Wishful Thinking

feiye @ 2008-05-04T12:22:00

2008-05-04T02:24:51Z

Hi.

This used to be my ficcage LJ. At times it still is, but for the most part I've stopped writing due to time restraints and real life making its ugly presence known. Feel free to unfriend/friend as you damn well please.

I have another personal LJ which sad to say, has become less personal as of late.

I've moved most thoughts and other ranty stuff to souveran, which will house hopefully more day-to-day stuff. =)

[FIC](FE7) Dearest Serra

2004-12-23T02:31:36Z

3rd Christmas Wishfic (Simple Love Story was completed and delivered to Jens personally. It is not archived here although if anyone is really interested in it...I suppose, ask me)

TITLE: Dearest Serra
AUTHOR: Sharyn
SERIES: Fire Emblem 7 - Rekka no Ken
RATING: G
WARNINGS: Disturbing content in that wierd humour-ish way I'm so fond of
PAIRINGS: Secret ^.~
LENGTH: ~500 words
ARCHIVING: My LJ and FFnet, others please ask.
SUMMARY: ‘Dear Serra, I have always admired your poise and grace…’

DISCLAIMER: Fire Emblem 7 is copyright of Nintendo 2003, I make no claims to any of the characters, only to their interactions in this piece. If I actually owned FE7, Legault would be gayer than Aziraphale and Serra would be a minion of Nergal.

DEDICATION: For Jia. Just because. Wishfic request elements were: a short Serra-centric fic, humour and involves dolls.

<><><>

Dearest Serra

<><><>

To my Dearest Lady Serra,

I make no secret of my admiration of you, I see no reason to do so as you are not only the most beautiful lady I have ever had the fortune of coming across but also the most brave and intelligent and cunning. Of course, words fall short of the depth of emotion within me but alas, I must settle with what I can muster up.

Your beauty has captivated so many, you see how that knave Sain stares at you? With that look of barely concealed lust as if he wishes to pounce at any moment. I feel as if he is unworthy of you since he is unable to appreciate to the fullest your qualities apart from the notable one known as heart-binding beauty.

Your bravery has enthralled even Oswin, who not only worries for your wellbeing but respects you for your fierce determination and your calmness in battle. After all, as all intelligent participants in a war know, the best way to survive is to escape. If that isn’t possible, use someone else to shield yourself.

Your intelligence and cunning have kept Erk and Matthew by your side, willing to cater to your wishes, demands and the occasional wistful longing. See how Matthew agrees with you when you speak of Hector’s miserly nature, see how Erk refuses to leave you, desperate to keep your fledgling existence alive, well and breathing.

I have always admired your poise and grace and no doubt you and your numerous admirers are aware of it, but it has come to my attention that at your age, dolls should not be an accessory with which you are that fond of. Dolls are childish implements of…for lack of a better description, destruction. Mass destruction. You have been told and taught since you entered St. Elimine’s service that only dark arts practitioners should have a passing impartiality to dolls. Yet you…you shame me.

And no matter how hard you deny it, you do not need dolls to test your hairstyles. After all, in a war no one particularly cares which is the prettiest corpse. You do not need dolls to test your healing skills for they have no life force of their own and your healing skills are definitely of the highest calibre simply because you, my dear beautiful, charming, magnificent Serra, are you. And you do NOT need dolls to be your personal confessors. After all you have me. And who understands you better than me?

I hope you understand that my being harsh with you is only for your own benefit and that you may take into consideration my feelings before you start crying.

Love,

Yourself, Serra

PS. Please remember to cleanse skin thoroughly and exfoliate after you have cried.

PPS. Please remember not to chuck this out as it may be useful in the future.

PPPS. Please remember not to show any one else as others may think I am somewhat strange.

<><><>

A/N: That was really strange. Even for me. C&C always welcome. And yes, I really do like Serra.

--Sharyn

Current Projects (plus fanart!)

2004-12-13T22:29:09Z

In case anyone was interested, although this is more as a reference for myself. My current projects are:

1) Christmas fic for Jia who requested a short Serra-centric fic, humour and involving dolls.
FANDOM: Fire Emblem 7
STATUS: 1/2 done
PRIORITY: High

2) Christmas giftfic for Eva Kasumi since on her LJ she requested fics with pairing Matthew/Guy.
FANDOM: FE7 (and here I said I wasn't going to write anymore FE fics *mutter*)
STATUS: Planning stage
PRIORITY: High

3) Sequel to Silent Observers which involves the infamous tree scene which Jia has been ranting about ever since I told her my ideas for the fic.
FANDOM: FE7
STATUS: 1/3 done and edited, rest semi-planned
PRIORITY: V. High since Jia will bite my head off if I don't finish it.

4) My MAR fic, Nanashi/everyone, which is currently on hiatus since Loco refuses to cooperate.
FANDOM: MAR
STATUS: 1/4 written, planned.
PRIORITY: Medium

5) Jiaos' Christmas fic, involving herself and a bunny. =S Why me?
FANDOM: Original
STATUS: Currently thinking about it.
PRIORITY: High

6) Importance of Being Sane, no I haven't forgotten about this, I'm just rewriting a lot of it since my old writing style annoys me. And I don't like my original plot. Which reminds me: is anyone interested in being a plot-beta for me, just for this story. Please email me (email on info page) with your details and what you can help me with etc.
FANDOM: FE7
STATUS: 2 parts posted being re-written. Interlude done, 3rd part planned. 2nd arc in middle of planning.
PRIORITY: Medium-Low

7) Gungrave summary. Not technically a fic, but I've just seen the anime and HAVE to write about it. And oggle Brandon some more.
FANDOM: Gungrave
STATUS: 1/3 written
PRIORITY: High (so that I can get on with my other goddamn stuff)

8) Mirror Shards, ha! I looked at my original plans for this story the other day, and I say ha! I had a Mary Sue-ish character in a story that (when I look at it now) was made for yaoi. How naive I was back then.
FANDOM: Ayashi no Ceres (shameful, yes)
STATUS: 3 parts written, 24 planned (gawd I was ambitious), will possibly rewrite since Wei/Yuuhi so slashable.
PRIORITY: Low

9) A Simple Love Story, my Christmas fic for Jens.
FANDOM: Original
STATUS: Written, being edited.
PRIORITY: V. High

10) My Harry Potter *hides somewhere* fic. It seemed like such a good idea with such detailed magic theory involved at the time I planned it. Now it seems a bit bland.
FANDOM: Harry Potter
STATUS: Planned, prologue written
PRIORITY: Medium-Low (since I really want to write it still!)

11) My LJ profile. Since it's so boring at the moment and it irks me.
FANDOM: Me. So nerr.
STATUS: Thought about? Huh? What was that again?
PRIORITY: V. V. High

And that's about it. Obviously I have a lot to do and because I am lazy and slow...it will take me forever. But I'm trying. Christmas fics will be done very quickly though. So my offer to write Christmas giftfics is still open, just comment on any of my posts with what fandom, pairing, genre and a plotbunny (like a sentence) and I'll get back to you on it. Before Christmas is over or you can poke me with as many arms as you own.

PS. Plot-beta may be needed for Importance of Being Sane and a few other fics. Preferably someone who roams the same fandoms I do, who has knowledge of different series and has ideas to spare. Email me to discuss further.

PPS. Biting my nails as the agonising wait until Friday continues. HSC exam marks come out that day, UAI comes out on Saturday which determines my future uni course et al., ie. everything. Hoping I didn't do that badly. *cringe*

PPPS. I hope Jia doesn't kill me for this (will remember to ask her later) but she did a quick piece of fanart for my fic Eyes on You, Me and Him. So um yes, it's of the infamous 'Sale of Services' scene. Find it: Here. Please comment and I'll be sure to pass it on to her. ^^

[FIC](FE7) First Taste of Evil

2004-12-07T17:00:10Z

1st Christmas Wishfic done!

TITLE: First Taste of Evil
AUTHOR: Sharyn
SERIES: Fire Emblem 7 - Rekka no Ken
RATING: R
WARNINGS: Yaoi, angst
PAIRINGS: Erk/Wil
LENGTH: ~1500 words
ARCHIVING: The R-version at my LJ (http://www.livejournal.com/~feiye) and the censored PG-version at FFnet (http://www.fanfiction.net/~sharyn), others please ask.
SUMMARY: See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil and do no evil.</p>

DEDICATION: For R Amythest, since it is Christmas and I love Christmas gifts, whether it is receiving or giving. She requested a wishfic (at which I felt like banging my head against something hard when I found out what she had in store for me) which was an Erk/Wil pairing, something happens due to a glass window, and it had to be angst/romance. Hope you like, Merry Christmas Ammie! And btw, I’ve decided to name this ‘ship: Crack-shipping, because of my predictable reaction to the pairing and if I were to write this pairing humorously, Wil would sound as if he were on crack. Hell, he already sounds as if he’s on crack in this fic.

A/N: PLEASE READ! I’ve made a few assumptions in this fic. Firstly, is that Wil’s village in Pherae, and Caelin in general, sees very little magic and because of this, magic is slightly taboo (after all, absolutely NO magic users come from Caelin or Pherae). Secondly, the incidents in this fic happen in Lyn’s story. That makes the sole offensive magic user to be Erk, until Lucius comes along but his presence isn’t important for this fic. Also, you will notice that there are two ratings on this fic, the version on FFnet is the PG version whilst the uncensored version is at my LJ (user ‘feiye’).

<><><>

First Taste of Evil

<><><>

When Wil stares out of the window, it is an obscene sight.

He leans against the glass as if trying to merge with the transparent surface. He leans so close that from outside, his face is a distorted image with too much skin and too little detail. People have long ceased to tell him off for this, they are accustomed to find him like this. He rushes to the nearest window when a flash of colour catches his attention, a flash of colour that is alive.

When he suspects there is magic nearby.

~~~

See no evil.

~~~

In my earliest memories, I remember my fascination with colours, bright vibrant colours. I would obsess over each new shade the village artist developed so much that he painted a canvas of colours for me. I was four.

It was my favourite possession, something I poured hours of time and devotion to, fingertips tracing over the gradients as I found yet another colour I hadn’t noticed before. It only took me three months before I had memorised each colour and one month after that before I went to the artist again.

“Wil!” he had said, pointing a dripping paintbrush my way, “Go find something else to do! You’re a growing lad and you should be outside playing, not having some obsessive-compulsive desire over colours!”

I took the advice of the artist with me, despite not understanding what ‘obsessive-compulsive’ implied at the time, and dedicated my time to learning archery. My father sighed in relief as he realised I no longer spent each evening poring over the canvas of colours and that it spent the night under my bed rather than in it.

I was nine when I saw new colours.

They appeared from seemingly nowhere and grew in brilliance before disappearing far too quickly. There were so many shades, I could spend years studying and memorising each of those colours. What was only better was that each time they appeared, no colour would ever be repeated.

“What is it?” I had asked in a voice that quivered with excitement.

“Wil, my boy,” father had pulled me aside with concern and said with an urgency that sent a tingle down my spine, “that’s magic.”

Magic, the word sent ripples of fear through the village but to me, the forbidden appeal made it even more alluring.

~~~

Hear no evil.

~~~

I first knew he was watching me when I heard the whoosh of a wayward arrow pass by me – too far from its intended target, too close to me for comfort, a twisted caress in its own right. I spared a glance at the archer, only to find his usual happy and clueless demeanor completely shattered as he just stared at me. No, not at me…

At my hands. Or more specifically, at the magic that was forming in them.

He was unable to withhold the gasp that was wrenched from him each time I called upon nature’s forces of fire and thunder. His bow would remain slack in his grasp and he just stood in the middle of a battlefield watching. It annoyed me to see him be so frivolous in the middle of a battle. Even if I did like the admiration in his eyes.</p>

“Focus!” I yelled at him when I moved next to him and fried the opponent that he had no chance of beating because his attention was focused elsewhere.

“Oh…sorry…I just,” he shook his head and smiled before letting loose an arrow behind him without breaking eye contact.

The reverberating thrumming of his bow hadn’t yet faded when a pained splutter sounded in its wake, and a body fell – an arrow impaled in its throat.

~~~

Speak no evil.

~~~

“There’s nothing wrong with using magic.”

“No one in my village ever spoke about it. They all were so frightened at the mention of it.”

“What’s the difference between killing with the weapon in your hands and using magic to do it?”

“But…”

“The only difference is that I don’t ever get any blood on my hands.”

“Erk! That’s not fair!”

“Neither is your assumption that magic is evil.”

“It’s just that everyone has been saying, or implying that. What else am I supposed to believe?”

“Don’t believe it, Wil.”

“All I really know…is that you create such lovely colours…”

“Wil?”

“Could you…show me?”

~~~

Do no evil.

~~~

The first time they were intimate, Wil asked Erk to cast ‘fire’ and ‘thunder’.

“I really want to see the colours,” Wil said.

“And I really want to see you,” Erk whispered and leaned closer to Wil.

When Erk first kissed Wil, their teeth clashed and Wil frantically shoved him away, scratching his nose. There was an awkward pause as Wil refused to look at him but kept his gaze steadily fixed on the fire and the dancing lightning interwoven through it that Erk had cast in place of a campfire. It was only after Erk put out his spells that Wil looked in his general direction in the darkness.

“Erk…”

When they kissed again, it was Wil who initiated it. Their lips brushed against each other for the most fleeting of moments before he withdrew, his cheeks burning as hot as Erk’s spells. When Erk drew him closer and kissed him everywhere except his face, Wil forgot to be embarassed.

They undressed each other with jerky movements. Wil got Erk’s cloak caught over his face because he forgot to undo the clasp. Erk pulled Wil’s breeches down with too much force without undoing the lacing first. They fumbled for quite sometime before they sat in front of each other naked.

Gathering up his courage, Wil made the first move and took Erk in his mouth and almost choked. Erk couldn’t help but moan as he sank into warm heat, he came all too fast and Wil did choke. Afterwards he noticed Wil vomiting in a nearby bush and gathered him in his arms, whispering soothing words and apologies while rubbing his back in circular motions.

Erk brought Wil some water and kissed him after he had drank. He then wrapped his hand around Wil and moved slowly all the while soaking up every sound Wil made. He brought his other hand up to wipe Wil’s sweat soaked hair out of the way as he brought Wil to his peak.

Wil saw colours. Blinding colours.

~~~

Evil. Evil. EVIL.

~~~

My heart bleeds tears when I beat you. Why do you force your father to do such things? Why, Wil? WHY?

I warned you when you were younger to leave your obsession with colours behind, to stay well away from magic. I should have known that you were tainted when you took that damned canvas to bed each evening. You not only ignore my warning, you choose to go against it. A direct disobeying of my wishes.

You courted magic, danced with it, slept with it and brought it back with you.

You bring back some mage to our village and hope that we can accept the two of you? A MALE mage at that! I cannot express the disappointment I felt when I saw the two of you embracing. You are a disgrace. You deserve to be beaten. I will beat the evil taint out of you. You will be pure again, my boy. You will be someone I can be proud of.

Your personal demon cries when he sees blood. He cries for me to stop, but you know that only until you have bled out the evil in you can you be pure again. He cries for you, he cries for his actions.

He cries out when your eyes close. He asks what he can do.

I tell him to go away. To never bring his taint to you ever again. To ensure no other will taint you again.

You don’t need your colours. They will only ever bring you grief and destruction. The world is black and white and that is all you need.

I nurse you back to health and tell you that this is for your own good. I accept the look of hatred you bestow upon me and nod my acquiescence when you tell me you are leaving for Caelin to become a knight. Because in my heart, I know only a parent can know what is best for their child.

And because you now see the world in black and white.

~~~

When Erk pauses to listen to the sounds of fighting outside, Priscilla lets him.

He looks out of the window with such a wistful longing that Priscilla knows keeping him with her is no use. He closes his eyes when he hears the thrumming of a bow and can see in his mind the parabolic path the arrow will travel before landing. He doesn’t realise that he is outside until Priscilla touches his arm. And he doesn’t realise that when Priscilla lets him go, who he will meet.

And he doesn’t realise that to some, his magic is no longer colourful.

~~~

‘See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil and do no evil.’

– Confucius

<><><>

A/N: There we go. I’m sorry that the window didn’t play a big part…I really really tried. This is my take on a probable Erk/Wil relationship, and at the same time explain why Wil has no support convos with any magic users. And why he doesn’t write home. Comments always extremely welcome and will be cherished like my favourite bishounen. ^^ (I really would like to know what you thought of my portrayal of this impossible pairing)

--Sharyn

Christmas Wishlist

2004-12-06T01:19:10Z

Well, I'm sure we've all seen this somewhere before...

STEP ONE

-Make a post (public, friends-locked, filtered...whatever you're comfortable with) to your LJ. The post should contain your list of 10 holiday wishes. The wishes can be anything at all, from simple and fandom-related ("I'd love a Harry icon that's just for me") to medium ("I wish for _____ on DVD") to really big ("All I want for Christmas is a new car/computer/house/TV.") The important thing is, make sure these wishes are things you really, truly want.

- If you wish for real life things (not fics or icons), make sure you include some sort of contact info in your post, whether it's your address or just your email address where Santa (or one of his elves) could get in touch with you.

- Also, make sure you post some version of these guidelines in your LJ or link to this post so that the holiday joy will spread.

STEP TWO

- Surf around your friends list (or friends' friends, or just random journals) to see who has posted their list. And now here's the important part:

- If you see a wish you can grant, and it's in your heart to do so, make someone's wish come true. Sometimes someone's trash is another's treasure, and if you have a leather jacket you don't want or a gift certificate you won't use--do it.

You need not spend money on these wishes unless you want to. The point isn't to put people out, it's to provide everyone a chance to be someone else's holiday elf--to spread the joy. Gifts can be made anonymously or not--it's your call.

There are no rules with this project, no guarantees, and no strings attached. Give, and you might receive. And you'll have the joy of knowing you made someone's holiday special.

Here goes:

- Well written MAR fanfiction. Almost any MAR fanfiction (preferably Rolan/Nanashi, or Nanashi/Alviss, or Dorothy/Nanashi)

- Fanart for 'Eyes on You, Me and Him' (thank you Jia for your donation)

- Lord of the Rings extended DVD set (hah...like that'll happen)

- Good 13x6 fanfiction/doujin (extra pluses for being long enough so I can curl up in bed with it)

- A job (stupid Sydney)

- Cheesecake.

- The Fire's Stone by Tanya Huff (out of print in Aus.)

- Encyclopaedia Britannica's Great Books set

- Karel/Lucius fanfiction

- Angel Sanctuary Manga

My email's on my info page...

feiye @ 2004-12-06T19:18:00

2004-12-06T00:34:23Z

It's kinda really sad that this is my first "personal" entry which is public.

It's like my coming out entry. My virginal entry. The FIRST TIME.

And I'm getting all melodramatic. *wipes tear from eye*

Let's see now, I finished an evil set of exams one day before my birthday about a month ago. Whereupon afterwards I popped straight overseas so that I would avoid hearing the moans and facing the glares of my friends. Said friends after all, finished exams two weeks later than me. And me being...me, I just rubbed it in their faces when I got the chance.

Was on hols for a month and I got back last week. Went to China for tourism purposes instead of visiting relatives as per usual. It was fun. It was good to see that communism is truly alive and well, demonstrated perfectly by my uncle (who is a Colonel) who brought his own chauffeur and car and drove me from Shanghai to Hangzhou to Ningbo to Zhoushan to Hefei to Jingxian and back to Shanghai. It was great fun since I didn't have to pay for any of the tourism fees (my uncle's chauffeur paid for it all and passed it off as "business expenses" later and made quite a bit of cash when he reclaimed the amount later). I also didn't have to worry about well...anything except where I wanted to go.

I found Hangzhou very fun. The West Lake there was very inspirational, my uncle's chauffeur drove me around the place being my tour guide. Most memorable there was the fact that he stopped at one scenic site and said to me: "Take a look at this place, this is the place where you see the most beautiful view of the West Lake. People come here to commit suicide each year. MANY people."

After saying that, a girl behind us went and jumped into the lake. O.o She was saved but apparently she tried to commit suicide there twice in the past week. Fun.

Did a lot of shopping. Am completely shopped out and my bank account is crying. Am currently trying to find a job so that my bank account will stop crying and so that I may have some cash to spend for Christmas. May be forced to give immaterial goods as presents this year T_T *sniffle*

So, if anyone else has a Christmas wish-fic they would like me to write, please post a comment with either a plot-bunny, a pairing and setting, or a challenge (preferably state what kind of fic as well, ie. humour, angst, romance etc. note that I refuse to write sap). I will attempt to answer the wishes.

And I'm off to send out more resumes.

(So, how'd I go with my first public personal LJ entry? ^^)

[FIC](FE7) Eyes on You, Me and Him

2004-10-20T01:51:30Z

When it rains, it pours. Here's another thing I had lying about begging to be finished.

TITLE: Eyes on You, Me and Him
AUTHOR: Sharyn
SERIES: Fire Emblem 7 - Rekka no Ken
ARCHIVING: My LJ (http://www.livejournal.com/~feiye), any others please get permission from myself and r_amythest.
RATING: PG-13
WARNINGS: Yaoi, double entendres, innuendo, prissy Eliwood, evil suggestions, ie. the usual ^_^
PAIRINGS: Oodles. Cookies to whoever gets them all. Primarily Raven/Lucius, Hector/Raven and to an extent Eliwood/Harken
SUMMARY: There's this guy watching this other guy who thinks this guy likes this guy but this other guy reckons this guy likes him. And so on.
LENGTH: ~3400 words
DISCLAIMER: Fire Emblem 7 is copyright of Nintendo 2003, I make no claims to any of the characters, only to their interactions in this piece. If I actually owned FE7, Legault would be gayer than Aziraphale and Eliwood would be as prissy as I portray him to be.

DEDICATION: For r_amythest, because I promised her a birthday fic. Alas, I am lazy and thus very apologetic as I deliver this to her as both a (extremely) late birthday present and an amusingly early Christmas one. Whichever she chooses. She's an absolute sweetie who I know loves Raven/Lucius, and said wouldn't mind even if I wrote Eliwood/Harken. So I wrote her a Raven/Lucius with Eliwood/Harken. Please don't take this seriously, it's meant to make you laugh (I hope). ^^;;

<><><>

Eyes on You, Me and Him

It was a perfectly rotten day. In a subjective, figurative sense.

If one were intent on details and semantics, it would be more accurate to say that Raven was having a perfectly rotten day.

The sun was out, shining quite brightly which was a great change from the periodical rain that Eliwood’s little band had been subjected to.

If one were intent on details and semantics yet again, it would be more accurate to say ‘Hector’s rather impressively and constantly growing band.’

In any case, physically, it was a beautiful day – a bit along the lines of days plucked straight out of legends of the old, right before everything started going downhill and the world was doomed to end. So, the sun was shining, the little birds were twittering away, not quite singing as they shared their morning gossip. The grass was green and the sky was blue. All in all, it was an unlikely sight that nature had decided to share with humanity before the impending doom and destruction that was merely days away. After all, the impressively growing band of unlikely saviours of the world had already made their final battle preparations and the tension of the upcoming ‘battle against evil to save the world’ was hanging very heavy in the crisp fresh air.

Nonetheless, it wasn’t the looming fear of the end of the world that was making Raven’s day perfectly rotten. The red-headed mercenary had other issues graver than that which were taking precedence in the ruining of his sunny day. Issues like revenge, anniversaries and unresolved sexual tension. It was sombre issues such as these that made Raven grouchy and fueled the fires of his frustration at his perfectly rotten day. The fact that there was the possibility of the world ending if he and a few other rag-tag members were unable to defeat a century old mad man who had tapped into a well of chaotic and dark power, let’s not forget that he also wanted to summon a few pet dragons as well, didn’t provide any form of relief.

First of the issues that was contributing to his foul mood was his revenge on Ostia. A few years back, when Raven had yet to adopt his somewhat feminine alias and was still known as Lord Raymond, a disaster befell his family home of House Cornwell. At the time, the younger child of the House had been sent away to stay with Count Caerleon of Etruria and was thankfully spared from viewing the tragic demise. Because St. Elimine was a fickle god, the older child was not spared and watched as his parents were killed and his home ruined, razed to the ground.

The whispers that had spread at the time all said that it was the Marquess of Ostia who ordered the destruction of House Cornwell. After hearing the muted rumours, the young heir Lord Raymond swore to avenge his household against Ostia. With this oath sworn, he changed his name to Raven to hide his identity and began on his moneymaking journey of revenge.

He had met the younger Lord of Ostia, Hector, in Caelin and had since then travelled with him in order to attain his revenge. Yet until now, all Raven was able to do was to sit by the sidelines and observe the young lord, the opportunity for revenge never arising. Add to that, the approaching anniversary of Cornwell’s destruction and the possibility of Ostia’s Lord Hector escaping his revenge through death, like that Uther, with the end of the world business and all, Raven felt he was definitely allowed to sulk and wallow in his own woes for a while.

Of course, another distressing issue was that of his feelings towards a certain best friend of his. Raven had known Lucius since he was still Raymond and played around with wooden swords and they were best friends to say the least. As he grew older, he became closer and closer to his best friend, confiding in him secrets he would not dare tell others and seeking his comfort when dreaded reality became too much to bear. As of late, he had begun to see his friend in a different light, his heart beating a little faster when Lucius was around and feeling mysteriously happy whenever a dazzling smile was shot his way.

Raven had always known Lucius was pretty, in an unorthodox sense. He had taken it for granted that he would protect this beauty when others sought to mar it and that it would only be himself who would ever tell Lucius how lovely he really looked. It was a crack in his traditional beliefs that had awakened his unsure feelings.

It had all started when they first joined the, back then, merry little band. A certain pink-haired vivacious cleric called Serra had devoutly avoided approaching Lucius and himself. Lucius remained blissfully unaware of the situation but Raven had noticed all the sneaked peeks, the intent stares and the occasional sigh on the girl’s behalf when she thought Lucius was not looking. She had gathered up some courage one day to talk to Lucius, whom she thought at the time was a girl, and started to learn more about him.

After that little discussion, the sneaked peeks became obvious gawking, the intent stares turning into worshipful looks and the occasional sigh had metamorphosed into full-blown fawning. And Raven was made aware of the annoyed voices in his mind that were telling him this girl was encroaching on what was his and that he didn’t like it one bit. Yet being the kind, concerned friend that he was, he didn’t act on the voices in his head and merely sat by Lucius offering silent support all the while being delighted when he was confided in.

Then came the incident.

It was another perfectly rotten day, quite like the present one in fact, when Serra approached Lucius ‘to talk.’ Raven, and the rest of the steadily growing band, had stood by watching as the girl peered about nervously and fidgeted with the fabric of her dress while she planned out what she was about to say. That in itself was peculiar because everyone knew that Serra, of all people, was rarely, if ever, tongue-tied.

“Lucius…I wanted to tell you that I…” Serra had said, looking down at the ground while everyone else listened in anticipation, “I like you! I like you a lot…your eyes are entrancing and your voice is so melodic and…oh St. Elimine, you are so beautiful!”

Her cheeks were already pink as she made her declaration and Lucius had stood there unable to respond. Everyone else who was listening, except Raven of course, had burst into a chorus of laughter which turned Serra’s face as red as Eliwood’s hair. Unlike everyone else, Raven had privately wondered what Lucius’ response would be. He had hoped that Lucius would have nothing to do with the girl and inform her as such since only he was allowed to get that close with Lucius.

He wasn’t disappointed.

“Sister Serra…whilst I am honoured by your affections, I am afraid I cannot return your feelings,” Lucius had looked decidedly uncomfortable by that stage, “I don’t care for you in that way. I apologise.”

With a quick bow, Lucius had left the silent scene and Raven trailed not too far behind. In a conveniently deserted part of the woods, Lucius stopped and sat down and Raven followed suit. It was then that Lucius had grabbed Raven and cried on his shoulder. No words passed between the two as Lucius wept for the girl he had rejected and Raven held onto his friend, stroking his back in attempts to comfort him. Internally, Raven was tingling with delight at the proximity between him and Lucius and was smirking at the rejection.

But since then, no other warm and fuzzy events had occurred and Raven was becoming more and more fixated on Lucius but definitely did not want to ruin the closeness he shared with the monk should he too be rejected.

So Raven was grouchy.

And since he was unable to do anything about the issue of unresolved sexual tension, he decided to focus his entire concentration on the other major issue: revenge. Which explained why he was tailing Hector around the camp trying to stare holes into the back of his head. If looks could hurt, then Hector would be as good as diced mince meat, regurgitated back out by Vaida’s wyvern. But as Raven didn’t have that power, he resorted to stalking and cataloguing the Ostian noble’s every move.

It was too bad that stealth wasn’t Raven’s strongest suit because Hector had a feeling that his day had just taken a turn for the worse when he noticed an itchy sort of feeling which told him someone was watching him. Constantly. But whenever he looked around, it seemed as if he couldn’t pin point his mysterious observer. Until a flash of red hair caught his attention.

He was sitting down at the main camp area looking over maps with Eliwood and Lyndis when he saw the hard-eyed mercenary staring at him with an intent gaze. Hector shook his head slightly, dismissing it without much thought. Yet when he looked up again he found that the eyes were still aimed at him, as if the mercenary was trying to burn a whole through Hector’s forehead with his eyes alone. A bit perturbed, he elbowed Eliwood who was staring dreamily at the sky.

“Hey Eliwood…” Hector whispered to his friend, “Eliwood!”

“Huh?” Eliwood said, jolted out of his reverie and a blush began to rise, “I wasn’t thinking about anyone! Nope, definitely not, not at all thinking about a hero…”

“ELIWOOD!” Hector said, frustrated with his friend’s random babbling.

“Huh?”

“Wait…hero? What do you know about that mercenary turned hero?” Hector asked.

“I haven’t done anything with him that would shame Dame Isadora,” Eliwood answered a bit too quickly.

“What in the blazes are you talking about Eliwood? I was asking about that red-headed guy who’s staring at me, who’s constantly staring at me,” Hector said, sounding slightly irritated.

“Oh him,” Eliwood paused before replying, “That’s Raven. He’s a bit rude, or so I hear, and he does stare at you quite a lot, doesn’t he?”

“But why?”

“I’m not sure,” Eliwood shrugged, “Hidden affections?”

Hector choked. Never mind the fact that he wasn’t eating anything, he managed to choke nonetheless and Eliwood thumped his back soundly all the while casting him worried looks. Lyndis came back and looked at the two peculiarly.

“What happened to Lord Classless?” Lyndis said with a sneer towards Hector.

“Silent admiration from an unexpected corner,” Eliwood said, his face and tone perfectly solemn.

Lyndis raised an eyebrow.

“No way!” Hector hissed, “Why would this Raven have anything to do with me?”

“Indeed,” Lyndis had a fake sincere expression on her face as she patted Hector’s back, “why would anyone have anything to do with someone as ungraceful as you is absolutely beyond me.”

“Lady Lyndis!” Eliwood gasped.

“It’s true!” Lyndis smirked, “Besides, I never pinned Hector to have any relations with a man, and I’m almost certain Raven is partial to men.”

“Truly?” Eliwood’s eyes widened.

“Well, when I traveled with Lucius before, he said…”

Lyndis’ words fell on unhearing ears as every alarm in Hector’s head was ringing. Loudly.

Now, Hector had always been an aristocrat, much to his own dismay and the amusement of other, more refined ladies that frequented Ostia’s court. Most of these ladies visited the court with a single goal drilled into their minds by hopeful mothers, “capture the eye of one of the lords.” So young Lord Hector was subjected to the feminine wiles of numerous heavily made up ladies who would sidle up to him suggestively, their eyes shining with the promise of sinful delights. It was a matter of deduction to reach the conclusion clear within these ladies’ minds. Lord Uther was old, scarred and it was a whispered theory that there was something else about him however neither Uther nor Oswin confirmed or denied the rumours that spread about them. But young Lord Hector however, he was pleasant to the eye, a lord nonetheless albeit a bit coarse but still a worthy catch.

Yet despite all this, Hector remained young and innocent and retained his air of naivete regarding the affairs between men and women. He was familiar with the blatant flirting that he endured, through smiles which showed too much teeth, but this ‘silent admiration’ he was subjected to, from a man, was far out of his league of knowledge and experience. Hector was confused, very surprised and secretly flattered. He resolved to learn more about his silent stalker so went to the most logical place for information: Matthew.

Matthew was in the middle of some deep thinking when Hector approached him and he was jolted out of his deep thinking most annoyingly, as in having his thoughts broken in by a spectacularly loud and forlorn sigh. With a sigh of his own, he turned to his Lord and raised an eyebrow expectantly.

“Matthew, you’re full of lots of interesting news and you’ve always been so loyal to me…”

“What is it, my Lord?” Matthew said, cutting off Hector’s flattering, and as he suspected false, speech.

“I have an admirer,” Hector blurted out and his cheeks seemed to turn slightly pink.

Matthew blinked at this unexpected declaration. A few moments later he was still blinking.

“Well, Matthew…” Hector said when Matthew didn’t respond, “it’s not one of those court ladies, I mean I’ve dealt with countless of them. This time it’s different, like big different. Huge. Um…like extra appendage, different gender kind of different.”

Matthew wondered if it was possible for him to be more surprised than he currently felt. He continued to blink.

“And well…I wanted to ask if you…”

Matthew gathered his bearings as Hector hesitated in his statements.

“Why do people always come to me for these types of problems? What is it about me that screams ‘I prefer men!’? Tell me!” Matthew yelled his frustration, “First it’s Lord Eliwood, whom I’m not even familiar with, with his ‘oh Matthew, I’ve been told that you are the one to come to if I wish to discuss the kind of love that must not be named and I’ve had my eye on this fellow for so long already…’ Do I look like some kind of agony aunt for men who can’t seem to get it up for women? I loved Leila, alright? I’m a perfectly normal red-blooded male with perfectly normal preferences!”

Matthew took a deep breath in efforts to calm himself whilst Hector, and the small group of spectators that had gathered at Matthew’s loud rant, stared at him in wonder mixed with horror. What followed could only be described as an uncomfortable silence which even the normally noisy twittering of birds dared not to disturb.

“Matthew…” Oswin, who had joined the group of spectators, ventured out to speak, “You know, it’s probably not the best example you could have given. I mean, you hadn’t properly spoken to Leila for about four years before she…well died, and she’s been cold in the ground for almost a year now.”

“So what?” Matthew retorted with a pout and a dirty look (which somehow managed not to counteract the effects of each other), “I’m faithful.”

There were a few meaningful coughs amongst the group of spectators, some of which sounded suspiciously like the words “Legault, Guy, milk and cream.”

Hector had, amidst Matthew’s tirade, er…speech, slipped away as it seemed his faithful vassal was indisposed. Or as the commoners would say, barking mad. It appeared that he was on his own for this noble quest. From the corner of his eye, he saw his lovelorn admirer follow him out of the steadily increasing fray back where Matthew was situated. He turned to face Raven.

“Raven, isn’t it? Charming name, by the way, I’d like an opportunity to um…spend some time with you,” Hector paused and at Raven’s dubious look, hastened to add, “sharing fighting tips that is, yes fighting tips.”

Raven raised an elegant eyebrow and the action, in Hector’s most humble opinion, was eloquence itself.

“You wish to fight?” Raven asked, his voice practically purring at the suggestion.

“Sure, why not?” Hector said.

No sooner had Hector agreed, Raven had his sword drawn out and was attacking. Hearing the clanging of metal, Lucius found himself hurrying to the centre of the abnormally noisy camp. He gasped at the sight he saw there.

Hector was parrying an attack by Raven, who looked so cute with his forehead furrowed in concentration, and appeared to have difficulty remaining upright. His foot slipped and Hector fell onto the grass in a spread eagle position. With Raven on top of him.

“Oh my,” was the only comment Lucius found himself able to utter.

“Oof, oh my indeed. Raven, you’re heavy,” Hector complained.

“Today, I achieve revenge. House Ostia, you pay for destroying my home, my childhood and ruining my life and turning me into this!” Raven pointed at his chest in frustration, “I was born a high class noble and because of you I’ve been condemned to this life of servitude for money, people BUY my services.”

“OH MY,” Lucius gasped at the unintentional double meaning of that, his mind after all was working with the image of Raven sitting on another man’s body.

“But…” Hector’s confusion showed plainly on his face, “I thought you liked me, you were always watching me. And you agreed to fight me all in the spirit of well,” here he blushed, “foreplay.”

At that declaration, Raven crawled off Hector’s body faster than one would have thought possible. He ran to where Lucius stood as an innocent bystander whose eyes were huge as he took in the situation.

“Whoever gave you that idea, Lord Hector, is an idiot,” Raven said with a snicker.

“But Eliwood was certain…he said he knew this hero and…”

Lucius’ cheeks were bright crimson as he digested this, “What happens between Lord Eliwood and Sir Harken is most…enlightening and quite…never mind.”

“And in any case,” Raven said, shooting another glare at Hector, “I don’t like you, I have much better tastes and Lucius is all I need.”

“Oh, Lord Raven…”

“Right, I see, your tastes run to the short, blond and feminine but not exactly female,” Hector said. He sniffed in a perfectly obnoxious high class manner, “I care not for you and your…woman! Others desire my presence, I shall take my leave.”

As Hector stormed off, Lucius turned to face Raven, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. Raven managed to lessen his scowl to a level where it seemed he was merely annoyed rather than angry and gathered Lucius awkwardly into his arms.

“You should have told me earlier, Lord Raven…”

Raven put a finger to Lucius’ (most delectable) mouth and then silenced it in a more effective manner. Soon, moans were the only sound both of them were capable of making.

As Raven’s perfectly rotten (now delightful) day drew to an end, Lyn smiled from the tree she sat in as she watched the sun descend, casting an orange glow over the blond bishop and redheaded hero intertwined together. She sighed and ‘aww’ed at the spectacle and thought it was about time those two got together. She moved to another branch and was awarded with the sight of another blond and redhead engaged in an embrace while a figure looking suspiciously like Dame Isadora approached. Lyn smiled, that would be an interesting show to watch.

Meanwhile, on the last sturdy branch she lowered herself to, she found Hector building a camp fire and gathered around, hindering rather than helping, was Matthew. And Guy. And Legault. And what looked suspiciously liked some dairy product amidst a notable lack of clothing. She allowed herself a smirk, all these happenings would have to be reported to the tactician. And she herself needed to get a snuggle or two.

And everyone in Hector's constantly growing band had a temporary happily ever after before they left to try and save the world.

THE END (like, finally)

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A/N: Well, Am I hope you enjoyed that. Please note if you would like to archive this elsewhere, get her approval before you ask me (I'm most likely to say yes). Kudos to Jia who once again listened to me rant while I worked on this, and bugged me a bit to work on FE7 fics when I'm supposed to be STUDYING! Argh. *tears at hair* I'm hitting the books.

--Sharyn

[FIC](DNAngel) Puzzle Pieces

2004-10-20T01:12:46Z

*sigh* I get inspiration at the worst times. This little thing sprung upon me while I was supposed to be studying for exams. I went and polished it today (after an exam, bad Sharyn) and thought it might be of interest.

TITLE: Puzzle Pieces
AUTHOR: Sharyn
SERIES: D.N.Angel
ARCHIVING: My LJ (http://www.livejournal.com/~feiye), any others please ask.
RATING: light PG
WARNINGS: Implied shonen-ai (blink and you'll miss it)
PAIRINGS: None really, 2 vaguely implied.
SUMMARY: Raindrops that stay on his nose and eyelashes. Well hair and eyelashes really.
LENGTH: ~750 words
DISCLAIMER: D.N.Angel is copyrighted to Yukiru Sugisaki, I make no claims to it. The fic is mine and no profit is being made, purely for entertainment purposes.

DEDICATION: For Jia, because she likes to squeal with me at wet bishounen, or at least doesn’t mind me squealing at wet bishounen.

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Puzzle Pieces

Hiwatari Satoshi wakes up to the sound of rain falling upon roofs and windows. It is not an altogether unusual situation but for some reason today he sits upright in his bed, taking in the sounds and sights of the rainy morning. His eyes fixate upon the drops sliding down his window leaving glistening paths to mark their presence. It is fascinating for him.

Satoshi doesn’t like rain. It is wet and always causes him to become temperamental. It also makes him prone to random acts that defy his usual rational image. Silly little things like standing on a balcony in one’s sleepwear while wayward raindrops fall and cling to sleep-mussed hair. He passes this fleeting fancy off as a necessity, after all a little bit of silliness once in a while should be good for one’s health.

Rain, Satoshi randomly decides, is like Niwa.

In his half awake mind he feels a pressure build up, less painful than usual but mocking all the same. Krad is scoffing at what he claims to be irrational thoughts.

Peculiar, Satoshi is almost certain that Krad cares not for his thoughts all that much, rational or irrational. He expects his winged alter ego to just take his thoughts and twist them beyond recognition just to see the look of pain that will grace Satoshi’s face, internally or even better, externally. And all while he searches for split ends in his preposterously long, blond hair.

Krad seems to take offense at this thought and makes some remark about how split ends would not dare appear in his hair. He threatens them with mutilation and grievous harm.

Satoshi also passes Krad’s moment of mild lucidity and his somewhat dry response as a fleeting fancy, this one conjured up by his remnant sleepiness. It may also be due to the soaking wetness that is slowly cutting off feeling from his ankles downwards. He is sure that not feeling one’s toes is classified as a “bad thing” but does not feel compelled to move. Idly, he wonders why.

Krad rummages through his mind, it is a feeling Satoshi is much accustomed to. Initially he attempted to put up a resistance to it, the very idea of someone else knowing his private thoughts being quite a foul notion. But after having his mind meticulously taken apart so many times then put back together, he is no longer taken aback by the ease with which Krad tears through his thoughts.

His mind is like a jigsaw puzzle that has been played with too much. The edges are soft and worn and the pieces fit together with too much ease. Small holes begin to show each time Krad reassembles his mind after playing with the pieces. It is impossible to move a well used puzzle once it is complete – the pieces fall apart too easily.

Satoshi wonders if puzzle pieces can be played with so much that they become distorted and no longer connect. He also wonders if Krad thinks his comparison is quaint, Satoshi rarely receives any form of compliment, whether straightforward or backward, from Krad. Any form of encouragement from his blond half bring him a twisted sense of guilt and satisfaction.

The rain is lightening to a whispery drizzle that catches upon floating breezes and stick to Satoshi’s fine hair and bizarrely long eyelashes. He blinks rapidly trying to dislodge the minute droplets but they refuse to let go, grasping onto his eyelashes like a lifeline. It is precisely this kind of sensation that annoys Satoshi and makes him think of Niwa, a kind of consistency that refuses to let go. Niwa tends to leave his marks on Satoshi too, and Krad takes great delight in tormenting him with this fact.

Satoshi breathes a small sigh, and is forced to concede that any deep thinking he wishes to attempt will have to occur some other time. Perhaps at a time when his mind is no longer divided into puzzle pieces. A time when Krad acquires some sanity, a time when Niwa is no longer like the rain scattered on his hair and eyelashes. A time, he hopes, when they will be able to leave the dreary past behind and look to the clear future.

He rests against the apartment balcony, his hair flickers from the pale blue of day old snow to the sickly golden of summer suns and decides to stop thinking.

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A/N: Well, this is my first D.N.Angel fic, short it may be. Hope I got the characters IC (I put quite a bit of thought into Krad and am quite happy with the personality I developed further for him). Comments always welcome.

--Sharyn

[FIC](GW) Testosterone

2004-07-31T21:26:10Z

Don't ask where this came from. I blame it on...*points randomly* Just a quick ficlet I did in about 40 min. Un-beta'd.

TITLE: Testosterone (or Wufei's Story of Life)
AUTHOR: Sharyn
SERIES: Gundam Wing
ARCHIVING: Please ask.
RATING: PG for the double entendres.
PAIRINGS: Implied 13x6x13, mentioned 13x6x5
WARNINGS: Double entendres, shounen-ai, most likely lame humour, please excuse.
SUMMARY: Wufei has problems. Treize is no help and Zechs makes them all the worse.
LENGTH: ~780 words
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Oh how I wish they were though.

OTHER: C&C of any kind most welcome. Originally posted to the-vent_submissions ML.

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Testosterone

"AHHhh-h..." Wufei's warcry died short as his voice croaked a little. He coughed and cleared his throat, a little confused and very annoyed at the situation.

"AHHh..." he tried again but it died even quicker this time round, he even spluttered a bit in between the croaks this time. He was well and truly on the road to "angry" making pit-stops at "annoyed" and now diverging to "mortified".

"What-the?" he said and was most embarrassed to find the croaking did not stop when he spoke and that there were muffled chuckles on the opposite side of the room. He looked up from his flustered position by the window (which he stood originally because wanted a dramatic effect and he expected wind to blow leaves making a handsome backdrop against his profile but as luck would have it, it was a perfectly clear night with no wind whatsoever) and glared at Treize.

Treize stood across the room with his rapier lowered after Wufei had glared at him, and one hand gently obscuring his mouth so that the raucous chuckles that threatened to escape were prevented from leaving his elegant being, thus ruining the "elegant" part of his persona. He watched with an air of detached amusement as Wufei cleared his throat a few more times and tried out his voice. The dragon had come for a rematch (as per usual) and sought to make a grand and chilling entrance which had been ruined by the ineffectivity of his warcry. And Treize had been waiting for some time now for his opponent to gather his bearings and well, fight.

"Treize Kushre-" Wufei paused again as his voice dropped half an octave.

"WHAT THE?" he resorted to yelling instead, and was most dismayed to find that his voice went back up half an octave at the second half of his exclamation.

That was the last straw for Treize as he doubled over laughing, clutching his rapier as support. It seemed as if the wrong hormones were hitting at a most inopportune time. His laughs were loud and uncontrolled and a minute later, Zechs had stormed into the room, the slamming of the door creating a nice gust of wind that then allowed his cape and hair to billow gently. The end result was a very attention seeking entrance that made Wufei even more flustered than he already was, seeing someone else pull off his failed attempt with such dramatic flair.

"General!" Zechs' baritone was tinged with slight worry as he saw the General of OZ clutching his stomach and leaning on his somewhat unsteady rapier for support.

"Peace, Zechs," Treize said after he had calmed down enough, "I'm fine."

"What is happening here?" Zechs demanded and focused his attention on Wufei.

"I'm challenging Treize to a duel," Wufei said with a snort in attempt to cover up his current uncomfortable state, in a room with two high ranking OZ officials and a wavering voice.

"05, what on earth is wrong with your voice?" Zechs demanded. And set Treize off into another fit of laughter, by the sounds of which were starting to seem more like giggles.

Wufei growled.

"He tried to do his warcry and..." Treize said in between laughs, definitely sounding like giggles now though, "his voice broke...and..."

Zechs pieced the information he had gathered together and smirked, handsomely of course.

"Would you care for a cough drop, 05?" Zechs inquired all too politely.

"Why you!" Wufei started, then sighed in resignation. That got the attention of the no-longer giggling Treize.

"I would still like to duel you, however all my serious fights require a warcry," Wufei said, ignoring his fluctuating voice.

Treize raised an eyebrow in perfect eloquence.

"Zechs, could you do the honours? Just yell, I'm sure you won't have bloody hormone problems," Wufei said.

Zechs snickered, "My hormone problems are very much different to yours."

Zechs leered at Treize who winked back.

"I did NOT need to see or know that!" Wufei said and blushed, "I'll...come back next time..."

He moved towards the window and made to crawl out before Zechs approached him.

"I'd be glad to help you with your 'problems' and I'm sure Treize won't mind if you have hormonal imbalances or if they are somewhat, let us say, demanding?" Zechs said with a smirk that oozed sexuality.

"Eep!" Wufei crawled out and ran as fast as he could. His honour wasn't worth sacrificing that way.

"That wasn't very nice, Milliardo," Treize said and moved closer to the Lieutenant and raised his rapier up in challenge, "You scared away my entertainment for the evening, I assume that you will be replacing it?"

"Of course Treize," Zechs said, "in more ways than one."

~~~
Insert lemon here *grins*

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Final note: I've always wondered how the G-boys coped with hormonal changes during the war. *food for thought*

Edited 02/08/2004: Thanks to Sintari who pointed out a small grammar mistake.

--Sharyn