edenfalling: headshot of a raccoon, looking left (raccoon)
Master List of Elizabeth Culmer's Fiction


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

Minor Fandom Fanfiction
(currently includes BtVS/A:tS, Daredevil (MCU), The Dark Is Rising, FF7: Mercverse AU, Inception, and Star Trek: AOS)

Miscellaneous Fanfiction
(Currently includes: American Gods, An Ash-Blonde Witch, Arthurian Mythology, Avengers (MCU), Batman, the Bible, the Black Jewels series, the Bourne trilogy, Captain America (MCU), Charlotte's Web, Code Geass, the Darkangel trilogy, Death Note, Discworld, Doctor Who, Enchanted Forest Chronicles, The Girl with the Silver Eyes, Glee, Gormenghast, Guardians of the Galaxy (MCU), 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), 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.)



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; Daredevil Bingo; Genprompt Bingo; Domestic AU Prompt List
edenfalling: headshot of a raccoon, looking left (raccoon)
Last set of fills, until the next ficathon rolls around. :)


23. ) For [livejournal.com profile] silvr_dagger: Inception, Ariadne / or & any, minotaur, written 1/4/17 [AO3 version]

no morality by instinct (200 words exactly)

At the heart of every person's mind is a guardian, territorial and feral, that exacts repayment in blood and pain for all attempted intrusions; they can be evaded, confused, and with time and practice soothed to sleep, but they are never truly tamed; even the people a dreamer loves and trusts the most can still be ripped apart if they grow careless and startle the beast awake.

"Like a minotaur, a proper flesh-eater both maddened and cunning, sent to humble those who grow too proud of their power and cleverness and forget to observe the proper rituals," Eames says with a careless smile, "and you a combination of Daedalus and your own lovely namesake, both to build the maze that traps the monster and to spin the thread that guides us safely through."

"Ah, the benefits of a classical education," Ariadne says wryly, watching the slow and suspicious patrol of the squirrels and songbirds that populate the wilderness she's built in Eames's mind, and wonders whether, when Arthur begins testing her rough-draft maze for flaws, she'll have time to shoot herself awake before she learns what it feels like to die sliced apart by a thousand tiny claws and beaks.


24. ) For [livejournal.com profile] silvr_dagger: Any, any, stealing the sun, written 1/8/17 [AO3 version]

years of drought and famine (225 words)

The clouds are thin in the first years, translucent veils that drape in narrow, scattered bands across the sky: the world's victory sari, people call them, and marvel at the way they seem to catch faint fire at sunset or sunrise, kindling Solstar's white to color within their refracted folds, or to reflect Oceanus's blue-green shine like a dream of verdant growth. But gradually they grow thicker and more frequent, and eventually begin to blot out Solstar's light for hours at a time: an ill-omen, people say now, and wonder in whispers whether perhaps the white witch of the mere cursed the world in her death-throes, or whether the Aeriel was corrupted in her victory; wait, say others, the world was not born in a day, nor can its rebirth be easy; all changes are terrifying even when they bring prosperity and joy at the end of the shift; but patience and trust come hard after generations of the world's slow fall and there are mutterings against the work of Crystalglass, words that might grow into deeds without a countersign, and soon.

And then, at last, in the midst of a daylight darkness, there comes a thing unseen for generations: wrapped in the lowering gloom of oppressive clouds and the fear of the stolen sun, the sky breathes rain once more unto the thirsty earth.


Note: Darkangel Trilogy, obviously. :)


25. ) For [livejournal.com profile] silvr_dagger: Mad Max: Fury Road, any, chasing the sun, written 1/10/17 [AO3 version]

truth, like the sun (175 words)

They say if you drive west fast enough, the sun never sets; drive west fast enough and a single day lasts forever. The true metal, the true V8, they race across the sky in a blaze of glory too bright to look upon with pitiful fleshy eyes, and they will never die; this is Valhalla, the promise and the dream, where everything is caught in an eternity of perfect, howling speed and chrome.

"Flashy and hollow, just like the rest of Joe's lies, and easily turned around if the people here weren't too cowed and beaten down to think," Angharad says when Furiosa relates this bit of warboy lore, words dragged halting and unfamiliar between her teeth like a slow fuel leak she can already tell will leave her stranded and weaponless one of these endless days; "What if you drive east to meet the sun as a partner, instead of west to capture it?" and Furiosa sits in gear-ground silence for the rest of her watch rather than admit she's never thought to ask the question.


26. ) For [livejournal.com profile] silvr_dagger: Any, any, treason, written 1/10/17 [AO3 version]

the treason of pity (250 words)

"If I had it all to do over again," the Dolorosa says to her kismesis as they lie, sweaty, blood-streaked, and sated, in the little nest of torn sailcloth that serves as both pile and bedding ground for the slaves in Mindfang's crew, "I'd tell my son to aim for the Empress instead of the people; she is the Empire, after all, its incarnation as well as its creator; any attack on its power and order is an attack on her, and vice versa. Instead of making ourselves into a threat to put down, we could have shown her how the highbloods have already stolen control out from under her nose -- high treason on a scale to beggar belief -- and tried to set up something better in the wake of the resulting bloodbath; she admires strength and daring, after all, and surely after helping her regain power in practice as well as in theory, we would have convinced her that letting such qualities flourish among lowbloods does not automatically equal chaos."

"If you had it all to do over again, you'd do exactly the same as before," the Demoness says, a thread of weary resignation laced through her habitual scorn, "because I'd go back too, a thousand thousand times if necessary, until I nudged you back onto the path; my master only accepts the timeline that leads to his victory, and as we both know, there are punishments worse than death; do not seek more of them than are already your share."


Note: This will make much more sense if read in combination with The Time-Traveler's Kismesis: Counterthesis.


27. ) For [livejournal.com profile] lignota: Any, any, following smoke and remembering fire, written 1/12/17 [AO3 version]

the seat containing of unweary'd flame (Meet Adoration to My Household Gods) (200 words exactly)

Magic in this world, Susan reflected, was maddening compared to the magic she'd learned in Narnia; if that had been plucking ripe apples from low-hanging boughs in a well-tended orchard, this was wading through thorns and interminable flies in search of stray raspberries not yet discovered by birds or bears, or befriending some higher, older powers in hope of borrowing the bounty of their own hoards.

Still, she fought best from a distance, whether with weapons or words, and as bows were too conspicuous and handguns both too noisy and too illegal (not to mention of limited utility at best against vampires and demons), magic seemed the most immediately useful replacement.

Susan squeezed another drop of blood from her pricked fingertip, repeated once again in halting Greek (blast Peter for laughing when he realized she would have to learn multiple new languages and writing systems to master her new field), "Hestia, queen of hearth and home, strike this spark for your daughter," and smiled when the nest of kindling in her saucer breathed a sigh of smoke; it was no clear, bright flame to strike foes or summon aid, but all things would come with time, and work, and faith.


Note: Part of my One Equal Temper of Heroic Hearts series, which crosses Narnia and BtVS. The halves of the title come from the Orphic Hymn to Hestia (#84, Taylor's translation) and Tennyson's 'Ulysses,' respectively.


28. ) For anonymous: Any, any, tears of flowers, written 1/12/17 [AO3 version]

unwanted blessings (500 words exactly)

"The traditional blessing is for roses and jewels to fall from a poor but kind girl's lips with every word she speaks, but the fairy I met said that made it hard to hold actual conversations and tended to wreck local economies, not to mention the roses prickle something awful on the tongue," Morwen's new roommate, Rosamund, said when their conversation turned to their respective reasons for attending Stokey's Academy.

"Magic does have consequences," Morwen agreed. "Is that why you decided to become a sorceress? To see if you could unpick other traditional causes and effects?"

"Not exactly," Rosamund said with a frustrated scowl. "You see, the fairy still blessed me. She just blessed me to cry flowers instead of speak them, since she said if I was upset enough for tears, that's when I'd actually need flowers to cheer me up. It's a complete nuisance. The flowers are mostly violets and cherry blossom, which thankfully don't prickle, but the petals feel like tissue paper and slugs on my eyeballs, they get absolutely everywhere, and I can't even turn them into a garland or bouquet because they don't have any stems."

"Ugh." Morwen grimaced in sympathy and refilled Rosamund's teacup with the last of her aunt's best company blend that she'd brought with her from home. "That sounds like she was so proud of noticing the problems with the old spell, she didn't bother to make sure her new spell was actually any better."

"Yes, exactly," Rosamund said, and gulped the tea down like water. "That's not the worst part, though. After she cast the flower spell, the fairy said she wouldn't bother trying to make an endless gold spell that wasn't subject to abuse. Instead, she told me that my family already had everything we needed. That sounds nice, right?"

"In a vaguely moralistic and uplifting way," Morwen agreed.

"Very 'be content with your lot and beware the dangers of ambition,' yes," Rosamund said. "But it did sound nice... until we realized it was a spell too, and it was keeping our farm from ever turning a profit."

"How so?"

"If we already had everything we needed, what reason was there for anything to ever change? So nothing does. Everything's frozen the way it was when I met the fairy. We can't clear new fields. We can't rotate crops. We can't even buy a new goat without one of our old goats magically dying for no reason, which means the blessing is actually more of a curse." Rosamund clutched her teacup with white-knuckled fingers and said, so fiercely that Morwen almost expected her eyes to burst into flame, "I came here to learn how to break it. Then I am going to find that fairy, if I have to chase her to the ends of the earth, and I am going to give her a piece of my mind."

"I'll hold her down for you," Morwen promised, and gently pried the teacup from Rosamund's work-roughened hands before it shattered.


Note: Enchanted Forest Chronicles. This one got a little out of hand. Oops? Also, Stokey's Academy is a bit of headcanon I made up when I was giving Morwen backstory for various other fics; it is glancingly mentioned in The Affairs of Dragons and serves as the main setting for A Splash of Color.


29. ) For [livejournal.com profile] lizzie_marie_23: Narnia/Harry Potter, Edmund ~ or / Ginny, hidden corners of the world, written 1/12/17 [AO3 version]

the gate of iron and emerald (375 words)

"This is why you missed the first minute of the battle and left us without our best distance fighter," Edmund said flatly as he continued to inspect his mail shirt for damaged links; "Because you tripped and fell down a hole."

Ginny twirled her wand between her fingers (the way Lucy sometimes spun daggers) and said, in a tone that implied she was attempting forbearance despite great provocation, because despite everything she was fond of him and so forgave his foibles, "Because while I was scouting for ambushes -- it's only chance that the attack came from the west instead of the east, besides which I can't believe you missed a half-dozen giants in land this flat -- I found a locked iron door in an emerald frame in the back wall of this cave, which is so ridiculously out of place that it might as well be screaming it's magical, even without the runes I can't read carved over the lintel, and I was in the middle of testing to see if opening it would be dangerous -- it shouldn't be, by the way, unless you're actually as useless as you act when you're trying to convince people you're young and ignorant, in which case I want a raise since bodyguarding that kind of idiot definitely deserves hazard pay -- but anyway, stop looking at me like I'm a particularly squishable beetle and let's go see what's on the other side."

"I feel that Susan would tell us that interfering with strange magics is a terrible idea, and counsel us instead to both employ caution and remember our mission," Edmund said, pro forma, but this journey to Harfang for truce negotiations had several days' flexibility built in to account for the general disarray of Ettinsmoor after Peter's latest summer war, and he could never live with himself if he turned down a chance to explore one of the hidden corners of the world, thus blatantly presented as both invitation and challenge; and so he motioned his other bodyguard (a grizzled She-Wolf by the name of Skadi) to alert the rest of the party to this turn of events and followed Ginny into the narrow cleft in the earth, to meet what fate awaited them beyond the mysterious door.


Note: A loose sequel to By Its Cover.


30. ) 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

the heart that is soonest awake to the flowers (300 words exactly)

Beauty walked the garden paths beside Lady Falcon-in-Flight's massive form, one hand on her spear (as always, for the spells that bound the castle were fraying with age and sometimes spun off monsters) and the other extended to rest lightly on her lady's shoulder: soft fur layered thickly over hard muscle that could drive a body tirelessly for days on end until a chosen quarry was brought to bay -- now twitching restless and unfulfilled as her lady fought to leash a beast's instinct and appetite into a pale mimicry of human form and function, just as she gifted Beauty with garlands and gold instead of the fragile heart Beauty yearned to cradle in her hands and guard from every wound.

"You should hunt, as your body aches to do," Beauty said, as she had each morning since the new moon; "Bring me back a stag or boar, hard-won with your own strength: for blood on snow suits midwinter better than soft, spell-wrought flowers that seek to make all seasons equally a lie."

Her lady tensed, and Beauty bit her lip in expectation of yet another refusal... but this day her lady sighed (a hot, metallic gust of air, like opening the door to her eldest sister's smithy), turned her great head to fix her golden, slit-pupiled eyes on Beauty's own, and said in her rumbling voice, "If you wish a kill, you may make it yourself, but you are right that this body needs to run; I will be your hound and horse together, if you will be my mistress and guide me with a firm hand lest I lose myself to bloodlust; and perhaps when we return we might search the garden until we find amidst the ice a rose that, like you, has remembered its birthright of thorns."


You know, I think these ficlets could count for [community profile] snowflake_challenge Day 7: create a fanwork, if I wanted to make this post multipurpose.

...I believe I will. :)
edenfalling: headshot of a raccoon, looking left (raccoon)
As always, here is the link to the current ficathon. Come and play! :)


17. ) For [livejournal.com profile] silvr_dagger: Star Trek: AOS, Gaila/Uhura, code, written 12/6/16 [AO3 version]

systems analysis (225 words)

The code Gaila writes is designed to help complicated chunks of metal and ceramic machinery (i.e., starships) meet their design specs in the most efficient ways (i.e., not explode by accident), and the code Nyota writes is designed to help complicated chunks of biological machinery (i.e., people) talk to each other so they don't explode their own starships by accident either (and only explode other people's starships as an absolute last resort); which is to say, there's a certain amount of overlap despite most people's apparent confusion at hearing an engineer and a linguist swap technical advice along with innuendo and bilingual puns over lunch.

But this isn't what Gaila says when classmates ask her, in vaguely pitying tones, whether it's hard living with someone whose specialty is such a soft and fuzzy branch of science it might as well be in the humanities (which isn't even true, but engineers can be awfully blinkered, Gaila's learned). Instead, she just smiles and says, "Every person is like a new code problem, and I like hacking -- I'll try hacking you if you have a few hours to spare, and I bet even a brute-force attack on your firewalls will be pretty fun for both of us! -- but Nyota tells me her own variables and commands without forcing me to guess, and that's worth a lot."


18. ) For [livejournal.com profile] reeby10: Any, any, for the glory, written 12/6/16

the ethics of duty (150 words)

"For the glory of Calormen, the glory of Tash!" Rabadash cries as he wheels around to face the unexpected reinforcements now pouring over the ridge and down into the meadow at Anvard's feet. Ilgamuth opens his mouth to echo the exhortation, but finds his voice caught stillborn in his chest by conscience: however glory may be defined, by the analyses of philosophers or the aphorisms of poets, he is sure this grubby piece of selfishness and revenge meets none of the criteria.

Nonetheless, an oath is an oath unto death, and although the shame of doing naught to stop this folly will weigh on him forever, to stand aside and leave his sworn brothers' backs unguarded would only compound his errors; in order to tally the cost of this day, they must first survive; and so he draws his sword and follows his prince into battle once again.


Note: This snippet may or may not end up in "A Change of Season" whenever I finally get around to writing that story; until then, it can stand alone as a minor gap-filler for HHB, but it has more layers if you read it in conjunction with the rest of my Out of Season series.


19. ) For [livejournal.com profile] runespoor7: Homestuck, Rose Lalonde or Rose/Kanaya, Rose being a huge nerd., written 12/6/16 [AO3 version]

truly an eloquent turn of phrase (225 words)

"I had a dozen sets of these when I was twelve," Rose says as she busily arranges magnetic words on the refrigerator door, "which I mostly used to write and annotate dreadfully pretentious drivel -- the annotations being a passive-aggressive response to the messages of praise and encouragement my mother used to leave beside my creations -- but I dare say I have a better muse these days; perhaps you'd do me the honor of judging whether my literary endeavors have likewise improved."

"Violets are purple, roses are gay, leaves embrace flowers, let's be a bouquet?" Kanaya reads, her tone hovering somewhere between sarcasm and utter bemusement; "I have an intense suspicion that I'm missing a potentially-mocking cultural reference, though as matespritship proposals go, I admit this is oddly charming, in much the same way that a concussed purrbeast wiggler incites tender pity; how could I possibly refuse?"

Rose presses a hand to her forehead and fakes a swoon into Kanaya's arms; "My goodness, darling, don't say such romantic things or I might be quite overcome with passion -- flowers are delicate, you know," she gets out in her most overwrought fake British accent before she can't keep a lid on her giggles any longer and tugs her girlfriend (or fiancée? Kanaya might have been joking, but Rose finds herself surprisingly taken with that idea) down to cuddle on their kitchen floor.


20. ) For [livejournal.com profile] silvr_dagger: Inception, Mal & or / any, all that we see or seem, written 12/7/16 [AO3 version]

and, in parting from you now (200 words exactly)

"Hello, Mal," a voice says as she dies, and suddenly the pain is... not gone, precisely, but held aside for a moment, long enough for a conversation and a choice: to move on to wherever souls go when their mortal bodies shatter, or to step sideways and serve as consultant and artist for a world she's seen flickering at the edges of her own, magic curled warily around newfangled science, irrationality woven for its own sake according to its own rules.

Dom still lives; she sees him screaming silently down from the hotel window, eyes wild and hand outstretched as if he could reel back time with only his fingers and his fear; he will eat his own heart with guilt and grief.

"You will play the role that is given to you," the Dream King warns, "and it may not be as his protector," but the choice is no choice at all, and he pays her the respect of assuming she knows her own mind and hushes the raven at his shoulder when it opens its beak to attempt dissuasion; and so Mal takes her new lord's colorless hand and gives the whole of herself over to dreams forever.


21. ) For [livejournal.com profile] silvr_dagger: Inception/Sandman crossover, Ariadne & Morpheus or Daniel, forgive us our trespasses, written 12/7/16 [AO3 version]

for thine is the kingdom (300 words exactly)

"Do you mind that we grab pieces of your realm and twist them around for mercenary purposes?" Ariadne asks as she and the pale stranger sit on the tattered, rose-gold edge of a cloud and watch a flock of bats with paint rollers slap a Van Gogh sunset across the scaffolded sky; "I mean, we love your world -- I've never met anyone in dreamwork who wasn't at least halfway addicted to creating a dozen new impossible things on each new job, no matter how down-to-earth they try to present themselves -- but even so, it seems rude and I'm sorry that I can't honestly promise I'd stop if you asked."

"You tell stories, which are always and ever their own justification," the pale stranger says; "I will make the same bargain with you that I have made with all those in your trade: so long as you bring no dreams physically into the waking world--" ("I don't think the PASIV works that way," Ariadne says) "--or humans physically into my realm--" ("I really don't think the PASIV works that way," Ariadne says, before adding, sotto voce, "more's the pity") "--then I have no immediate quarrel with you, and will inform you before taking hostile action should you ever infringe on the natural operation of my realm and the minds temporarily under my care; do you accept those terms?"

"I do, and thank you, your majesty," Ariadne says, and as the dream world fades around her, washed away by the warmth of morning light across her pillow, the scent of Yusuf frying eggs in the kitchen, and the sound of Arthur and Eames arguing cheerfully over their next job options, she hopes her training will let her remember more than a melancholy smile and a fading sense of absolution when she wakes.


22. ) For [livejournal.com profile] runespoor7: Naruto, Naruto/Sasuke/Sakura, I think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love. We are good people and we've suffered enough, written 12/8/16 [AO3 version]

a soft epilogue (200 words exactly)

Naruto and Sasuke grab Sakura before she completely exhausts her chakra, and whisk her away to... she's not sure where, really, just that it's warm and clean and has the most comfortable bed she's ever encountered in her life (though that may be mostly the exhaustion talking -- or the two bodies wrapped around her like living blankets).

"We should set an alarm for--" she starts to say through a jaw-cracking yawn, but can't make herself finish the thought; there are a thousand and one things still to do now that the world hasn't ended after all, and on any other day she'd ration out the minimum amount of sleep before diving right back in to work, but right now all she wants is to stay here forever with the people she loves and trusts most in the entire universe -- and who love and trust her in return.

"Never mind, go back to sleep," Sakura manages in response to Naruto's questioning noise and Sasuke's vague grope toward whatever weapon he has hidden under his pillow, and lets herself sink into the whirlpool of dreams, safe in the certainty that finally, finally, they've reached a chance to build a kinder life, together.


More in a few days, probably. :)
edenfalling: headshot of a raccoon, looking left (raccoon)
As always, here is the link to the current ficathon. Come and play! :)


11. ) For [livejournal.com profile] celeste9: X-Men comics, Emma/Scott, rough edges, written 12/2/16 [AO3 version]

at the broken places (150 words)

Emma's jagged edges don't quite match up to Scott's own wounds; what shattered her, he might have survived with fewer scars, and the blows that tore him to shreds over the years might have found less purchase in her mind and heart. Some days he hates the way they miss each other's more idiosyncratic tripwires and scrape each other raw, the way he lost the ability to just be with a lover somewhere between Apocalypse and Jean's last death and therefore can't help Emma learn that alchemy of warmth and grace.

Other days, he thinks maybe they're stronger because of those flaws; you get back from a relationship what you put in, after all, and if he and Emma haven't yet learned comfort, they haven't learned complacency either, and Scott will trade almost anything up to his soul (...and maybe even that) to keep from losing another person he loves.


12. ) For [livejournal.com profile] celeste9: BtVS, Buffy/Faith, liberated, written 12/2/16 [AO3 version]

won't take this lying down (175 words)

"Y'know, B, the nineteenth century's not your best look," Faith said, interrupting Buffy's sulk over the news that Spike had come back to life and neither he nor Angel had seen fit to pass on news of this development; "Say it with me: 'I'm a liberated modern woman and I don't need no fuckin' man.'"

Buffy rolled her eyes and shot back, "Yes, Faith, I am in fact aware that it's the twenty-first century, and it's not like I was even holding out for--" only to squeak in shock as Faith leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Buffy's mouth (with tongue! uninvited! ...but pretty smooth actually) until Buffy's body gave up waiting for input from her brain and started to respond enthusiastically on its own.

Then Faith pulled back (the cheater, not finishing what she started), murmured, "I didn't say you might not need a fuckin' woman, though; look me up once you reboot," and sauntered off like she hadn't just upended Buffy's self-image and reframed years of their prior interactions.

Oh, this meant war.


13. ) For [livejournal.com profile] iawenbemerry: X-Men (preferably movieverse but doesn't have to be), Scott/Jean, the moments no one else sees, written 12/2/16 [AO3 version]

the golden age of the barefoot time (275 words)

Scott and Jean have a standing monthly weekend date -- sometimes adjusted on account of crises, but always kept -- where they leave the mansion for a full twenty-four hours, disappearing from one evening to the next.

The general consensus among the students is that they go out for a fancy dinner, and maybe sex (opinions are split between super vanilla and super kinky) in a swanky hotel down in the city where they can be sure no mutant senses (noses, ears, brains) will disturb their privacy; a few hold out for more cerebral things like visits to museums and other cultural interest spots (on the theory that thinking of teachers and sex in the same sentence is gross and also, seriously, Scott and Jean are just that boring); and one or two have even suggested that the Professor lends out two of his best and brightest to the CIA on timeshare in order to keep the school under the rest of the government's radar.

Jean takes great delight in recounting these theories to Scott, who then takes equal delight in planting new rumors, both of them secure in the knowledge that nobody will ever guess they use their jealously guarded days of freedom to beat each other over the head with feather pillows, eat dessert for dinner and then again for breakfast, rent all the children's movies they never got to see, spend hours petting cats at animal shelters, and generally indulge in the idyllic, archetypal childhoods that they both lost too soon, and which they will give their lives to make sure their own students can hold on to as long as they possibly can.


14. ) For [livejournal.com profile] silvr_dagger: Narnia, Jadis/Susan, pomegranates, written 12/4/16 [AO3 version]

the iron queens (350 words)

A light kindled, impossibly, in the eternal cold and dark of Narnia after the end, and the tattered remnants of she who had once been Jadis (for no witch ever truly dies, especially not one who has tasted the apple of immortality, and the Lion had known this when he shut the stable door) drifted toward the blue-white fire, compelled by the circle and the ancient rite she herself had carved into the flesh of this world at its birth; "You," she snarled as she coalesced, and saw the shape of her summoner.

"Me," agreed Susan Pevensie, who had dared to steal Jadis's throne and think herself a queen, standing untouched by the killing cold despite the sheerness of her silk dress; "I have come under my own power and in my own name, not that of the Lion, to offer you a chance at redemption -- for those who turn away from warmth and light need not be cast forever into darkness, nor do I think love of the Lion a necessity to love of life or the ability to be and do good in the world -- and therefore I have brought a taste of summer to break the walls of this your prison and offer you a thread you may grasp to follow me back into the myriad worlds," she said, and her hands, when she held them out across the bounds of her protective circle, were filled with a red like blood, or rubies, but this fruit was no apple with its all-or-nothing absolutes: a pomegranate, rather, which spoke of bargains and balance, a personal interest on the part of the one who offered to the one who ate, and perhaps even the chance at a throne shared rather than claimed by force and held armed against all comers; Jadis had dreamed of such impossibilities once.

The juice of the apple had been bitter as gall and cool as the first snow of winter; this, bursting slow and rich across Jadis's tongue, solidifying her body with its memory of summer sun and flower-laden winds, was sweet.


15. ) For anonymous: Inception, Arthur/Ariadne, stargazing, written 12/5/16 [AO3 version]

written on the arched sky (275 words)

Their latest job involved a maze in a planetarium ("Why a planetarium?" Ariadne had asked, to which Eames had smiled annoyingly and said, "A memory of first loves fumbling illicitly in the dark, sweetheart, makes an excellent atmosphere for digging out any current sexual indiscretions -- and don't ask me how I know the mark brought her boy here while she was meant to be running the projector; a man needs a few secrets, after all.") and Arthur had insisted on being the dreamer once he'd heard the rough draft of Eames and Ariadne's extraction plan.

When she slipped into the dream maze to see if it needed any last minute adjustments and saw the star projections Arthur had imagined, which he was sliding smoothly around the domed projection field as a narrator explained the reason different stars were visible in different seasons or at different latitudes, Ariadne realized why; "I could never hold all that steady enough to convince somebody who knows what it ought to look like; how are you managing?" she asked as she wrapped her arms around his waist; "Are there some illicit planetarium escapades in your past that I should know about?"

Arthur tugged her around until they were face to face, the glow of the projector striking gleams from his hair and casting his face in an otherworldly light, and said, halfway between wry and anticipatory, "It's possible there might have been, but let me make a suggestion: we have a subjective half hour before the dose runs out; instead of making me relive my embarrassing youth, wouldn't you rather try topping the memory?"


16. ) For [livejournal.com profile] mermaids_feet: Homestuck, Any, Frogs, written 12/5/16 [AO3 version]

questionably intelligent design (150 words)

"You know," Jade said with a slightly distracted air as they watched Bilious Slick junior arrow toward its destiny, "I'm still not sure why it's frogs all the way down; I mean, yeah, they lay a lot of eggs and there's the metamorphosis symbolism, and they look very pretty in those big globes with the lily pads, but there must be better animals from a self-defense and general toughness standpoint, not to mention ones that take a more active interest in raising their young, which you'd think might be relevant from a universe-propagation standpoint -- and you don't even have to sacrifice the 'lays lots of eggs' factor very much to get those benefits."

"I confess zoology of the non-cryptid type was never my strong point," Rose said, "but you sound like you have a specific alternate animal in mind; why not enlighten us as to its name?"

"Well, I was thinking maybe alligators."


More to follow at some point, probably. :)
edenfalling: headshot of a raccoon, looking left (raccoon)
I have been playing a little over at [livejournal.com profile] caramelsilver's Three Sentence Ficathon. Come join in! The more people making and filling prompts, the more fun it is for everyone!

Anyway, here are the six fills I have written so far.


1. ) For [livejournal.com profile] idhren24: Harry Potter, Madame Pince, user-centered institution, written 11/29/15 [AO3 version]

gentility is relative (150 words)

Her library serves two mutually incompatible purposes: to provide appropriate instructional aid for underage wizards, and to hold the most complete repository of magical knowledge in northwestern Europe. Irma has petitioned for decades to split the collection -- or at the very least, move the restricted section into a separate room where she can establish security protocols with proper teeth -- but those two purposes are written into the school charter and would need a unanimous vote from the Board of Governors to make the most minor official alterations, and Dumbledore won't circumvent them on this issue.

Perhaps the next Headmaster will be more open to the notion that the Founders never anticipated the effects of so many magical books confined in such close proximity. Until then, Irma does what she can to protect her books from her students, and vice versa.

She has managed thirteen years since the last accidental death.


2. ) For [livejournal.com profile] killing_kurare: Labyrinth, Jareth/Sarah, He returns at night, written 11/29/15 [AO3 version]

good night till it be morrow (150 words)

The air feels different in the mornings after Jareth visits: a crisp, green sensation, like wind blowing over leaves and stone and icy water, regardless of the actual weather. Sarah rolls sideways on her bed at dawn and buries her face in a pillow that bears a faint and fading trace of ozone and feathers; that scent and the touch of the Labyrinth in the air are the only signs that anyone had come to visit, let alone shared wine and kisses and slept beside her, and for an aching moment she wishes...

But then she sighs, and shuffles through her shoebox apartment in search of coffee and her laptop, and submerges herself back into mundane life rather than resent his absence; she has her responsibilities and deadlines as Jareth has his own, and neither wants to risk their hard-won peace by dragging its terms into the light of day.


3. ) For [livejournal.com profile] runespoor7: Naruto, Sasuke/Sakura or Naruto/Sasuke/Sakura or Sakura gen, you've always been a/ good girl, smart girl, pretty girl, lucky girl, written 12/1/15 [AO3 version]

life lessons (200 words exactly)

Be good, be smart, be pretty, be lucky: a kunoichi's instruction manual.

Sakura can manage smart in her sleep, though likely not the way the advice is meant; knowing precisely how to take apart the human body (and stitch it back together) is not the clever, subtle manipulation of social strings that girls are guided toward mastering. She'll never think of herself as pretty, but she's learned not to blush and demur when Sasuke and Naruto call her that; if they see a part of herself that she can't find, she's willing to trust their judgment as she knows they trust hers when it comes to their own hidden sides. Goodness is a matter of perspective and circumstance, and she knows perfectly well her moral compass swings more toward retribution and the cold dictates of stop-loss logic than she likes to let show; skill, though, has never been a problem, so by that interpretation she's three for three.

As for luck? She's lived through ten lifetimes of misfortune, but she won through. She has Naruto and Sasuke back, to guard her as she guards them in turn. Let the whole world turn against them; they can make their own fate.


4. ) For [livejournal.com profile] celeste9: Mad Max: Fury Road, Max/Furiosa, small comforts, written 12/1/15 [AO3 version]

reciprocity (100 words exactly)

Furiosa wakes fast and cold, stretches out the inevitable aches and strains from sleeping upright in the Rig's cab, and frowns when she finds less pain than she expected. Something soft and heavy slithers down the back of the seat, lands on the gearshift with a muffled thump: the Fool's jacket, the one he reclaimed with such vehemence from the war boy, folded into a makeshift pillow for her while she slept.

She glances over at the driver's seat, sees the furrowed line between his tired eyes, and gives the man the returned comfort of not mentioning his small kindness.


5. ) For [livejournal.com profile] killing_kurare: Sailor Moon, Haruka/Michiru, dinner, written 12/1/15 [AO3 version]

at the stroke of midnight (150 words)

Part of being a professional musician on Michiru's level is maintaining contact with the right parts of society: the ones who pay for tickets and donations to keep orchestras and concert halls in the black. Haruka hated the artificiality of it all at first; hated biting her tongue while Michiru gently and politely redirected insulting conversational threads into equally offensive but more financially productive directions; hated the improbable clothes, the uncomfortable shoes, and the score or clashing perfumes; hated the way even the food at charity dinners and fancy restaurants seemed to ooze self-satisfied superiority.

She still hates all those things, but she's learned to let her anger go and wait for the moment Michiru meets her eyes and nods, and they slip away, laughing, to mount Haruka's motorcycle and roar off through the night: two princesses turned back into ordinary women in search of cheap, greasy takeout and the lived-in comfort of their own home.


6. ) For anonymous: Inception, Arthur/Ariadne, they love it when it rains, because they can share an umbrella, written 12/1/15 [AO3 version]

like silence, but not empty (125 words)

"I designed a happy childhood memory," Ariadne said, staring up at the sodden sky of their latest mark's subconscious with a disgruntled expression. "What's happy about rain?"

Arthur checked his watch -- nearly thirty minutes before they needed to meet Eames outside the mark's hometown library; he could spare a handful for indulgence -- and retrieved a previously non-existent umbrella from his satchel. He shook it open, then wrapped his arm around Ariadne's shoulder and leaned in for a kiss when she joined him under its shelter. "I can think of a few things," he said as the rain fell in a curtain of silver streaks and white noise around the umbrella's rim, closing them into a tiny private world where only they were real.

Ariadne smiled.


(Yes, I am aware that only three of these are actually three-sentence ficlets. Shush. I do what I want.)
edenfalling: stylized black-and-white line art of a sunset over water (Default)
I am bored and attempting to stay awake. I am also, alas, out of inspiration for all my WIPs. So am I asking for prompts!

Give me a character or ship PLUS a scenario | setting | mood | line of dialogue, and I will try to write you a three sentence ficlet.

ETA: Prompts are closed! Thank you to everyone who contributed. :-)


1 ) lost in translation: 50 words, Dave/Jade, lost in translation. For [tumblr.com profile] missgvc (Tumblr link; AO3 version)

2 ) picnic at 20,000 feet: 125 words, Rose/Sollux, on a plane. For [tumblr.com profile] bramblemouth (Tumblr link; AO3 version)

3 ) Poor Communication: 250 words, Miles Vorkosigan & the Faceless Old Woman Who Lives in Your House, "He would have told her if she'd asked." For [livejournal.com profile] sablin27 (Tumblr link; AO3 version)

4 ) A Likely Story: 275 words, Ayakawa Yukiko being amused at the antics of Naruto and Sasuke (who are temporarily allied because they're conspiring together about something). For [livejournal.com profile] wistfulmemory (Tumblr link; AO3 version)

5 ) High Wire: 425 words, Natasha Romanova (Avengers) & Parker (Leverage) - "That is not happening." For [livejournal.com profile] sablin27 (Tumblr link; AO3 version)

6 ) Inconvenient Truths: 200 words, Arthur Pendragon & Susan Pevensie, diplomatic immunity. For [personal profile] rthstewart (Tumblr link; AO3 version)

7 ) The Taste of Madeleines: 350 words, Luna Lovegood, Wrackspurts and brain farts. For [personal profile] rthstewart (Tumblr link; AO3 version)

8 ) Perchance To Dream: 350 words, Ariadne & Arthur, favorite books. For [livejournal.com profile] hungrytiger11 (Tumblr link; AO3 version)

9 ) Going Native: 150 words, Giles, no eating or drinking in the library. For [personal profile] rthstewart (Tumblr link; AO3 version)

10 ) The Test of Good Manners: 425 words, Amanda and Sarek, a moment of perfect understanding. For [livejournal.com profile] rosaxx50 (Tumblr link; AO3 version)

11 ) This Is Not an After-Action Review: 375 words, Natasha Romanova & Parker, Stark's reaction to their awesomeness. Tiny sequel to High Wire. For [livejournal.com profile] wistfulmemory (Tumblr link; AO3 version)

12 ) Rattle the Cage: 800 words, Gaila/Natasha Romanoff (Trek/MCU), undercover. For [tumblr.com profile] geiszlerandgaila (Tumblr link; AO3 version)

13 ) Small Favors: 450 words, Ayakawa Yukiko, Kakashi, and fireworks that aren't the typical festival fireworks. For [livejournal.com profile] wistfulmemory (Tumblr link; AO3 version)

14 ) Hnaflbaflwhiflsnifltafl: 275 words, Edmund Pevensie & Lord Vetinari, comparing the intricacies of governing/spying in Narnia and Ankh Morpork. For [livejournal.com profile] priscipixie (Tumblr link; AO3 version)
edenfalling: headshot of a raccoon, looking left (raccoon)
Summary: Ariadne knows she can build a dream; she folded Paris on top of itself, after all. But translating that first success into a reliable skill is a little trickier than she expected. Ariadne & Arthur friendship. (1,875 words)

Note: This story was written for Cotton Candy Bingo Round One, in response to the prompt: clouds.

[ETA: Now crossposted here on AO3.]

Skies of Summer )


So yeah, that happened. :-)

(Ariadne won the challenge, by the way. Arthur had to make the potato salad from scratch, which was tricky since he only half-remembered his mother's recipe, but it turned out all right in the end.)
edenfalling: headshot of a raccoon, looking left (raccoon)
Summary: Why does a forger need a totem? (100 words exactly)

On Totems )


This is a little thing I wrote ages ago. I don't remember where I intended to go with it, and obviously it never clicked into any kind of larger plot or character study, but it's a complete (albeit tiny) thought as it stands, so whatever, I'm posting it. :-)
edenfalling: headshot of a raccoon, looking left (raccoon)
Summary: In happier times, Arthur babysits for Mal and Dom. (1,050 words)

Notes: This fic is set in the same fusion AU as Weregild, but takes place in September 2006, five years before Arthur meets Ariadne in St. Louis. It's also a response to the Cotton Candy Bingo prompt babysitting.

[ETA: The AO3 crosspost is now up. *grin*]

Beneath Rain on a Strange Roof )

Because backstory and world-building will always be my secret vices. *grin*

(The title quote is from William Faulkner, I think, though I couldn't tell you the exact source. I tend to google random quotes on appropriate topics when I am completely at sea for titles, which is often. That may be another of my secret vices, come to think of it...)
edenfalling: headshot of a raccoon, looking left (raccoon)
The edited version of Weregild: Chapter 3 is now up on AO3! Jean-Claude's dinner parties are often more about politics than dinner; this one is no exception. Arthur and Dom successfully deliver their information, but Anita's suspicion of their motives throws yet another potential wrench in the works. Meanwhile, Ariadne and Arthur continue to flirt something awful despite theoretically knowing better. (9,800 words)


Now I just need to knock off chapter 8 of "Trollstuck" and I can buckle down to finishing "Lemonade" once and for all. *evil laughter*


edenfalling: stylized black-and-white line art of a sunset over water (Default)
Elizabeth Culmer

October 2017

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