---------------------------------------------
Master List of Elizabeth Culmer's Fiction
---------------------------------------------

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.)

---------------

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

---------------

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

Batch the fourth. :)

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

---------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------

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

Lost in Translation (195 words)

Fandom = Chronicles of Narnia. Contains Telmarine backstory.

-----

"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.

---------------
---------------

( 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

-----

"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.

---------------
---------------

( 21. ) For ultra_fic: any, any, midnight at the lost and found, written 2/9/21

Found and Lost (110 words)

Fandom = The Magnus Archives

-----

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.

---------------
---------------

( 22. ) For kalira: any, any, bloody fluff, written 2/9/21

Strange New World (235 words)

Fandom = Chronicles of Narnia

-----

"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."

---------------
---------------

( 23. ) For 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)

-----

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.

---------------
---------------

( 24. ) For 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.

-----

"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.

---------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------

More to come as I write them. :)

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 rthstewart.

---------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------

( 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.

-----

"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.

---------------
---------------

( 20. ) For 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*

-----

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.

---------------
---------------

( 21. ) For 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*

-----

"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.

---------------
---------------

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

Fashion Tip (75 words)

-----

"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.

---------------
---------------

( 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.

-----

"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."

---------------
---------------

( 24. ) For 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

-----

"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?"

---------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------

I really do need to get around to leaving some prompts of my own...

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? :)

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

---------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------

( 19. ) For 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."

---------------
---------------

( 20. ) For 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."

---------------
---------------

( 21. ) For 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.

---------------
---------------

( 22. ) For 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.

---------------
---------------

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

Minimum Wage Woes (150 words)

Note: Six sentences, because reasons. :)

-----

"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.

---------------
---------------

( 24. ) For 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."

---------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------

And now back to trying not to fall asleep at work. *sigh*

I have a new 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 )

-----

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

Hey, if anybody out there speaks Russian, I would like to mention that 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

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

---------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------

( 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.

---------------
---------------

( 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...

-----

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.

---------------
---------------

( 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.

---------------
---------------

( 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.

---------------
---------------

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

worth a thousand words (275 words)

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

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

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

---------------
---------------

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

one for the road (175 words)

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

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

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

---------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------

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

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.

---------------
---------------

( 31. ) For 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."

---------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------

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

---------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------

( 1. ) For 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.

---------------
---------------

( 2. ) For 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.

---------------
---------------

( 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.

---------------
---------------

( 4. ) For 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.

-----

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.

---------------
---------------

( 5. ) For 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.

---------------
---------------

( 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.

---------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------

More to follow at some point, probably!

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

---------------
---------------

( 5. ) For 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.

---------------
---------------

( 6. ) For 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.

---------------
---------------

( 7. ) For 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."

---------------
---------------

( 8. ) For 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.

-----

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

---------------
---------------

( 9. ) For 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."

-----

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

---------------
---------------

( 10. ) For 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.

---------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------

Eventually I will get these up on AO3.