Fanfiction Review

ffictionreview @ 2008-07-28T22:58:00

2008-07-29T03:12:53Z

Title: Sweet and Fitting
Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Rating: PG-13
Warnings (if there are any): Character Death
Summary: Back then I didn't see anything wrong with a child of fire befriending an Airbender, but I'd grow up in time. The untold story of a very minor character. Please read and review.
I fail at cuts and links tonight.

X-posted to avatar_fans

ffictionreview @ 2008-07-14T14:38:00

2008-07-14T18:48:22Z

Hello :]
im looking for some constructive criticism on these stories. Thanks bunches.

Title: Goodbye {subject to change}
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: PG
Characters: Lily and Petunia
Summary: [drabble] The last time Petunia and Lily saw each other they had nothing to say.

They had nothing to say to each other. It was a tense and awkward afternoon tea. Petunia sat rigid, lips pursed; Lily looked everywhere but at her. Teacups were placed forcefully, smiles strained.

Their time was up.

Lily began to walk away, leave. She stopped, halfway turned towards Petunia, “Goodbye, Petunia”

Petunia said nothing.

It’s rather ironic that now that she wants to talk to her baby sister, she’s six feet underground. She regrets not saying goodbye that day. Laying blue hydrangeas on her headstone, her favorite flower, Petunia wished she could tell her how much she loved her.

“Goodbye, Lily”

Title: Loveless
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: PG
Character: Narcissa Malfoy
Summary: 300 words on a day in the life of Narcissa Malfoy's wedding dress

Stuffed in a cardboard box in an attic. Unloved, uncared for. Collecting dust. It was nothing but a distant memory, an unpleasant reminder of what could have been and what wasn’t.

Once it had represented happiness to a young girl. Once it had meant a new beginning, better things to come. Pure white, it exemplified innocence. Satin, with layers upon layers, encrusted with transparent jewels, shiny pearls, and tailored to perfection, it exuded elegance and wealth. The young bride had radiated joy. Looking back, perhaps it was the diamonds that had radiated in the sun. Maybe, like many other brides of a pure and noble line, she had plastered on a smile and she held her head high, for the sake of her family, her future, her pride, even if it meant being unloved in the end.

Soon after that day, it was thrust aside, an unwanted trophy. It was forgotten, and boxed away.

Years later, decades perhaps, it was loved again, if only for a moment. Unfolded with tender care, the years of dust slowly wiped away. The woman’s icy blue eyes had a glistening sheen of water. Tears it realized, of happiness or sorrow, it did not know. It knew that it was providing comfort to the hurt women; it could tell by the way she clutched it to her chest, the way she ran her fingers along the delicate beading. It felt the salty sting, shaking breathes, and it heard the quiet sniffles.

Maybe the women, like itself, was unloved , uncared for, unwanted. Roughly pushed aside and shut into an impossibly tight corner. Maybe the women, like itself, was once beautiful and elegant, only to be dulled by darkness and yellowed by age.

Again it went into the darkness. Into the moldy confines of a box.

Title: Waiting for Heaven
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: PG
Character: Sirius Black
Summary: Sirius contemplates whilas he waits to pass through the pearly gates

Glancing once again at his gold watch, a gift from the Potter family on his 17^th birthday, Sirius tried not to let out a huff of annoyance. He tried not to fidget, his mother’s voice, no, screeching, reverberated through his brain stop moving, it’s unbecoming of a Black, be still.

He crossed his arms across his chest to avoid the temptation of looking at his watch. Again. He tapped his foot impatiently causing several heads to turn and glare. What was taking so long? Sirius found himself craning his neck around the shoulders of the burly man standing in front of him. If he squinted he could see the beginning of the line. This time he swore- quite loudly- earning himself several more admonishing glares.

The line, oh the line! It was so long! Had any of theses people ever heard of efficiency? Obviously not, as he had been standing here (another glance at his watch) for over two hours. Torture, that’s what this was. His legs ached and he was bored.

The line inched forward.

For the first time in his life, or ever, Sirius Black was at a loss (It was getting so bad that he was now referring to himself in the third person!). He simply didn’t know what to do to. He had already ruined any chance for conversation, not that he’d want to converse with any of the stiff-lipped snobs here, long ago. That and the one person who he’d love to chat up, a pretty brunette, was, in fact, upon further inspection, neither pretty nor female (or brunette for that matter). He had quickly turned around and studied the patterns in the marble floor so intensely he thought that maybe the floor had wronged him at one point. He even found himself wondering if he could burn letters into it, like that one muggle super-what’s-it that Lily always talked about.

Another step forward.

Is that man wearing a dress?

With nothing to do short of …well, nothing, Sirius took to reexamining his surroundings. Truth be told, it was nothing like he had expected. Where were the clouds? Ghosts? Harps? Pearly Gates? Upon his arrival here he thought Remus and Harry, had brought him to St. Mungo’s. Alas, that was not that case. The only difference between here and the emergency ward at St. Mungo’s was the ridiculously long line. Okay, so that was a lie. The building was bigger, of course, and had a slightly ominous echo. Other than the sound of pages being turned and the occasionally footsteps, there was no other noise. Honestly, everyone was so gloomy! Truth be told, it was- dare he say it? – pretty. The tall stained glass windows let in colored rays of light. It reminded him of those windows in the prefect bathroom with the mermaids on them. It made him long for a bubble bath.

Heels were clicking and echoing and annoying and distracting Sirius from his happy memories of the prefect bathroom. Tearing his gaze from the windows, he located the source of the horrid clicking. A young mother, carrying her kid, walked past him, past the rest of the people near him, past most of the line. Oh! That –ohhh, unfair! He thought of a thousand and three names to call the line hopping women as she wedged her way between a man with a handlebar mustache and a women dressed as a chef. Looked like he wasn’t the only one bristling with indignation. Was that even a word? He wasn’t sure, he didn’t care either.

For a brief moment he wondered what the kids name was. (Hopefully not something as atrocious as Bellatrix). Guessing names was an old game he and his brother used to play, back before Sirius was old enough to go to Hogwarts. He played it with James too. He loved that game. He and James would sit on a bench in Diagon Alley and give names to all the people walking by. Occasionally they would yell the names out, trying to get a person to turn around and look for whoever called them. They got pretty good at it too.

Sirius decided, after remembering a particularly exhilarating escape from death eaters on his motorbike that involved two muggle policemen, to name the kid Elvendork. After all, he couldn’t tell if it was a boy or girl, and with a name like Elvendork it didn’t matter.

He recalled wanting to rename Buckbeak Elvendork, but Hagrid has insisted on Witherwings (stupid name really).

Another glance at his watch. Three hours. Perhaps the line would move faster if he glared at it. He wished it would shrink, that maybe the floor would open up and send dozens to Hell and allow those of a courageous and Gryffindor nature to be closer to entering paradise. If he were James, he wouldn’t have this problem. He was willing to bet 100 galleons that James didn’t have to wait this long.

Line-Jumper and Elvendork are at the counter. He was now only- a quick count- 17 people away! How long had he been glaring? If he wasn’t surrounded by these humorless sea urchins (or concerned for his own sanity) he would have done a jig. He opted to do the jig in his head.

A flash of gold as he checks the time. A woman in slippers and horrible makeup hissed “ow” as the light reflected off his watch and into her eye. Good, she deserved it; Sirius wasn’t going to apologize, not if she wore rollers in her hair in public.

He can see the counter.

He’s somewhat appalled as the clerk tells the old women – Granny, he called her- to drop and give him ten. She looked pretty old and wrinkled, but she dropped to the floor and did ten perfect pushups. Sirius was amazed; he didn’t think he could do that.

The clerk smiled and allowed Granny to shuffle through a door to the right.

He can hear the conversations now.

“Name…Cause…You can enter…Name…Cause…You can enter”

A few answers ( “Chainsaw” , “lava”, “six-fingered man”) made Sirius wonder about the state of humanity , while others (“no, seriously, a side of fava beans.” , “..barbed wire wrapped around a fan….”) unnerved him.

At last, his turn!

“Erm, hello, ” he looked at the name tag of the clerk, “Peter.” Hm, so this was St. Peter.

Peter did not look amused. “Name?”

“Sirius Black,” he shuffled his feet and tries not to play with his sleeves.

The man’s eyes narrowed. “Ah, yes, Sirius Black, how could I not have known? I’ve heard of you.”

“You have? I—uh, I mean- yeah, who hasn’t though? Ha-ha! ” Oh lord. He had let out a nervous giggle. His voice cracked and he giggled. Giggled!

“Cause?”

Sirius paused, gathering his thoughts, “Rescue mission gone awry.”

“That’s the circumstances Black, what actually caused your death?”

“I…fell…”

“You fell?” Peter raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. Through a, uhm, arch-thing,” a curtain. A curtain killed him, but he wasn’t going to say that “during the rescue mission.”

“I see, it says here that you fell through the veil. ” What was the point of asking the cause of death if he already knew? No wonder it took so long.

“Huh. Yeah….it’s an arch…of-of death….” Stupid little man had the nerve to narrow his eyes even more!

“Obviously, or you would not be here! You may enter. NEXT!”

Sirius skittered, yes, skittered, toward the wooden door. So much for pearly gates. He stood; hand on the circular knob, preparing himself. He heard the ugly non brunette man telling Peter that he had an unfortunate accident with a group of lumberjacks . Deep breath. He opened the door, ready to finally gain peace and see James, Lily and so many others he loved once more, and stepped through.

New user here. ^.^

2006-08-30T03:35:21Z

Uh...A ficlet of mine that I wrote a while back on a whim. That's really all I have to say.

Title: Connections

Fandom: Naruto

Rating: PG

Warnings: Mild OOC, implied yaoi if you squint, cursing, and angst a-plenty

Pairing(s): Hinted KabuSasu

Link: 'Es right here.

Yes, I'm pimping Guyver-fic

2006-08-02T17:02:36Z

My own, to be precise. :D I've got 12 reviews, but that doesn't seem like a good number for a 60+ chapter fanfic. Please review it if you have the time.

Title: Son of Mine
Fandom: Guyver: OAV, manga, later the second movie.
Rating: R
Warnings: Violence, language, mild slash, OCs included, AU
Pairings: (mentioned) Mizuki/Sho, Agito/Shizu, Masaki/Miaka, Zektor/Elegen
Summary: Masaki Murakami has been keeping a secret from the rest of the group. That secret is about to come out. Meanwhile, Sho and the others have to deal with an overambitious Zoalord, the ruler of Chronos itself, and the trials of living on the run.
Link: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2578044/1/

Two fandoms for the price of one!

2006-06-14T06:07:10Z

I don't add just any old story to my favorites list. Those that manage to stay on there throughout the changes are some damned good fanfiction.

Title: The Heart is a Lonely Hunter
Fandom: Weiss Kreuz
Rating: T
Pairings: Yohji/Ken
Summary: Sent on a mission by themselves, Yohji and Ken are forced to cope with the realities of their job as assassins. By complete accident, they find that comfort with each other.

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/1273336/1/

Really, this fic is utterly awesome, without the kissing and fluff and sex. I couldn't improve it in any way, and s1ncer1ty should be really proud of her skills as a writer.

Title: So Glad to Break it to You
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: K
Pairings: None. But there is Remus abuse.
Summary: 2 November, 1981, and Remus has been isolated for three days. Catching-up isn't quite a chat over tea, not with a vengeful Snape.

This piece is a very, very long one. But it will definitely bring tears to your eyes on that first read through.

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/875259/1/

(x-posted to fanficraves)

New shameless plug

2006-06-10T12:56:14Z

Hey, all. This is my first post. Here's a story I've been working on for the past six months. It started when I was reading a FF7 fic where Sephiroth speaks to Professor Gast in the Lifestream. It made me wonder what might happen had Sephiroth been raised by Gast and Ifalna, alongside Aeris.

Title: Us & Them
Fandom: Final Fantasy 7
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Pseudo-incest
Pairings: Aeris/Sephiroth, Cloud/Tifa, and a couple others.
Summary: When Professor Gast followed the clues leading to Vincent's wherabouts, everything changed. Now, Vincent, Sephiroth and Aeris fight against Shinra alongside the members of Avalanche. However, Jenova's plans for Sephiroth and the Planet haven't changed...
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2708515/1/

Had to. Just.. Had to.

2006-06-07T05:49:57Z

Because Akuroku is the only yaoi pairing that I'll raise my flag to readily... I kind of wanted to write something for it. Then it came to me as I was trying to go to bed. This inspired story came to me. Wonder if I'll keep the inspiration?

Title: One for the Money
Fandom: Kingdom Hearts
Rating: M
Pairings: AxelRoxas
Warnings: Violence, language, implied rape, molestation, murder
Summary: It's a Roarin Twenties AU. Axel has managed to gamble himself into a hole. He's in debt and has at least one death threat on his head. He has three days to pay his debt. Will Roxas be his lucky charm?
(Follow the fake LJ cut!)

ffictionreview @ 2006-05-31T17:18:00

2006-06-01T00:26:53Z

Currently, I'm writing a novella-length fanfiction detailing some of the events that take place before FFX-2. Unfortunately enough for me, concrit isn't very prominant for two reasons. 1) Quite a few people (even those who haven't played it for themselves) avoid it like the plague. 2) Many of the ones that don't aren't the best for giving concrit. While I have been lucky and have several very good reviewers, I'd also like a little more concrit thrown my way. Particularly so with the last chapter I posted, since I finally got into the romance and don't know it it's realistically timed and laid out. Hopefully, someone could find it in there hearts to wade into the fandom of a game that is universely (and in my opinion, wrongly, but I digress) despised to help me. It would be greatly appreciated.

Title: Unwavering Symphony
Fandom: FFX-2
Rating: T, but might go up a bit with chapter 12.
Warnings: Some mild cursing, at least one instance of the "F" word being used.
Pairings: Shuyin/Lenne
Summary: Every story has an ending. Not all of them are happy ones. Thus, the story of Shuyin and Lenne.

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2556031/1/

ffictionreview @ 2006-05-28T16:50:00

2006-05-28T22:49:02Z

So, I'm a Legend of Dragoon fangirl. LoD is a playstation game that gets compartively little recognition and appreciation in the gaming world. Sure, the game itself has its problems (what game doesn't?), but the world created for it is, imho, very interesting.
Unfortunately, there is a TON of badfic, intentional or not, in this fandom. Trying to find or write a good one is like wading through molasses. But we try.

First, a recommendation for a fic that isn't mine.

Title: Rebirth of a Legend, by pyrostriker
Fandom: Legend of Dragoon
Rating: pg13
Summary: The rebirth of the dragoons in modern times.

This is one of the few that's caught my attention and kept it. It's long (80 chapters now, and I think there are/were supposed to be 2 more), but it's got some interesting ideas--I don't necessarily agree with all of them but it's still a good read. :}

And my attempt at a good LoD fic.

Title: Daughter of the Wind
Fandom: Legend of Dragoon
Rating: pg13, for language and violence later
Warnings: It's slightly AU, in that I bent a canon event slightly to avoid the death of one of the characters ^^;. Also, it involves a lot of OCs. Both of these I know are things that not everybody likes, so there's mah warning.
Pairings: None that are of canon characters, unless you count Albert and Emille o_O. The only other pair that really gets worked on is a pair of OCs.
Summary: There was a girl who mysteriously disappeared from Bale before the Second Dragon Campaign. Now she's back, but how? The truth may end up dragging Serdio into yet another war...against an enemy that cannot die.

This is still an active fic. I've only gotten to chapter 17 so far, but it's going to be much, much longer before I'm finally done with it XD.

Meet my fandom and my fic.

2006-05-27T02:01:58Z

I have to admit it, I love reviews.

My fandom is Thunderbirds... yeah, that old 1960s science fiction show with the marionettes. I much prefer the TV show to the 2004 live action movie, but I do have one WIP using the "movie-verse". The short fic below - actually a series of four short vignettes - is what I consider some of my best work. I had a choice of archives, but I thought I might put the spotlight on a smaller, less traveled one: lunaescence.com. Enjoy.

Title: Burning Muses
Fandom: Thunderbirds (TV verse)
Rating: G or K
Warnings: none
Pairings: none
Summary: Brains ponders a problem. Virgil writes a song. John takes a picture. Another Tracy takes up a pen.

Burning Muses

FFVII Parody Fic

2006-05-26T11:03:19Z

Title: This Army Life
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Rating: T/PG-13
Warnings: Insanely funny?
Pairings: Zack/Aeris mentioned but nothing really.

Summary: All is not quiet on the Wutai front, as Sephiroth and Zack do everything possible to screw off and not run a war.

This Army Life

Someone mentioned this somewhere on fanficrants and I followed the link. I'm glad I followed the link!

ffictionreview @ 2006-05-23T20:45:00

2006-05-24T02:53:14Z

So, I wrote this like, three years ago. I'm struck with the sneaking suspicion that my style hasn't changed much since. But I dunno, since it's mine and I'm always looking at it.

Title: Noir
Author: Bartleby
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Ron/Harry
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Harry is afraid of the dark...
Archive: No
Feedback: Uh-huh
Series/Sequel: No
Disclaimer: Harry, the Dursleys, the Weasleys and Hogwarts belong to J.K. Rowling and to Warner Brothers. They're not mine.

Noir

Harry is afraid of the dark, because dark is the first thing he remembers. Fathomless dark spiraling out in front of baby eyes, already fuzzy for wont of glasses. He has his father's eyes. And on some level, he remembers the squarish wire frames that obscured James Potter's eyes. Near sighted like his father and green-eyed like his mother.

And the stairs creak awfully overhead, sending unseen fingers creeping down Harry's spine. The soft murmurings of Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia slithering through the vents become ghost voices in Harry's head. Even Petunia's shadow looming over to drop a bottle, either cold or far too hot, into his crib, became one of the monsters that haunted Harry's dreams.

He grows, as children do, and graduates, finally, to Dudley's old bed, which is too short and has a horrible sag in the middle. Harry also learns that he can make light dance on the tips of his fingers. Fine company until Petunia catches him.

She only catches him once, her face drawing tight. "Never let me catch you at that again." She spits. "Now, get out here and make breakfast, I won't have you making Dudley late for school again." She slams the cupboard door closed with enough vigor to rain plaster down into Harry's hair and bed sheets. She would never catch him again. Harry would make sure of that.

And never mind that Harry is late for school almost every day, and some days he doesn't make it at all. Especially on Tuesdays. Because Tuesday is laundry day, and Harry is charged with hauling the family's laundry to the launderette.

Harry doesn't mind it so much. He's learned to ignore the pitying stares and the stunned murmurs of people shocked at the sight of an urchin, in ridiculously outsized clothes, sitting atop a machine scribbling away at his schoolwork. And it's a few hours away from his aunt's shrill voice and Dudley's whining and random, but well placed punches.

He never speaks to anyone.

It has become normal for his teachers to cluck their tongues and extend due dates and assign make-up work. Because, in spite of everything, Harry is always an impeccable student.

This is far more than anyone can say for Dudley. But Harry has no one to coo over his scholastic achievements and give him treats for a job well done. So, he lauds himself as best as he knows how, congratulating himself for his achievements. He huddles alone in his cupboard, the lights in the palms of his hands chasing the shadows away from the corners and away from his heart.

His Hogwarts letter arrives the week before his twelfth birthday. He doesn't recognize the seal pressed into the wax on the back of the envelope, or the handwriting on the front, but it's addressed to him. And it imparts in him a strange sort of excitement that makes his fingers tremble as he picks at the wax to unseal the letter.

And then all is dashed when Dudley nastily snatches the letter from his hands and hands it over to Uncle Vernon. Harry feels betrayed. There had always been hope before this, hope that maybe they didn't hate him as much as it seemed.

Harry knows that whatever is in that letter is his chance out. And he also knows that Vernon and Petunia will never let him take the chance.

But apparently, no one refuses an invitation to Hogwarts. At least not Harry Potter.

And so he finds himself in the berth of a train with a red haired, freckled boy named Ron Wealsely. Harry had counted on making the trip alone, and so he appreciates the company of another person. They chat a bit, until the trolley dolly comes by and reminds Harry that he's brought nothing to eat. But he does have a pocket full of the gold galleons that were his parent's legacy to him. And when Ron pulls out an awful looking sandwich, Harry offers to buy the whole cart. He probably won't ever get a chance like this again, and it seems like a kind thing to let Ron have his pick.

It surprises Harry when Ron takes the time to educate him on the All-Flavor Beans, and make sure he doesn't eat any of the vomit or earwax flavored ones. Because Dudley never would have done that. In fact, Harry doesn't think he's ever known anyone who would have done that for him.

"Earwax?" He asks.

Ron shrugs noncommentally and eats a roast beef flavored one. "They are all flavor, after all. And some people like them." He grins a little. "My brother Fred loves them, but I think that's mostly to annoy my mother."

And so, it's decided that they're friends. Harry's never had a friend before, though. He isn't sure how to act or how to treat one. And part of him believes that there might be a condition attached, or that anything could change it. He resolves that he must be careful. It's a terrible thing to be alone.

They are roomed together, which Harry is grateful for. He doesn't think that he could start over with someone new. And his new room is enormous and the bed is a real bed with four posters and a thick downy comforter and long enough for a growing boy to stretch out on. There is a perch for Hedwig, and a desk and a wardrobe of his very own.

Except he really hasn't got much to put in or on either of them.

Ron is balanced precariously on the edge of his bed, putting up posters and pennants with thumbtacks that certainly shouldn't be able to penetrate the stone walls. But that isn't the strangest thing Harry's seen today, and there will surely be stranger things still so, he ignores it.

"Haven't you got anything to unpack, Harry?" Ron asks over his shoulder, bare toes curling in the blankets on the edge of his mattress as though that might halt his slide to the floor.

Harry shakes his head.

Ron half throws himself backwards, landing on his back, as hard as would be possible, in the center of his mattress. "Well we can't have your walls looking all bare like that, can we?" He leans over the edge of his bed and rummages through his trunk. "Hang this."

Harry unrolls the poster of a man with a little golden ball pinched between his fingers. He is using his other hand to wave at whoever is viewing the poster. "Who is he?"

Ron arches surprised brows. "Who is he? Bloody hell! Kurt Rawling!" Harry looks at him blankly. "Only the greatest seeker who ever lived!"

"Seeker?"

"You know, quidditch."

"What is quidditch?"

Ron smiles. "You've got a lot to learn." He says and drops a few thumbtacks into Harry's palm. "Let's get that hung up."

"I can't take this." Harry hands the poster back. "I haven't got anything to give you in return."

Ron looks at him strangely. "What made you think you'd have to?" He bounces a little. "Now, hurry, we can't be late for dinner."

XXXX

At Hogwarts, it's lights out precisely at nine-thirty, every torch in every hallway, except those near the lavatories winks out. One after another as though snuffed by the pinch of invisible fingers. First through third-years are to be in bed by ten, even though the common rooms are always abuzz with activity well afterwards, and there is always a prefect or a head boy or girl to make sure that the little ones are at least in their rooms, if not in bed as well. And though they are usually a little more lenient with the second and third years, it is certain that all first years will be found and herded into their rooms.

Seeing no reason to argue, Harry allows himself to be pushed into his room, Ron behind him, putting up a little bit more of a fight. But only because that's in Ron's nature and not out of any real desire to stay up.

Harry begins dressing for bed immediately, and quickly, the old castle is full of chinks and drafts and he's grateful that he bought the flannel pyjamas Hagrid told him to buy. The very first pair he had ever owned, cream colored with black stripes, and he is frightfully proud of them. But now is no time for a fashion show, it's far too cold for that. He clambers onto his bed and tries to blow out his candle. It sputters and yawns, but doesn't go out. Harry tries again with similar results; in fact, it seems to be burning brighter and hotter than before.

"You can't do it that way." Ron says. "They're charmed. Do it like this." He stares at the flame for a moment and then says in a commanding tone: "De Illuminus!" And his candle flares up and then winks out.

Harry tries the same. "De Illuminus." Though his voice quavers. But the candle goes out with little protest and the shadows spring up to wrap themselves around Harry's small form. It isn't as dark as the cupboard; to be sure, the moon shines silver light through a single window. But the window is on Ron's side of the room and doesn't shed enough light to assuage Harry's fears.

He scrambles under the comforter, dragging the heavy down over the top of himself, fully knowing that it won't protect him from whatever he thinks is lurking in the shadows.

There, he lays curled into a frightened ball for quite some time. He can't say how long, only that his calves are cramping and that he must move or he'll be miserable in the morning. On the other side of the room, Ron sighs, a soft shuddery sigh, and swallows a sob. And Harry knows the sound.

"Are you all right?" He asks into the darkness.

"I'm not crying." Ron says, his voice is raw and Harry can hear the tears in it. "'M just a little homesick."

Harry dares to peek out from under the comforter. "You can. Sleep in my bed, if you want."

"What?" Ron rolls half over.

"I can keep you company. And. I'm um, cold."

Ron appears to think about this for a moment. "All right." He says and sits up, glancing about the room as though afraid someone might catch him. And then he's in Harry's bed, curled up under the blankets with his back to the other boy. Harry can hear Ron's breath ease a bit and Ron's warmth helps ward off the shadows. He smiles. And proceeds the have the first restful night of sleep he can remember.

It becomes a habit for the two of them to find comfort in one another. The two of them huddled under Ron's quilt with chocolate frogs melting in their fingers, Ron clutching Harry's hand at the back of the class during a particularly difficult potions test. They curl together in Harry's bed, back to back, and on bad nights, Ron huddles against Harry's side, weeping hotly into the collar of Harry's pyjamas until he falls asleep.

Harry secretly likes these nights best of all.

Ron does too.

And for some reason, it's never strange. In spite of whispers and meaningful looks and innuendo, they see no reason to stop what they've been doing.

Harry starts spending more time at the Weasley's in the summers. Because no matter what kind of creative cage Uncle Vernon manages to put Harry in, Fred and George will always find a way to spring him out. They're really quite fond of him, even though neither would openly admit it.

And Mrs. Weasley is always happy to see Harry, and always has the trundle under Ron's bed made up neatly and proper clothes for him to wear. Normally Ron's magicked to fit Harry's slimmer and slightly shorter frame. She always knows his size, no matter how much he grows between visits.

Ron's room is on the fourth landing of hole cut and folded in the space between the kitchen ceiling and the attic floor, made by his father when he realized he would not be able to afford the additions required to house his ever expanding brood.

It's small and terribly orange, but it's Ron's and Harry loves it from the moment he lays eyes on it. Best of all, the room seems imparted with a soft, ever pervasive glow that soothes Harry and keeps all the shadows at bay. He sleeps in Ron's bed anyway. Because it feels good to have the other boy snugged up behind him.

And with each passing year, Harry's fear of the dark becomes worse and worse. It's his turn to lay curled against Ron's side, weeping hot tears in his collar. Ron is more than happy to return the favor.

Harry bears more than a boy wizard should have to bear alone.

They kiss for the first time in a field of blue and pink wildflowers, sprinkled in Devon dusk with Mrs. Weasley's voice calling over the hills for them to come to dinner. Harry is content, just for a moment, to sit astride Ron's hips and smile down at him. Ron's broad mouth splits into merry laughter and Harry dips in for another kiss, swallowing Ron's voice, and his tongue, whole.

"I love you, Harry." Ron says solemnly, blue eyes bright as though he's been drinking too much butterbeer.

And Harry feels as though he's the one who's been drinking. Swoony and dizzy-like and he says:

"I love you, too, Ron."

"I always did, you know."

Harry realizes he does know. Because he always did too.

Mrs. Weasley's voice rises in pitch and her tone becomes more clipped, and even though Harry isn't really listening to her, he knows what she's probably shouting. Ron tumbles him into the grass and dead leaves. He's growing his hair out like Bill's and it's grown long enough now to brush his shirt collar, and Harry thinks he likes it better this way.

"Harry! Ron! HarryRon!" Ginny stands over them, breathlessly, with her hands braced on her knees. And then she looks at them. Really looks. Her eyes get huge and knowing. "Mumsaysyou'renottoooldforaspanking," Breath. "Andifyoudon'tgethomerightawayshe'sgoingtoprooveit." She says and then turns and sprints back towards the house.

Harry and Ron take their time because Ron is so too old for a spanking. And he knows that his mother would never give him one. She never has before, even when he really deserved it.

She smiles at Harry and gives Ron a slightly cross look as they sit at her table. Ron curls his mouth into a crooked smile, the look softens a bit, and she helps them both to an extra spoonful of mash.

Ever polite, Harry says, "Thank you, Mrs. Weasley."

Mrs. Weasley smiles brightly at Harry and lightly cuffs his jaw. "Molly, son. Call me Molly."

Harry and Ginny exchange a look, and Ron smiles into his potatoes and kicks Harry's foot under the table.

~Fin

This one I wrote about five months ago. It's RPF, but I don't think it would be necessary to know who the people are to understand the story.

Title: That Girl
Fandom: Queens of the Stone Age
Characters: Mark Lanegan, Nick Oliveri, Brody Dalle, Troy VanLeeuwen
Prompt: #85 She
Word Count: 323
Rating: PG, but only barely
Summary: Genderfuck, you know you love it
Disclaimer: These people aren't mine, I don't know them, I don't claim to. This is all fiction.
Warnings: The word "dyke"

It should have been old hat by now, but waking up a girl for the past two weeks is really starting to make Mark lose his cool. He's back up to almost a pack a day again and he starves for a hit, slouching around in Brody's clothes, which are too big on top and too short on the bottom, hopefully looking surly enough to keep everyone away.

He's failing, though. He knows because every time he growls it comes out all wrong and Brody gives him a big hug and Nick mocks him openly. And Troy is forever offering fashion tips.

"Well, you look like such a dyke!" He says in exasperation.

Mark yanks the barrettes out of his hair and runs his hands through it until it stands more on end than usual.

"You're one to talk," he roars, though it comes out more like a shriek. "You know fuck all about woman's fashion anyway!" And he stomps off trailing ribbons and silk and lace.

Although, he admits to himself, his legs *do* look better in stockings.

And it's should be enough to still pass as a guy at 6'5", even with the peaches and cream complexion, if he dresses baggy enough. But his shoulders are too narrow and his hips are too wide and his breasts too perky and he keeps running into things with this ungainly, swaying walk that's more a glide than a stride. He can't even go get a pack of cigarettes without people goggling at him.

Look at that fuckin' girl, I wonder if the legs go all the way up.

And Mark doesn't even know what that means. He offers what he hopes is a withering glare, and probably isn't, and finds himself flouncing out of the store. Which totally ruins any sort of intimidating he'd been planning on doing.

But he clearly can't look *that* much like a dyke. And that makes him smile.

~fin

And a sequel...

Title: Don't Dream It...
Fandom: Queens of the Stone Age
Characters: Mark Lanegan, Brody Dalle, PJ Harvey
Prompt: #40 Sight
Word Count: 197
Rating: G
Summary: The continuing adventures of Girl!Mark Lanegan
Disclaimer: These people aren't mine, I don't know them, I don't claim to. This is all fiction.

It takes very little convincing to get Brody to help him pick out a bra. In their ever rotating cast of characters, he's the closest to a permanent other girl there's ever been and as rough and tough as Brody is, there are things in the world that only another girl could understand.

Mark gets that now.

They run into Polly Jean at the VC, which is completely surreal, only not because how often does one go bra shopping with Brody Dalle, or, in this case, at all.

"Hello Polly Jean." Mark says, because with him, it's never just Polly, always Polly Jean.

And she eyes him a moment before bursting into laughter. "Oh, Mark, you look horrible in drag." She chides.

Mark feels his face heat. "I'm not in drag." He says softly.

"Oh." Polly Jean replies. "Oh!" And of course she's heard of this happening; don't they read the Weekly World News? They don't. And she stands for a moment, chewing on her bright red lips and looking at them with mild discomfort.

"I didn't mean it, Mark." She says, finally. "You look great." And she is gone in a curly swirl of black hair.

~Fin

So. In my own TL;DR kind of way, I'd like some feedback, please and thank you. Have I changed as a writer? For the better or the worse?

Pimping my fandom. :)

2006-05-23T20:13:42Z

Not one of my fics, though.

Title: The Conquered

Fandom: Guyver

Rating: T, for violence and language

Warnings: none

Pairings: Sho/Mizuki Agito/Shizu minor Zektor/Elegen

Summary: The destruction of Chronos does not lead to peace. It leads to a new world tyrant. But that Government cannot face the Advents and Earth is lost, leading to a quest among the stars.

This is one of the longest WIPs for Guyver that I've read. A very good one, too. It focuses on Sho and Agito for the most part, but Aptom, Imakarum and the other characters do get a fair amount of time of their own. The thing that most caught me was the seer ruthlessness of the Advents when theyh returned. It fit, considering just what the Advents designed the human race to be in the Guyver manga.

Still, it was a very interesting read. Nice long chapters, too.

The Link: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/473336/1/

Time for some of my own self-pimpage!

2006-05-23T16:48:39Z

Alright. I'll try to keep my self pimping down, because God knows I want to do a lot of it. :D

So, I'll just start with my one-shot.

Title: My Best Friend
Fandom: Kingdom Hearts II
Rating: T, for minor cursing
Warnings: None
Pairings: Very, very, very light Akuroku. (Aren't you all sick of that by now? XD)
Summary: Everyone knows the nobodies lack feelings. Yet, why did Axel focus so many of his motives around Roxas? What was so great about their friendship?

Here the story be!

Also, I guess I should mention this. Try to review if you can for stories pimped out here. This is mainly for those who think they need more feedback, so... Yeah. Try to deliver. XD

Peace!
-Raina, who needs to get more people to join

ffictionreview @ 2006-05-23T06:43:00

2006-05-23T12:48:48Z

An attempt at self-pimpage...Because something is better than nothing, I suppose, even if it is just an idiotic drabble.

Title: 3 Vices of a Shinobi
Fandom: Naruto
Rating: PG, just to be safe
Warnings: None
Pairings: None
Summary: Orochimaru muses about his teammates, and the things that can bring a ninja down. [Sannin-centric Drabble]

Here it be.

I shamelessly try for first self-pimping post. 8D; Why hlo thar

2006-05-23T05:17:53Z

Title: + Ange et Diable +

Fandom: La Pucelle Tactics, first and foremost, somewhat an unavoidable Disgaea and Makai Kingdom crossover. If you don't know the fandom, I'll gratefully welcome concrits on writing style alone. ♥ Just bear in mind the narrative bits and bizarre Next Chapter previews are a hallmark of the games the story is based in.

Rating: T

Warnings (if there are any): None I can think of. 8D; A li'l violent in bits, but nothing worse than, say, LotR's Helm's Deep.

Pairings (if there are any): Maybe in the future, but I'm really trying for plot first. XD; Um....Demon Overlord Culotte brings all the girls to the yard?

Summary: And so ends a tale that would become a legend...a story of a girl who came to rule over all demons as the Demon Overlord Prier. Not quite...

Here goes!

Merci! :3

Happy Mask Salesgirl

Also, one of the most amazing Makai Kingdom stories evah, by Rayless Night!

Title: Wishes

Fandom: Makai Kingdom

Rating: T

Warnings (if there are any): None.

Pairings (if there are any): Zetta x Salome.

Summary: A history of Salome The Traitor. Complete.

Join me in giving her much deserved reviewings, favings, and alerts. ♥ You won't be sorry!