elektra rex

Moving.

2017-04-07T10:11:01Z

I suppose this has been a long time coming, but it's official - I'm leaving LJ. By this point, many of my old friends have left the site and I've slowed down my posting. In addition, the new ToS is making me very uneasy. I don't feel comfortable posting here with that hanging over my head.

So I'm moving my things over to DW and I will delete this journal at the end of next week.

It makes me sad to consider leaving and losing all my friends here, and I hope I can find you somewhere else. I can always be found on DW as raxeira and on tumblr as naatsue. If you aren't in any of those places, you can message me here and I will pass along my email.

Thank you all for your kind thoughts and words over the past years. I will miss you all, and I hope we can talk again soon!

Literary Device Bingo

2017-02-14T01:26:28Z

So excited about my new bingo card! I'm looking forward to working my way through it. (I think theemdash gave me all the hard and unusual ones, lol.) I'll include links here when I finish things.

Fiction: "the empty sky above"

2017-02-11T02:45:33Z

the empty sky above
--for interfaceleader's prompt: "She would never go home again." I'm sure it isn't what she wanted, but... that's how these things go, I guess. Hope she likes it anyway!

The traffic has been monstrous, properly. Choked, clogged, congested. There isn’t a word terrible enough to describe the tightness that crawls up and settles into her chest as she sits waiting in the line of cars, red strobing gently against her eyelashes. Her breath catches in her chest and knots tie themselves at the back of her neck, knuckles bleaching to white and shoulders aching as her knees lock and burn with the tension of back and forth, back and forth.

It is just as she thinks, I will never go home again, that her arms make the decision for her and wrench the wheel to the side. The car turns and slides out of the line of cars and down a thin, winding road. It is tight with cars and shadowed by high buildings, so crowded that she knows the speed limit must be low. Nonetheless, she lets her foot press hard and drives fast, turning architecture into blurred lines as the sky above beckons.

Her velocity burgeons as she drives, rocketing away from the feeling of strangulation, toward something she cannot name. The sky shifts, clouds grumbling and opening their furled ends, peeling back to reveal the bright, blue-tinged void. She grins up at it, heart leaping, and is suddenly sure she will never see her home again.

The thought thrills her.

Fiction: "the inescapable sensation of flying just before you hit the ground"

2017-01-29T03:22:16Z

the inescapable sensation of flying just before you hit the ground
--for cookielaura and her lovely prompt of "dying embers" (I feel like I should apologize, because this is a lot stranger than I intended. But it's also completely me, so I won't grovel too much. I also ride the English language and perspective pretty hard in this, so prepare yourself.)

As the last of the embers flicker and die, you feel your bone-china heart break in two. You’ve failed. After all this time and effort, you’ve failed. The demon hasn’t appeared. You snarl and bite your lip, throwing down the knife.

The circle you cut into the wooden floor a week ago is precise and neat. You spent an entire day cutting the sigils, making sure that each and every one was exact. You can’t afford to make a mistake when summoning a demon. The consequences are, you’ve been led to believe, dire.

Sinister circle, sliding round noose tightening, strangling, waking me from sleep, squeezing something from me, smothering me; breeding a strange fixation that steals my insubstance, lending me shape and locking me into it: solidity, foul corporation. Gasp.

Well, it’s all been for nothing. The circle cut into the floor is empty. The air in the abandoned little flat you’ve chosen is clear of darkness and miasma. You lean back and fumble in your little bag, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

Writing, wild and coarse; its lines scratch at me, wrapping round my thoughts with winsome wishes, wrong as long as they it is just right enough. Words rewrite reality and install me in its place, not sigils but invocations, worse than words these are bureaucracy, prayers to the damned crafting bones and blood and barren skin. From nothing, of nothing.

The burn of the ash on your lips is refreshing. It grounds you as you scowl at the ritual bowl that sits in the center of the circle. The little embers inside roll over and flare as they turn to ash. You don’t know what you expected, really, from a ritual you found on a crumpled piece of paper left behind the dumpster behind work. You’d been taking out the trash when you found it – kicked it, really – and had picked it up with the intent of throwing it away. It was the symbols that caught your eye. The description beneath hadn’t been very specific, really (blood of a goat, human tears, etc) but you’d muddled through.

Nice noose this is not, nicking my gnarled breaths and hiding them away, tangled gasps weaving through noxious fumes, crowding thoughts with niceties and tugging at my senses, sight blurring, world hidden behind grey panes of shifting sand, the tang of tar ripping through me, shaking my sudden bones. They straighten me, rigid cages too brittle to shake loose, lifting me up and giving me strength.

And here you are, three weeks later, with nothing to show. No demon. Nothing but smoke threading through your lips and twisting up from the bowl to fill the room.

You dig in your bag and pull out the scrap of paper.

It is much-creased and slightly yellowed, of indeterminate page and composition. Looking at it closely (and you’ve done much of this over the past few weeks), you decide that it must be one of those blank pages found at the beginnings and endings of books, and has been torn out to be used for sketch paper.

Snarled syllables calling me, sharp and piercing, pinning me down in flesh and blood. I fight them but cannot escape, those wild utterings that serve to capture as much as enliven.

You lay it flat on the floor, fag pressed between pursed lips, and compared it to your work. Symbol by symbol, you work through the illustrations, muttering the directions in a half-whisper to yourself. Finally, you shove the paper away with a snarl. You’ve done everything right. Yet there is no demon, and here you are sitting in an abandoned flat with chewed out walls and the distinct scent of mould, with nothing to show for it.

Perhaps this physicality is precious, precocious, perspicacious. Slipping through the edges and into the cracks. Breathing in the space between thoughts.

Waiting.

The fire in the bowl has smoldered out completely, leaving thick smoke that can’t disperse in the closed-up room. You wave it away from and grab the heavy knife you used to carve up the floor. With a jab, you stab it into one of the sigils nearest, then wrench it free. You keep going until the symbols have been effaced and you are panting, cigarette bobbing from your lips. You sit down heavily on your arse, sighing.

Well, that’s it.

Foolishness done.

You’ve mauled the summoning circle well enough that it looks like a series of scratches in the floor. Nothing more. You could try again another time, perhaps. But you’re exhausted. The weight of worry pulls you down.

You gather your things and push them into your bag. The bowl at the center of the room is still hot. Such a little thing, that fire. You toss the end of your fag in and leave.

Shall we?

There is a lightness to your step that hasn’t been there. You’ve failed, but the light of day feels brighter than before as you leave the flat and wedge the door closed behind you. The city streets teem with life; you can hear the distant clamoring, even four stories up.

You go to the edge of the walkway and lean over the edge, breathing sharp, cold air.

What beauty this human world contains.

You hum a tune you halfway recognize under your breath and shudder with the need for flight. The city’s life slides under your skin and draws you forward.

You feel alive, moreso than you have for an age. You blink and a mist clears from your eyes and thoughts. The world is crystalline.

You lift your arms and the wind catches beneath then like wings.

The world needs but a spark to change.

Let us change it together.

You fly.

Fiction: "black water"

2017-01-21T21:53:49Z

black water
--a fairy tale for the prompt "monsters" by wildrose

Once upon a time, the Land was only the Land. It was neither City nor Town, neither Forest nor Field. The Land had no name to shape it to give it limits, but for the River that ran through its center. Where the River flowed, the Land could not rise, and where the Land rose high, the River could not flow. When the first People came to the Land, they climbed hills covered with rich green grasses and walked beneath trees bearing leaves so wide they could have covered a man; they heard the sounds of the animals from dawn till dusk and felt the soft velvet of the damp air on their fingertips; they ate of fruits so dark and sweet they stained the People’s lips and plucked flowers so vibrant in color that they stung the eyes; they walked the hills above the River and called it beautiful, and so it was there that the People decided to live.

They built small houses in the hills and hunted the Land between the trees, but they never went close to the River, for its waters were dark and deep, and when the people ventured near they heard the water whisper, calling for them to come closer.

“Monsters live there,” they whispered to each other. “If you get too close… If you go down to the water’s edge, they will devour you!”

So the people stayed away from the River. They found little streams and pools to drink from and did not mind that they could not go near the River. They told stories in their homes and over their fires about the monsters that lived below them, and they always kept to the high ground.

One day, two sisters were coming home from a hunt. They were as alike as two sisters could be, in that they were both young and loved each other very much. The older sister had hair and skin as black as a moonless night, and the younger had hair and skin the color of the sun at its height. They were both beautiful to look upon, and all the People loved them.

On this day, they had tired themselves hunting a herd of deer that ran as fast as the wind, and though it was the elder sister who carried their kill over her shoulders, it was the younger who slipped and fell, tumbling down the hill and out of sight. The elder sister threw her kill down and ran after her; the River lay below, coiled and waiting, and she knew that the monsters would covet her sister’s bright beauty and devour her whole.

She found her lying at the River’s edge, skirt and boots soaked with black water, mud caked into her hair. The River was quiet and still. With a gasp of relief, she clutched her close to her chest.

“Oh, sister,” the one who had fallen said. “It was the Monster. It pulled me from the water. I was drowning, and it saved me.”

The young woman pulled the mud from her sister’s hair until it shone again and checked her limbs for injuries. She looked out over the River, but saw nothing to show where the Monster had been. She pulled her sister to her feet and a chill ran over her skin. They climbed up and away, to the top of the hill.

There they stopped.

“Oh, sister,” the younger one sighed. “The Monster is lonely. It told me so when it laid me on the riverbank. It looks up from the River toward the hills, and it sees us. It loves us, and it doesn’t like being alone in the dark water. It wants all the People to visit, to drink from the River and play by its side. It promises to keep us safe.”

The young woman looked down at her little sister for a time, and she saw the plea in her eyes. She reached out to take her sister’s hand and they gathered their hunt and returned home.

When they reached their little house, the sisters finished their hunt by skinning the animal they’d killed and giving its heart to the Land. The younger sister rinsed the mud from her skin with water gathered from the stream and unstrung her bow. The elder sister changed her bloody clothes and cleaned the edge of her long, curved blade, oiling it before laying in its place by the fire.

When their hair had been laid in identical plaits, one dark and one light, and the sun cast long shadows across the land, they went to speak to the People.

They visited many houses that night, sitting by welcoming fires and sharing fresh loaves of bread. They told the people about the kindness of the Monster, how the younger sister had been saved. They told the People that the Monster was lonely. It wants visitors, they said, and it promises to keep us safe. It loves us.

The People listened, but when the sisters made to leave, they pulled the elder girl aside and whispered in her ear. “Is what she said true?” they asked. “Did you see the Monster that saved your sister? The one that lives in the River?”

“No,” the elder sister answered, for she had never failed to be honest. “I saw only the black water of the River.”

The People shook their heads. “This Monster is dangerous,” they told each other. “It will not keep us safe. It only wants to eat us. If we go to the River, it will swallow us whole.”

The sisters walked from house to house and hill to hill, carrying the tale of the kind Monster that lived in the River. When night fell they continued to walk, until they had spoken to nearly all of the People. They told their story well, even the elder girl, who did not quite believe. And when the sisters had gone, the People built their fires high and sharpened their weapons and told stories about the Monster.

The next day, they came upon a small house they had never seen before. Though she was footsore and weary, the younger sister marched to the door and knocked upon it. The woman who lived inside was older than anyone they had ever met before, her hair white and curling, and her skin soft with wrinkles. She invited them in and they sat by her fire.

The old woman listened to the sisters just as all the People had, but when they were finished, she did not pull the older one aside. She sat quietly for a moment, and then said:

“Tell me about the Monster, little one.”

Eyes slight, the younger sister spoke rapidly. “It is kind and strong. It lifted me from the River and saved me!”

“Not that,” the old woman said. “You’ve told me that already. What does the Monster look like?”

The younger sister sat for a moment, but could not say. She shook her head, cheeks reddening with a bright flush. Her sister reached out to take her hand.

The old woman nodded. She gave them mulled wine to sip and then sent them away, promising to remember their story. The elder sister could not shake the chill that clung to her as she closed the door behind them.

So the sisters returned to their little house, having visited all the People who lived in the hills. They slept deeply and dreamt little.

When they went to the River to fetch water, the sisters found themselves quiet and alone. When the young sister splashed in the water at the River’s edge, laughing, the elder one stayed back to avoid the mud and muck. She could not bring herself to step near the dark water without something inside her shifting uneasily.

As the days passed, the River remained quiet and the People stayed in their hills.

One night, long after she had fallen down the hill, the younger sister woke from terrible dreams. Tears upon her cheeks and hands shaking, she went to her sister and woke her.

“Oh, sister,” she sobbed. “I dreamt of the Monster. It came to me dripping black water. It was weeping, and the sound of it broke my heart. We must convince the people to visit. They must.”

The elder sister reached up and clasped the younger close until her sobs quieted and she was calm.

“The people fear the Monster,” she told her sister. “They have spent so many years afraid of it, scared to even go close to the River. They will not go. Rest now. We will visit in the morning, as soon as the light falls over the Land. We will bring the Monster the best of the fruits and flowers that grow in the high hills. We will make your it happy.”

Though chilled to the bone, they both fell asleep before dawn.

The next day they went to visit the Monster, but the elder sister saw nothing but black water as her sister played. That night the younger woke again from terrible dreams. She went to her sister and crawled under the blankets with her.

“Oh, sister,” she whispered. “I dreamt of the Monster. It came to me while I was sleeping. Its tears were black and terrible and they chilled my soul. Please, we must visit. It is so lonely. I must—”

The elder sister clutched the younger close, stilling her movements. “We will,” she whispered. “We will visit, and we will make it happy.”

Though the younger sister fell asleep shortly after, the elder could not.

The next day they visited the Monster again, and as the younger sister sat quietly speaking, the elder stared into the still black water of the River and wondered. That night, she did not sleep. She tossed and turned in her little bed, unable to shake the chill that gripped her. When the moon had risen high and the night turned deep, she knew the dreams had come again as she heard her sister weeping in her bed.

This night the younger sister did not come to her elder. The young woman listened for a long time, waiting, until the tears dwindled into silence. Finally, the chill left her bones and she fell into a vast and dark sleep.

The next morning, the young woman woke to find the house quiet. Even the wind that swept over the Land held its breath as she stretched, feeling rested and refreshed. She dressed and went to wake her sister, but to her surprise, her sister’s bed was empty. A chill returned to the young woman’s skin, and she looked for her sister, but could not find her. She went out between the trees and walked across the Land, calling her name as loud as she could, but her sister was not there.

She visited the People in their houses. “Please help me,” she said. “Have you seen my sister? When I woke she was gone, and I cannot find her.”

They pursed their lips and shook their heads, and she kept searching. She walked across the hills and visited as many houses as she could, until the sun sat high in the sky and her dark skin was black and shining with exhaustion.

Weary and footsore, she finally came to the house of the old woman. She knocked on the door and asked, “Please, have you seen my sister? I cannot find her anywhere.”

The old woman thought for a moment and then said, “No. I have not seen your sister. But I may know where she has gone.”

Though the young woman pleaded and wept, the old woman would not tell her what she knew until she had gathered her coat and blade and shut the door behind her.

“Go back to your house,” she told the young woman, “and get your hunting blade. Make sure it is sharp. I will go to the others and gather them. I fear that this Monster has taken your sister.”

Struck as if by a heavy weight, she ran back to her house. Her sister had not returned. She sank down upon her sister’s bed and found that the blankets were damp, slightly sodden as if they’d been pulled from the water not long before. The young woman felt that surely her heart had frozen.

She took her blade from beside the cold fire and sharpened it. Then she went to the People who lived nearest and begged to be admitted.

“The Monster has taken my sister,” she told them. “It has taken her to the River because it is lonely, and I am afraid I will never get her back.”

The people smiled, for they had been ready all along, and took out their sharpened blades and lit their torches, and they followed the young woman down to the River. There they met the old woman, who had gathered a group of her own. The sun hung low in the sky and cast long shadows over the Land. The River caught the light from their red torches and cast it back at them, setting the World aglow.

The young woman crept close to the black water, far closer than she’d ever gone before. She kept her long blade held before her.

“Monster!” she called. “Return my sister to me!”

There was no response beside the quiet lapping of the River.

“Monster!” she edged closer. “You came to my sister, now come to me and return her!”

Her blade flashed in the light of the torches. The River was silent.

“There!” the old woman cried, pointing. “I see it! The Monster is there!”

A deep shadow sat beside the River, low and terrible.

The young woman gasped. “Return my sister!” she cried again, and dove forward, swinging her blade. It ripped through the shadow clean and true, not catching for an instant on anything at all. The People surged beside her, thrusting torches and blades forward, and the light from their rush burned away the shadow and left only clarity.

The young woman saw, to her horror, that her sister stood before her. Perhaps the mud that clung to her dress had concealed her presence, or the Monster had cast a spell upon her to hide her, as she appeared without warning from the shadow. Her hair shone with the brilliance of the moon, though it had not yet risen, and her lips stretched in a small smile. Her skin had been rent by several deep gashes, and as the young woman watched in horror, they began to weep dark blood.

The young woman dropped her blade. The River swallowed it as she moved forward and caught her younger sister as she fell. Her blood was hot against the young woman’s skin, and her eyes did not focus.

“Oh, sister,” the younger woman said, her voice a bare, stripped whisper. The people stood all around them, their torches throwing light across the pair. “I dreamt of the Monster. It came to me in the night, weeping black tears. I visited it, and it told me that soon it would not be lonely any more. I’m very glad.” Her voice cracked on the last words, and she breathed her last.

The young woman held her sister close as mud seeped through her dress. A chill crept over her skin and she flinched as the old woman fell to her knees beside them. She reached out with a trembling hand and closed the pale, staring eyes of the girl.

Drawing in a wrenching breath, the elder sister (now, the only sister) said, “The Monster. It killed my sister. I must—”

The old woman shook her head. “No. Leave the Monster be. It has what it wanted, and it will not be lonely anymore. Do not give it your life as well.” The old woman looked into the young woman’s eyes, and saw that within their darkness burned a fierce light. “We are safe from the Monster now.” She curled her fingers around the young woman’s hand and drew her up.

The younger sister’s body fell to the ground and the People came forward, gathering around the young woman and helping her climb the hill as they left.

When they were nearly at the top, she wrenched away and turned back, staring down toward the River in the gloaming light.

Her sister’s pale body had vanished, swallowed by the black water that rushed and tumbled, murmuring below and sending its whispers drifting through the hills until they came to her and slipped into her ears, soothing and terrible.

She felt the chill that had clung to her for days reach deep inside. It laid itself to rest in her heart, and she could not shake it.

three six five

2017-01-02T02:07:38Z

the year-long post of 2017

SCRAPBOOK

★★★★★ - transcendent | ★★★★ - brilliant | ★★★ - exciting |
★★ - promising | ★ - solid

books
i am reading...
Alexander Hamilton by Ron Chernow | (in progress)
Swordspoint by Ellen Kushner | ★★★★

movies
i saw...
Rogue One | ★★★★
Alice Through the Looking Glass | (no stars, incoherent)
Lion | ★★★★
Star Trek Beyond | (no stars, boring and trite)

television
i am watching...
A Series of Unfortunate Events, season 1 | ★★★★
Black Sails, season 1 | (unfinished, didn't quite grab me)
Supergirl, season 1 | ★ (terrible plotting and villains, good emotional arcs/characters)
The Man in the High Castle, season 1 | (in progress)
The Fall, series 1-3 | ★★★★

music
i am listening to...

stories
i am writing...
"The Ravine" (novella) | revised/submitted Tor.com (1/11)
Various prompts | in progress
"The Night God" (book 1) | revising in progress

☆

GOALS
goals with an ampersand are continued from last year. goals with a star are new.

strive for balance
&keep a consistent and regular yoga practice (twice a week or more)
☆practice meditation
&exercise more creatively, and just more
&spend more time with friends (at least twice a month)
☆spend time alone each day, without expectation or pressure to accomplish anything
☆give back (donate money when possible and find ways to volunteer locally)
☆read more books in a variety of genres
☆recognize your own accomplishments

become an author
&write every day
&FINISH a novel
☆get 20 rejection letters
~so far: 2/20
Apex Magazine rejected "Magnolias" - 1/12
Liminal Magazine rejected "Magnolias" - 1/16

☆ask yourself, "Why Not?"

The Year in Review.

2016-12-27T01:05:14Z

I'm looking back on 2016, and feeling a bit surprised! So much has happened! I had a job, lost it, and got a new one. I moved out of my parents' house and into my own apartment. I wrote a complete draft of a novel and revised it. It hasn't been everything that I expected, or everything I wanted, but it's been good. At the beginning of the year I set some goals for myself, which I wanted to look back on as this year comes to an end.

GOALS
(reflections)

be kinder to yourself
&keep a consistent and regular yoga practice (twice a week)
&commit to vegetarianism
&allow yourself to take mental health days
&spend time with friends (at least twice a month)
&exercise more creatively, and just more
&get your own place to live (and be okay with imperfection)

(Looking back on 2016, I think I have been kinder to myself. For about 6 months of this year, I kept a consistent yoga practice of 2x a week. I tried to take up running, and was only partly successful. I committed much more to vegetarianism, and I learned to take work much less seriously. I was honest with my friends about how they'd hurt my feelings. I lost some close friends and deepened a few friendships. I moved out of my mother's house and set up my own apartment. I started seeing a therapist.

Overall, the most positive changes this year came halfway through, after I lost my job in June - I started going to therapy, and I moved into my own place. Both of these changes have allowed me to start to see myself more clearly as a complete person, with foibles and strengths. I've started to be a bit kinder to myself and others, and I feel very positively about the place I'm in right now.)

##

be a better friend
&use social media more (post 2x/week, comment 3x/week, abstain 1x/week)
&spend more time with friends (at least twice a month)
&go out with strangers (once or twice)

(2016 was a challenging year for me, socially. I completely failed my social media promises, managing to be on certain networks more than I wanted (facebook), and others far less than I wanted (livejournal). I tried instagram again, and found that it bored me. I fell half in love with twitter. I didn't open any other accounts of note. As I mentioned above, I was honest with my rl friends, which meant that I lost some old ones. I do feel like I've cultivated a much stronger relationship with one or two of them, and that's made all the stress of honesty worth it. I tried online dating, and didn't enjoy it. I didn't meet very many new people.

I'm not entirely happy with the progress I made in 2016 in relationships. I do think that, on the positive side, I deepened some old friendships and weeded out some of the less positive relationships in my life. But I didn't reach out to make many new friendships, and that's something that I want to work on in the future.)

##

become an author
&get paid for something you've written
&develop a writing routine (every day)
&FINISH a novel</small>

(Yes and no. I solidified a routine of writing every day, enough so that it feels strange to go without writing anymore. I did finish the rough draft of a novel. I was not, however, published in any way, shape, or form, and I was certainly not paid.

I feel that the quality of my writing has improved a bit over the last year, and I've been slowly growing more insightful about the characters I'm writing. This is exciting, and proves that all my work hasn't been for nothing.

Overall, I just need to keep working at it.)

##

On to the next year!!!

Apace.

2016-11-15T01:14:18Z

While the world slowly unravels, like the edge of that old sweater that you have worn so many times it is given up entirely, life continues.

I went to work on Thursday and Friday at my second job, which is teaching art. It was exhausting, but enjoyable. I found myself thinking that it was good that I was busy so that I didn't have to dwell on the madness that has been consuming us all.

There have been racist attacks across the country. I am a white woman living in a relatively wealthy, mostly rural region of the northeast. By all reasonable standards, I am safe. I think it would be very easy for me to forget the danger that others are in, just because my days are still very normal.

I've kept writing and going to work. I have been reading really thoughtful articles from the NYT and watching some excellent pundits (including excellent segments from Samantha Bee and John Oliver) to make sense of it all. I had friends over on Saturday and we all drank too much and sobbed (in our very special, white liberal way) a bit at the thought of what the next few years will bring.

I've been trying to gather ways to be involved and support worthy organizations,and have decided that just buying shirts and bumper stickers and wearing pinsmay not be the best way to go about it. So I've donated to the ACLU (advocating for the development and support of civil rights for all) and have gathered some more links for organizations that I want to support. I don't have enough money to donate very much now, but I plan to do so as soon as I'm able. Here are some of the organizations I've heard of and been looking into:

ProPublica- Nonprofit, investigative journalism.
NPR - Diverse, investigative, and varied public radio programs for every part of the country.
Center for Reproductive Rights - Advocates for and supports legislation for reproductive freedom.
Planned Parenthood - Sexual education, healthcare, and awareness.
National Organization for Women (NOW) - Advocating feminism and women's rights in the US.
Association for Women's Rights in Development - International organization advocating for equal rights and opportunities for women.
The Trevor Project - Crisis intervention and suicide prevention for LGBTQ+ adolescents.
National Resource Defense Council- Advocates for the preservation of natural resources across the world.
NAACP Legal Defense and Education Fund- The legal arm of the NAACP.
International Refugee Assistance Project - Organization that brings together lawyers to support and develop human rights for refugees.
Mexican American Legal Defense and Education Fund- Civil rights organization supporting Latino Americans.

That's all I have. If you can donate to support, please do. And if you know of any other organizations I should keep in mind, please let me know about them so that I can add to my list.

This puts my in mind of that sweater. The one you love, that you've worn half to death. We've all (or at least I have) had this perception of the world as generally good. America may not be perfect, I thought, but it's headed for good things. I always believed that our country was broken but healing. That warm sweater of denial was very comfortable, I've found,and this election hasn't so much unravelled an edge as snipped open some gaping holes. I can't deny it any longer - the world around us isn't headed for good things. It's devouring itself through greed and selfishness; people ignoring the vulnerable and pushing down the weak to get what they want. The worst thing is that we are all capable of this in little ways, simply because of how society is set up. I keep reminding myself that I am part of the problem, and I have to work to change that.

I'm not despairing, though. I think we can yank society back toward the path of kindness and respect. But it's going to be one hell of a fight,and I don't think it will be pretty. It will require humility and patience, none of which I have in great supply.

I'm working on it.

Dear Yuletide

2016-10-02T01:39:51Z

Dear Yuletide Author,

Thank you! You are an amazing person for writing something for me, and I'm so excited to read whatever you create. All you need to know about me is that I love nuanced characters, outrageous and complex plots, and reversals of fate. I adore antiheroes and villains, and I always love digging into the worldbuilding of myths and legends.

I will be more specific below, but whatever you do, happy writing!

American Gods

The thing that I love most about American Gods is the stark reality of the setting and mythology, how the characters show us the best and worse parts of humanity, and how actual plotting is intricate and inevitable. The ending isn’t ‘destiny’, but neither can it be avoided. I love how the gods has taken on the guise of humans in this, but it’s as thin as tissue paper, held together by human belief only.

I would love to see a story that dives back into this mythology, with detailed plotting and the inevitability of fate, too. A story that spins off the novel would be best. Take an unfinished moment from the novel and bring it to a thoughtful conclusion, and I will be thrilled.

I suggested the characters of Loki, Odin, and Shadow because I love them (especially Loki), but you don’t have to use them. I’m not interested in a story with romance, but something that touches upon the power of myths in modern life and how we can’t escape them. I have no particular squicks except character bashing. I love my characters to be rich and nuanced, and for even the bad ones to be layered enough that I can love them.

I love ‘road trip’ stories and space operas and Westerns, bleak landscapes and isolations. Enemies to lovers is absolutely my favorite trope, and a slow building of romance and plot is the best way to my heart.

~

A Court of Thorns and Roses

I read the first two books of this series earlier this year, and the fact that they are unfinished has been driving me mad. What I love about these stories was the dark take they took on the original tales, bringing the romance of fairytales to a much darker place. But above all, I am in love with the way the first book mimicked Beauty and the Beast (complete with dubious morality and treatment of women), and how the second book turned that on its head by retelling Hades and Persephone as a romance. The first book worried me, but the second was delightful. It emphasizes strong women and self-determination of fate, and has a delicious ‘dark’ Lord that I love to ogle.

I would love to see a story the gives me a window into the upcoming third book in the series. I want to see Feyre being amazing and doing fantastic things. I wouldn’t mind a steamy sex scene with Rhys, but I’m definitely looking for more than PWP. I want to see Tamlin get what he deserves, but since that might be a novel, don’t feel pushed to include that.

I don’t have any particular squicks except character bashing. Even though I hate Tamlin, I would like to see him portrayed with nuance if you choose to include him at all. What would thrill me beyond belief would be if you included a third myth/fairytale in your story, and subverted it a bit like SJM does. While she chose myths along similar lines (Beauty and the Beast and Hades/Persephone both include unlikely romance, enemies to lovers), I would be up for you to use any kind of Greek or Norse mythology, or Russian fairytales as the pattern for your own story.

I love ‘road trip’ stories and space operas and Westerns, bleak landscapes and isolations. Enemies to lovers is absolutely my favorite trope, and a slow building of romance and plot is the best way to my heart.

~

Jane Eyre

Something about Jane Eyre has always lingered with me, from the stark imagery of the scenery to the desperation of the romance. It doesn’t hurt that it’s very much a version of Beauty and the Beast, one of my favorite tales. I’ve also read and loved Wide Sargasso Sea, for the way it sucked me in and filled with its humid and beautiful heat. I could wax rapturous for days.

What I’m looking for is a story that brings me back into that dense, hypnotic world of both stories. I would love to see something female-centric, focused on Bertha and Jane. I’m open to femme-slash, but I don’t want PWP. I mostly want something atmospheric and beautiful, with a tinge of a ghost story.

~

Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell

I request this every year. I love to return to the intricate and layered story of English magic and its reclamation. I love Clarke’s style and the way it is both pastiche and quite touching. I also love the characters – all of them – from the horrible ones like the Gentleman with the Thistledown Hair, to the best like Jonathan Strange. And my most favorite of all is John Uskglass, the Raven King.

I want a story that draws me back into the fairy tale that Clarke built, with magic and rich characters. I am open to you using old characters or creating new ones. You can stay within the bounds of the original stories or write a new one. I’m not terrible interested in romance or PWP, but I would love to see Clarke’s world explored further, especially with regard to the history of magic. I love ‘road trip’ stories and space operas and Westerns, bleak landscapes and isolations. Enemies to lovers/friends is absolutely my favorite trope, and a slow building of plot is the best way to my heart.

~

Norse Religion & Lore

I adore Norse lore because of its strangeness. It’s a very odd, lyrical kind of mythology. The stories are repetitive and cyclical, and very often makes little sense. And at the same time it manages to make all the sense in the world, which I’ve never managed to wrap my head around. I have very few squicks except character bashing, and I’m open to almost anything. I love ‘road trip’ stories and space operas and Westerns, bleak landscapes and isolations. Enemies to lovers is absolutely my favorite trope, and a slow building of romance and plot is the best way to my heart.

Within Norse religion, I love Loki the most of all, and the stories of Ragnarok. I want to see an exciting and nuanced portrayal of character, and maybe a reversal of fate. Feel free to surprise me. I’m excited to see what’s you’ll do!

the iris

2016-05-27T02:19:19Z

When I leave this place, I leave a patch of iris bulbs. They are in the back garden, sandwiched between brick-lain walls in a patch of dirt that has been mostly forgotten and gone to seed. One has bloomed, a deep crimson with wild streaks of yellow running from base to tip. They are caught in a web of shadow.

I brought the kids out, all twenty-three, to plant them in a wobbly line along the edge of the garden. They huddled in the grass, crouching tentatively to avoid all manner of creepy-crawly things that lurked in their imaginations. When we tamped the dirt down around the bulbs they shook and shivered, the grey clouds that had hung over us for most of a month having sunk into their bones.

For weeks afterward, the plants hung on at the edge of death; I watched nervously from the window until the sun came out and the rains poured down and the browning edges of the leaves turned green and strong, jagged blades pointed toward the sun.

I leave in three weeks. They’ve told me to go, that I’m unneeded. More accurately, they say that I’m not good enough. I have been fired, but in the way of the coward, in which I mean that I have been forgotten by choice.

I pack up my room now. I take something each day – a book, a picture from the wall, a box of supplies. I haven’t taken out the larger things yet, which I worked so hard to find and bring in, piece by piece, straining to shoulder alone. (I should have asked for help with the load, but I’ve never been one to rely on others.) Soon the room will be bare and sparse. The kids haven’t noticed that the things that make our room special are disappearing, one by one.

I will not take the iris. They deserve to stay and flourish, to reach up to the sun and spread the sharp edges of their leaves. The delicate confections of their flowers are wild things. Under the bushes heavy with white blooms, I hope the iris will spread and multiply, taking over the space outside my window in a way that I never could.

When I leave, the iris will stay. It’s likely I will never see the rest bloom. Others will; they will see the blooms that come each year and brighten this shadowed place.

They will see the riot of color that rises from black earth, where we went out and shivered, my children and I. Where we pushed our hands into the damp ground to make new life.

They will see what was left behind.

Petals, sweeping open to embrace the sky.

for a rainy day:

2016-04-28T23:31:04Z

You Will Be Asked

When you go on a job interview
you will be asked:
What are three words that describe you?
It's a stock question
(hint: they haven't prepared, nor read your application)
You should not take this question seriously,
never answer with the truth.

Do not tell them
you are a romantic,
you fall in love as easy as breathing
never learn from your mistakes.
You hate to admit it: the word
romantic is
childhood movies with Princes Most Charming and Princesses Most Beautiful who would rather lie asleep than go after what they most want;
movies with chance meetings and mistaken identities, with men who are charmingly rude and women who realize the power of love (almost) too late to be saved;
to be romantic is to be weak,
to be needy,
to be a woman.
(You/They forget
romantic is
to see the beautiful in the world around you,
to open your heart to new people,
to believe that every new person you meet is a new friend,
just maybe.)

Do not tell them
you are forgetful,
often found
stars in your eyes.
Don't let them know
you miss emails
lose your glasses,
you sometimes stop in the street with a dream in your head that blocks out all else
you've forgotten a thousand and one nightmares
anticipate ten thousand more.
You look at something red and forget where you are,
forget reality (cast it away)
for the slippery slick of blood at a murder scene;
you see clouds moving across a porcelain sky
consider how it would feel to roll and roil and tear yourself to pieces;
smell cut grass
imagine pristine 50s lawns
movie sets with pastel houses.
You forget
you have a body
lose your mind in the possibilities.

Above all,
don't tell them
you are insubordinate.
You read porn in your spare time
eat chocolate black enough to rot your insides
watch illegal movies instead of doing work,
get splendid grades anyway.
You write terrible prose
worse poetry,
words a piercing addiction you cannot shake.
You close the doors and make art, laugh, scream.
You are not stupid: you see the lines drawn in the
sand and neatly step over them; you are the invisible
ghost of what they will never admit to wanting,
what you will never admit to having.
You know that rules exist --
they are not for you.
You refuse to hate yourself
your desires,
if you could be paid for them you would flaunt them.
It's a matter of money, really.

These are the things you will think
in a job interview,
when they ask you That Question.
Don't say them.
Lock your lips,
seal away the key.
You are not
romantic
forgetful
insubordinate
to be such would be
to be
human.
fallible.

You will lie.
You will be steely-eyed.
You will be inhuman.
And
you will get the job.

accounting

2015-12-31T03:49:21Z

We're not very far from the end of 2015, so I thought I might post a bit about my year - how it went, the best things I read and watched, and the worst parts of the year. So, without furhter ado...

2015

HIGHS

I had a busy year and wasn't able to read as many books or watch as much television as I wanted to. I hardly saw any movies at all, so I left them off this list completely.

books

Oyasumi Punpun by Inio Asano
&& I read this manga at the beginning of the year, and it has stuck with me since. It is a brilliant fusion of manga art - both the surreal and realistic kinds - and manga cliches, both of which play upon each other and play tricks upon the reader to make the ending far greater than the sum of its parts. It centers around the main character of Punpun, always drawn as an abstracted bird, and follows him as he moves through elementary, middle, and high school. It's about how we perceive ourselves, how we can shape our own lives and realities, and how the world tries to tear us down. It's often a difficult manga to read, as it can be graphic and sometimes obscure, but it really is beautiful and completely absorbing. It's my absolute favorite read of the year. Warnings for graphic sex, murder, suicide, pornography, bullying, abuse (mental and physical), depression, among other things.

The Goblin Emperor by Katherine Addison
&& I devoured this book. Set in a fantastic world of elves and goblins, fused with elements of political intrigue and steampunk, this novel is brilliant. The main character is Maia, the prince of a empire who happens to be so far down the line of succession that he never expects to inherit. Indeed, he doesn't wish to inherit the throne - his half-goblin heritage has made him an outcast within society and his very family. Yet when the rest of his family is killed in an airship crash, he must not only take the throne, but hold it, win over a court full of enemies, and discover who killed his family. Maia is an easy character to like, and though he can be quiet and unassuming, he develops into a wise and promising leader. This novel is filled with beautiful characters, rich worldbuilding, and exquisite language. I am absolutely in love.

~honorable mentions~
The Goldfinch by Donna Tart
The Shining by Stephen King
The Witch's Boy by Kelly Barnhill

television

Fargo - season 2
&& THIS SHOW. It's too much for me. The slow build. The gruesome and inevitable murders. The way every character gets knotted into the plot and the story builds. And builds. And builds. Until everything cracks apart. I have loved Fargo since the first season, which took place in an entirely different time and with different characters. The latest season is only loosely connected to the first, being technically a prequel. It's really a beautiful thing, too. I love all the characters, from Peggy the half-mad hairdresser to Hanzee the Native American trying to find a way to stop being a monster. A single stupid decision ties them and their families together in a cycle of death and revenge. The show is beautiful scored and filmed, and even steps beyond the bounds of the television by delving into the surreal to think about the nature of life and death itself. It's big and small at the same time, and I'm completely in love.

~honorable mention~
Jessica Jones - season 1

personal
I got a job this year that is promising to be permanent. Even if it lies, I will have had more than a year in a steady position. I took the summer off the wrote a new novel. I submitted two unfinished novels to a publishing house and haven't heard a hard no yet. I wrote a new novel for NaNo in November, with a beginning, middle, and end. I have saved up almost enough to move out of my mother's house. I am nearly finished with my graduate degree. I restarted yoga classes and spent time with friends. I deepened one friendship greatly. I became a vegetarian. I have a place to live, good food to eat, and people who care about me around me.

LOWS

I refuse to list the worst things I read and watched this year; besides, I've already deleted them.

personal
I was blessed with a very good year in 2015. I had no major upheaval in my life and no great sadness. My uncle was diagnosed with cancer and my mother with osteoporosis of the spine. I dated no one and slept with no one. I made no new friends, merely kept old ones. I failed to get off my coffee addiction and probably made it worse. I wrote novels but didn't finish any of them. I worked too hard and didn't do enough with my friends and family. I worked so hard that, when I had time off, I fell into mini-depressions. I didn't do a good job of balancing my life. I let myself get upset over little things and ignore some big ones.

And yet, no one died.

RESOLUTIONS
for 2016
Be a better vegetarian.
Attend yoga classes twice a week.
Run a 5K.
Finish a novel.
Get a short story published.
Get my own place to live.
Read more challenging books.
Spend more time with friends - quality time.
Be a better friend on social media.

Long list! But hell, it's a whole year.

A girl's got to do something.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Dear Yuletide,

2015-10-19T00:33:26Z

General:

Likes. Rich characterizations and worldbuilding. Believably flawed characters. Backstories that effect a current plot. Characters struggling with themselves and other characters as the main plot device. Murder mysteries, Time Travel (Time Loops!). Modern day AUs (they crack me up). Sexual tension. Delayed gratification. Characters fighting for what they believe in. Characters getting it wrong. Cities. Descriptions of cities. Historical AUs (they make me happy to dive into the drama). Mythology. More worldbuilding. Long fics.
Dislikes. Stories based on conversation. Tropes that are barely explained/used gratuitously. Characters who have a happy ending without fighting for it. Torture/kink porn (on its own). Poor grammar and formatting. Quick romances. Characters who are flat or wimpy. Shmoop. Whump. Hurt/comfort. Daddy kink. AUs that take themselves too seriously. Crossovers. Flat original characters (they have a name, but no personality, or they're a stereotype). Un-betaed fics.

If you have a question about a kink, just ask! Generally I'm not as into kink these days, so sticking to gen and character development is a safe choice. :)

The Goblin Emperor
My favorite character in this novel is Maia. He is kind, empathetic, and very clever. I loved reading the original story from his perspective, and that is why I would love to see more from his point of view. I want to see Maia achieve the greatness that he touched on in the novel. I would love to see more of him maneuvering the politics of the Court and surviving despite all odds. I also love the fact of his mixed heritage and would be very interested in a look at how the prejudices surrounding his goblin ethnicity influence his rule. I also love his selflessness (which can get him into a lot of trouble). I want to see how he interacts with other members of the Court and the troubles he battles and deals with next to become a better and stronger "bridgebuilder".

I am not interested in focus on a major romantic relationship (though romance on the side is fine), but would love to see Maia's platonic relationships with any (or all) of the amazing female characters expanded and deepened. I also adore the language of the book, and the interplay between the formal and the personal. It captivated me and was beautiful to read, so it's definitely something that I can't go without.

~

Jane Eyre
Jane Eyre is one of my favorite novels, and I've reread it multiple times. I would really love a retelling of the novel with an AU twist. It could be a remix with a fairytale or a genderswap or a modern AU. I am a feminist at heart, so seeing a reversal of the power-play between Jane and Rochester would be brilliant. Incorporating characters of color in empowering roles would make me extremely happy. Unconventional heroines and adventures are another love of mine. The one thing that I must have is a strong and nuanced female lead.

~

Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell
Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell is one of my absolutely favorite novels when it comes to characters and worldbuilding. I love the rich atmosphere of the novel, the footnotes that make every moment multi-layered, and the brilliant characters. One of the things I adore about this book is how Clarke wove together history and fantasy to create a very real and convincing narrative. There is a kind of fatalism in her work that is beautiful - no matter the idealism of magic as a concept, everything in the world is just as twisted and unfair as always. The only thing that lifts the characters from the morass is the fact of the "story", which makes even the most terrible characters sacred.

I am not particularly looking for a romantic story, but one that delves into the world that Clarke has built and draws upon her characters to dip me back into the world. My favorite character is John Uskglass (the Raven King). That said, I love every other character as well, and would welcome a brilliant story about any of them. I would take an alternate universe/modern retelling. I just want that rich world and characters back.

~

Neverwhere
Neverwhere stands out to me because of the rich details of its worldbuilding as well as its setting in London, one of my favorite cities ever. I think what stands out to me about Neverwhere is that it takes some of the most marginalized and discredited parts of society and makes them into a living, breathing universe of their own. I would love more exploration of the London underworld and how that is a mirror for the visible world.

I also love London adventuring, especially involving the Marquis and Richard, the greatest and most dangerous "odd couple" I can think of. The Marquis is mysterious and deadly, as his 'wisdom' is mostly all bluff and calculated statements. I love Richard's innocence in this world, and would love more about how he learns the ways of the Under London. A story focusing on any female character would be more than fine as well.

~

Sunshine
This book has so much spunk and joy in it. For me, it's the only vampire novel I truly enjoy. I would love to see more of the story, picking up from where it left off. It always tore me apart that it ended to soon and so finally, and any extension of the story would make me very happy indeed.

My favorite character is Rae, of course, quickly followed by Constantine. I love Rae's sharp disregard for manners - how she's a good person, but not always a nice person. She has a lot of personality that I love. I love Constantine's concern for her despite her ability to handle almost anything (it's endearing, as he's often in trouble). I love the connection between them and the world that McKinley built in this - subtly dystopian. If you want to explore the dystopian world more as well as building the main relationship, I would be head over heels.

~

UK Railway Stations
I would like something existential, possibly slashy, and definitely snarky. I didn't see them included, but I have a deep love for Islington and Blackfriars, so to have them included/featured would make my day. Lots of description and building of the City of London would be brilliant. My big loves here are British culture, rich description, and unconventional characters.

Thank you so much for your work! I can't wait to read what you're writing!

TBR - 2015

2015-01-10T03:22:50Z

CLOSED
Books read: 29 total
Books from list read: 3

So here is the list of 12 books that I have been languishing on my shelves forever, which I ~~solemnly swear~~ will ~~definiteily~~ probably try to read this year. In no particular order, since I'm picking them from the jar. Once I've read one, I'll make a post and link back to here.

Latro in the Mist // Gene Wolfe
The Diamond Age // Neal Stephenson
The Goldfinch // Donna Tartt - ★★★★
The Girl Who Played with Fire // Stieg Larsson
Tess of the d’Urbervilles // Thomas Hardy
The English Patient // Michael Ondaatje
Eugene Onegin // Alexander Pushkin
Never Let Me Go // Kazuo Ishiguro
Tenth of December // George Saunders
The Shining // Stephen King - ★★★★
The Giver // Lois Lowry - ★★
The Sardonyx Net // Elizabeth A Lynn

+2 alternates (in case any of the others turn out to be terrible)
Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? // Philip K Dick
The Song of Achilles // Madelline Miller

Others:

★★★★★ - transcendent
★★★★ - brilliant
★★★ - exciting
★★ - promising
★ - solid

Howl's Moving Castle by Dianna Wynne Jones (reread) - ★★
The Encyclopedia of Early Earth by Isabel Greenberg - ★★
The Wine Savant by Michael Steinberger (nonfiction) - ★★
The Strange Library by Haruki Murakami - ★★★★
Oyasumi Punpun by Inio Asano - ★★★★★
Down the Mysterly River by Bill Willingham - ★★★
The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman - ★★★
Two Boys Kissing by David Levithan - ★★★
The Shadow Hero by Gene Luen Yang - ★★★
His Majesty's Dragon by Naomi Novik (reread) - ★
Flesh and Spirit by Carol Berg (reread) - ★★
Breath and Bone by Carol Berg (reread) - ★
Transformation by Carol Berg (reread) - ★★★★
Revelation by Carol Berg (reread) - ★★★
Restoration by Carol Berg (reread) - ★
The Goblin Emperor by Katherine Addison - ★★★★
The Curse of Chalion by Lois McMaster Bujold - ★
The Witch's Boy by Kelly Barnhill - ★★★★
Uprooted by Naomi Novik - ★★★
Ridiculous! by DL Carter - ★★
Red Rising by Pierce Brown - ★★
Golden Son by Pierce Brown - ★★
Melusine by Sarah Monette - ★★
Virtu by Sarah Monette - ★★
Mirador by Sarah Monette - ★★
Corambis by Sarah Monette ★★★

Give me a mo', I know I've read something.

Dear Writer,

2014-10-20T02:01:25Z

You're having a fic! Happy Christmas. :)

First off, thank you so much for writing a story just for me. It means so much to me that you would take time out of your undoubtedly busy schedule to write something for a fandom that I adore, which will delight me beyond all measure. You're wonderful, amazing, and just fantastic!

Generally, I like: rich and realistic characterizations, intense and well-developed worldbuilding, vivid imagery and description, mystery, and a bit of the unexpected. I love it when an author takes the expected (like a character or situation I know), and switches it around so that I become embroiled in the mystery of discovering these characters for a second, third, or fourth time.

I dislike: poor grammar, lack of description, flat characters or worldbuilding, or the expected. Nothing makes me stop reading a story faster than boredom and cliche.

Neverwhere - Neil Gaiman

Neverwhere is the one novel that I read over and over again, and love every time. I adore the world that Gaiman built within London, my favorite city in the entire world. For this fandom, I would really like to read a story about London Below. It can include the characters that we know, but it doesn't have to. I just want to learn more about London, feel that I'm being sucked into its spell, that I'm falling into the history of this city and the way that, over time, an ordinary thing like a city can become part of legend.

Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell - Susanna Clarke

The great thing about Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell is partly the pastiche and partly the rich and stunning worldbuilding. Clarke built an amazing world for her characters to live in, and the intricate plot both thrilled and astounded me. In this fandom, I would particularly like to see a story that focuses on how the novel's twists and turns have effected each character, or perhaps an original character has been affected by one of the events of the story. Or a story which expands upon and explores the deep world of magic that Clarke built in the novel.

Cities (Anthropomorphic)

As previously mentioned, London is my favorite city in the entire world. I would love to see a story about her as a person, set contemporarily, with her as a hip/trendy girl. I want to see an exploration of London as a modern woman - the person she's become. I would not at all mind seeing some hints of her past (especially the dark parts), but I would prefer that the focus remain on who London is today, rather than how she became what she is.

master list.

2013-08-12T02:40:17Z

Self-Published Writing
~mostly fanfiction~
//cross-posted @ao3//

Fanfiction is listed first, and fanart second. I have not included my fanmixes in this list.

Each work of fanfiction is listed by year, then fandom, then length from longest to shortest. Fanart is listed by year within a general table. Anything created previous to 2012 is likely to be locked to this journal, and can sometimes be found on my AO3 account instead. I don't friend people just so that they can read my old stories. The very oldest fics have been taken off the internet. They were terrible, but I listed them here because I like complete things.

That's about all. Let me know if I've missed something or if a link isn't working.

Fanfiction:
2013 | 2012 | 2011 | 2010 | 2009

Fanart

Last updated: 1/10/14

</center>

Fanfiction ϟ 2013
Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell
	by Bird and Book (LJ \| AO3) NC-17; Catherine of Winchester/The Raven King, Gen; 21K All roads end in death, even the King's Roads. Wherein the Raven King gathers his servants.
Harry Potter
	It Was The Tea (The Scheming Remix) (LJ \| AO3) PG-13; Harry/Draco; 4.5K A remix of sophia_clark’s Bird Watching, in which Draco isn’t seeing Potter at all, but his mother is just as single-minded as usual.
Avengers/Thor
Spark (LJ \| AO3 \| Porn Battle) NC-17; Loki/Sif; 400 words She simply asked to see Loki's magic, but Loki never could resist a challenge. Also: shorn, silver, magic, sparring, language, searching, tracking, push, betrayed, freedom	Warrior (LJ \| AO3 \| Porn Battle) R; Loki/Sif; 240 words He takes her hair as his prize. She takes something else. Also: dread, sharp, keen, sinister, reverse, lesson, bend, break, captive, partners, master, strength	Silence & Noise (AO3: 1, 2 \| TBC!) R; Gen; 16K The only thing they're sure of is that Tony Stark has been kidnapped by Loki. And they're all determined to bring him home.
Inception
The Natural (LJ \| AO3) NC-17; Gen (James & Ariadne), Arthur/Eames; 36K James Cobb tells his father that he’s visiting his sister in London for spring break, but he tells his sister the truth: that he's coming to London to meet a woman who can show him a way into the dreaming - a woman named Ariadne. In the end, like all stories, this is a tale of love.	The Bones of You (LJ \| AO3) PG; Arthur/Eames; 680 There is someone in Arthur's bed.
I Am Number Four
	This Hunt (LJ \| AO3) NC-17; John/Sam; 7.7K The gas station doesn’t have a single map left to sell, and John has been lost for a long time now.
A Song of Ice and Fire/Game of Thrones
A Brokered Peace (LJ \| AO3 \| Porn Battle) R; Daenerys/Sansa; 2K She feeds her peaches, because she is young, and has not been truly loved in a very long time. Also: spring, kneel, negotiation, melt, sow, peaches	The Bracer (LJ \| AO3 \| Porn Battle) NC-17; Jon/Ygritte; 780 “Shall I tell you a secret, Jon Snow?” she whispers. Also: cold, fur, cave, lick, red, blessed, remember, hunt, growl, knowledge, vows, grip	The Fire Thief (LJ \| AO3) R; Jon/Lady Stoneheart; 2.5K Jon spins her and shoves her back against the steady haunch of his horse, feels the heat under his skin surge, and leans close to press a kiss to her neck.</b>
Disciple (LJ \| AO3 \| Porn Battle NC-17; Cersei/Sansa; 970 Cersei has a secret locked away in her bedroom, tied tight with silk and silenced with the blade of a knife. Also: knife, replica, concubine, retelling	The Rivers of Winterfell (LJ \| AO3 \| Porn Battle) NC-17; Ned/Catelyn; 1.1K Summers in Winterfell are deceptively warm. Also: beginning, wolf, smallclothes, winter, tree, gods, celebration, summer, conquest, hair, honor, press	Inquartata (LJ \| AO3 \| Porn Battle) R; Jon/Arya; 1.6K The man fences for money, Jon is told. When he asks what fencing was, she tells him that it is a kind of sword fighting. But this is no kind of fighting that Jon recognizes. Also: adult, changed, snow, wolves, North, swordfights, hair, similarity, mirrors
	Enthrone (LJ \| AO3 \| Porn Battle) NC-17; Daenerys/Cersei; 1.3K It is not her throne any more. Also: murder, Queensguard, enthrone, sun
Anthropomorphic
The Naming (and Unnaming) of a Wandering Star (LJ \| AO3) PG; Neptune/Uranus; 2.2K In the year 1846, it was the style on the planet Earth to saddle heavenly bodies with the names of gods – thus was the newly discovered giant named for the King of the Seas: Neptune.	Sparkle and Fade (LJ \| AO3 \| Porn Battle) NC-17; St. Patrick's Day/New Year's Eve; 620 Some nights are evanescent and everlasting - especially for the gods. Also: alcohol, winter
Chronicles of Narnia
	Queen Upon the Ivy (LJ \| AO3 \| Porn Battle) NC-17; Peter/Susan; 1.2K A picnic is no fun without at least one illicit tryst. Also: forbidden, allowed, return, reunion, older, sweet, gentle, magnificent, yearning, touch
Pirates of the Caribbean
	Knots and Tangles (LJ \| AO3 \| Porn Battle) NC-17; Elizabeth/Jack; 1.1K An interlude in Jack's cabin, along with a comb and some dubious sheets. Also: compass, want, mast, fires, immortality, docks, salt, swaying, secrets, power
ϟ 2012</b> ~arranged by length, from most prolific fandom to least, longest fic to shortest~
Avengers/Thor
Hringr (LJ: 1 + 2 + 3 + 4 + 5 + 6 \| AO3) NC-17; Loki/Darcy; 17K She is two steps from the idling car when Loki drops down, shifting midair to land on his feet. The man waiting next to the car reaches for his gun, too slow, and Loki springs from his crouch and lunges for her. Her eyes widen and her mouth opens, but her scream is cut off as a strangled gasp when Loki seizes her and, with a flashing smile, drags her away. Her phone hits the sidewalk and cracks before the flare of light from his magic has faded.	within and without (LJ \| AO3) R; Gen; 10K Loki dreams things that have never been, and can never be. It's a pity that he can't seem to escape his dreams.	Apples (or, The Quest for Breakfast) (LJ \| AO3 \| norsekink) PG; Gen; 4K In which Loki provides the adventure, and Thor provides the muscle. An Hansel & Gretel AU.
the scroll (LJ \| AO3) PG-13; Loki/Thor; 1.9K “Go, then. I see there will be no stopping you. But,” he says, halting Thor as he turns to return to his rooms and gather his things, fetch Mjolnir, “beware, my Son. Loki may be your brother, and we all may love him, but you must remember what he is.”	Swelter (LJ \| AO3) R; Loki/Thor; 1.1K Thor lies on the grass (it is a very hot day), and waits for Loki to arrive (though he doesn't know it yet).	skin and bone (LJ \| AO3) PG-13; Loki/Thor; 800 Thor blinks. "But, brother... I am already yours."
curl (LJ \| AO3) PG-13; Loki/Thor; 600 It took Thor a long time to figure out that the only way to gain Loki’s attention was to force him to be still. He had to be grasped and wrestled into place.	sometimes (always) (AO3) PG-13; Clint/Natasha; 530 He comes to her at night. Or, Clint is a total creeper.
Sherlock BBC
Arsenium (LJ \| AO3) R; Jim/John; 5.1K “Now, now,” the man says, and John rounds on him. “I don’t think you need another drink, John Watson.” John jerks back, eyes widening, and slips off the edge of his stool.	Flowers of Antimony (LJ \| AO3) R; Sherlock/John; 2.4K “—and Sherlock Homes’ll be the one that put it there.” That would never happen. Knowing Sherlock as he already did, John would have bet everything on the fact that no one would ever find one of the bodies Sherlock left behind unless he wanted them to.	Fact (or, Fiction) (LJ \| AO3) NC-17; Mycroft/Moriarty; 1.7K “He’ll only speak to you, sir.”
The Thing (LJ \| AO3) PG; Sherlock & John (Gen); 1,300 words In which Sherlock is just as dramatic as usual, John is more cunning than usual, and Mrs Hudson likes her revenge served in very cute package indeed.	Demon (LJ \| AO3) G; Moriarty (Gen); 500 words Jim’s phone never stops ringing.
Inception
The Diving Bell (LJ \| AO3) R; Cobb/Saito; 21.5K Dom doesn't think he has a choice - it is either leave Saito to die, or remain in Limbo to search for his lost soul - so he stays in the dreaming. But in the end, a choice is the only thing Dom has left.	Bang, Bang. (LJ \| AO3) PG; Arthur/Ariadne; 1K He followed, two steps behind.	Stardust (LJ \| AO3) G; Gen; 960 “Absolutely untrue!” Yusuf countered.
Harry Potter
Seawater Tea (LJ: 1 + 2 + 3 \| AO3) NC-17; Harry/Draco; 26K It is their last assignment as Trainee Aurors and the only time they will have to work together (Draco hopes), but then the storm arrives, and Draco’s life gets much more complicated.	Incubus (LJ: 1 + 2 \| AO3) NC-17; Harry/Draco; 17K In which Harry is a Muggle (but not really), Ron and Hermione are at a loss, Draco is slightly (okay, a lot) fixated, and the solution is both simpler and costlier than imagined.
A Song of Ice and Fire/Game of Thrones
Parrot (LJ \| AO3) PG-13; Gen; 3.2K She would always remember the house with the red door, which she had called home.	Wolf and Comb (LJ \| AO3) PG; Gen; 1.4K The girl was a snake; that much was obvious.
Merlin
	Satisfaction (LJ \| AO3) NC-17; Arthur/Gwen/Merlin; 2.8K No excuses, Merlin reminded himself.
Supernatural
	Neon, Midnight, Cheap Motel (LJ \| AO3) R; Sam/Dean; 1.6 He knows from experience that to speak is to shatter the spell, to wrench Dean away from this intimacy and leave him bereft behind his walls once again. Sam frowns. He should stop being so maudlin.
The Hour
	Ache (LJ \| AO3) G; Gen; 760
The Coldfire Trilogy
	Dividers (LJ \| AO3) R; Gen, Gerald/Damien; 2.5K “…crossing the most treacherous of all mountain ranges, fighting off the nightmare beasts that made those cold peaks their home, braving the wild fae and all that it chose to manifest, their own souls’ nightmares given substance…” - Black Sun Rises, pg. 21-22
Frankenstein (1931)
	Of Thorns (LJ \| AO3) PG-13; Gen; 3.4K Five people who meet the monster once, and one who meets him twice.
ϟ 2011 ~links go straight to my old master list~
Inception
Worlds Afire NC-17; Arthur/Eames; 24K Arthur is standing in his small apartment, a long match in his hand, blazing with light at its tip, when it begins.	A Brighter Thing NC-17/ Arthur/Eames; 16K Eames walks away from the arrivals gate, incomprehensible chatter swirling around him, and the heavy weight of the PASIV in his hand, never dreaming that this machine is real – that it will bring him anything more than a tidy profit.	blood and bone NC-17; Arthur/Eames, Mal/Dom; 9K In which Arthur is a Necromancer and everything else is quite a bit different as well.
Before We Were Criminals PG-13; Arthur/Dom; 3K A one story house, with white siding and a green front door. It has a child’s stained glass project hanging in the front window, and some fading geraniums in the front yard. And the laundry in the backyard is half-hung.	On a Bridge \| (podfic!) PG-13; Ariadne/Mal; 2.5K You fall asleep in your living room, golden sunlight streaming through the windows.	Regent's Park NC-17; Arthur/Eames; 1K 'Fuck professional.'
I've seen ads for De Beers, that's it; so don't expect intricacies PG; Gen; 675 a moment between De-Beers!Cobb and blood-diamond-smuggler!Arthur. (in which Cobb is torn between attraction and moral compassing. and Arthur couldn't give two shits if he tried.)	a very short AU; why can't I stop myself? PG; Arthur/Eames; 580 Eames/Arthur - heart racing in my skin tight jeans	this is not the mile high club; quite PG; Arthur/Eames; 580 Eames/Arthur - conversation(s) on a plane
Harry Potter
Away PG-13; Harry/Draco; 5.2K You met in the hallways of the Ministry of Magic, and stood on the verge of argument, never knowing what would happen to you next.	A Kiss PG-13; Harry/Draco; 4.5K Draco’s parents died a month ago – were killed, more like – and he’s been searching for answers ever since.	The Buzzing Bug G; Gen; 800 she would barely have noticed if he’d died.
Sunset's Rain G; Harry/Draco; 715 Draco was in the library.	oh, ubiquitous love. PG; Harry/Draco; 600 Harry/Draco - it's not a lie if...	Grimmauld Place. Again. PG; Harry/Severus; 530 Severus/Harry -- the test of true love
my god, did i hit a squick? poke. (LOVES RANDOM PAIRING) NC-17; James Sirius/Hugo; 500 James Potter II/Hugo Weasley - Breathlessness
I Am Number Four
The Flatbed NC-17; John/Sam; 1.3K The autumn heat faded to a whisper weeks ago.	Motel PG; John/Sam; 700 They stop at motels to rest.	Parking PG; John/Sam; 700 Sam is perched on the hood of the truck.
Temeraire
	The Fall PG; Gen; 1.5K Into an ancient, crumbling palace, the combatants retreat.
ϟ 2010 ~links go straight to my old master list; ff.net links included~
Harry Potter
September NC-17; Scorpius/Rose; 13K She inherited her mother’s hair, and her father’s temper.	Simplicity of the Soul \| (ff.net) PG; Gen; 8.9K Harry Potter is deaf.	Glasses Lost \| (ff.net) NC-17; Harry/Severus; 6K Harry is not enjoying Professor McGonagall's party, so he leaves to wander the dungeons.
I Cannot Get Out, Said the Starling NC-17; Draco/Pansy; 3.5K His Lord is bright and shining, and leads the hordes to war.	Summertime \| (ff.net) PG-13; Remus/Sirius; 3.2K Sirius lives a contented life.	Pannuchios \| (ff.net) NC-17; Remus/Sirius; 3.2K They are together now, for it is all they have left.
The Dead NC-17; Severus/Remus; 2.5K Remus wakes.	Talk in a Daze, Walk in a Maze PG; Gen; 2.3K Draco answers wrongly.	Meeting PG; Harry/Severus; 1.5K Harry receives an unexpected letter.
A Most Complex and Unusual Birthday \| (ff.net) NC-17; Harry/Draco; 1.3K Draco wants, and gets, an unusual birthday present.	Dizzy PG; Harry/Draco; 1.3K In a bare stone hall at the bottom of the Ministry of Magic.	Moon on Glade \| (ff.net) NC-17; Albus Severus/Scorpius/Giant Squid; 1K Albus has a surprise. No, not that kind.
Vanished Moments \| (ff.net) PG; Albus/Harry; 770 Small moments plopped in the midst of canon that have been, apparently, forgotten.	Mrs Abbot G; Gen; 700	Hannah Abbot PG; Gen; 600
Rose PG-13; Scorpius/Rose; 600 "A rose by any other name…"	Detention NC-17; Harry Severus; 550 He had never been able to concentrate properly in Potions.	Fire Burning on the Dancefloor PG; Harry/Severus; 500
Funny Eyes of Hazel PG-13; Sirius/Regulus; 500	Mid-day Delusions PG; Luna/George; 450	Draco's Hands PG; Gen; 420
Turn to Stone PG-13; Severus/Lily; 350 Wrath.	Bolero PG; Gen; 350 Pride.	Like You, Only Sweeter PG; Gen; 320 Envy.
Merrier the More G; Harry/Severus; 250	the White Knight is talking backwards PG; Harry/Severus; 250	I Remain G; Gen; 230 Sloth.
Scorpion King NC-17; Scorpius/Rose; 220	Hands of Glory G; Gen; 200	Occlumency Again PG; Harry/Severus; 200
When the Sun Goes Down G; Gen; 190 Sin.	Dull the Other Hungers PG; Gen; 150 Gluttony.	Wicked G; Albus/Gellert; 150
codfish NC-17; Harry/Severus; 120	Soot G; Gen; 110
Inception
Into Nothing PG-13; Gen; 1.5K He is sleeping in the back seat tonight...	Now, now. NC-17; Arthur/Eames; 1.4K They say that dreams are meant for escape.	Domesticity PG-13; Arthur/Eames; 1.1K I want Arthur to say he wants a little 'domesticity' instead of 'specificity' on accident due to a Freudian slip and Eames is SMART LIKE A FOX. [Sort of.]
Pulp G; Arthur/Eames; 1.1K Eames returns to their abandoned office.	Glass PG-13; Ariadne/Mal; 1K	Rainbow Flash PG; Arthur/Eames; 930 They walk like a band of heroes, stepped straight off the film screen.
Grapefruit PG-13; Arthur/Eames; 830 Arthur dressing, Eames watching.	don't blink (lest they come upon you in the night) PG-13; Arthur/Eames; 800 It's all about the little things.	Totem PG-13; Arthur/Eames; 800 "Are we dreaming?"
Top Floor PG-13; Saito/Robert; 730 They really shouldn't.	a severe lack of shame NC-17; Arthur/Eames; 450	bite me PG-13; Arthur/Eames; 430 Angry, maybe sex.
subtleties of design PG-13; Ariadne/Arthur; 390	Exhalation G; Gen; 320 Noir, though you wouldn't know it.	subtleties involving consent NC-17; Arthur/Eames; 300
the metal kind NC-17; Arthur/Robert; 290	The End G; Dom/Saito; 250	forging Arthur NC-17; Arthur/Eames; 200
subtleties involving kinks NC-17; Arthur/Eames; 190	Kiss #1 PG-13; Arthur/Eames; 150
Sherlock BBC
Coffee at 221B PG-13; Gen; 1.9K John wakes up to find that it's suddenly autumn.	Attention PG; John/Sherlock, Sherlock/Moriarty; 1K The final confrontation, with their backs to a cliff.	Kiss #2 PG-13; John/Sherlock; 150
Sherlock Holmes
untitled #1 PG; Holmes/Watson; 150	untitled #2 PG-13; Holmes/Watson; 300	Sherlock, In Bed PG-13; Holmes/Watson; 150
The Cabinet of Dr Caligari
	Come \| (ff.net) PG; Gen; 1.2K A story of the horrible, terrible Cesare.
Dexter
	Delightedly Dead PG; Gen; 333
Doctor Who
	Underwear, scarves, and ah! A tie. PG-13; Amy/Rory; 750 This was not how it was supposed to go.
ϟ 2009 ~links go straight to my old master list; ff.net links included~
Harry Potter
Falling, Falling \| (ff.net) M; Harry/Draco; 22K Harry and Draco go very far back in time. By accident.	Grimoire \| (ff.net) K+; Gen; 14K Books had always loved Harry. A tale of seven years.	Sick \| (ff.net) T; Harry/Severus; 650 The dungeons are dry
Success \| (ff.net) K+; Gen; 450 In which Draco is not a coward	Knife PG; Gen; 100
ϟ 2006 ~posted under the name Dire Wolfe; all have long since been taken down and only exist in hard copy.~
Harry Potter
Remembering the Future PG-13; Gen; 7 chapters/~19K Harry is thrown back in time to the Age of the Founders	Portraiture PG; Gen; ~10K For Harry's 25th birthday, he is preserved forever.	The Heir of Lies PG-13; Harry/Tom; ~4K Harry dies during the Final battle. Then he doesn't
The Last Tea R; Harry/OFC (imagined); ~3.5K Harry has a fan.	Acquaforte R; Gen; ~1.5K Madness and death.	One Half PG; Harry/Tom; ~800 Harry and Tom, at the end.
Crow G; Gen; ~400 The statue watches.	After PG-13; Gen; ~350 They spare him.	Shards PG-13; Harry/Draco; 250 Draco wants to remember.</b>

Fanart
The Albion (LJ) G; Merlin (Gen); 2013 From the author - Racebent historical AU. Arthur, softhearted pirate captain of the Albion, is lead on a ridiculous chase across the Pacific Ocean by Merlin the magical merman, snarker extraordinaire. Arthur is not pleased, except for the part where he is.	In Regent's Park (LJ) G; Harry Potter (Harry/Draco); 2013 Why has a Regency Period portrait been done of Draco? And why, of all people, is Harry Potter in it alongside him?	Much Later (LJ) PG-13; Harry Potter (Harry/Draco); 2012 First: Harry fell to his knees, shocked at the sight of what he had done, and reached out grasping for Draco’s hand, desperate to fix it. Then, much later: Draco carded his hand through Harry’s hair; it was thrilling to think that he had reduced Harry to this, turned him into this desperate creature that gasped, shuddered, and writhed beneath him.
Wake (LJ) G; X-Men: First Class (Gen); 2011 Awareness comes back to him slowly, and it's worse, Darwin thinks hazily, than the time he got run down by a bus in Manhattan. Quite a lot worse, actually, because he's somehow pulling himself back together, a thing he's never needed to do before.	Mal with the Black Eyes (LJ) G; Inception (Gen); 2011	Arthur Looks Tired (LJ) G; Inception (Gen); 2010
	Relinquish (LJ) G; Harry Potter (Harry/Draco); 2010 “When school ended…”

master list

2010-08-14T02:18:48Z

Welcome to my old master list. Below you will find links to all my fanfiction and fanart posted here from 2009 through 2011.

Simply click on the links below to find all works under that fandom or pairing. You can browse through the entire list in the comments at the bottom.

FANFICTION

Harry Potter
[ Harry/Draco; Harry/Severus; Remus/Sirius; Severus/Remus; Scorpius/Rose; Draco/Pansy; Luna/George; Sirius/Regulus; Albus/Gellert; Albus/Harry; Albus Severus/Scorpius/Giant Squid; Severus/Lily; James Sirius/Hugo; Gen; ]

Inception
[ Dom/Saito; Arthur/Eames; Ariadne/Arthur; Ariadne/Mal; Arthur/Robert; Saito/Robert; Arthur/Cobb; Mal/Dom; Eames/Mal; Gen; ]

Sherlock Holmes
[ Holmes/Watson; ]

The Cabinet of Dr Caligari
[ Gen; ]

Dexter
[ Gen; ]

Sherlock BBC
[ John/Sherlock; Sherlock/Moriarty; Gen; ]

Doctor Who
[ Amy/Rory; ]

Temeraire
[ Gen; ]

I Am Number Four
[ John/Sam; ]

FANART

Harry Potter
[ Gen; ]

Inception
[ Gen; ]

X Men: First Class
[ Gen; ]

If there are no symbols at the end of the subject line, the fic was written/posted in 2010.

& - written/posted in 2011.

And feel free to add your own comments! If you want to offer your opinion, or if you've simply found a mistake, please let me know. I love comments, and the more the merrier.