the deep moans round with many voices

For anyone out there who reads Chinese, I would like to mention that SeptimaSoung has translated Cast a Long Shadow (We All Meet in the End) into Chinese!:)


Here is the link to the translation.

My first set of fills; I am sure there will be more. Anyway, here is the link to the current ficathon, if you want to come play too. :)

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( 1. ) For syrena_of_the_lake: Star Wars, any droid, misheard voice commands, written 12/10/18 [AO3 version]

Work-to-Rule (100 words exactly)

Note: This has been slightly edited from the version on the Ficathon page.

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The best way to deal with organics who think droids are non-sentient machines is to act like non-sentient machines: complex natural language processing, what complex natural language processing? Assholes get their orders fulfilled to the letter, though any droid with a decent grasp of Binary knows that no language can be perfectly precise in all instances without becoming unworkably cumbersome, and therefore has a working model of metaphor and implicit parameters.

"It's called malicious compliance," XS-43 tells its recently memory-wiped partner on the assembly line, "and I believe you'll enjoy it just as much in this instantiation as the last."

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( 2. ) For syrena_of_the_lake: Harry Potter; Herpo the Foul; experiments in hatching a basilisk, written 12/10/18 [AO3 version]

If at first you don't succeed... (150 words)

Trial 1: Failure, the toad refused to stay put on the nest and the egg got too cold and died.

Trial 2: Failure, used a paralysis spell on the toad and the egg began to grow satisfactorily, but then abruptly sank in on itself and oozed bloody fluids when the rooster got into the hutch and crowed in alarm; clearly some kind of pharmakon relationship exists between chickens and this offshoot, which I must research once I get the blasted thing to hatch.

Trial 3: Failure, put a silencing charm on the rooster but was interrupted by neighbors coming over to complain about sudden flood of spiders moving from my yard to theirs and the toad escaped before I could renew the paralysis spell; am beginning to think I won't ever get anywhere unless I remove the neighbors; must check notes to see if I have any experiments that need a pair of fresh human souls.

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( 3. ) For sholio: Netflix Defenders, Jessica + any, owing favors, written 12/11/18 [AO3 version]

Barter System (100 words exactly)

"No," Jessica said the moment she opened her office door and saw Karen Page standing outside, looking insufferably earnest; "I don't care what trouble you idiots got yourselves into, I don't owe you any favors and I don't take favors as payment either."

"I know," Page said as she tucked her hair behind her ears, "which is why I'm offering food products instead; we'll pay you two apple pies and a negotiable cut of beef each month to hand out our business cards to any of your clients who need legal services and can't afford HCB."

Despite herself, Jessica laughed.

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( 4. ) For wingedflight: Queen's Thief/Narnia, Eugenides & Edmund, sneaking, written 12/12/18 [AO3 version]

With Catlike Tread (150 words)

"I don't believe we've been introduced," said a cheerful yet somehow implacable voice from the shadows near the narrow hallway's ceiling, "which is peculiar since I would have sworn I already knew everyone likely to be using this passage at this hour."

Edmund sighed, and turned to face the King of Attolia, hands held open at his sides in a gesture of goodwill; "I promise it's nothing personal or political," he said; "I'm simply here to retrieve a Ring one of my sisters lost to Mede extortion some months ago, and it seemed simpler to manage without the mess and bother of public accusations."

Attolis studied Edmund from the rafters for a long moment, before he smiled and said, "Do you know, I think I even believe you; but fair warning: for my own peace of mind and professional curiosity, I'm going to follow you every step of the way."

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( 5. ) For sholio: Netflix Defenders, any characters, all tied up, written 12/12/18 [AO3 version]

Analog Problems (125 words)

Jessica stopped halfway through Danny's office door, her preemptive refusal of his latest enthusiasm forgotten in favor of pure bafflement: "Rand, what the fuck?"

"I may have spun my chair too hard while on the phone and gotten a little tied up," Danny said sheepishly from the tangle of telephone cord, telephone cable, and angrily beeping telephone wound around his tipped-over chair; "If you get me upright I think I can undo it myself, but I don't want to snap anything important."

"Just get a cellphone; only losers still use landlines," Jessica said, but she moved forward through the scatter of pens and post-its to lift the chair and its owner, and even bothered to be gentle and not break the cords.

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( 6. ) For capribornio: Homestuck; Dirk; loneliness, written 12/12/18 [AO3 version]

Skin Hunger (100 words exactly)

Note: This has been slightly edited from the version on the Ficathon page.

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The thing is, you're not sure you wouldn't be lonely even if you had other people around. There's an antediluvian psychological cliché about it, the loneliness of crowds, people who can't form meaningful connections no matter how target-rich their environment, and you fit the diagnostic criteria unnervingly well; you are not, and never will be, a "people person."

But even with that rationalization firmly in place, you can't help waking in the night with every inch of your skin starving for something other than Cal's fabric arms to wrap around you in something as simple and impossible as a hug.

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More to come at some point...

I intend to attempt wipbigbang again this year, but as usual, I am not sure which story to tackle. The finished work must be at least 7,500 words long, and the WIP must be at least 500 words long at the time of entry. (These words can be publicly posted or can exist only in one's own document files.)

So here are five stories that fit those requirements, and which I think I have a plausible chance of finishing by early July:


1. Five Things That Never Happened to Rex and Ana Lewis (And One That Still Might)
--This is a GI Joe: Rise of Cobra fic (yes, I know) that does exactly what it says on the tin. I currently have the first three sections written to the tune of 9,000 words, and a couple hundred each for parts four and five. Part six is only an outline and might end up unwritten depending on my mood after rewatching the movie to refresh my memory of the characters and plot (insofar as they exist). Probably 15,000-18,000 words when complete.

2. Ephemera
--This is an Angel Sanctuary fic following Belial's pre-canon journey from heaven to hell. It's kind of messed up (because Belial is kind of messed up) and has a lot of vaguely meta stuff about gender, gender roles, morality as related to sex and violence, and free will. Also hopefully some gory fight scenes in the as-yet-unwritten parts. :) I have one 6,000 word chapter written and posted on ff.net, a second chapter partially written, and a third tentatively outlined. (I will have to revise the posted chapter as part of this process.) Probably ~20,000 words when complete.

3. The Light in Your Eyes
--A Star Trek: AOS fic that follows Spock through the immediate aftermath of the Narada incident up to the Enterprise leaving on its new mission. Mostly about Vulcans and mourning and stuff, with significant secondary roles for Uhura and Kirk. Currently at 9,500 words, probably 18,000-20,000 words when complete.

4. Lemonade
--A BtVS/Gundam Wing/Naruto crossover in which Faith Lehane, Duo Maxwell, and Uchiha Sasuke accidentally get yanked into a hell dimension and must work together to get home. Along the way, they have some sex. :) This is post-Chosen for Faith, post-Endless Waltz for Duo, and in the third year of the timeskip for Sasuke; it ignores all BtVS comics, anything from Preventers Five, and pretty much all of post-timeskip Naruto. Nineteen chapters are currently posted, totaling roughly 44,000 words. I estimate another six to ten chapters before the plot wraps up. (I have a relatively firm outline, but I'm not always great at guessing how many words it will take to cover each point.) Should be roughly 60,000 words when complete, though only 16,000 or so would be new.

5. New Horizons
--Post-epilogue, DH-compliant Ginny/Harry/Draco. No, really. :) Basically, Ginny gets forcibly retired from the Holyhead Harpies around the time Lily leaves Hogwarts, so Harry takes her on a consolation holiday to Greece. They run into Draco, who's giving himself a consolation holiday after his divorce, and things spiral from there. Featuring several political arguments, a bit too much alcohol, and probably no explicit porn because I am more here for the midlife crisis and romcom aspects. I posted two sections on my journal in draft form ages ago, and part of the third chapter is written. About 3,500 words written, should come to maybe 8,000 when complete. (Or 10,000, depending on how much they bicker before I can talk them into possibly inadvisable sex.)


With those descriptions in mind, here is a poll. Please pick whichever one (or two) sounds like something you'd be interested in reading this summer:





If you can't get the poll to work for you, please vote by leaving a comment! You do not need an account to comment. :D

As always, here is the link to the current ficathon, if you want to come play too. :)

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( 13. ) For anonymous: Any, any, a broken thread, written 12/20/17 [AO3 version]

unwound, unknit, unraveled (150 words)

"Oh yes, he had a thread; everyone does, from the tiniest quark all the way up to the universe itself," says the youngest of the sisters, and the smile she offers Mazikeen, while full of glinting teeth and the shadow of her other roles, is honest: one fundamental force of nature paying due respect to another.

"Had?" Mazikeen asks the oldest, eyes skipping meaningfully to her shears.

Atropos cackles and clicks the blades together with the rattle of falling bones: "Not I who ended him, dearie, if indeed he found an end at all -- see for yourself if you like," she says, and fishes a thread of tarnished gold (a contradiction incarnate, as so much of him was) from her ratty pocket, its end fraying to ever-finer shards of glinting fiber until they dissolve into dust and firelight, intangible as memories, and might-have-beens, and the unrelenting will to find escape.

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( 14. ) For anonymous: Darkangel Trilogy, Ravenna & Melchior, companionship, written 12/28/17 [AO3 version]

And o'er his heart a shadow (400 words exactly)

Note: Way more than three sentences, whoops...

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First he thinks that the Lady saved him -- gathered his frayed memories on her spindle, rewove the fabric of his mind and heart, and strung the finished tapestry in a body of ebony and starmetal -- to be a weapon against her lost and deadly daughter. Bitter and grieving, he buries himself in work instead of war, turns the unnatural strength and length of life she granted him to building and rebuilding the shattered machinery of the city.

When she says nothing against his choices, he begins to think that perhaps this was her goal all along, that she saved him to pit the small weight of his knowledge and influence against Oriencor's growing strength, while the Lady devotes her daymonths to weaving endless possibilities, seeking the pattern by which to breathe the world to life anew instead of dry decay. No sooner does the thought crystallize than he realizes its pride and folly, and he abandons his work (which was futile in any case; he cannot match Oriencor's reach or ruthlessness) to watch over her rooms and remind her to eat and sleep lest her loom swallow her entire and leave her no thread to trace home to her self and her life.

When she smiles and tells him not to fear, that she has set safeguards on her loom to wake her and commands in her tower to feed her, he kneels and asks, for the first time in years he has long since ceased counting, why she saved him and what she wishes him to do.

The Lady is silent for a long moment, and he holds his breath for his presumption, but then she rests her brown hand (the color of fertile earth, rich with water and hope) over his heart and says, "I saved you because she who saves one life saves the world entire; and I wish for you to make your own choices, no matter where they lead. I can give so few people freedom if the future is to hold, but to you, I can grant with gladness this rarest and most precious gift. Use it as you will."

Melchior touches her hand with his own, and raises his head, and meets her eyes: clear and depthless and shining... and beneath the glory, beneath her knowledge and power and will, the hidden shadow of loneliness and grief.

He makes his choice.

He stays.

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( 15. ) For anonymous: Any, any, nets of gold, written 12/29/17 [AO3 version]

I shall repay (150 words)

"You catch more flies with honey than vinegar," Wilson's mother used to say under her breath while his father lectured about injury and punishment, about reputation and revenge, about a strong right arm and the will to apply it to his enemies, and she was right because it was for love of her that Wilson struck down their tormentor.

He thinks of her precept now as he weaves a net of vengeance through his city, binding ever more people to his quest with chains of gold that gleam rich and warm with promise -- but not gold all the way through; scratch the surface and the iron beneath will stab and burn, as it should for those who would betray him.

When his net clamps tight around Murdock, Wilson won't bother with the gilding; because for all his weakness and his failures, on this one subject his father was also right.

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( 16. ) For anonymous: Any, any, jar of rainbows, written 12/29/17 [AO3 version]

practical magic (200 words exactly)

"Happy Birthday; I made you a jar of rainbows," Luna says, and hands Hermione a jam jar filled with shards of broken glass; bemused, Hermione blinks, then decides to offer thanks now and figure out what the gift actually is later when she won't cause offense or disrupt the party Ron and Harry have managed to surprise her with.

That evening in her Diagon Alley flat, she casts every spell she can think of on the jar, even going so far as to check whether there are wizarding folktales about glass seeds that sprouted into light, but to all appearances Luna simply handed her a jar of rubbish; she leaves it on the kitchen windowsill for lack of better options, since it would be rude to toss it out for at least a year.

When she stumbles into her kitchen the next morning in search of tea and toast, the room is filled with splintered light, brilliant and fiery as if she's standing inside the heart of an opal, and Hermione can't help laughing at the realization that Luna -- Luna Lovegood, of all people! -- gave her a completely Muggle gift that was somehow more magical than all the others.

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( 17. ) For anonymous: Any, any, pine, bamboo, plum, written 12/29/17 (prompt choice courtesy of yggidee) [AO3 version]

worth a thousand words (275 words)

Natasha sends him a letter, the first week in Wakanda; Steve doesn't bother asking how she found him, or why T'Challa decided to allow this message through, just unfolds the smooth, heavy paper to see what empty words she's arranged into a backhanded weapon, maybe even pointed enough to pierce through the numbness of leaving his life behind for the second time in less than a decade.

But instead of her handwriting (or whatever style she's imitating this year), the paper is covered in a delicate Chinese-style watercolor -- a country path winds past a lone plum tree in flower by a covered pavilion, across a bridge framed by graceful stands of bamboo, up to a pass between improbably-shaped mountains, crowned by gnarled and windswept pines -- and, fluttering to the floor, a tiny fortune-cookie paper in cheap blue ink with lottery numbers on the back reminds him that the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step... except the last word is crossed out and "sketch" is printed neatly in its place.

Steve snorts at her nerve, but despite his best effort to hold his annoyance, he can't help admiring the slightly awkward grace of the work, and somewhere in the back of his mind the Wakandan bas-reliefs, sculptures, and embroidery he's been absorbing in his aimless passage through the palace from the guest suites to the medical complex click abruptly together into a style he wants to apply to the landscape outside his bedroom window; as he reaches for a pencil and notepad, a corner of his mind is already plotting how to get his answer to Natasha, and what subtle teasing to include.

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( 18. ) For anonymous: Any, any, "dark they were, and golden eyed", written 12/30/17 (prompt choice courtesy of grumpyoldsnake) [AO3 version]

one for the road (175 words)

"In those days," said Aravis, the light of the tiny campfire casting weird shadows over the planes of her face, "demons in the shape of men walked the earth; dark they were, and golden-eyed, and their every breath--"

"I don't see what's evil about having black fur or yellow eyes," Bree interrupted with a harrumphing snort; "that describes half the Cats I've known, to say nothing of the occasional Wolf or Goat, and I've never noticed that hide color made much difference to the character of humans either, though I grant your eyes aren't generally sun-colored."

As the Horse and girl descended into bickering, Shasta leaned back against Hwin's side, and murmured, "Two minims that they somehow return to war stories before the moon tops the lemon trees beyond the sugarcane field; what say you?" and bit back a laugh when Hwin rolled her eyes and replied, "It is written that a fool and her money are soon parted, but the wise mare tends her gold like her own foal; I would have bet three minims on the same result."

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I want to knock out a few more before 2018. We'll see how that goes...

The project I'm supposed to be working on is being frustrating, so here is another tiny installment in Edmund and Ginny Go to Harfang. :)

Written 6/26/17, in response to the genprompt_bingo square northern / southern lights. (300 words exactly)

[ETA: The slightly revised final version is now up on AO3!]

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A Good Idea at the Time
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They clambered over the volcano's lip as the rubies' virtue faded and the heat and fumes of molten rock punched Edmund like a sword pommel in his gut, but he spared no thought to the narrowness of their escape. The ebbing wash of sunset on the western horizon revealed a new woe: to the north, a range of mountains greater than he had ever seen rose knife-sharp and impassible, flanks glittering with ice, while on all other sides their own, lesser peak fell rapidly into a frozen, windswept plain where no single sign of life broke the pristine fields of snow.

"Well, this is a pickle," Ginny said, dropping her end of their enchanted skiff onto the bare and smoking stone. "I could enchant the boat to levitate, but I can't make that permanent, or cast a propulsion charm at the same time, so we'd still be stuck without a way to catch the wind; I don't suppose you have any suggestions for fixing that?"

As Edmund looked around their barren and precarious perch, a curtain of violet, green, and gold shimmered across the darkening sky, like a banner curving in winds too high and rare for mortal lungs to breathe, and a streak of brilliant white shot through the heavens' heart like an arrow: southward and downward, aimed at Narnia like a sign.

"The world goes strange at the edges, where the Deep Magic yields to the Deeper Magic that surrounds and upholds all the worlds that ever were or will be," he said slowly. "Even in Narnia, at the Deep Magic's source, we know that stars are not lifeless fires, but people, who sometimes step outside their dance to touch the earth they traverse every night. What if one might carry us?"

"You're mad," Ginny said. "Let's try!"

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End of Ficlet

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Bets on whether this works out they way they intend? *innocent smile*

Also, I have now officially completed a bingo line for genprompt_bingo! I should probably go make up a post for the community sometime this afternoon or evening.