Title is from the song “Glycerine” by Bush.

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skaylanphear · 16 days

Text

Final Fantasy VIII: Reclamation

Summary: Squall Leonhart has known only one thing all his life—that he was born and raised to be a SeeD. But being an elite mercenary is no easy task. Having grown up sheltered beneath Balamb Garden’s ring, he soon finds himself scrambling to stay alive after his first real mission thrusts him and his teammates onto the political stage in a bad way. Forced to head out into the dangerous, unforgiving wilds or face execution, they find themselves unraveling the ancient mysteries of their world, all while another sorceress war looms on the horizon. Haunted by strange, unexplainable dreams about a man he doesn’t know, and bound to the might of the crystals by abilities he can’t explain, Squall finds himself walking blindly into an uncertain future, even as he’s assured that “fate” guides his every step.

Yet, as circumstances grow murkier, Squall can’t help feeling that everyone else knows more about everything—including himself—than he does, and that he’s nothing more than a pawn in a game he doesn’t know how to play.

Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Eye for an Eye, Scar for a Scar

"C'mon, Squall." Stepping back, Seifer held his blade aloft and grinned. "Don't disappoint me now."

The same taunt as always, as if disappointment were expected. As usual, Seifer made a habit of needling emotional reactions out of his opponents. Or trying to, though his efforts were generally wasted on Squall.

"Unless you're scared," Seifer added.

Strictly speaking, they weren't allowed to use their real weapons when training one-on-one. Yet, neither Squall nor Seifer had much abided by that policy. They were deep enough in the training center that no one was likely to see them, surrounded by a steep hedge of boulders and masked by the heavy rain. It poured continually, soaking them through and leaving a glossy sheen in its wake.

Straight-faced and unbothered, Squall said nothing, glancing only quickly down at his practice sword before tossing it aside. It clattered, sliding through the mud and thwacking against a bordering rock.

He then reached out and, gripping his real sword by the handle, pulled it from where Seifer had impaled it in the ground. He must have swiped both their weapons from the armory before they'd met up—no one would have stopped him. Not because someone wouldn't have been manning the station, but because Seifer and Squall often trained together against the school's collection of carefully curated monsters, where weapons were allowed.

As the only two gunblade wielders in the school, most of the other students didn't bother questioning their outings, or even see any suspicion in Seifer checking out someone else's gunblade, clearly. Though doing so wasn't permitted, he'd succeeded, the fact that he was head of the disciplinary committee likely assisting. Harder to get in trouble if he was the one doling out punishments.

"Let's dance then," Seifer said lastly.