edenfalling: headshot of a raccoon, looking left (raccoon)
2037-01-01 01:01 am
Entry tags:

Master List of Elizabeth Culmer's Fiction

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Master List of Elizabeth Culmer's Fiction
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FANFICTION:

General Disclaimer: These stories are based on characters and situations created and owned by other people and corporations. I make no money from this borrowing of intellectual property, and intend no copyright or trademark infringement.

Organization: This list is organized primarily by fandom; within each fandom, it's arranged first by associated story cycles and then by writing date. Word counts and writing dates are approximations.

Content/Warning Policy: 1) I am not consistent about warnings! I use them when I remember, for a few relatively broad categories of potentially problematic content, but if something is off-page, non-explicit, or generally backgrounded, I probably won't think to note it in the metadata. Read at your own risk! 2) The things I try to warn for are explicit sex, rape, murder, torture, cannibalism, incest, depression/suicide, familial dysfunction, and occasionally also societal dysfunction (aka dystopia). Sometimes I just slap a general content warning on all my fic for a given fandom and don't label each individual fic. I also don't generally warn for violence, unless the violence in a fic is dramatically out-of-step with the violence in its source canon. 3) I don't use any content rating system unless I'm posting to a site or community that requires or encourages ratings, because I find movie-style ratings counter-intuitive when applied to written fiction, and not particularly useful for anything other than denoting the presence of explicit sex, which I already note in the metadata.

Quality Rating System: I've marked my favorite stories with asterisks, on a scale of 1 to 4. The more asterisks, the more I like the story. This doesn't necessarily mean that stories without asterisks are bad, just that I don't like them as much. Also, I am not claiming to be an arbiter of taste; you may love stories I dislike, and vice versa. I am just providing a heads-up about the ones that I think are best written and/or most interesting.

Where To Read: What I post on my journal tends to be the equivalent of a beta draft. If I have cross-posted a story literally anywhere else (except Tumblr; fic content there is just a mirror of fic content here), read the version that isn't on my journal. Versions on AO3 are definitive. If there is no AO3 version, read the ff.net version. If there is no ff.net version, read the FictionAlley version (only applicable for HP fic). Failing that, read the journal version, because that's the only one there is.

Harry Potter Fanfiction

Naruto Fanfiction

Angel Sanctuary Fanfiction

Chronicles of Narnia Fanfiction

Homestuck Fanfiction

MCU fanfic (assorted)

Minor Fandom Fanfiction
(currently includes BtVS/A:tS, The Dark Is Rising, the Darkangel trilogy, Enchanted Forest Chronicles, FF7: Mercverse AU, Inception, and Star Trek: AOS)

Miscellaneous Fanfiction
(Currently includes: American Gods, An Ash-Blonde Witch, Arthurian Mythology, Batman, the Bible, the Black Jewels series, the Bourne trilogy, Charlotte's Web, Code Geass, Death Note, Discworld, Doctor Who, Girl Genius, The Girl with the Silver Eyes, Glee, Gormenghast, Hamilton, Hexwood, The Homeward Bounders, Howl's Moving Castle, Labyrinth, Lord of the Rings, Lucifer (comics), Mad Max: Fury Road, Merlin, the Oz books, Ranma 1/2, Rise of the Guardians, Sailor Moon, Saiyuki, Seaward, Shakespeare, Star Wars, Tam Lin (Pamela Dean), Vorkosigan Saga, White Collar, Wolf Hall, X-Men, and Yu-Gi-Oh!)

Crossover Fanfiction
(I do not cross-list crossovers and fusions under their component fandoms; this is the only place to find them. Currently includes: the Anita Blake series, ASoIaF, Avatar: The Last Airbender, the Black Jewels series, BtVS, Cardcaptor Sakura, Chronicles of Narnia, the Darkangel trilogy, The Dark Is Rising, Discworld, Doctor Who, Enchanted Forest Chronicles, Ender's Game, Gundam Wing, Harry Potter, Hikaru no Go, Homestuck, Inception, the Indiana Jones movies, Leverage, Lucifer (comics), MCU (various), Merlin, Naruto, the Oz books, Sandman, Stargate: SG-1, Star Trek: AOS, Vorkosigan Saga, Welcome to Night Vale, and a couple other things that only appear in memes rather than actual fic.)

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ORIGINAL FICTION:

These stories are all mine! *grin* I use the same warning policy and quality rating system as for my fanfiction.

All Original Fiction

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My various bingo cards: Cotton Candy Bingo, Round One (blackout!); Cotton Candy Bingo, Round Two (blackout!); Genprompt Bingo, Round 12 (blackout!); Genprompt Bingo, Round 15; Ladies Bingo; Daredevil Bingo; Domestic AU Prompt List
edenfalling: headshot of a raccoon, looking left (raccoon)
2021-02-28 08:45 pm

[Fic] Three Sentence Ficathon 2021 fills, part nine

Batch the ninth. :)

All prompts drawn from the current iteration of the Three Sentence Ficathon (post one and post two), hosted by the wonderful [personal profile] rthstewart. The ficathon closes to new prompts tonight, but you can continue filling prompts and commenting on other people's fills for as long as you like!

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49. ) For [personal profile] paxilam: any, any, not answering the phone, written 2/23/21

Go to Voicemail (250 words)

Fandom = The Magnus Archives

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After his ordeal with Prentiss, Martin makes a point of answering his phone on the first ring and immediately replying to all texts; he winds up fielding a number of junk calls and disrupting his sleep schedule (insofar as he has a sleep schedule, here on the too-small cot in the document storage room, jolting awake at every creak of floorboard or groan of piping), but it's worth it to feel connected, to know that no supernatural creature will have another chance to impersonate him.

"That was one of the most suspicious things about you," Jon tells him much later; "It's not normal to be instantly available at all hours of the day and night, and naturally I jumped to incoherent conspiracy theories rather than the much more obvious and plausible answer that it was a trauma response -- the irony, of course, being that my paranoia was also a trauma response, and so we made each other steadily more upset rather than trying to support each other, or reach out to Tim."

"And when I stopped answering my phone altogether?" Martin asks. "Was that also suspicious?"

Jon shrugs, lightly, as if his isolation when he woke from his coma hardly mattered. "No, because by then I knew you -- I wished you would change your mind, of course, and I thought you were taking a terrible risk for a highly uncertain return, but you've let me run off halfcocked into all kinds of peril; how could I trust you any less?"

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50. ) For [personal profile] sawthefaeriequeen: Tam Lin by Pamela Dean, Janet and Tina, they develop their own roommate in-joke, written 2/24/21

It's All Greek to Me (710 words)

Obviously this is not a 3-sentence fill. *headdesk*

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cut for length )

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51. ) For [personal profile] sholio: MCU, any, superpower swap, written 2/27/21

Mirror, Mirror (340 words)

This is more of a skill swap than a power swap, but I figure if building flying armor counts as a superpower, Natasha and Clint's skillsets should as well. :)

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The Red Room had a specific ideal to which they trained their agents -- deceptively lovely, flexible, able to wear any mask and get close enough to kiss a target and steal his secrets as well as his life -- but while Natasha excelled enough to live, that pattern always felt like somebody else's coat, too baggy in the shoulders and tight around the waist. She prefers to work from a distance and in the shadows; steal impersonal documents, snap photos, plant microphones; send an autographed bullet from half a mile away. The idea of touching other people's skin, feeling their breath against her ear, makes her own skin crawl like the memory of a dozen spiders wandering over her while she lay paralyzed and desperate not to scream, and it's a rare person who can pass unharmed through the sphere of empty space she carves around herself with her dead-eyed stare.

The US Army was much more interested in snipers than infiltrators, but sometimes what you want isn't what you need, and Clint's always been personable when he puts his mind to it, not to mention good with accents and languages and mirroring what other people project onto him; you pick up those tricks pretty quick as a runaway, and even more so in the entertainment business. He's still a sniper on paper, but the moment he catches wind of SHIELD sending out feelers, he makes a play for a different line of work -- something where he can look the people he kills in the eye and know that they have a faint chance of turning the tables, walking away while he bleeds out on the floor. It's probably just as unethical to betray a cultivated trust, but he's been doing that for most of his life and it's a rare person who can coax him to peel off his masks and show the awkward, half-forgotten shape of his true self.

They make an odd pair, the sniper and the seducer, but nobody at SHIELD would dare to pull them apart.

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52. ) For [personal profile] wingedflight: Narnia/The Magnus Archives, any, the entities in Narnia, written 2/28/21

A Century of Fear (295 words)

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1. Vast

Narnia is not a large land, but the shroud of Winter smothers the landscape, blurs landmarks into a sweeping sameness: a blank canvas of white-gray-black that deceives the eye and spreads out to, so far as anyone can know, the uttermost bounds of the world -- and perhaps even beyond, out past the Western mountains and the Eastern sea until a body could travel a thousand years and still never find a day of summer sun, for the Winter admits no truth but its own immutable nature, and flattens all attempts at defiance to mere blots on the purity of its expanse.

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2. Buried

Petrification should stop the mind along with the body, yet those who feel the tight embrace of stone close in around them, driving inward like a vice, could tell you otherwise if they still had breath and space to speak; instead they stand silent in the crushing prison of their own forms, squeezed tighter and tighter until it seems they must explode under the pressure of their own transformed skin and muscle and bone... and yet there is always another notch to tighten, and never the release of death or sleep.

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3. Corruption

Collaboration is the law of the land, a sick fever that floods communities like clockwork as neighbor sells out neighbor for a scrap of food or a brief reprieve from violence; to love your family, to do right by them, you must do wrong by others, and that truth gnaws both inward through the soul and outward through the fragile bonds of care and trust that bind downtrodden Narnians together, until no one can look upon those they love, those for whom they sold their self-respect, without a hot rush of shame and revulsion clogging their throats and coating their teeth with bile.

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53. ) For anonymous: Any, any, starry river of the sky, written 2/28/21

Who Walks Among the Stars (160 words)

Fandom = original

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The stars are more of a sea than a river, and more of a marsh than either, but there are channels where light flows swift and deep in and among the darker, drier ground, and those are what travelers follow on the winding paths between the worlds -- unless, of course, they are lucky enough to win the favor of birds and fly swift and true where others walk.

Kemmess steps tentatively from one hillock of dark to the next, testing the depth of the starry stream with the green, sap-sticky length of a broken reed, still glowing faintly with watery light. She has traversed the earth, the moon, and the sun without finding the hidden keep where her beloved has either fled or been imprisoned -- each witness she meets tells a different tale -- but there are whispers of worlds more distant yet in the heavens, and she will walk a thousand years rather than turn back with questions yet unanswered.

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54. ) For anonymous: Any, any, silk, sage, silver, written 2/28/21

Sacrifices (150 words)

Fandom = original

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Silk: she ties a sash across your eyes, ties your wrists behind your back, ties your ankles as you kneel, ties your tongue with careful stitches to stopper up your sighs; there is no need to silence screams, not when you have come willing to her bed, but the ritual is stern.

Sage: she wafts incense through the air, traces oil across your skin in swirls and angled strokes in the pattern of a language and a script you never learned but now almost understand through touch alone.

Silver: she slides the needle into the softness beneath your skin, sends a rush of snow-melt cold flooding through your veins, a tracery of silver from your fingers to your heart... and when the cold-shock hits, when your pulse skips and stutters, she calls you treasure, calls you sister, calls you goddess, and whispers her eternal thanks as she sheaths her knife.

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I am experiencing a small amount of self-directed annoyance at not completing the same number of fills as last year (when I wrote 72, 12x6 being a tidy and auspicious number), but then I console myself with the knowledge that my life has been significantly more disrupted this year than last year (surgery! church crisis!) and also I am busier at the rental company in my new job than I was in my old job. And 54 fills is not a shabby number by any stretch of the imagination.

Also I have entire pages of the second ficathon post I have not yet perused, so I think I will give myself permission to continue writing fills for at least another week. :)

And now, bed, because my wrist is very sore and I would like to get some sleep.
edenfalling: headshot of a raccoon, looking left (raccoon)
2021-02-09 11:30 pm

[Fic] Three Sentence Ficathon 2021 fills, part four

Batch the fourth. :)

All prompts drawn from the current iteration of the Three Sentence Ficathon, hosted by the wonderful [personal profile] rthstewart. Come join the fun!

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19. ) For anonymous: Any, any, lost in translation, written 2/7/21

Lost in Translation (195 words)

Fandom = Chronicles of Narnia. Contains Telmarine backstory.

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"I will tell you tonight of Māui, who snared the errant sun, who fished islands from the sea, who brought the secret of fire to the people," Eka said to her children as they sat beside the fire in the strange half-underground house made of dirt and grass that the man who killed her husband (and fathered her two youngest children) had built in this strange land beyond the cave.

"What's an island?" her youngest son asked: a child of this new world, of its mountains without daily clouds, of its winter ice and snow, of its horses and sheep and shaggy cattle in place of pigs and chickens, his mouth familiar only with the speech of the raiders that had bloomed like a fever in Eka's mind as they stumbled from stone to the sunlight of a foreign sky.

"It's a mountain only instead of trees and grass around it there's miles and miles of water," said her eldest daughter, who still remembered their lost home, and as she watched the confusion on her son's face, Eka wondered how long until all her people's history and gods were lost in the gulf between generations.

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20. ) For anonymous: Any, any, the only way out is through, written 2/8/21

Theseus in the Labyrinth (105 words)

Fandom = The Magnus Archives

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"Sometimes the only way out is through," Georgie says, and Jon makes a noncommittal noise rather than answer; he understands that she means well, and that pushing through worked for her in the aftermath of her own brush with the impossible.

In his experience, though, 'through' never reaches an exit; he only tangles deeper and deeper into the grip of his own personalized whirlpool of terror and regret. Turning around and asking somebody to haul him back is the only chance of freedom, for however short and painful a time.

He's trying not to Know if there's anybody left to hear him when he calls.

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21. ) For [personal profile] ultra_fic: any, any, midnight at the lost and found, written 2/9/21

Found and Lost (110 words)

Fandom = The Magnus Archives

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The Magnus Institute, Sasha sometimes thinks, is like a giant lost-and-found: people bring in stories of experiences they'd stumbled into and would strongly prefer to forget, and other people come by later to pick through the inscrutably-organized heap in search of something important to them. Her job is to sort and catalog the items, and sometimes to show people around the collection; she's in the business of finding, not of losing, and she's very good at her work.

Much later, she has a bare second before the end to realize she was always one of the lost and abandoned things and to wonder if anyone will try to find her.

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22. ) For [personal profile] kalira: any, any, bloody fluff, written 2/9/21

Strange New World (235 words)

Fandom = Chronicles of Narnia

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"We hunt well together," the Crow said to her companions as the young Wolf lapped at the marrow in a cracked thighbone and the Human methodically skinned and butchered the carcass of a dumb deer; "One to spot, one to flush, one to kill, and we all benefit."

"I maintain I'm doing the lion's share of the work," the Human said as she began to wrap the meat in the deer's own skin, blood-streaked hands deft as she tied tendons around rough hide, "but yes, we waste much less time this way, not to mention the value of companionship; I still don't discount the possibility that I've gone mad and you're both hallucinations, but even so, humans need friends to survive and I'm willing to believe you might lead me to somewhere with explanations."

"The garden in the Uttermost West holds many explanations, some of which even fit people's questions," the Wolf said, looking up from her bone, "but there's no need to hurry; the Queen of the Twisted Tower" -- here the Crow mantled her wings, unsettled, and the Human paused to scribble another note in her little paper book -- "has gone east to Narnia and taken her armies with her, so even if you never learn how you came to the Western Wild, there's nothing to stop us from building a new pack and carving a territory where we can decide our own truths."

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23. ) For [personal profile] sholio: Black Panther, Nakia, a small piece of home to hold onto when she's out on assignment, written 2/9/21

Keeping Faith (145 words)

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A kimoyo bead would be far too obvious -- vibranium is too rare and precious to go unnoticed -- but Nakia is used to the feel of her beads around her wrist, resting against her sternum, hanging from her ears.

Glasswork, pottery, and smithing are not her gifts, but all children learn some of the traditional arts and the awkward nature of her handiwork adds verisimilitude to many of her covers.

Eyes downcast, Nakia kneels before the latest would-be warlord whose camp she's infiltrated, and rubs the uneven glaze of her lumpy bracelet beneath her fingers -- clay from the creek behind her mother's house, glaze from her cousin's pottery, cotton string from her grandmother's farm -- a piece of home to remind her of all the riches of Wakanda, and urge her onward to help the outer world take one more shaky, faltering step toward peace and freedom.

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24. ) For [personal profile] runespoor: Naruto, Naruto/Sasuke/Sakura, promises, written 2/9/21

Pinky Promise (275 words)

This wound up as an installment in my Summer Camp & Politics AU.

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"One day I'm gonna be prime minister and then I'll make sure nothing like what happened to your family will ever happen again -- that's a promise!" Naruto says, looking back over his shoulder from the front of the canoe.

("Turn around, we're almost to the rapids," Sakura says.)

"The prime minister can't always control the army," Sasuke snaps, letting go of his paddle with one hand to flick at Naruto's face, "or get laws through the Assembly, so even if you do somehow get elected, what good do you think you can do on your own?"

("The rapids! We're coming to the rapids! If you don't turn around and start paddling again--")

"I won't be alone -- I'll have you and Sakura-chan with me," Naruto says, and raises his paddle like he's thinking of swinging it at Sasuke; "Tell him we'll fix Fire Country together, Sakura-chan!"

Sakura tips the canoe over.

Then she hauls herself back in and upright while her friends are still sputtering. From her newly commanding height, and with her own paddle jammed firmly between two rocks to keep from drifting uncontrolled into the rapids, she pronounces, "I'll fix Fire Country... but you two can come along, I guess. I'll need somebody to play figurehead while I get everything done."

Sasuke and Naruto exchange a long, speaking look, which would be very solemn and serious if they weren't sopping wet with hair plastered to their faces.

"Deal?" Naruto says, not turning to look at Sakura. She narrows her eyes suspiciously.

"Deal," Sasuke agrees, and the boys lunge forward in tandem to tip Sakura back into the river with them.

It's a good day.

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More to come as I write them. :)
edenfalling: headshot of a raccoon, looking left (raccoon)
2020-04-26 09:28 pm

[Fic] Sufficiently Advanced Magic -- Iron Fist (MCU)

I wanted to have something to post in April (because I am unsure whether I will finish editing/expanding the Narnia/Naruto crossover OR finish writing the Doctor Who/Magnus Archives crossover in time), so I poked through the February 2020 Three Sentence Ficathon prompts and wrote a tiny thing. :)

Note: Written for [personal profile] syrena_of_the_lake, in response to the prompt: Any, any, The Improbably Named Whatchamacallit of SCIENCE! (any thing, Bill Nye style). 120 words.

[ETA: the AO3 crosspost is now up!]

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Sufficiently Advanced Magic
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"That's it, I'm done, no more mystic ninja bullshit," Ward said in a slurred voice as he slumped back onto the concrete floor of the Rand subsidiary company's parking garage after yet another failed ninja ambush assassination attempt; "No more dragons, either -- the Iron Fist is now the bio-luminescent, contact-based kinetic energy transfer device of SCIENCE, probably powered by nanites or string theory."

"I think you have a concussion," Danny said, leaning down to offer his non-glowing hand, "and also, explosive kinetic energy transfer only applies to the combat uses; how do you explain the chi alignment and healing aspects?"

"I'll figure that out when I'm not concussed," Ward grumbled, but he grabbed hold and let Danny help him up.

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End of Ficlet

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And now back to my WIPs. *sigh*
edenfalling: headshot of a raccoon, looking left (raccoon)
2020-02-06 09:26 pm

[Fic] Three Sentence Ficathon fills, part four

More fills! I am having a lot of fun, as I'm sure you can tell. :)

All prompts drawn from the current iteration of the Three Sentence Ficathon, hosted by the wonderful [personal profile] rthstewart.

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19. ) For anonymous: Any/any, "monsters are better at loving than heroes", written 2/5/20

A Flawed Thesis (200 words)

Fandom = The Magnus Archives. Also another six-sentence fill, because reasons.

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"I don't think that's true as a general rule," Jon says, his voice rising muffled from where he's pressed his face against Martin's shoulder, "but in my own particular case, and allowing for the fact that I never was a hero" -- he taps his fingers against Martin's cheek to silence the reflexive protest he knows is rising to Martin's lips -- "becoming a monster made me realize how badly I'd done at being human for many years, and how much I wanted to hold on to whatever pieces I had left. So yes, I am better at loving now, but you're not a monster and you've always been better at love than I am, which I feel disproves your own thesis quite conclusively."

"I'm not sure whether that's a compliment or an insult," Martin says after a moment, and then adds hastily, "which I don't mean as an insult to you, of course, just-- just an observation."

"Ha, yes. We may both need more practice at this loving business," Jon says, tilting his head the fraction necessary to meet Martin's eyes.

"There are worse ways to pass the time," Martin says, and Jon lets himself be tugged upright for a kiss.

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20. ) For [personal profile] shinon: Any, any, when I left my home/ when I left my throne, written 2/5/20

Once a Queen (200 words)

Fandom = The Darkangel Trilogy. Ten sentences, because as previously mentioned, structural restrictions are not always my friend. *sigh*

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Syllva left Avaric because she no longer felt worthy to rule and guide her husband's people, the people who would one day have looked to her lost son. And so, of course, when she returned to Isternes, her own people made her Lady once again, heaped upon her all the duty and trust that she had fled yet which now awaited her, changed yet not changed at all, half a world away.

"You have been Lady while I was gone," she said to her sister Eryka. "Can you not continue while I grieve?"

"I can and I will for a year and a day," Eryka said, "but then I must away across the Sea of Dust in my turn, to reweave what lines of talk and trade I can despite the withering of the world." She knelt to embrace Syllva, her green eyes bright both with tears and with the wild sea-yearning that caught some folk of Isternes as fish hooked on a line.

"Then I will make a year be enough," Syllva said.

"You are always enough," Eryka said, and kissed her sister's brow. "Let Isternes remind you, and help you build your life anew."

And so they did.

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21. ) For [personal profile] sholio: Netflix Defenders, any, newly developed superpower, written 2/5/20

Leftover Man (270 words)

I didn't even bother counting the sentences here. *headdesk*

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"I always suspected contact with vigilantes and powered weirdos was bad for ordinary cops' health," Brett Mahoney said as he slid into a diner booth across from Misty, "but now I have tangible, living proof that I was right."

"You mean aside from me," Misty said, amused, and lifted her coffee cup with her mechanical hand by way of illustration.

Mahoney rolled his eyes. "Yeah, fine, point taken, but do you know who caught powers in the backwash of their latest supernatural bullshit ninja mafia showdown? Me, that's who. I don't even know who Daredevil is! I have been very careful not to know that! And yet here I am with microwave hands. Microwave hands! What the actual fuck am I supposed to do with microwave hands? They're a police brutality case waiting to happen."

Which was true, if he didn't know how to turn them on and off reliably, and especially if the power could be triggered by stress. On the other hand, Misty was fairly sure Mahoney wouldn't have met her in a public location if didn't have a decent grip on things. So she grimaced sympathetically (aided a bit by the realization that she'd already finished her coffee) and said, "Yeah, no shit. But think on the bright side -- you'll never have to drink cold coffee again."

"You suck, Knight," Mahoney said, but his mouth twitched up at the corner like he couldn't quite hold his outraged face.

"I might, if I'm feeling generous. How bad do you want to know for sure?" Misty said, and waggled her eyebrows until Mahoney cracked and let the smile win.

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22. ) For [personal profile] sholio: Agent Carter, Peggy & any, hidden gun pocket, written 2/5/20

Fashion Tip (75 words)

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"It's a nuisance fighting close-quarters in a skirt," Dottie says as she gestures with a little jerk of her head, pistol aimed rock-steady at Peggy's chest, "but I find them remarkably useful for concealing guns. Just rig up a pocket with a slit and a holster on your thigh and there you are -- you ought to try it."

"I shall take it under consideration," Peggy says, and dives forward to tackle Dottie at the knees.

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23. ) For anonymous: Any, Any, the fancy hats are a vital part of the plan, written 2/6/20

Fascination (270 words)

Fandom = The Magnus Archives. Another six-sentence fic.

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"Sasha, I understand that it's important to do on-scene follow up for the incident, but why not wait another week so we don't have to bother with fancy dress and dodging crowds and cameras at every corner?" Jon hissed into Sasha's ear as she examined yet another improbable fascinator hat, this one shaped like several slices of watermelon with little embroidered bees and butterflies caught above in a net of teal gauze.

"Because of the crowds and cameras at every corner," Sasha said, regretfully setting the fascinator down; it was too cute and quirky and would attract attention they couldn't afford. "Nobody will notice another posh couple bumbling around Ascot in the confusion, whereas they most certainly would notice a pair of academics poking our noses where we shouldn't on a week when they don't have thousands of people and Royal security to deal with."

"I hate that that makes sense," Jon said in a pained tone -- Sasha glanced over her shoulder and yes, he was pinching the bridge of his nose, the ridiculous man -- "and also that by your logic, I'll have to acquire a top hat."

Sasha punched him gently in the shoulder and said, "Oh, quit whingeing; there's no way we'd get into the Royal Enclosure, nor any need most likely -- it'll be the Grandstand for us, so just a suit and tie, no need for full morning dress."

"The things we do for research," Jon grumbled, then perked up and pointed across the shop toward a snappy confection of navy lace and silver beads worked into tiny starbursts: "Try that one; it should match your dress."

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24. ) For [personal profile] syrena_of_the_lake: Any, any, our new robot overlords are malfunctioning, written 2/6/20

Manual Adjustment (50 words)

Original fiction, because why not! :D

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"This is just embarrassing," Lisa remarked, almost calmly, as yet another hunter-killer tripped on a pothole and crashed sparking to the ground.

"I don't know what else anyone expected," Qimeng said, leaning over the garden fence to get a better view. "Have you seen the places our roomba gets stuck?"

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I really do need to get around to leaving some prompts of my own...
edenfalling: headshot of a raccoon, looking left (raccoon)
2019-07-05 02:36 pm

[Fic] "Many Happy Returns of the Day" -- Defenders (MCU)

[personal profile] sholio said: Another Year Older: Birthdays - Someone among the Iron Fist and/or Defenders characters having their next birthday after making their new friend(s) in the show. (450 words)

Note: I have no idea why this turned into a dialogue-only ficlet. Sometimes these things just happen to me.

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Many Happy Returns of the Day
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"Hey, Matt, it's Danny Rand. Oh, did I get the time zone conversion right? This isn't a bad time for you?"

"It's fine, I'm on lunch break. Happy Birthday, in case my text didn't come through intelligibly. I forgot to have anyone proofread it."

"It was fine. Well, the happy birthday part was fine. I guess speech to text works best with standard phrases like that. The rest got a little garbled but hey, birthday cards are supposed to be funny."

"Sure. So, you didn't call all the way from... Cambodia?"

"Laos, this week."

"--from Laos without a reason. Do you need help?"

"No. Well, maybe? Or no, probably not. But. Uh. So, I got your text. I also got texts from everyone even tangentially associated with you, Jess, and Luke, and some people I can't even figure out how they're connected, and that's cool and all -- I'm grateful you guys made the effort! -- but, uh..."

"You've sent all of us birthday cards, or texts, or ridiculous voicemail messages. Obviously that kind of connection is important to you. And sending a text isn't like running a marathon or Olympic level weightlifting."

"I guess. I know emotional stuff isn't easy for everyone. But see, the thing is, I got this one text that's a little, um, weird. Even for our context."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. It said, 'Thank you for guarding Matthew's city while he recovered. I've removed you from our target list for six months. Happy Birthday.' And it was signed with a little... what's the word for emojis that are made out of text instead of an actual picture?"

"I am the wrong person to answer that question."

"Right, yeah, sorry. Anyway, a little sai made of dashes and a capital E."

"Ah."

"Yeah."

"Hmm."

"Matt, how did your dead evil girlfriend get my phone number?"

"...I plead the fifth. But when you think about it logically, that's not a half-bad present. Imagine what you can do with six months free of random Hand encounters."

"That is-- okay, that's pretty cool, but that is not the point! The point is that an undead assassin has my phone number and knows my birthday!"

"I have faith in you to make the best of the situation. Happy Birthday, Danny. See you when you get home."

"Matt, you asshole, don't hang-- Fuck. Great. You know what? Just for that, I will make the best of the situation. I'm going to text Elektra back and tell her you're being a scaredy-cat so she laughs at you. Then I'm going to become her best friend, and rescue her from the Hand, and get you back together. Yeah. Because that's what friends do, you dingus. Happy unbirthday."

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End of Ficlet

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And now back to pretending to work. It is such a SLOW DAY. *wilts over keyboard*
edenfalling: headshot of a raccoon, looking left (raccoon)
2019-03-13 06:58 pm

[Fic] "Free Time and Other Unicorns" -- Defenders

[personal profile] sholio said: MCU Defenders, Colleen and Misty (or your choice of MCU Defenders-verse ladies if those ones don't click), "Magical Creatures." Finding some kind of unexpected magic animal, or having to fight one. (1,675 words)

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

Free Time and Other Unicorns )

That got away from me slightly, and also involved significantly more background research than I intended. Oops? :)
edenfalling: headshot of a raccoon, looking left (raccoon)
2019-03-09 05:26 pm

[Fic] "Room for Coincidence" -- MCU

[personal profile] pole_dancer said: Roommates / Sharing a Room - MCU - Nakia (Black Panther) and Natasha Romanoff, also known as Black Widow (Iron Man)

Did you know that Lupita Nyong'o and Scarlett Johansson are only a year and a half apart in age? I didn't until today. :D (700 words)

[AO3 version]

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Room for Coincidence
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"This is an interesting coincidence," Natasha said without reaching toward the hand her new roommate had offered in greeting. "Unless you had a hand in--?"

"I did not. What our superiors may or may not have planned is another question entirely," said the Wakandan agent who Natasha had briefly met under the code name Antelope and was now listed on the Columbia University directory as Nakia Q'Noma. She lowered her hand, untouched. "I would suspect yours, since I'm not here on assignment, but your surprise speaks against that."

Natasha shrugged and smiled. "Sometimes a coincidence is actually coincidental." Disconcerting though it was. She disliked things beyond her control, and it was impossible to manipulate random chance the way she could manipulate social systems, conversations, or more physical weapons. "I'm auditing the Barnard dance program for a year of acculturation and vetting."

Nakia absorbed the implied change in Natasha's allegiances with a shallow nod. "I'm completing a two-year Post-baccalaureate program in psychology, plus the usual. Will that be a problem?"

Natasha shrugged. "Not that I know of. I suppose we'll both know more shortly."

"Indeed," Nakia said. "On that note, please excuse me for a moment while I make a call." At Natasha's nod of agreement, Nakia stepped into the graduate dorm's hallway and closed the suite door behind her.

Natasha promptly pulled out her own cell phone, called Agent Coulson's secure dropbox, and left a report. "My roommate is from Wakandan intelligence. We worked alongside each other on a retrieval in Kyrgyzstan two years ago. There shouldn't be any personal or political fallout on that front. She claims to be on detached or reserve status, but I only have her word for that and she might be reactivated at any point. Orders?"

She hung up and returned to transferring her new civilian wardrobe from her two duffel bags to her new dresser and closet. She hadn't yet built a comprehensive assessment of Coulson, but Barton trusted him -- which said several things in and of itself -- and her handful of personal interactions with the man had created a general impression of competence. And, of course, he had access to all of SHIELD's databases and connections. He'd get her what she needed to know as soon as reasonably possible.

In the meantime, Natasha finished hanging her three dresses -- one for looking like an eager young professional, one for attracting sexual attention, and one for conveying friendly innocence -- and contemplated the bare, off-white walls of her tiny bedroom. She ought to hang something artsy or kitschy on at least one. That seemed to be a typical feminine trait, and she needed to construct a convincing cover even if her roommate already knew some of the truth underneath. Barton would probably say she also needed to construct a self that made her happy, and there was no way to do that without experimentation.

The main door of the suite opened and closed, and Natasha leaned out of her bedroom door with her eyebrows raised in silent question.

"I don't believe we'll have any conflicts of interest," Nakia said with a small but convincing smile, warm all the way from the set of her shoulders to the tiny muscles around her eyes.

If that was artificial, Natasha wanted to learn her tricks. If it was genuine... Barton would think Natasha should learn that trick -- being human -- as well, though he'd probably phrase it differently.

For the moment, she could at least manage convincing wry humor. "What if I want to put posters on the walls and our taste in art is incompatible?"

"Then it would be war," Nakia said with obviously false gravity. "But I'm sure we can find something neutral for the living room and kitchen, however disparate our bedrooms may become."

"We are resourceful," Natasha agreed. "And on that note, once you've unpacked, would you mind coming with me to reconnoiter the campus store? I have supplies to purchase and it's easiest to discuss art choices with the options in front of us."

"So long as you come with me to purchase groceries this evening," Nakia said, "it would be my pleasure." She offered her hand again.

This time, Natasha grasped it. "Deal."

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End of Ficlet
edenfalling: headshot of a raccoon, looking left (raccoon)
2018-12-29 01:36 pm

[Fic] Three Sentence Ficathon fills, part four

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

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19. ) For [personal profile] jjhunter: any, any, a place beyond tears, written 12/27/18 [AO3 version]

That we can feel pain and know sadness (175 words)

"I did mostly all right until Elise from Accounting -- I got to know her because of some issues with my first paychecks, but that's a different story -- until she told me you'd gone to 'a place beyond tears,' and I just lost it and spent the next half hour choking on this horrible mix of ugly crying and completely inappropriate laughter," Karen says, fingers relaxed on the neck of her beer bottle; then she snorts and adds, "That always struck me as a terrifying idea, you know."

Matt makes an inquiring noise, the thrum of his voice in his chest vibrating pleasantly against Karen's skull where she's leaned back against his sternum.

Karen clicks her nails against the bottle, lets its cool solidity ground her the same way as Matt's equally solid warmth, and says, "Because to be beyond tears means to be something that isn't quite human anymore, and even if that's a good thing -- even if it means joy and relief from pain -- I've lost too many pieces of myself to ever give up another willingly."

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20. ) For [personal profile] lady_katana4544: Any, Any, trying to not jump at the shadows when in polite company, written 12/28/18 [AO3 version]

And This Is Her Valley (75 words)

It's easier not to jump at shadows in Kaeleer, Wilhelmina reflects, though the realm itself is far darker and wilder than Tereille. Firstly, when a thing becomes commonplace, the sting of contrast fades and darkness becomes simply a trick of the light rather than a sign of something out of place.

And secondly, as Jaenelle said one evening with a smile like a knife of ice, "The only danger lurking in these shadows is me."

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21. ) For [personal profile] syrena_of_the_lake: Dragons of Pern; Menolly and fire-lizards; joyful chorus, written 12/28/18 [AO3 version]

Notes in the Song of Creation (100 words exactly)

There were limits to how she could shape their song, but those were no different from any other formal strictures: keys, meters, the ranges of various instruments, to say nothing of the choking net of tradition tangled through her father's Seahold. In comparison to that, working around her fair's needs was as easy as breathing -- easier, even, as if she'd been drowning and now had found a boat.

Menolly sang as the sun danced and splintered on the wavetips; nine other voices joined her, joyfully, and in full knowledge that the music they sang was hers, and it was good.

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22. ) For [personal profile] sholio: MCU, any, werewolf AU, written 12/28/18 [AO3 version]

As Iron Sharpens Iron (100 words exactly)

"We found her with blood on her teeth, she's a phase-independent were, what more evidence do you need?" the cop says as he leads Matt and Foggy through the station.

"Something that isn't purely circumstantial or blatantly prejudiced," Matt says, and then bites back a shiver of recognition as Karen Page's miserable, furious scent wafts from the open doorway, raising the hair on the back of his neck and pulling his lips into a smile too sharp and wild for the face he shows the daylight world.

His skin may not change like hers, but one predator always knows another.

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23. ) For anonymous: DBZ, Vegeta, call center, written 12/29/18 [AO3 version]

Minimum Wage Woes (150 words)

Note: Six sentences, because reasons. :)

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"I have tracked the recent spate of spurious phone calls to this building, and I command you to remove all my family's numbers from your database immediately!" shouted the short, wild-haired man who'd just crashed through the ceiling of the call center next to Lacey's station and was now wreathed in a mix of flames, lightning, and particleboard dust.

"Or else what?" said Lacey's manager, showing a remarkable lack of common sense, especially since small objects were now starting to float and circle around the man as if drawn into a growing vortex.

The man smiled, showing teeth that seemed more pointed than standard, and raised a hand filled with a terrible, blinding glow. "Or else I burn this place to the ground... and then I give your names to my wife."

Lacey grabbed her purse from beside her chair and scrambled out of the room. She wasn't paid nearly enough for this.

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24. ) For [personal profile] kalira: Inception, Arthur, expediency, written 12/29/18 [AO3 version]

Stiletto (50 words)

"Did you just put that projection's eye out with a shoe heel, darling?" Eames asked, nudging the body with an oddly fastidious toe.

"We're in Ms. Nandanampati's dressing room, it was right at hand, and unlike a gun it was quiet," Arthur snapped. "Now shut up while I imagine myself a set of lock picks."

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And now back to trying not to fall asleep at work. *sigh*
edenfalling: headshot of a raccoon, looking left (raccoon)
2018-12-12 11:56 pm

[Fic] Three Sentence Ficathon fills, part one

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 [personal profile] 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 [personal profile] 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 [personal profile] 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 [personal profile] 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 [personal profile] 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 [personal profile] 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...
edenfalling: stylized black-and-white line art of a sunset over water (Default)
2018-12-08 12:23 pm

Genprompt Bingo card, take 2

I have a new [community profile] genprompt_bingo card, for Round 15!

This is a wonderfully low-pressure challenge, since fills only need to be 100 words long. I am going to black this card out eventually, but I make no guarantees how long it will take me to get there. :)



my card )

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Prompts in BOLD have been filled. Also, a list of story links will go here as I write. :)

1. A Matter of Record - 275 words, July 2019, Chronicles of Narnia, biography / autobiography
2. Which Constrains Them To Alter - 550 words, July 2019, Naruto, warning signs
3. Many Happy Returns of the Day - 450 words, July 2019, Defenders (MCU), another year older: birthdays
4. Interrogating the Text from the Wrong Perspective - 125 words, July 2019, Enchanted Forest Chronicles, plays and scripts
5. Aim High - 250 words, July 2019, Vorkosigan Saga, mentors

6. At the Appropriate Time - 250 words, Aug. 2019, Chronicles of Narnia/Harry Potter, heat
7. Wild Honey - 100 words, Jan. 2020, Chronicles of Narnia/Harry Potter, honey
8. I Believe the Children Are Our Future - 1,425 words, Jun. 2020, Chronicles of Narnia, kids / babies
9. Between the Saltwater and the Sea-Strand - 3,515 words, Oct. 2020, Naruto, monsoon
edenfalling: stylized black-and-white line art of a sunset over water (Default)
2018-09-05 07:41 pm

Ladies Bingo card

I finally finished my [community profile] genprompt_bingo card... so of course I went out and got a new card for a different bingo challenge. *wry*

The challenge in this case is [community profile] ladiesbingo, for stories about relationships between two or more female characters. Which is so totally up my alley I couldn't resist. :)


my card )

I'm a little unsure how to handle a few of these -- for example, farce is really not my forte -- but we'll see how it goes!

Rules: 500 word minimum per fill, fills must focus on relationships between two or more female characters, no more than one borderline fill per five fills. (See community FAQ for definitions of borderline fills.)

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ETA: Prompts in BOLD have been filled. Also, here is a list of story links!

1. Between the Light and Darkness - 800 words, Oct. 2018, Chronicles of Narnia, chiaroscuro
2. Find Me a Find - 725 words, Nov. 2018, Enchanted Forest Chronicles, soulmates
3. Opening Bid - 1,050 words, Dec. 2018, Vorkosigan Saga, habits and routines
4. Roll for Seduction - 1,175 words, Jan. 2019, Homestuck, sigh no more, ladies
5. The Virtues of the Beast - 625 words, Feb. 2019, Chronicles of Narnia, ship and captain / mount and rider

6. Room for Coincidence - 700 words, March 2019, MCU, roommates / sharing a room (WILD CARD)
7. Free Time and Other Unicorns - 1,675 words, March 2019, MCU, magical creatures
8. What Wind Is to Fire - 1,375 words, March 2019, Chronicles of Narnia, noble gasses
9. For Everything Which Is Yes - 575 words, April 2019, Black Jewels, the company of strangers
10. Every Cowgirl Sings Her Sad, Sad Song - 2,675 words, Sept. 2019, Homestuck, use of symbolism

11. The Fruits of Her Labor - 600 words, Oct. 2019, Homestuck, touch
12. No Friend Like a Sister - 1,450 words, Jan. 2020, original, siblings
13. The Three Sisters of Tumbledown Creek - 13,775 words, June 2020, Chronicles of Narnia/Naruto, someone gains purpose.
14. Building Bridges - 6,400 words, Sept. 2020, Chronicles of Narnia, the bridge.
15. The Common Woman's Gold - 1,100 words, Oct. 2020, Chronicles of Narnia, a member of the underclass (urchin / beggar / outcast)

16. Whilst You and I Keep Ourselves Warm - 1,625 words, Nov. 2020, Chronicles of Narnia, hurt/comfort
17. Narutostuck: The Deepest Secret Nobody Knows - 750 words, Feb. 2021, Homestuck/Naruto, underage
18. A Long Road from Home - 1,675 words, Feb. 2021, Darkangel Trilogy, illness
19. Go Forth To Meet the Future - 1,900 words, March 2021, Chronicles of Narnia, wibbly-wobbly-timey-wimey: time travel
edenfalling: stylized black-and-white line art of a sunset over water (Default)
2018-05-21 08:32 pm

[Rec] TRANSLATION of "I'm Your Gun" and "Target Practice" -- MCU

Hey, if anybody out there speaks Russian, I would like to mention that [archiveofourown.org profile] space_slasher has translated two of my MCU three-sentence ficlets into Russian: I'm Your Gun, in which Bucky is Steve's (metaphorical) gun, and Target Practice, in which Bucky & Peggy seduce Steve with their shooting skills.


Here is a link to the Russian translations. :D
edenfalling: headshot of a raccoon, looking left (raccoon)
2018-02-09 10:28 am

[Fic] "Like a Knife All Blade" -- Daredevil (MCU)

Summary: When they were twelve, Elektra and Matthew escaped from the Hand. Twenty years later, they've built lives in the corrupt port city of Hell's Kitchen -- Elektra as a cartel assassin, Matthew as a medium and exorcist. But the Hand is about to find them, and they'll have to reclaim all the pieces of their past if they want to survive and save their adopted home. (1,500 words)

Note: This started as a kinkmeme prompt fill, though I'm not sure how faithful it actually is to the prompt. It's also obviously the opening scene of a longer story, but since it stands reasonably well on its own as a character and worldbuilding exercise, I'm going to post it as-is and make no promises about ever writing the continuation.

Also, I am totally claiming this as a wild card fill for my Daredevil Bingo card, using the AU: urban fantasy prompt. *wry*

[ETA: the AO3 crosspost is now up!]

Like a Knife All Blade )

We'll see if that insists on turning into an actual novella, or whether posting this scene was enough to appease the plot bunny and let me focus on other things.
edenfalling: headshot of a raccoon, looking left (raccoon)
2017-12-30 10:59 am

[Fic] Three Sentence Ficathon fills, part three

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 [tumblr.com profile] 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 [tumblr.com profile] 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...
edenfalling: headshot of a raccoon, looking left (raccoon)
2017-12-16 12:17 am

[Fic] Three Sentence Ficathon fills, part two

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

(Yes, I know that two of these are actually four-sentence fics. Shush. My struggle with structural limitations is an open secret.)

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7. ) For anonymous: Inception, Ariadne/Arthur, Two drifters, off to see the world, written 12/8/17 [AO3 version]

each day a new and different sun (175 words)

"Columbia or Madagascar?" Arthur asks as he leans over Ariadne's drafting table and obscures her Escher-inspired garden maze (nothing serious, just keeping her hand in between jobs) with his forearms, sleeves shoved carelessly upward to reveal tantalizing swathes of skin.

Ariadne taps her pencil against his knuckles as she considers -- they have been spending a lot of time in Paris this year, and while it's nice to have somewhere to come home to, she's been getting restless and ready for a change -- but she doesn't particularly care what horizon they travel toward so long as they pick up and go; and so she shrugs and says, "Which job has more interesting details, more functional teammates, and less chance of us getting shot?"

Arthur blinks, and then smiles: "I won't presume to judge what you'd find most interesting, but I think our chances of getting shot or stuck with incompetent coworkers are fairly low in both cases, because I was actually proposing a vacation; we can certainly afford it, and after all, we never did finish our honeymoon."

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8. ) For [livejournal.com profile] iawenbemerry: MCU, Hawkeye +/ Black Widow, amends, written 12/9/17 [AO3 version]

the journey of a thousand miles (250 words)

There's nothing Natasha can do directly for Clint, not while the fallout of Vienna, Berlin, and Leipzig is still fresh and every eye trained to see through shadows is watching for her movements, wondering which way she'll jump now she's cut free from any organization.

Instead, she leaves ciphered border-crossing instructions in one of the electronic dead drops Laura has access to; anonymously mails a set of false passports (Laura Ingalls and her children Carter, Layla, and Peter) to a suspiciously innocuous heritage seed company's post office box; rents a modest corporate jet through three shell companies and a half dozen aliases that ultimately trace back to Stark Industries; and files a flight plan from Council Bluffs to Regina.

When Tony tracks her to a Tim Horton's in Saskatoon three days later, still fuming over her refusal to block Steve and Barnes from taking off for Siberia, Natasha pushes a coffee and doughnut across the table and says, before he can get a word out, "I don't know where any of them are; yes, that was the point; no, I won't help you find them," because while she won't regret the side she chose -- the Accords are a hideous botch and won't stand up to the first round of legal challenges, but some regulation is both practically and ethically necessary and Steve's headfirst stubbornness wasn't going to win any leverage over the people drafting the treaties and laws -- she does regret leaving Clint without a partner, and running decoy for his family's escape is how she begins to make amends.

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9. ) For [livejournal.com profile] runespoor7: Naruto, Naruto/Sasuke/Sakura, someday, together, we'll shine, written 12/10/17 [AO3 version]

makes the dream work (175 words)

Sakura reaches the valley's rim just in time to shout and send both boys' final strikes awry in startlement; when the dust and shock of the explosions clear, she trips her way down the cliff to where they lie prone and bleeding, and does her best, with stolen supplies and only basic academy training, to bind the wide, abraded stretch of Sasuke's shoulder and the matching deep and half-burned wound in Naruto's side.

"I won't come back," Sasuke says as he pushes himself to his feet, swaying with pain and fatigue; "I can find training from somebody else instead of Orochimaru, I can ignore the curse seal and find a different kind of power, but I can't stay in Konoha and I have to leave before the next retrieval team catches up."

"I know," Sakura agrees, as she washes the evidence of Sasuke's determination from her hands in the river, and then, before she can continue, Naruto opens his eyes and finishes for her: "But we're a team, you asshole, and we won't let you leave alone."

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10. ) For anonymous: Any, any, there is nothing better than sitting in the branches of a giant pine tree and watching the sunrise, written 12/12/17 [AO3 version]

the good of your stars and trees (250 words)

"Explain to me again why it was so vitally important to climb a tree in the dead of night instead of doing something sensible like sleeping off Ino and Kaiba's ridiculous overkill idea of a party, or even running last-minute security scenarios for your investiture," Sasuke grumbled as he picked a bit of sap off the cuff of his shirt.

Naruto tossed a pine cone at Sasuke's forehead and said, "It's nostalgic, obviously; tree-climbing was like the first time we all got along and had fun as a team, and this is my last night of freedom from bureaucracy, so if I want to go stargazing and watch the sunrise with my teammates from the best vantage point in Konoha, I'm going to go stargazing and watch the sunrise with you guys -- so there, Hokage's orders!"

"You're not Hokage for another eight hours, and if you don't both shut up and let me undo my hangover in peace, I swear I will strip you naked halfway through the investiture and neither of you will ever live it down," Sakura said flatly from where she lay prone one branch up, but she reached down to thread her fingers gently through both Naruto and Sasuke's hair instead of any gesture to back up her threat; Naruto hummed wordlessly in his throat and pushed up into the contact, and even Sasuke deigned to close his eyes and smile like the flicker of a falling star.

They watched night fade into morning together.

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11. ) For [livejournal.com profile] ama_ranth_827: Any, Any, I platonically want to have sex with you. No big deal., written 12/12/17 [AO3 version]

like a thunderbolt (175 words)

As she withdrew her sparking hand from the guts of the last member of the unexpected perimeter patrol, ripping out a segment of the sucker's spine for good measure, Nebula turned and said, "Once we finish retrieving the rest of the Guardians from this pathetic excuse for a prison, I wish to platonically engage in sexual intercourse with you; I'm told that Ravagers are frequently experienced in such matters and I've had no luck finding other partners to practice on."

Kraglin's mouth dropped open; Yondu's arrow, thus bereft of guidance, continued its last trajectory and plowed straight through a stone guard tower in a moderately impressive explosion -- which of course defeated the whole damn purpose of sneaking in and silencing the patrol squad before they could raise alarms, fuck his life.

"Afterwards, you can attempt another explanation of why some people find hats aesthetically pleasing," Nebula added, and, hefting her newly acquired lightning canon onto one implausibly slender shoulder, strode toward the still-smoking gap in the ancient Kree fortress as if a full-on frontal assault had always been the plan.

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12. ) For anonymous: Any, any, ochre's dust, vermillion too, cobalt crushed, the purest blue, a gram of gold leaf for the border, written 12/16/17 [AO3 version]

a language all nations understand (375 words)

Note: This is Narnia fanfic, but pretty tenuously -- it features two OCs in a region we never actually see in canon. Still fanfic, though! The universe is neat that way. :)

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Sechembaris squinted through her close-work glasses at the finished page: green penstemon vines spiraled up the left margin, extending delicate tendrils between paragraphs and words to bloom in pink and scarlet flowers, graced here and there by the blue orchard bees of southwestern Calormen (much missed, here in the Seven Isles, though honeybees and bumblebees had their consolations) and one rufous hummingbird in bold crimson orange, and the whole framed by an intricate latticework gold border, made deliberately imperfect by one omitted line in the upper right corner, as a courtesy to the gods: truly an effort worthy of her father's best training and sure to nourish the eyes and souls of all who gazed upon its beauty.

She set aside her gold leaf stamp, pushed the glasses up her forehead, and leaned back in her cushioned chair to stretch the kinks out of her shoulders and wrists; "Ten pages left on my end and I think my hand may twist into permanent cramps if I work any more today; renew my spirit with a reminder of how much the Archen king is paying for this anniversary gift?" she called toward her sister's end of their workroom.

"Half a normal year's profit," Nazileen called back without turning, a fine-point brush held delicately between her fingers, "more than enough to buy this shop and the upstairs rooms entire and thus save both on rent and on worry over our landlady's whims; did I not say in Ifayyapura, O my sister and my other self, that while the North is a land benighted in the eyes of both gods and poets, their gold is as good as any other and rarity makes all talents shine bright as diamonds scattered in dust?"

"I remember that distinctly, just as I remember our father's debts and your unwanted suitors, which I am sure had nothing to do with our abrupt departure from the empire," Sechembaris said wryly, "but in any case, the light is fading and I prefer not to spoil my eyes when we are so close to completion; put away your paints and help me drink to the honor of the slave king and his traitorous queen, since it's their money paying for our wine."

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More to come at some point...
edenfalling: headshot of a raccoon, looking left (raccoon)
2017-12-08 06:31 pm

[Fic] Three Sentence Ficathon fills, part one

The first is actually from the previous iteration of the ficathon. It is an alternate fill for a prompt which I didn't post to the ficathon itself because it requires a bunch of contextual information to make sense. In other words, it's set loosely in the world of Sunbright and Shadowfall, which works because "Sunbright and Shadowfall" is itself loosely based on Sleeping Beauty (among other things), so tossing in a Beauty and the Beast episode for a previous Queen-in-Waiting seemed reasonable.

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31. ) For [livejournal.com profile] silvr_dagger: Beauty and the Beast (Disney or fairy tale; f/f genderswap), Beauty (or Belle)/Beast, roses in the snow, written 1/14/17

signs and bargains (150 words)

Beauty is the thirteenth bride sacrificed to the transformed princess: wrapped in wedding clothes, handed a spear and a sword, and sent through the thorny, snow-swathed gates to guard the woman whose spell-twisted life keeps the town at the fortress's feet safe from the ravages of the Shining Ones, for they are bound never to kill a would-be, could-be Queen before she fulfills the Great Sign; perhaps the bargain the town has struck is hollow, trading their own safety for the hope of the world at large, but Beauty has two sisters each with children of their own, and she goes willingly to shield them.

As the gates swing shut and silence swallows the bone-white courtyard, the princess greets her with a petal in one clawed hand, and a thorn in the other. "Welcome, jailer," she says in her hoarse, bear-deep voice, tongue a bloody flicker between nightmare fangs; "Choose our fate."

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

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1. ) For [livejournal.com profile] caramelsilver: Narnia, Susan, to be, written 12/5/17 [AO3 version]

that have chalked forth the way (200 words)

Susan examined the grassy depression between the trees with a considering eye: once it might have held a pool, and thus a universe now dead and forgotten, or it might have waited dry and quiet as long as the Wood had stood in this place between places, wrapped in green and silent slumber, but either way it held potential.

Archimedes once claimed that, given a lever and a place to stand, he would move the earth; he had dreamed too small.

Shaking the Wood's lethargy from her shoulders, Susan unscrewed her canteen and poured its contents -- ordinary London tap water, drawn from her kitchen sink after the breakfast washing-up and before she wrote a letter explaining her absence to her landlady -- into the deepest part of the hollow, until a little marshy pocket formed, and then, before it could all seep away and be lost, she touched the green Ring in her pocket and stepped into the puddle; "Be," she told the seed of a universe, teetering on the edge of life, and as the magic took hold and swirled her downward through darkness and stars, she wondered what she might find in this newborn world of her own making.

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2. ) For [livejournal.com profile] lizzie_marie_23: Narnia, Edmund, network, written 12/5/17 [AO3 version]

hope, like roads across the earth (250 words)

"The old road went along the north side of the Glasswater -- you can still see a few paving stones under the moss on that eyot -- but the naiads must have shifted the riverbed during the Winter and now we'll either have to petition them to allow a ford to the southern bank, or cut a new path through the forest around those hills; going straight up would make too steep a grade for carts and staying this close to the water risks mudslides or washouts after heavy rain," said Steelclaw the Badger, newly appointed head of the Royal Surveyors, as she painstakingly corrected her century-old topographical map with a greasy pencil.

Edmund sighed and kicked the potholed, grass-choked ruts of the old stone road they'd traced westward from the coast; "Let's stick a pin in that question until the census finishes and we have more than hearsay and guesses about where people actually live, and which villages the repatriates are likely to rebuild," he said, then added in response to Steelclaw's frown, "I know good craftsmanship is its own reward, but we don't have the budget to repair roads to places nobody lives anymore."

Reestablishing Narnia's transportation network was a lot more work than he'd imagined on his way to the Witch's castle, but he supposed that was always the way of things; real life involved much more drudgery, sore feet, and embarrassing mistakes, but unlike enchantments and spiteful dreams that melted like ice in summer, things built honestly would last.

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3. ) For anonymous: Any, any, a million birds on the branches of my heart, written 12/6/17 [AO3 version]

you can be me when I'm gone (125 words)

Cherubs aren't meant to love, no more than a forest loves the myriad creatures that shelter in its branches, but somehow Calliope's alternate self -- weak and dominated by her brother, with no notion of her powers nor intent to use them -- has learned to trace the flight of individual birds, to walk among them and care about their fate.

She isn't very good at it yet, Calliope thinks, but she has time and life to practice, and friends to help her on her way; she'll learn and change, the way Calliope herself will never manage, too fixed on her eternal war with Caliborn and her chance to finally make an end.

As the singularity swallows her forever, Calliope watches her other self fly free of the game, and smiles.

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4. ) For [livejournal.com profile] lizzie_marie_23: Othello/Macbeth, Iago & or / Lady Macbeth, "I'll fleece him presently", written 12/6/17 [AO3 version, now with entirely iambic pentameter dialogue!]

When in Rome (300 words exactly)

The Scottish queen has some sin on her soul, as is true for most who hold power; Iago would not care but that some pang of conscience (or the need to mask herself with piety) drives her to bestow gold upon Venice's war with Turk, through the medium of his general, come south to Rome to bargain with the Pope for peace on land so that Venice may focus on the islands and the sea.

He pours his own share into Othello's hands, save for one gold coin -- "That is recompense to Emilia, for her lost chance at praying before Peter's throne," he says in answer to the Moor's questioning glance, "but you need courting gifts more than I these days, to win fair Desdemona's troth" -- and smiles and shrugs when Othello laughs and warns him not to be too honest lest he destroy his marriage.

"My husband swore loyalty to a king who showed him little favor in return," the queen murmurs unexpectedly in Iago's ear as Othello strides away, and he fights down his reflexive reach for his absent sword; "I do think you forged of similar metal, in which case I remind you that such fruitless generosity to careless lords serves strong men ill in the end."

He is rarely impulsive, nor prone to show his hand, and yet he bends his head to brush his lips against her white hand, the picture of a simple soldier awed and fumbling before a highborn foreign lady, however barbarous and northern her land, and murmurs in return: "I know. And I shall fleece him presently."

"Honest indeed," says the Scottish queen, and though she rubs her knuckles as if to wash away his kiss, she smiles like daggers in the night, one sinner to an equally stained soul.

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Note: The time periods of these plays do not match up AT ALL, but what the heck, let's pretend! :) Double fill, and also a triple drabble.

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5. ) For [livejournal.com profile] iawenbemerry: The Defenders, Foggy, aftermath, written 12/8/17 [AO3 version]

for the living (300 words)

The thing about an unexpected death is that it unleashes a flood of huge, wrenching, and time-sensitive decisions exactly when the people left behind are worst equipped to handle those responsibilities.

Foggy's used to being the person hired to take some of that weight off other people's shoulders, and now he thinks he might have been underselling his services, based on how much he wants to curl up under an afghan, sleep the clock around, and let someone else sort through the detritus of Matt's life; but there isn't anyone else he trusts to both keep Matt's secrets and make sensible, legally-defensible choices about bequests and taxes and stock portfolios -- except Karen, of course, but executing Matt's will, clearing out his apartment, cancelling his delivery services, telling Josie he wouldn't be swinging by the bar anymore... all of that would hurt her just as badly as it hurts Foggy and if nothing else he wants to save her from these extra shards of glass in the heart.

"I hope your religion is right enough about heaven and stuff that you're up there hugging your dad right now," Foggy says to the ceiling as he sits on the bare floor of Matt's stripped apartment, drinking the last bottle of Matt's shitty imported beer, "but as soon as you're done with the reunion, you should look down and start feeling guilty about the mess you left, just like I said you would, you asshole; you don't get to be perfectly happy without me and Karen," and if he closes his eyes and pretends he can hear Matt's rueful, self-deprecating laugh, that's between nobody but him and Hell's Kitchen, and this neighborhood can keep one last secret for the idiot who poured out his life in its name.

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6. ) For anonymous: Any, any, do not weep, maiden, for war is kind, written 12/8/17 [AO3 version]

Three Views of Alternia (100 words exactly)

War is kind: it brings power, wealth, and everything Meenah dreamed of as a wiggler, a whole world within her grasp to shape to her smallest whim.

War is kind: it kills clean and quick, unlike the waking death of regrets and degradation that grinds Porrim down, until her owner's play at love almost seems a comfort instead of another violation.

War is kind: it paints a story vast as the heavens, that will last as long as the empire, and Aranea weaves herself into the center where her death will set the capstone on the rebellion's inevitable, glorious defeat.

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More to follow at some point, probably!
edenfalling: stylized black-and-white line art of a sunset over water (Default)
2017-05-15 08:32 pm

wherein Liz sees GotG2 and has FEELS about it

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, I went to see Guardians of the Galaxy 2 this afternoon, and I'd been forewarned that there were Feels as well as laughs and quality explosions, but oh man, I was not prepared.

*wallows happily in All The Emotions*

Also, this film does surprisingly well on the female characters with their own plot arcs who talk to other female characters front? Which I was frankly not expecting from this particular corner of the MCU, but there it is. And it is very nice!

Some vaguely spoilery thoughts under the cut )

Anyway, I enjoyed GotG2 a LOT. I mean, I went in expecting to have a good time, but (as I remarked to a friend years ago, in reference to Captain America: The First Avenger), that movie was way better than it strictly needed to be, and you could tell everyone involved in making it was having a ball -- and that carries through on screen in both obvious and subtle ways. :D
edenfalling: headshot of a raccoon, looking left (raccoon)
2016-12-02 04:24 pm

[Fic] Three Sentence Ficathon fills, part two

As always, here is the link to the current ficathon. Come make and fill prompts! The more people who play, the more fun for everyone (and the more chance you'll find fandoms that interest you). :D

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5. ) For [livejournal.com profile] silvr_dagger: Any, any, siren song, written 11/30/16 [AO3 version]

madly, deeply (150 words)

Foggy wonders, sometimes, if he was born with wax in his metaphorical ears, something that keeps him from hearing the siren songs that rule his best friends' lives: justice, vengeance, unvarnished truth, a million other shades of poison. He doesn't feel it's a flaw -- anyone who claims to welcome the disasters and heartache that Matt and Karen's respective obsessions lead them into is both crazy and lying -- but now and then he looks at his normal ambitions and modestly comfortable life and wonders if he's missing some kind of high (personal, social, whatever) along with the obvious lows, because his friends have made it abundantly clear that some vital spark in their hearts will wither and die unless they're free to dive headfirst into the treacherous waters they love.

He just wishes he could teach them to find joy on the steady shore (in safety, with him) instead.

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6. ) For [livejournal.com profile] deceivepolyps: great (misfire prompt), written 11/30/16 [AO3 version]

on the internet, nobody can do your emotional labor for you (200 words)

"Jaaaaaade," Dave drawled as he leaned against the back of the sofa, draping his arms over Jade's shoulders and resting his chin on her head, "I demand clarification of your response to my dinner invitation extravaganza; what do you mean by just writing 'great' without any context; don't you know you're not supposed to leave your words naked; they need punctuation and emojis to create the illusion of tone save me from having to do hard emotional interpretation labor; I'm no good at emotional labor, Jade, have pity."

"Nobody's good at emotional labor when they start out, but I learned how to interpret your writing without punctuation and emojis," Jade said cheerfully, a faint green light beginning to limn her form in warning of imminent teleportation; "Suck it up and deal, mister, or Karkat and I will go on our own private dinner date extravaganza while you loll around in abject despair over your inability to take words at face value."

"Great," Dave said into the minor rush of air that accompanied her departure, "real smooth, genius; you oughta borrow Jane's fedora for that move," and resigned himself to Karkat's inevitable laughter when Jade pulled the story out over dessert.

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7. ) For [livejournal.com profile] recessivejean: The Enchanted Forest Chronicles, Cimorene (& anyone), unnecessarily complicated walk in the woods, written 11/30/16 [AO3 version]

a real magic (225 words)

"Mendanbar, I don't mean to interrupt, but the forest does know I'm only a member of the royal family by marriage, and therefore unable to handle big problems by waving my hands and wishing very hard, right?"

Mendanbar glanced briefly up from the accounts he was reviewing (under orders from Cimorene, which he had protested mostly for show; he was perfectly well aware they were important, and anyway reviewing accounts someone else had drawn up was much less frustrating than trying to create them himself), smiled, returned to his papers... and then looked back properly at the train of princesses, knights, talking animals, and various other complications that had somehow found his wife on what was meant to be a short walk to see the spiral dance of levitating boulders that an artistically inclined witch had spelled into place two hundred years ago, and had then followed her back to the castle (incidentally tramping mud all through the corridors; Willin was going to pitch a fit).

"I think the forest may be throwing problems at you because it knows you have the common sense to solve them instead of waving your hands and wishing them away," Mendanbar said, wryly, as he rose to help sort out the inevitable chaos, "but I'll have a word with the sword tomorrow and we'll see if that helps."

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8. ) For [livejournal.com profile] celeste9: MCU, Clint/Natasha/Laura, whatever works, written 11/30/16 [AO3 version]

just as long as we're together (225 words)

"I am so sorry, Nat," Laura said as she stared at the charred ruins of the turkey; "I wanted to give you a perfect introduction to American holiday traditions, but apparently I should have spent more time bugging my mom in the kitchen than bugging my dad in the garage when I was a kid, since apparently cooking is not nearly as close to engineering as baking is."

Clint dropped a cheer-up kiss on her forehead and heaved the useless, smoking avian corpse into the sink; "The pie's still fine," he said, "and there's always takeout Chinese, which is actually more traditional in my family than any fancy home-cooked meal."

Natasha's kiss landed on Laura's nose, then slid teasingly down just to the corner of her mouth before Nat pulled back with a smile and said, "I've eaten turkey -- my trainers were very thorough about cultural details -- and while I appreciate the effort, I have to say I'd prefer egg rolls."

Laura sighed and let her husband and lover pull her toward the basket of takeout menus that sat in mocking splendor at the end of her kitchen counter; probably this disaster had always been inevitable, and if nothing else she'd have a funny story to tell someday (in carefully redacted form), but in the meantime, she had an argument over appropriate spice levels to mediate.

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Note: Yes, I know that one is four sentences. Shush.

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9. ) For [livejournal.com profile] mermaids_feet: Hamilton, Alexander Hamilton/Any, Bachelor AU, written 12/1/16 [AO3 version]

would smell as sweet (125 words)

"I'm not supposed to warn you, Alex, but I care too much to make you be gracious extemporaneously," Angelica murmured into Alexander's ear, the wild curls of her hair disguising the movement of her lips from the ever-present cameras; "I'm going to give John Church my last rose tonight instead of you -- and don't try to change my mind, because I have something so much better in store for you."

For once wordless, Alexander could only hope she correctly interpreted the code of his eyelashes as he blinked away his disappointment and confusion.

He shouldn't have worried; they were in sync as always, though equally as always, Angelica managed to surprise him when she said, between another series of kisses, "Let me tell you about my sister Eliza."

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Note: The Bachelorette is functionally the same idea, right...? :)

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10. ) For [livejournal.com profile] silvr_dagger: Any, any, sunlight and shadow, written 12/2/16 [AO3 version]

under a bushel (125 words)

Eliza would say she's spent her life in shadows, effortless outshined by first Angelica and then Alexander as they stride forth in the strength of their convictions. They try to convince her otherwise, tell her again and again that she's the sun itself that brings light into their worlds and lets them flourish unafraid, but the sun, she thinks, should be bold and free and effortlessly visible in the world, not happily veiled and distracted by the curtains and concerns of her domestic life.

When they die, first Alexander and then Angelica, Eliza clothes herself in black, but instead of dousing her light she throws open all her windows and doors and begins to shine for the world as she always shone in their eyes.

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Eventually I will get these up on AO3.
edenfalling: headshot of a raccoon, looking left (raccoon)
2016-11-30 10:47 pm

[Fic] Three Sentence Ficathon fills, part one

Two of these are actually from the previous iteration of the ficathon, which I apparently neglected to ever post to my journal. Oops?

Anyway, here is the link to the current ficathon if you want to play too. :D

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25. ) For [personal profile] syrena_of_the_lake: Any, any, everything outside us is mad as the mist and snow, written 1/18/16

battle magic (250 words)

"The trouble with magic," Edith said, studying the penciled reports of King Feyraud's current position with an absent frown, "and by 'trouble' I mean the reason it's so inefficient, is that it has no system. Every magician has a different center, which means there isn't any way to generalize from one to another. And that means people who try to turn magic into a rational field of study or practice end up writing treatises of rather dodgy philosophy and dictionaries of ingredients and spells that won't work for anyone but their creators, instead of something useful like a maths textbook or an engineering manual. So yes, I know some battle magic, but that doesn't mean anything in practical terms since none of what I've read will work for me. Especially not Jadis's spells."

"That is very interesting and I'd love to hear more once we're back at Cair Paravel," Mary said, "but at the moment I only need to know if you can do something both large and subtle enough with your shadows to keep the Sarovencian sentries from noticing the raiding party I plan to lead across the river this evening."

Edith lifted her eyes from her contemplation of the map. "Oh, is that all? I can't do it from here, but if I'm with the party, that shouldn't be a problem. It might even be fun." Her hand dropped to the stone knife at her belt, and Mary felt a moment of sympathy for the unsuspecting Sarovencians as her sister smiled.

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Note: This wound up as a tiny installment in As the Morning and the Night, my genderswapped Pevensies AU. King Feyraud of Sarovence is an OC ruler of a mountain country near Archenland who has a tenuous blood relation to the old Narnian royal family; he attempts to claim Narnia by conquest both in this AU and in my normal timeline.

I consider this ficlet non-canonical (for the AU) in its fine details, but I intend to rework it into a proper story someday.


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26. ) For [livejournal.com profile] killing_kurare: Any, Any, You must have made some kind of mistake // I asked for death, but instead I'm awake, written 2/29/16 [AO3 version]

the seer and the light (150 words)

She rises out of the Green Sun, shedding plasma in her wake, and for a moment everything is gloriously, impossibly clear: all the paths of fortune laid out in terrible, shining simplicity to the end of all possible universes. Then it occurs to Rose that sight implies someone to do the seeing, just as paths imply someone to travel them, which implies that she exists, which implies that she isn't done, and her enlightenment begins to fade.

She buries that thought with practiced skill, but buried isn't quite the same as gone and she retains just enough memory of future choices to know that she'll chase that taste of oblivion in other ways -- the same way she's spent her whole life chasing the void where her mother's love should be -- and despite the ruin down that road, she already knows she won't manage to (won't want to) make herself stop.

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Note: Homestuck, obviously. :)

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1. ) For [livejournal.com profile] notoriousreign: MCU, Laura Barton/Clint Barton, vacation, written 11/29/16 [AO3 version]

to get away from it all (175 words)

Once Laura got Clint past the urge to rehang the door of their very swanky hotel suite, and made him call in a tip to SHIELD about the suspicious behavior of the front desk clerk and two of the cleaning staff instead of pursuing the people himself, he settled fairly well into relaxation: his only stipulation that she try either scuba diving or surfing before they headed back north.

"I never really appreciated how fun doing nothing could be, before," he said, breath tickling along the curve of her ear as she lounged on a beach towel and basked in the sun and the pressure of his strong, callused fingers rubbing sunblock into her shoulders and down the hollow of her spine; "Maybe I just needed the right beautiful woman as my partner and mission coordinator."

"I'm telling Nat you said that, and getting Maria to record the resulting carnage," Laura murmured sleepily into the cradle of her folded arms, and smiled to herself at a job well done when Clint stopped his massage to laugh.

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2. ) For [livejournal.com profile] hanorganaas: Star Wars, Han/Leia, Passionate, written 11/29/16 [AO3 version]

the ruling passion conquers reason still (175 words)

They never stop loving each other; that's not the problem.

It is, however, a symptom of the problem, because the same passion that fuels their connection -- that makes them fight the whole galaxy when it would keep them apart -- drives them in all things, and what they want (besides each other's embrace, and Luke safe, and Vader and the Emperor dead) is fundamentally incompatible; Han will chew off his own legs to win freedom for himself while Leia will bind her entire self into service to win freedom for everyone else, and neither is willing to give in any more than they could possibly let go.

They love each other from a distance, then -- a comet swinging around a sun to spell glory or disaster, a meteor shower burning up in the atmosphere of the planet it can't escape, a pair of unstable stars perturbing each other into massive solar flares -- and each takes comfort knowing the other is out somewhere in the void, burning with a flame as unquenchable as their own.

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3. ) For [livejournal.com profile] adamas: Daredevil; Ensemble or Matt Murdock/Any; teaching how to see without sight, written 11/30/16 [AO3 version]

absence makes (275 words)

After Karen banged and tripped her way across what felt like miles of treacherous floor and furniture, Matt guided her (both of them still laughing) to his couch and said, "Maybe we should start with something simpler, or at least something that keeps you in one place and doesn't split your focus so much."

"Oh?" Karen said, and immediately wanted to kick herself for the breathless inanity of the word and her tone of voice, and then wanted to kick herself again for the way the jump in her heartbeat and the flush of heat across her cheeks (just kissing the edge of Matt's old mask, pulled low over her eyes) might have given Matt the idea that she was upset at him instead of mildly annoyed at herself and how much this was turning her on.

"Yeah, just, I'm going to hold my hand near some part of your body so you can feel the heat and air displacement -- because nobody's ever completely still -- and see if you can reach out and touch my hand with your own: no guessing," Matt said, sliding one hand through the loose tendrils of her hair as he spoke, in a slow, tender gesture of farewell before he shifted his weight off the couch and left Karen's skin tingling at the suddenly untenable lack of his touch... and she wondered, not for the first time but with more force than ever before, how he could possibly stand to live this way -- all his nerves raw, exposed, and hungry -- because despite the blackness that (temporarily, voluntarily) shrouded her world, she had never been more conscious of his body in her life.

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4. ) For [livejournal.com profile] silvr_dagger: Star Trek TOS or AOS, T'Pring/Uhura, a logical arrangement, written 11/30/16 [AO3 version]

no diplomacy like candor (250 words)

"He must contribute his genes toward the continuation of our species; he requires an advocate to navigate our people's internal politics in his name and that of his family; and he needs my control to lean on when his own fails, as I am sure you can attest it has done at inopportune moments," T'Pring said, somehow managing to make Spock and Nyota's shared bed and cabin look like a throne in an audience chamber, a domain entirely within her own control rather than someone else's home she had entered without invitation.

"All logical arguments," Nyota said, and left the implicit 'so far as they go, which isn't very' hanging in the tone of her voice, the position of her eyebrows, and the faint roughness at the end of the final word as if she'd been about to lead into another phrase.

T'Pring smiled, as shocking and unexpected as rain in the desert, and said, "A most elegant turn of phrase and a true display of cross-species linguistic mastery, though if you had spoken so to me in another world, I might have challenged you to kal-if-fee for your presumption at standing between me and my betrothed; in this one, however, necessity and loss have taught me the art of compromise, and I think that any person Spock would choose to bind himself to is one I might equally choose for myself, for mind, for soul, and for body -- and most particularly, in matters of the body, for your talented tongue."

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Note: I went with AOS. :)

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Part two coming tomorrow, maybe...