aldersprig: (BookGlasses)
I write a lot - much in established settings, some in one-off universes.
Below is an index of my universes; each 'verse has its own landing page with an index of stories within.
Buy the writer
some tea!
Want to read more? Peruse the archives below, or wait for a Giraffe Call to request new fiction.

Become a Patreon Patron
and unlock more fiction!

The Faerie Apocalypse is liveblogged at [personal profile] faeapoclive, [ profile] faeapoclive, and [ profile] faeapoclive. What what happens when the gods return to our world.
Stranded World (LJ Link), modern fantasy seen through the eyes of 4 siblings who work the webs of the world, each in their own way.
Reiassan (LJ Link), high fantasy in a world just recovering from centuries of battle.
Edally Academy (LJ Link), Steampunk Boarding School in the world of Reiassan.
Tir na Cali (LJ Link); technically modern fantasy, alternate-history timeline, primarily lifestyle-kink erotica.
Faerie Apocalypse (LJ Link), a dystopic modern and post-modern fantasy/apoc world. Faeries and gods live among us, disguised as humans, their culture underground.
Addergoole (LJ Link) is a school within the Faerie Apocalypse setting.
Doomsday is a school created by graduates of Addergoole, generations after the Faerie Apoc.
Vas' World (LJ Link): the team was sent to explore the planet for colonization. They could never have guessed what they'd find.
Dragons Next Door (LJ Link)is a fun high-fantasy-in-the-burbs setting with a few good-with-ketchup crunchy dark bits.
Facets of Dusk (LJ Link) is a mystery waiting to be revealed; come along for the show!
The Planners (LJ Link): When the Apocalypse came, they were prepared. Very Prepared.
Unicorn/Factory (LJ) of the costs of progress.
The Aunt Family (LJ) - a mysterious family with some very strange magical artifacts.
Space Accountant (LJ) All Genique wanted was a nice vacation.
Shadow Rebellion (LJ) It all started with the shadows moving...
Science! (Lj) Why haven't Mad Scientists taken over the world yet?
Fairy Town There's something about the city. Something in the water, maybe?
Inner Circle (LJ) Getting to the Inner Circle can take a lifetime - or cost you your life.
Setting Nursery - these one-off stories may blossom into settings some day (incomplete)

All of my writing here is crowdfunded and crowdsourced; comments and suggestions keep the gears spinning and donations keep the power on.
My Donor landing page is here (and on LJ); you can tip (tips go in a general pool to sponsor longer stories, voted on monthly), sponsor an already-written story, or commission a story to be written.

Once a month I open up a call for prompts; the Giraffe Call's landing page is here and on LJ.

I hosted a 30-days of flash fiction meme: its landing page is here (LJ Link)

Want more? There's always more to read!

What Follows,
an apocalyptic anthology:
How would an Immortal deal with
the End Times? The world will
inevitably come stumbling into
apocalypse, and They will be
there to witness it.

 photo ShiftingHearts_zps419ea943.jpg
Shifting Hearts,
a therian anthology:
It is said that the eyes are the windows
to the soul, but what if the soul that looks
back isn't as human as you first thought?

Addergoole, a completed webserial

Edally Academy, a new webserial

Tales for the Sugar Cat, my ebook

Kazkah Press, a flash-fiction webzine

Wikis of setting information currently exist in various stages of completion:
Addergoole: the Original Series - semi-defunct, but has information still being migrated to the below wiki
Addergoole Year Nine - and beyond
Faerie Apoc
aldersprig: a close up of an alder leaf (Leaf)
It wasn't a slow week, I can say that. It was just a slow week for posting.

Last Friday was all-errands-all-the-time, including over an hour at Lowe's and a good deal of time at a few other stores. I mean, we got a lot done, but writing wasn't part of it.

Then Saturday and Sunday were an awesome drive to Albany to visit our friends E.Mc. & Pivin - again, awesome, and again, very little writing.

Monday-Tuesday, I was working on a piece for submission. Wednesday I was editing & fretting about it, then submitting it. And a lot of this week has been planning Nanowrimo.

So if I've seemed quiet, in terms of blogging, I have been.

But this is what I posted this week:

Giraffe Call Stories
Probably a Rescue - [personal profile] technoshaman's commissioned continuation of A Rescue, of Sorts
Cuckoo's Egg - a story of Tír na Cali
Captive of the Night Witch - probably Fae Apoc
Not Rehabilitation - probably Fae Apoc
Interlude: A Brief History of the Empress Edaledalende Academy of Higher Learning at Ileltedez
Cleaning out Files - Population of the US in fae apoc post-apoc
aldersprig: (Tairiekie)
(Updated on time but forgot to DW, sorry)

The Edally Academy was built in one of the so-called Empirates of Peace. The Emperor Elareltiendol was a scholarly, thoughtful man, allowed to be so in part because his grandmother, the previous Empress, had thoroughly devastated all of their enemies. The nation would have decades to rest while those foes caught their metaphorical breath.

Continue reading... here
aldersprig: (AylaSmile)
308,745,531 2011
30,874,553.10 2012
27,787,097.79 2035
33,344,517.35 2050
40,013,420.82 2060
48,016,104.98 2070
57,619,325.98 2080
69,143,191.17 2090
82,971,829.41 2100
91,269,012.35 2110
100,395,913.58 2120
110,435,504.94 2130
121,479,055.44 2140
133,626,960.98 2150

...probably not with actual fractions of a person.
aldersprig: (KinkBingo2)
Drausus the warlord lived in an impenetrable fort on the top of an unclimbable cliff and ruled over his territory with an iron fist and a stone heart. Or, at least, he had.

Drausus commanded the farmers to grow enough for themselves and then enough for him, and those that did not, he put to work in the mines, pulling out steel and gold. Or, at least, he had.

He took his pick of the finest of the young people to warm his bed and keep him company and if they were lucky, when he was done with them he'd arrange a marriage with a member of his personal army. Or, at least, he had.

The woman, the hero, had climbed the unclimbable cliff, bypassed the well-bribed army, penetrated the impenetrable fort, and beaten the unbeatable warlord. She had done the first with tools he had never seen, the second with stealth he hadn't thought of, the third with a little bit of both - and the fourth, Drausus had to believe was witchcraft and dishonesty and nothing more. She couldn't have been that good at everything.
Read more... )
aldersprig: (BookGlasses)
Previous: The Rescue? Continues?
First: A Rescue, of Sorts

“Was it really that obvious?” Daxton let the mercenary woman half-guide and half-help him into the hunting cabin. He couldn't have run away if he'd wanted to and, concerned as she was with the ransom, she'd probably catch him. “I mean, that I'm not interested in...” He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence the way she had, interested in rutting. “Um. Bedroom games? I thought I hid it pretty well.”

She opened the door with her foot. “You flirted with married women, grandmothers, great-great-grandmothers, and the occasional woman devoted to the gods. In other words, you were immensely friendly with anyone who would never take you up on it.”

“...You really noticed that?”

“I was looking.”

“I never noticed you.

“Well, you're not supposed to, are you? I mean, you're the Duke's son and I'm a mercenary. But I had reason, too.” She helped Daxton to a chair - a surprisingly sturdy one, that looked big enough to hold a bear comfortably. “I'm going to see to the horses. I'll be just a moment.”
Read more... )
aldersprig: (Cali)
"Anything else, Mistress?" The slave, tall and dressed very handsomely, bowed to Lady Lillian.

"That will be all, thank you, Brandon." She dismissed him with a flap of her hand, negligent and casual.

"As you wish, Mistress." He bowed again and retreated to the cushion in the corner of the solarium.

Lady Lillian turned back to her guest, an older Baroness from the next Barony over. "Isn't he a dear?"

"He seems awfully - placid, I suppose, for an American." Lady Rose pursed her lips. "Is he wearing a shock collar?"

"Nothing like that, no, of course not." Lady Lillian giggled. "No, he's a volunteer."

"A... what? I didn't think we had those."

"Oh, yes. Morganna's been working with a few underground organizations. Gay people, transgender, submissive... they can't be who they are, in America."
Read more... )
aldersprig: (KinkBingo2)
The Night Witch was, everyone knew, evil and dark and murderous and, above all, perhaps, terrifying. She ate people alive, it was said; she had paved the walk to her lair with the bones of her victims, many ground into powder over the years - decades - she had resided there. She held the entire small nation in terror, and worked great evil from her mountainside abode. The trees were twisted, it was said, for miles in every direction.

Up that mountainside, now, Candor was being dragged, past the trees, twisted and stunted and very very creepy, past the caves where the monsters were said to live, down the path of bone, which was, indeed, white and in some places powdered. They had him chained hand and foot, tricep and thigh, until he was more of a ball of chain than a Hero. They had him on a sled, dragging him up the bone path, past the black trees with their blood-red leaves. And they were taking him as a prisoner to the Night Witch.

And Candor was smiling.

Nobody could see it, of course. He was gagged - nobody would take one of his kind prisoner without a gag - and his face was pressed against his knees. The smile was more of a figure of speech than a physical expression, but Candor had stopped struggling some miles back, feigning tiredness but really just not wanting to risk breaking free too soon. He'd felt a chain wiggle, the last time he gave it a good shake. And his people were known for being strong. They should have used better chains.

The path crunched under the sled, and, though he could see very little, he could see the tibia of some woodland creature. She ate her prey alive, but that was no human bone. The minions dragging him were panting. The hill up to the Night Witch's cave was very steep.

Candor waited. They were almost there, and, when he was brought to the Night Witch, he knew, even bound like this, his plan would work.

The sled stopped. He could see nothing but the path, but he heard a door open. He heard the murmur of proud-minion-explanation. He heard the measured footsteps that had to be the Night Witch, and he saw the white leather toes of her boots.

Candor waited. The feet paused. Candor knew the moment she realized what she was seeing, the moment she recognized the tattoos and scars on his back.

"You?!" It was a gasp, from the Witch who was unshakable.

Candor smiled. Hello, darling.

Written to [personal profile] inventrix's prompt.

This may be fae apoc.

If you'd like to see more of this story, there is definitely more to be written! Just drop a tip in the the tip handcuffs:

We are as of this posting, $17 from three more prompters getting an extra 500-word story, and $35 from a rug for my cave!

aldersprig: (Summer)
They had a yard.

Summer had grown up with a yard, of course, the rolling acres of the RoundTree estate, and Melinda had grown up in the 'burbs - but Bishop had spent his whole life in apartments and high-rises.

Now, with the giant house they were renting (they'd gotten lucky, but, as Melinda pointed out, they usually got lucky when they really needed to. Summer was their good luck charm, and she was totally fine with that), they had space, they had a kitchen, and they had a back yard.

"You're sure the landlord's okay with a fire pit?" Bishop moved the cement pavers around one more time. "Right here look good to you?"

"I think it ought to all be one inch to the left," Melinda teased. "Bishie, it's fine."

"It's more than fine. It's beautiful." Summer grabbed one side of the metal pit while Melinda grabbed the other. "Just like you, Bishie."
Read more... )
aldersprig: (Aldersprig Leaves Raining)
Shonie came over for game night, the same way she always did. She brought the same things the guys did - dice, books, a habit of complaining about the rules - and the same things the other girls in the group did - which included some snacks, some bottled water, and a bribe for May, Dave Carter's girlfriend and co-renter of the apartment in which they were gaming.

She brought something nobody else did, too - of course, in a group like this, everybody had a specialization. Shorter-Dave brought a habit of playing explosive rogues and a way of smoothing over conflicts. Jenn With All the N's brought the half-elf girls, always the half-elf girls, and an ability to find any loophole, anywhere, everywhere. SeKDillimn brought the snake - and other things, but usually the snake. And Shonie brought Handling Dave Carter.
Read more... )

Okay, first, names: That's a combination of a friend's childhood group (everyone is firstnamelastname) and my own gaming group from a few years back (Jen vs. Jenn-n-n-n, Other Dave and Other Jeremy, key-mash screenames and things from gaming & the SCA. We had first Bob the Gangrel & then Mark the Gangrel, so. Gangrel it is.)

This is written to [personal profile] whuffle's prompt and is not in any current setting.

If you'd like to see more of this story, I bet there's more to be written. Just drop a tip in the the tip handcuffs:

aldersprig: (Evangaline)
What if Aunt Family is in the same world as Fairy Town?

What if it's in the same world as Cracks?
aldersprig: (KinkBingo2)
My Dungeons & Caves Call is still open! But only for the rest of today.

This prompt call is all about captured men, enslaved men, kidnapped men, submissive men, trapped men.

Leave a prompt, and I will write a micro/flash-fic. Tip, and I will write more words - 100 per $1US tipped.

(The cuffs are the tip jar)

And the more money donated, the more I'll write.

At $25, T. & I get take-out. Thai, I think, though it may be Indian. Reached! (It turned out to be Chinese. Mmm, shrimp-fried rice).

at $40, I will commission a piece of character art from a crowdfunded artist Reached!
(I will wait to see which story is most popular before commissioning a piece. Right now, "A Rescue of Sorts" is winning ;-)

At $50, I will write an extra fic for everyone. One prompter chosen at random will get an extra 500-word story. Reached! (I will write these once I've written all the original stories!)

At $75, three prompters chosen at random will get an extra 500-word story written to their prompt Reached! (I will write these once I've written all the original stories!)

We're at $83 as of this posting! Thank you, everyone!

At $100, three more prompters chosen at random will get an extra 500-word story.

At $120, I get a rug for my cave!

Go prompt, if you haven't!
aldersprig: (BookGlasses)
The Artist Formerly Known as the Writer in my Attic, K Orion Fray ([personal profile] kissofjudas, is having a prompt call - here. The theme is "Ghosts and Spirits."
Prompting is free; tips buy story continuations.

And, in [personal profile] ysabetwordsmith's Tuesday Fishbowl, she wrote "The Age of Reasons" to my prompt. It hasn't been sponsored yet, but it's a lovely poem!
aldersprig: (Aldersprig Leaves Raining)
Thimbleful Thursday is a new microfic prompt site (mine!). This week's prompt was "Cut the Mustard" and the word limit was 500 (450-550).

This piece is 547 words, and it might soon become obvious what prompted it.

"You're never going to be able to do it, you know."

Shut up.

"You're never going to make it. You're just not good enough."

Shut up!

"You might as well face it. There's people who can do this sort of thing - and then there's you."

Shut Shut Shut UP!

"Why don't you just give up?"

"Shut UP!"

Read more... )
aldersprig: (Tairiekie)
“You’re measuring Social Aetherism?” Enrie stared at the device.

“I told you I was going to.” Tairiekie blinked at her friend in confusion. Saydrie, too, leaned forward, looking worried.

“Tairiekie… isn’t that heretical?” He sounded even more worried than he looked.

“I don’t think so?” She settled for putting the tea kettle over the steam output.

Continue reading on the website!
aldersprig: (Cooking)
Yesterday, I learned:

That porchetta is a food item (Wikipedia says it is "a savoury, fatty, and moist boneless pork roast of Italian culinary tradition"). It is also a food item that our local grocery store sells.

That pancetta is a food item. (Wikipedia says that is is "is Italian bacon made of pork belly meat that is salt cured and spiced with black pepper and sometimes other spices").

That my husband's handwriting can make pancetta look exactly like porcetta (it's that a-n) and that I should really check the list in the evening, before I go to the grocery store at 8:30 a.m.

That the recipe I want to make later this week calls for pancetta, not porchetta.

And that porchetta is very tasty, and very different from pancetta.

Time to hit the local butcher's!
aldersprig: (LynConstruction)
Work has been doing a scrum-style meeting every morning ( for admin, so I thought I'd do something similar for me.

So, Yesterday I:
* Worked 8 hours, including a grocery run in the a.m. (which is also my home grocery shopping).
* Wrote 1168 words, including on two commissions and the giraffe call
* with T., stacked one wagonload (like this) of firewood
* took a 25-minute walk.
* oh, and did the cat litter

I found myself tired after work, so took after-dinner as a break-night and watched Dollhouse.
aldersprig: (Valran)
Valran, by Mellama photo unnamed_zpsa9b5ef54.png

Chapter Eight: Valran



The female voice, again. Valran didn’t move.

“Come, Valran Servus. I am buying you.”

He risked looking up, now. It didn’t seem like the wisest idea, but there was something about her voice that demanded attention. So up Valran looked, into eyes like amber.

Keep reading on the webpage!
aldersprig: (AylaWorried)
Eamon had made his share of enemies in four years at Addergoole.

Everyone did, he supposed. Everyone got in somebody's way, everyone pissed someone off. He liked to think that he'd done right, at least. He'd made the bad guys angry, made almost all of the really bad ones somewhere between furious and spitting mad, and generally protected the small, the weak, and those who didn't know better yet. But that didn't make him any fewer enemies - that just made the ones he had stronger and more ruthless.

He watched his back his first year out of school. It was 2012, so there was a lot of watching to do, anyway. Watch out for the army, watch out for the monster-hunters. Watch out for the monsters, in at least three varieties. Help who you can.

He was actually pretty good at helping people, too. He was naturally gregarious and made more so by his Change; people liked him. He was a nice puppy. Big, friendly, affable, and nobody really thought too much about how big he was when he was helping them out of a jam. He made a bit of a name for himself - helping people out of difficult situations, playing fireman or EMT or whatever and then moving on while people were still grateful. It was, he hated to admit, fun. People liked him.

By the time he woke up with a splitting headache, he'd actually forgotten all about watching his back from school enemies, and he'd almost forgotten about watching out for the other threats. The world was done ending. It had been a few years.

And he was staring up at someone straddling him, trying desperately to remember how he'd gotten here - and why she was smiling.

Read more... )
aldersprig: (KinkBingo2)
Previous: A Rescue, of Sorts

Daxton had dealt with mercenaries before - there had been the month of assassination attempts, and then there had been the border skirmishes, since his father's Duchy butted up again the Red Queen's land. He had learned, unpleasantly but quickly, that you did what you were told by the people in armor, or, Duke's son or not, they made certain you did what they wanted. He fell quiet and held still.

"This'll just take a minute." She pulled a leather roll from her belt and, from there, pulled a set of tiny tools. "Just hold still..." One slim tool went into the key-hole of Daxton's shackles, followed by another, this one at an angle. "Hold still..." Daxton hadn't moved, but, then again, she wasn't looking at him, she was looking at her work.

Three clicks later, the shackles had released. "Can you walk?"

"Yes." He was fairly certain he could, at least. "But-"

"Hsst, come on." She hauled him to his feet and shoved her shoulder under his arm. "We've got to get out of here before - well, we've got to get out of here."
Read more... )

Next: Probably a Rescue.
aldersprig: (KinkBingo2)
"Miss Myers, when you I said I was willing to do anything..." Danny wiped sweat from his brow. He should just shut up. He kept talking. "I suppose the tone of your voice led me to think that, maybe, since you were looking for a 'personal assistant' and it was going to be work in my degree field..."

"You thought perhaps the work would either be sexual or related to business. I understand." Lilliam Myers sat down on stone wall with a practiced skirt-smoothing gesture that did not help Danny's concentration. She was fifteen years older than him and a thousand times richer and more successful. And he worked for her, and she was talking about sex. "You weren't expecting to be laying walls and mowing my lawn. It doesn't appear to be forwarding your position any, am I right?"

"Exactly." He picked up another brick and slotted it into place.
Read more... )
aldersprig: (Aldersprig Leaves Raining)
Work has been doing a scrum-style meeting every morning ( for admin, so I thought I'd do something similar for me.

So, yesterday, I:
* Worked for 8 hours!
* wrote 1775 words, including a Giraffe Call prompt, a Genderfunky prompt, and parts of two Giraffe Commissions.
* made this:

(which is a number chart for tracking food and exercising)
* hung my mirror in my bedroom (finally)
* hung my bulletin board in my cave to have a place to put the above velociraptor count
* with T, hauled and stacked one wagonload of wood into the house
* took a ~ 25-minute walk with T

aldersprig: a close up of an alder leaf (Leaf)
When I post "*GRIN*" in response to a comment, it's because you've actually gotten a face-stretching happy-emotions-making grin out of me.

Thank you for all those times.
aldersprig: (BookGlasses)
So [personal profile] clare_dragonfly has an awesome idea for a Patreon: & I'm contemplating changing my model to be more similar to hers.



I prefer to keep the patronage/reward monthly, rather than per-unit, in part 'cause my units are so darn small & constant & in part for more consistent income.

My current Patreon:
aldersprig: a close up of an alder leaf (Leaf)
After getting out of tie and then getting back INTO tie again, I used to chose between Stranded World and Impossible Situations, and the winner is...

Impossible Situations!

There will be a mini-Call on this later in the month (once I wrap up the current call). I expect this to be fun. ;-)

As a note - November will not have a theme. November's theme is "Oh, bog, nano."
aldersprig: (Shiva Unhappy)
The hood over Rrrina's head smelled of menthol and nothing else, the world around her was muffled and her ears pinned against her head, and she was bound. Usually, when she ended up in this position, someone wanted to do something a bit naughty to her. This time... well, she wasn't ruling it out, but she thought that "naughty" might be in a completely different context than she was used to.

And she was being carried again, carried by a skin-job, a leopard in a man's body. This had to be the weirdest her life had been in - in - maybe in ever.

She was too turned around to have any sense of direction, the menthol in the hood made it impossible to navigate by scent, and her porter kept bouncing her, making it very hard to count steps. Had he stolen her? That's what he'd said. But stealing slaves was - it was bad, very bad. And her head felt funny. Something in the menthol? Something... this was bad.

Rrrina came to on a cushion, in a warm place that felt like sunshine. Three sets of training came into play, and she opened her eyes only halfway while letting her other senses take inventory.

The cushion was comfortable, soft, and warm. The heat was too omnidirectional to be sunlight, but maybe a sun lamp? It was bright but not unbearably so, and the light seemed to be coming from above. Her nose was still clogged, but, even so, she could smell other cats.

She opened her eyes. The floor, the fixtures - all white. In front of her, a lab-coat person. Her eyes opened further. A lab-coat-wearing feline, jaguar spots, now that was new. Her captor was there, too, shedding out of his overalls. He met Rrrina's gaze and smiled. It looked wrong, too feline in his human face

"Good, you're awake. Welcome to the Feline Rebellion."

After Down in Kitty Town, Entering Kitty Town, and Kit Town Maybe.
aldersprig: (Aldersprig Leaves Raining)
At this point, I need to pick a starting point and, you know, start a story. Help?

It was raining the day of the scheduled departure from Westville.

Emilia wasn't worried about rain. She could pilot her tiny airship through a lot worse than rain. She had once gotten across the Blank Plains - across them the wide way, no less! - in the middle of blizzard season, and not lost even a single finger on a single passenger.

But off to the southeast, across the Plains and coming closer, there was a lightning storm. And Emilia would not fly in lightning. No sane airship pilot would.

"I've got to get to Townburg." Her client was paying her very, very well, which was why she hadn't gagged him with his own cravat yet. "I've got to get Townburg soon."

"We can't fly today. We can't be in the air." Emilia pointed at the lightning breaking against the far horizon. "You see that? You know what lives in those lightning clouds, don't you?"

The client eyed her cautiously. "Superstitious nonsense."

"You can say it's superstition all you want. I've flown through a storm, once. Once is all I want to do that."

He sneered. "I thought you were the best."

"I am the best. That's how you know: I've survived flying through a storm." She sat down, making it as clear as possible that she wasn't going to move.

"But creatures that eat storm-energy? Monsters that live in the sky? That's peasant bunk."

"Then I'm a peasant." And also a scholar of history. "But my peasant ship isn't going anywhere until the storm clears."
aldersprig: (Aldersprig Leaves Raining)
Reyne tried to make a point of meeting all new visitors to the planet at the spaceport. For one, as cultural attache, it was part of the job. For another - Reyne liked the Mestaron, but they were extremely, extremely touchy about certain things - much as many humans were, come to think about it - and there had already been too many "incidents." Humans might be touchy, but it didn't mean they were cautious about others' touchiness when visiting other planets.

(It was a bit surprising that Reyne had been allowed to keep the position of cultural attache, once that first report, the one with the bolding and the caps-lock, had gone through, but part of the bolding-caps-lock-side-bar had covered the unusual situation of Reyne and others of similar unusualities.)

This particular contingent, however, Reyne made a point of taking a shuttle up to their ship and meeting them before they even thought about touching down. Dressed carefully, in clothing that was sufficiently formal to impress, sufficiently Mestaron-like to discomfit, and specifically and entirely androgynous, Reyne greeted each of the VIPs first in the current style of the Federation and then in the human-equivalent of the Mestaron style.
Read more... )
aldersprig: (Tairiekie)
Jumping Rings/Inner Circle
is on Web Fiction Guide here
and of course, its website is here

Edally Academy
is on Web Fiction Guide here
on Muse's Success here
and its website is here.

And I need reviews! Reviews drive traffic, they get people interested in the story, and they help with the rankings on both sites (still working on getting Jumping Rings up on Muse's).

What's more, reviews count as $5 towards a second weekly chapter - three reviews for Edally, and I'll post another chapter. Ditto for Jumping Rings. And, yes, I'll count a review written for one site and copy-pasted into the other as two.

aldersprig: (GIRAFFE!)
Did you know I had a prompt call open? (Here:

The theme is "submissive men, chained men, captive men," and funds earned will go towards making my writing cave a comfy place for writing this winter.

We got to the "take-out" level quickly this month, so last night, T. and I had Chinese take-out. (Sesame chicken, shrimp fried rice, fried dumplings, & crab Rangoon) (turns out the kitten approves of shrimp fried rice!)

We've also reached the $40 art-from-a-crowdfunded-artist level (And I've just commissioned [ profile] djinni to do a picture of the Samurai Catboy from the last giraffe call). I'll have to see if the choice is as easy this time as it was last time; if there's no clear favorite, I'll put up a poll when the Call is closed.

And we're $2 from everyone-gets-a-second-story!

So go prompt! Prompts don't have to be kinky and fics won't be sexually explicit unless you ask for it.

Then, if you like what you read, you can always tip for more story, at the discounted rate of $1/100 words.

aldersprig: a close up of an alder leaf (Leaf)
"It's the stereotype, right?" He shed his jacket and ran a hand through his hair, tousling it. The woman smiled encouragingly and let him talk. "Powerful guy, has it all." His shirt joined his jacket; his fingers and his speech slowed. The woman didn't mind - he was sculpted under the shirt, sleek, and clearly a bit nervous. "But he doesn't have any place to put 'it all' down. He doesn't have any place to not be in charge." His fingers lingered on the button to his pants.

The woman counted silently to three, waiting for the moment when he looked at her, when he looked for an answer. One, two... there. She stepped forward, gently moving his hand away from his waistband so that she could take over. "Yeah, it's the stereotype. And that's for a reason." She unbuttoned him, unzipped his fly, and with the same slender fingers pushed his pants down to his ankles. "But every theme has variations. Mmm, every song has a bridge."

"Every rose has its thorn?" he teased.

"And every night has its dawn." From her knees at her feet, she smiled up at him. "And sometimes, a powerful man needs to let go. Yes?"

He let out a noise that was somewhere between a groan and a plea. "Yeah. Yeah... yes."

"Then... let go. I'll be here to catch you, and I'll be here to put you back on your feet."

As the fireman sank slowly to his knees, the woman reached out, both hands, to hold his shoulders. Sometimes, they needed her to put out flames.

My Dungeon & Cave Call is open!

If you'd like to see more of this story, I'm sure I could come up with some;-) Just drop a tip in the the tip handcuffs:

Written to [ profile] wispfox's prompt
aldersprig: (Evangaline)
Dr. Elwood had been the obstetrician for the last seventeen Family births. A remote cousin by marriage, Dr. Elwood understood, at least more than a normal doctor might have, the problems implicit in just about everything a Family member did.

Which meant that, when he held Haley Stone's first child in his hands, he made sure that the nurses had cleared all extraneous family - all of them - out of the room before he spoke softly to Haley.

"Is it possible you - ah - indulged in some way during your pregnancy, Miss Stone?"

Her cheeks were already flushed, but he thought her expression might have been a bit guilty. "I never do drugs, Doctor. Is my baby all right?"

"Your baby is perfectly healthy, Miss Stone. And you know as well as I do that I didn't mean drugs."
Read more... )
aldersprig: a close up of an alder leaf (Leaf)

The Highlights

What Follows is Live!

Prompt Me
~Leave a prompt, get a microfiction~
Cave & Dungeon Prompt Call - Submissive or Captured Men

Edally Academy Chapter Twelve: If You Call It a Fish, People Will Expect It to Swim
Jumping Rings Chapter Seven: Taslin

Blog Posts
A beginning of a basic overview of starting a webserial
Everyone Else is Doing It: October Goals

Patreon Fic
Family Reunion, for the Genderfunk Call
The Shape-Wizard's Apprentice

A Few Stories
Hallowe'en's Past, a ficlet for the Genderfunk call
Rock, Hard, Now What?, for the Dungeon Call
(Not Actually Demifiction) of Inner Circle - Whoops for the Demifiction Prompt Call
The Lands of the Circled Plain, a... setting story? for #3ww

The rest of the two-weeks )
aldersprig: (KinkBingo2)
"I'm telling you, man, she's something else. She's in here like she's on the prowl, on the huuunt." Ted drew the word out like he was tasting it. "When's the last time you saw a chick in here like that?"

"Well, a)," Rick ticked off on a finger, "we haven't seen her yet, and 2), I haven't seen a chick in here at all, except Patty the bartender, since Donnie's wife came in after him. This is a sports bar, bro, and there's nothing here but a giant sausage fest."

"And beer." Donnie demonstrated by slinging his beer back in one giant swig. "And my good friends Jack and Johnny. Think you've had too much to drink, Teddy boy."

"What about you?" The whisky contralto snuck up on them, the sort of voice that tightened their pants and sped up their heart rates. "Are you strong enough?"
Read more... )

My Dungeon & Cave Call is open!

We all know where this is going, but if you want to see more, drop a tip in, ah, the tip handcuffs:

This story written to @dahob's prompt.
aldersprig: (KinkBingo2)
"Well." The princess looked at the man kneeling in front of her. He, in turn glared up at her. "This is certainly a situation."

"No." His voice was harsh. "This is an inconvenience. What happens when you let me out of the chains - that's a situation."

"It certainly could be." She perched on an upholstered stool and studied him. He was all over muscle, fighter-style, and all over bruises and cuts. He was kneeling because he'd been chained that way, and even the chains, thick as her wrist, looked as if they were straining to hold him. "But here's the problem. I don't want to be here, you don't want to be here. And any solution that leads to one of us not being here leads to us both ending up dead."

"How do you figure, princess?" He sneered her title like an insult.

She didn't respond in kind. "You heard my father. I have to survive you for a year. And you have to survive me - which, I admit, should be easier for you." She ran her fingers over the hilt of her belt-knife. She wasn't helpless - but she had to sleep sometime.

"Like he'd kill his precious daughter."

"He is the King, and he gave his word. Emotion is secondary to honor." She needed to move. She stayed sitting down. "And if you kill me, you won't make it out of the city."

"I might."

"But you probably won't." She leaned down until she could look him levelly in the face. "So. Neither of us want to be here. How do we get through this?"

My Dungeon & Cave Call is open!

If you want more of this story - and this one could go on for a while!! - drop a tip in, ah, the tip handcuffs:

This story written to [personal profile] rix_scaedu's prompt. It is, I have to admit, a story I've tried to write several dozen times - however, this is the first time in quite a few years. So it's new, right?
aldersprig: an egyptian sandcat looking out of a terra-cotta pipe (Default)

Austin is Jenner's grandson, which matters only for my notes.

He has sandy blonde hair, generally tousled and sun-bleached.

His face is shaped like this guy: but he's a very smiley sort, always grinning.

His skin is sun-baked, darkly tanned. His eyes are light hazel.

He's a short kid, he'll eventually reach around 5'6" tall, wiry, athletic.

He has cat ears - tawny yellow, like a ginger kitty, with white fuzz on the inside - whiskers, and a long kitty tail (long-furred, so like )

He's wearing a simple black kimono ( with a white under kimono and a grey-black-and-white plaid obi (pardon if terms are off, it's been a long time)

What am I missing?
aldersprig: (KinkBingo2)
"Come back to me. Anton, come back to me."

The words swam into focus slowly. The boy squeezed his eyes more tightly closed. "N-n-nooaw."

"Yes, Anton." Her voice was soft, patient, but implacable. That was how she always was. "Come back to me, Anton O Gwydion. Wake up to yourself, Anton."

She was stroking him, running her hands through his fur - no, through his hair. The boy liked it when she petted him. It made everything feel a little more real. "No?" he tried again. This time, it came out as a word and not a meowl.

"That's my boy. How does your tail feel?"

"Gone." That was the saddest part of coming back. "Missing."

"There will be time for a tail again." Her hand rested at the small of his back. "How do your ears feel?"

"Inadequate." He jerked up one paw - hand, hand - to scratch at his short, round, naked ear. "Short."
Read more... )
aldersprig: (KinkBingo2)
He would never admit it if you asked, but Daxton found something relaxing about being chained up in the Red Queen's dungeon. There was regular, if boring, food, a nice hour of full sunlight every day, and the expectations were amazingly simple: all he had to to was continue to say "no" to the Red Queen, which wasn't as hard as she'd like to think it was, and the food would keep coming and the bucket-of-tepid-water-baths would keep him from stinking too bad for her royal nose.

It wasn't an ideal situation, of course, but Daxton had found that there were few situations in life that were ideal. Farmers were at the whim of the weather and the magic storms. Merchants were at the whim of their supply and the demand. Daxton was either at the whim of his Ducal father, or he was at the whim of the Red Queen.

The Red Queen had informed Daxton that his father had hired mercenaries to rescue him, and had then, rather cheerfully, told him every time they failed. Daxton had been Outraged Of Course and secretly a little bit relieved. It was thus with some dismay that he found his early-afternoon sunbath being interrupted by a few very quiet thuds from outside his cell door.
Read more... )

aldersprig: (LynKnitting)
1) Finish at least one project around the house.
2) Regularly empty the kitty litters
3) Equally regularly clean up the "snail trail" (as T. refers to it) of stuff left 'round the house (i.e., this morning it would be the charm box from my birthday-present charm)
4) Track food daily in myfitnesspal
5) get 30 minutes of exercise at least 3x/week.

Wish me luck!


aldersprig: an egyptian sandcat looking out of a terra-cotta pipe (Default)

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