the deep moans round with many voices

Link to prompt post one (closed for prompts, still open for fills)

Link to prompt post two (closed for prompts, still open for fills)

Link to prompt post three (open for prompts!)

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( 7. ) For anonymous, in response to the prompt: Any, any, dysfunctional found family, written 1/14/25

But Not (Quite) Broken (215 words)

Fandom = Nine Worlds

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"Does it make me a terrible person that I occasionally feel it might have been for the best that the Silver Forest scattered us across the nine worlds?" Jullanar asked Sardeet over the table, heavily laden with tea and cakes and dishes of glazed fruit and bowls of sugared ice; "By that point, I'm not sure most of us much liked each other anymore, but Fitzroy would have reacted... ah... badly, shall we say, to any suggestion that we part ways in a less dramatic fashion, and the consequences of any wild magic he might have flung around in response don't bear thinking of, neither for what he might have done to us in a panic, nor for the sort of person (to say nothing of the sort of Emperor!) he might have become with that in his past. What did happen was horrific, of course, but at least it left us with a memory of friendship strained rather than utterly shattered."

Sardeet popped a slice of peach into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully before saying, "I think those are entirely understandable feelings, and in any case actions are what truly matter when weighing a person's virtue -- that said, I wouldn't mention those thoughts around Fitzroy unless he or his Kip raise the possibility first."

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( 8. ) For lumiosecity, in response to the prompt: Any two fandoms, any crossover ship, second date, written 1/15/25

Warning Signs (195 words)

Fandoms = Chronicles of Narnia/The Dark Is Rising

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"This has been a thoroughly enjoyable evening, Merriman," Professor Pevensie said as she folded and set aside her napkin and reached for the glass of eiswein she had ordered to accompany her dessert, "but if you would like me to agree to a third such outing, to say nothing of anything beyond, I think we had best lay our cards on the table: I know that you're much older than you look, that you have some magical responsibility you consider dreadfully important, and that you have been subtly angling since we first met to discover if I have traveled through time. I propose to answer any questions you have if -- and only if! -- you can reassure me that you have no intention of ever using children as pawns in your great game, however necessary that may seem."

As Merriman drank a measured sip of his own whiskey, buying time to order his thoughts, Professor Pevensie added, "Ends may seem as though they justify means, my dear, but I assure you that means have a way of shaping ends in their own likeness, and I should hate to think badly of a man I otherwise respect."

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( 9. ) For wingedflight, in response to the prompt: any, any, lyrics do not work on me, written 1/16/25

Points for Effort (140 words)

Fandom = The Magnus Archives

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"Roses come in many colors/ violets are purple or white/ this poem is just to ask/ you to cook golabki tonight?" Martin read in a voice that, while it didn't quiver or break into laughter, was nonetheless tinged with an unmistakable air of incredulity.

"I know I'm somehow worse at writing poetry than I am at understanding or savoring it," Jon said, apparently unembarrassed at Martin's (shamefully) obvious judgment of his wordsmithing, "but I thought that if I enjoy your work because it's yours, you might appreciate if I made an effort, and the base format I started from is considered traditionally romantic -- I'm also open to tutoring if you think that might help."

Martin pulled him into a hug, the scrap of doggerel still clutched tightly in one hand; "You're ridiculous and I can't believe that worked on me."

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( 10. ) For topaz_eyes, in response to the prompt: Any, any, I’m counting the steps to the door of your heart, written 1/21/25

The Ones That Got Away (150 words)

Fandom = Nine Worlds

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Before her theft of the Lady's son, Violet mattered in the way of any valuable possession; after, Lark found her thoughts turning increasingly to ways to win her back, the same way Jemis had only truly begun to preoccupy her after he tore free, impossibly, from her snares at Morrowlea: Violet had declared herself an opponent rather than an obstacle or a tool, finally worthy of attention. Someone worth the effort to keep.

That both of Lark's erstwhile lovers feared and hated her was beside the point; obedience could be compelled (now that she knew compulsion was needed) and love was perfectly compatible with nearly any emotion aside from apathy; once she had them in her hands, she merely needed time to find and unlock the doors into their hearts, patience to thread the labyrinth of their limits and desires, until those brilliant, reckless souls hunted willingly at her command.

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( 11. ) For rionaleonhart, in response to the prompt: Any fandom, the first two characters to come to mind when you see this prompt, only one bed, written 1/21/25

An Attempt Was Made (150 words)

Fandom = Chronicles of Narnia

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"Um," Lucy said as she pushed aside the flap of the tent the Narnians had directed them toward, and which a Leopard and a Hare had boasted, quite excitedly, was equipped with everything appropriate to Humans; Susan shot a concerned look toward Peter at the slightly strangled note in their sister's voice, lifted the fabric a bit higher so she could peer over Lucy's shoulder, and then said in a similarly awkward tone, "Ah."

"Do I want to know what Narnians think 'appropriate to Humans' means?" Peter asked; "Please tell me they at least managed blankets -- I can do without a bed, but I expect tonight will be cold even with the magical thaw."

"They not only managed blankets, they managed a bed: frame, pillow, and all," Susan said; "Unfortunately, there's only one, I think it must be sized for Dwarfs, and there's no way all of us will fit."

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( 12. ) For syrena_of_the_lake, in response to the prompt: Any fandom, any character, as sharp as a sack of wet mice, written 1/21/25

Mean What You Say (110 words)

Fandom = Nine Worlds

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"Point of clarification," Cliopher said, and then repeated himself at greater volume until he broke through the flow of Prince Rufus's peroration. "Apologies for the interruption, but I'm unfamiliar with the phrase 'as sharp as a sack of wet mice,' which I presume is an Amboloyan idiom, and unfortunately cannot parse the intended meaning; obviously a sack of mice would be an inadequate substitute for a knife, but mouse teeth are surprisingly pointed and a sack of wet mice would be strongly motivated to bite anything in range. I'm concerned that the minutes won't clearly convey your intent, and I therefore request a paraphrase -- for the historical record, you understand."

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More to come!

Internet housekeeping continues! This was my 2023 Narnia Fic Exchange entry, written for Lizzen.

Ashes (3748 words) by Elizabeth Culmer
Fandom: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Jadis | The White Witch & Jadis' Sister
Characters: Jadis | The White Witch, Jadis' Sister (Narnia)
Additional Tags: Charn, Worldbuilding, Backstory, Slavery, Murder, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, War, Fictional Religion & Theology

Summary: Cynara's army breached the city walls of Charn at dawn on the Day of Ashes.

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Someday I do still intend to write the full story of Jadis and Cynara's final conflict, but I got tangled up in battle tactics and also realized I would need to create so much court politics, so I hit a decent stopping point and quit while I was temporarily ahead. *wry*

Anyway, it is my firm belief that while Jadis's sister would have been less disastrous for both the universe in general and Charn in specific, she still wasn't remotely a good person -- just better at realizing that the world is where she keeps all her stuff, and that it's easier to rule if your subjects feel like you see them as people, not toys.

Apparently I have not posted fic to this journal since February of 2023, what the hell. Uh. Anyway, here is an extremely belated collection of the seven fills I wrote for the 2024 iteration of the Three Sentence Ficathon.

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( 1. ) For undeadrobins, in response to the prompt: any, any, cat and mouse, written 1/15/24

The Beginning of a Beautiful Rivalry (200 words)

Fandom = Narnia

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Anaprisma peered at the creature pinned beneath her claws -- a dumb rat, she had thought, the kind of pest that had no place in the royal library of Cair Paravel and which her position as Undersecretary left her morally (albeit not legally) obligated to remove before it gnawed or defecated on anything important -- and wondered if she had somehow stumbled into a stray enchantment or if someone had laced her breakfast tea with a hallucinogenic mushroom. She would almost have sworn that it had talked.

The tiny mouth opened, the matchstick ribs heaved, and the creature shrieked in a shrill but clear voice, "Unhand me, you fiend!"

Ah. Not a hallucination. Not a rat, either.

"My apologies," Anaprisma said, retracting her claws and managing to keep her tone both even and dry as the Talking Mouse scrambled onto its hind paws and brandished a long thorn that it was apparently using as a sword; "The Cair Paravel staff have yet to be notified of the existence of Talking Mice, though I assure you that will be remedied posthaste -- although perhaps I should accompany you to the infirmary before we consider other matters."

Talking Mice. What would Aslan think of next.

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( 2. ) For oceanmyth, in response to the prompt: Any, any, the cracking sounds bones make, written 1/15/24

A Sovereign Remedy (200 words)

Fandom = Narnia

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The level of glowing cordial in her flask never lowers as fast as logic says it should, but Lucy doesn't want to take the magic for granted, doesn't want to assume she can heal anything at any time, that it will never quite run dry; best to save it for wounds and illnesses that have no non-miraculous cure.

But oh, the sound and feel of bones and tendons snapping into place as she helps set a compound fracture or reduce a dislocated shoulder is horrid, the same wet crunch and crackle that signaled the initial shatter or sprain. The moans and tears and shrieks gnaw at her heart with the knowledge that she could wipe them clean, unwrite them from the story.

And yet, there's something more real about her blood-streaked clothes and aching wrists than the eerie way her cordial erases harm -- this healing, raw and messy and pained, is part of the world's fabric rather than a rejection of its laws, an acceptance that the bitter and the sweet come intertwined and triumph cannot exist without disaster; and so Lucy sets the diamond flask upon the shelf to fill her hands instead with soapsuds, bandages, and sharp-toothed hope.

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( 3. ) For galaydryels, in response to the prompt: Chronicles of Narnia Rthverse, Jalur, Murdermittens, written 1/15/24

Dare Seize the Fire (90 words)

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"Tiger's having kittens, wearing fluffy mittens, oh woe is he!" the Otter sing-songed breathlessly as she ducked under Jalur's charge and reversed direction in the second before he landed, hindpaws scrabbling for purchase in the muddy ground as she bolted toward the dubious safety of the water. "Big strong paws, long sharp claws, but none of it matters if you can't-- catch-- me!"

The Romp of Otters shrieked and scattered in mingled fear and glee as the snarling Tiger hurtled into the pond a hummingbird's heartbeat behind his taunting foe.

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( 4. ) For anonymous, in response to the prompt: any, any, west of the sun, east of the moon, written 1/17/24

And Take the Hidden Paths (600 words)

Fandom = original

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East of the sun and west of the moon stands a castle you may well have heard of, that was home to the Queen of Trolls before a brave peasant girl came there to steal her bridegroom back, but there are other hidden lands less famed in song or story, and in one such place, which lies west of the sun and east of the moon (and never you mind about logic, for magic need not abide by such rules), there stands a sunless garden where the plants are made of stone and the spring at its heart wells forth a river of sand instead of sweet, clear water. Nobody lives there today, but once upon a time Lilith (who has been Wife of Adam, Queen of Giants, Mother of Demons, and many other titles in her day) dwelt there for a time after she left the more fabled garden to make her own way in the world.

The North Wind knows the way to the castle east of the sun and west of the moon, but the four Winds do not blow in the stone garden west of the sun and east of the moon. There the air is always still. Nothing lives; nothing grows; and the only light comes from the faint glow of sparks that the grains of sand strike against each other as they flow in their endless circuits.

How Lilith came to the stone garden, none can say, but if you would follow in her footsteps (and so some people will always seek to do, for reasons of their own; I sought so myself in my youth), the method both witches and scholars deem least likely to fail is to carve a doorway into a rock, fix the garden and its stillness in your mind until your thoughts are empty of all but the heartbeat of stone, so slow that a dozen generations could live and die between one pulse and the next, and step forward.

If you are lucky, you will break your nose and go nowhere. But perhaps, just perhaps, your foot will swing through a gap in the logic of the world and your next step will land in the garden where nothing grows -- west of the sun and east of the moon, in the land without water or sky.

The castle east of the sun and west of the moon was filled with gold and silver and all the treasures that one may spend on everyday things. When another Troll or enchanter discovers that land, the castle will fill again until the next brave peasant girl or boy comes to rescue their beloved and best the monsters with their own greed.

The treasure in the stone garden west of the sun and east of the moon is more subtle and cannot be held in the hands or spoken with the tongue. But there is treasure nonetheless, and I can see in your eyes that you are determined to claim it (as the old woman I met on the road saw the spark in my eyes long ago), so I will waste no breath on admonitions to turn back or think of your god.

Instead I will give you this pebble, worn smooth by the stream that flows past my house, and remind you that magic need not abide by rules.

The stone garden stands in the land of absolute truth, with no space for pity or hope. No friends or enemies await: only yourself, and the silence.

Think well on what you bring, as well as what you plan to take.

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( 5. ) For anonymous, in response to the prompt: any, any, last test and proof, written 1/18/24

To Destruction (235 words)

Fandom = Nine Worlds

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The denunciation of Jackory Greenwing was meant to be her triumph, the last test both of her academic skills and the bridle she'd tightened around Jemis's will until he was her creature body, mind, and whatever phantasm might pass for a soul -- her bauble, her prize, her passing fancy snared for the wild flavor of his unused magic who serendipitously proved to be heir to an Imperial title (for all that he was blind to that truth) and a piece of true weight and power in the game of coins and kings -- and yet somehow the quarry had slipped the noose, fled bleeding into the woods, and all Lark was left with was the hollow surety that he would bear the scars of her fury till death.

She hurled her pipe across the room and snarled as the ivory splintered, spilling the smoldering mix of tobacco and less legal herbs onto the age-smoothed hardwood floor; "Pack my things -- I've called the coachman and we leave in one hour," she snapped over her shoulder at Violet, and ignored her pet spy's protest that she was scheduled to present her own final paper tomorrow.

She had failed this test (but how? how had she gone wrong?) and unless she thought of a foolproof way to recoup her losses and strengthen the family's position by the time her carriage reached Orio City, the consequences would be past bearing.

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( 6. ) For undeadrobins, in response to the prompt: any non-zombie fandom, any, surviving a zombie apocalypse, written 1/18/24

Eye of the Storm (250 words)

Fandom = Chronicles of Narnia

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They worked out, much later, that the spell which had interacted so banefully with Lucy's cordial had been cast as a trap -- the goal had been a straightforward assassination; the contagion merely an unintended side effect -- but at the time all Susan cared about was that saltwater slowed the change, and she would pick up a sword and dismember anyone who tried to kill her baby sister out of misguided mercy.

She filled every room and hall of Cair Paravel with tubs and barrels of brine; recruited every spare hand and paw to guard and nurse the infected; gathered, quarantined, organized the refugees streaming to the coast -- some brought scraps of news from Peter and Edmund's struggle to pin down the growing horde and burn a mile-wide swath of barren land to stop lone victims from slipping past the sentries and starting a new flare of the plague -- and gnawed the inner flesh of her cheeks to shreds to trap the furious shriek of despair and betrayal behind her teeth.

When this was over, when they found a cure, Susan swore she would claw her way to Aslan's own country -- whether she had to sail off the edge of the world, climb the encircling mountains past the roof of the sky, delve down through the burning heart of the earth -- and stab him once for each labored breath Lucy struggled to snatch past the rot in her throat; then, and only then, she might allow herself to break, and weep.

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( 7. ) For galaydryels in response to the prompt: any, any, the courage of a guinea pig, written 1/19/24

Fearless (300 words)

Fandom = Chronicles of Narnia

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There are many types of courage celebrated in proverb (some more obscure than others), for not only does courage come in different flavors, the characteristics that humans ascribe to various animals vary wildly in their accuracy.

The courage of a lion is most famous (though lions generally think prudence the better part of valor, having neither much interest in wasting strength on foolish posturing nor desire to be gutted by their prey on an inadvisable hunt), but the courage of a bear is also praised, the courage of a mother in her nest or den (in this case the species of animal becomes nearly irrelevant), the courage of a mongoose pursuing a snake, and the courage of a loyal dog defending their family, and so on; but all beasts have their own fears to overcome, and often do so -- the courage of a mouse venturing forth to gather seeds despite the threat of owls, hawks, and foxes; the courage of a caterpillar or tadpole giving its body over to change; the courage of a seal diving beneath vast sheets of ice and trusting it will find a gap to the surface before it runs short of air -- these are less lauded but no less real.

The courage of a guinea pig is of a different order altogether, as any human who has been screamed at by a stumpy, awkward bundle of fluff that can fit in the palms of your two hands can attest -- short-legged, near-sighted, its only defense sharp teeth that are easily evaded, but still the guinea pig shows no fear and raises its shrill defiance toward the heavens; yet some question whether courage is truly the right label, for can bravery truly be said to exist when the animal in question has no inborn fear to overcome?

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I also need to make a post about my 2024 NFE fic, and get all my 2023 and 2024 3SF fills up on AO3. But I think those are tasks for future!Liz.

Also, a belated catch-up life update post:

1. My colonoscopy went pretty smoothly, aside from the part where it took two nurses three tries to insert the IV into my arm, what even. The doctor found only one polyp, but it was pre-cancerous and it was weirdly large for a single polyp in a person of my age, so they want me to get a follow-up in 3 years instead of 5. Which is more or less what I was expecting -- didn't really think I'd have actual cancer, but did expect some pre-cancerous nonsense due to family history, which is why I wanted the colonoscopy in the first place -- so I think that's as good a result as could be expected.

The laxative prep medication, on the other hand, was absolutely godawful. I literally could not drink more than one or two swallows at a time without tripping my gag reflex and needing to wash it down with either juice or chicken broth. UGH.

2. The Cape Cod trip was AMAZING. It was really great to meet a bunch of NFE folks in person, not to mention swimming in the bay and playing Cards Against Narnia and Narniopoly late into the nights. I got diverted en route to pick up be_themoon from Logan airport due to flight delays (there was some kind of travel curse that hit multiple people), but otherwise I personally had a pretty smooth drive both to and from.

3. I have a mammogram scheduled for Wednesday morning, which is cool; I have a dentist appointment scheduled for next week, which is also cool; and yesterday I got an email saying that I have an appointment with my GP on Thursday morning, which was news to me! So I need to call her office and A) figure out WTF that's about, and B) reschedule, because that's a work day.

4. Had a Zoom call with Cat and Susan on Friday evening -- always good to see them and catch up!

5. I splurged and bought season tickets to NYS Baroque, the Finger Lakes Chamber Ensemble, and the Cayuga Chamber Orchestra, because what is even the point of finally having disposable income if I don't spend some of it on nice things? (I mean, I also give a bunch to miscellaneous charities and stuff, but one cannot live on virtue alone.)

I think that's the highlights.

Long time no write!

All my energy has been draining away to other sites lately, probably because most of what I have to say is either images (I've continued to work on cross-stitch projects) or responses to Tumblr posts that would be weird to post over here without context.

Anyway, work continues onward. I have been having some issues at Not the IRS because corporate has been pushing our manager to cut hours while simultaneously pushing for us to complete more returns, which, um, there is a certain logical disconnect there. Tonight I plan to go into the office and check on some in-progress returns without actually punching in because I am trying to communicate with clients and don't want to leave them hanging until my next scheduled shift on Sunday afternoon. This is, frankly, ridiculous, but I'm not sure what else I can do -- I can't exactly access our secure messaging system from home!

Meanwhile at the rental company, we have finally gotten shot of a disaster tenant who was creating intense and poisonous interpersonal tension among the tenants of the first floor of our boarding house style property. It wasn't entirely her fault -- the other tenants certainly contributed! -- but she was clearly the inciting factor and could not follow our repeated requests to please stop interacting with the other tenants, don't try to do them favors, you know it always goes bad, for your own sake just BACK THE FUCK OFF. *headdesk* She had a family crisis, moved out abruptly after a VERY dramatic weekend, and sent a moderately incoherent email in which she stated she did not intend to return. So we took her at her word and changed the locks.

Hopefully we will now be able to actually rent rooms on that floor again.

Hmm.

Oh! And in fandom new, the Narnia Spring Bacchanal Prompfest (aka Narnia After Dark) is now open for prompts. You can read more details here on the NFE journal: https://narniaexchange.dreamwidth.org/150860.html. Or if you just want to jump directly to AO3, here's the link to the collection: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Narnia_After_Dark_2023/profile