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: (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: (lynSnow)
(see what I did there?)

Commissions are always available at the low, low rate of 2¢/word, with a minimum commission of $4/200 words.
$20 commissions and higher will be discounted to $5/300 words or 5/3¢ a word. Just because I always wanted to charge in fractions.

To commission a story, a piece of demifiction, or any other work of creative writing (even poems, I can do poems), sent me an email at thornealder/gmail, leave a comment on this post, or sent me a PM on Dreamwidth or Livejournal.

I reserve the right to turn down any commission, but will complete any commission I accept.

I take payments by Paypal (also thornealder/gmail), by paying-for-my-Dreamwidth-time, or other methods by negotiation.

I will begin work on your piece as soon as I receive payment. Commissioned works will be posted on my blog, here, when completed.


Don't want a commission, but want to say "thanks?"

Cool! I always appreciate tips, and they help to unlock extras - more posts on the serials, for instance.

There's Paypal, of course, but there's also Patreon: subscribe at any level from $1 to $50/month and open up incentive levels to get even more fiction!


And in conclusion, this is a conclusion.
aldersprig: (Briar)
After And We Are Not Monsters.

The girl called Rohanna did not take well to the collar.

Viatrix had sympathy for that. Nobody in their house had ever taken well to submission and, to the girl, they were the enemy. They had stolen her from her crew at hawthorn-point.

What she did not have was tolerance. "No." She knew she was getting sharp, and could not manage to soften her tone. "No, what did I say?"

Rohanna snarled. "If I washed the floor I didn't have to wash the dishes."

"Try again, little mage."
Read more... )
aldersprig: (Aldersprig Leaves Raining)
This is written as @inventrix's commissioned continuation of this drabble posted on the Addergoole Facebook (also the first ~100 words of this piece).

Luke folded his wings against his back and tried not to stare.

When Cynara had come to them, to Regine, saying “I built a school,” he hadn't know what to expect. Hell, when she'd started building the CITY, he hadn't know what he'd find.

What he saw was... children, and teens, moving from building to building, smiling, their grey-and-black-and-white uniforms adorned with splashes of color and their interactions adorned with what sounded like playful rivalry.

He'd come anticipating a mess to be dealt with, or a boot camp to be... handled.

He didn't quite know what to think about this.

~Read more... )


Next: Whilst at Doomsday...
aldersprig: (GIRAFFE!)
So, I got a lovely donation to the Giraffe Call to pay for two non-donors get get a 500-word continuation.

I rolled the dice, and the results are


(Drumroll please)


[personal profile] alexseanchai
and
[personal profile] thebonesofferalletters


Please collect your 500-word continuation at the customer service tent!

(drop me an email (thornealder/gmail), send me a PM, or comment on this post)
aldersprig: (Briar)
First in this story: Unwelcome Guests
Previous: The Clean-Up

1016 words, to Rix's commissioned continuation.


“Come.” Viatrix led the her new Kept into the back yard, murmuring what she thought of as “Addergoole Standard Kept Rules” as she went.

She didn’t look at the girl until they reached the stone circle that, in some other owner’s time, had been a back patio and outdoor kitchen. She didn’t need to; the way the orders were spun, there was little the girl could do.

When she reached the center of the circle, then, she turned. “Kneel.” A Word awoke the fire in the grill. “Give me your wrists.”

Her Kept did as she was told, although she was clearly fighting it. “Mistress... bitch.” She forced the word out with a snarl.

Viatrix found herself grinning. “Yes. Both of those. What name are you called?”
Read more... )

Next: There Are Always Choices.
aldersprig: (Briar)
First in this story: Unwelcome Guests
Previous: Kicking Out Unwelcome Guests

I have more planned, but this was a good stop point for this part. 673 words.


“Your target was never here.” Baram punctuated his sentence with a sharp kick to the bikers’ leader’s ribs. The woman grunted, and, on the other side of the field of battle, the nearly-dead tank made a pained noise.

Interesting.

Worry about it later. Baram picked up the boy. “This one stays with us. And your flamethrower.”

“Keep the girl, we need the boy.”
Read more... )
aldersprig: (Evangaline)
To [personal profile] lemon_badgeress's prompt.
After Family Uncle, which is
after Visit (Footnotes), which is
after Genre, which is
after Sidekick, and so on.


Everything about her uncle's body language changed. He looked at Evangaline again, as if confirming that she'd actually spoken, and then turned to stare at Rosaria. "You brought her here because of a nephew?"

"I brought her here." Rosaria had regained all her tartness. "Because she is an Aunt, because she deserves the mantle, unlike some, and because the family needs her understanding. She brought herself because of her nephew."

Eva wasn't sure if that was entirely true, but it made Willard smile. "Well. Pleased to meet you, niece. Aunt Evangaline, you said?"
Read more... )
aldersprig: (Evangaline)
To [personal profile] lemon_badgeress's prompt.
After Visit (Footnotes), which is
after Genre, which is
after Sidekick, and so on.


Evangaline followed her aunt through the gate, and down the gravel driveway.

She did not ask Rosaria about the power vibrating through the fence, or the lines of power in the driveway's bushy borders. She was fairly certain her aunt could see them - Rosaria, too, vibrated with power in a way that the family did not acknowledge - and just as certain that she would tell Eva to figure it out on her own.

She did not ask, either, about the tall man with grey hair who was approaching them. The power in the road recognized him; it if hadn't his chin line and the set of his shoulders would have given him away.

The waver in Rosaria's step would have, before anything else. Rosaria did not waver, ever. And yet she hesitated. "Willard?"

"Aunt Rosaria. And...?" The man's approach was faster than it had any right to be. And he was tall, in a way their family wasn't inclined towards. Evangaline had to look up, almost craning her neck, to look him in his deep green eyes.

The eyes reminded her of something, although she couldn't put her finger on just what. "I'm Evangaline. I am very likely your niece, although I might be your cousin. I'm Ardella's daughter."

http://aldersprig.livejournal.com/pics/catalog/1561/31708

"Family, then. And are you the Aunt Apparent, or has Asta finally given up the ghost?"

There was no point in being surprised; if she could sense the power, of course he could as well. "Asta passed on a few months back. I reside in the Aunt House now."

"And Rosaria is showing you the ropes, because Asta wouldn't have known a rope from a snake. Well, come on in. I suppose I count as part of the ropes, these days."

"Especially with my nephew Stone coming into his own." Evangaline aimed her words carefully. She was tired of being spoken over like an errant child.


there will be more; it's been commissioned. Of course, you could always commission MORE.
aldersprig: (Evangaline)
For [personal profile] kelkyag's prompt. After Genre, most recently. Yes, there will be more: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/543285.html

Aunt Rosaria had declaimed her declamation, and then she had fallen silent. Not just quiet - silent. Eva had to check three times to be sure her elderly relative was still breathing.

She'd tried to ask questions a few times, but Rosaria stopped her with a raised hand each time. Finally, Eva fell silent as well, focusing on the road. "Drive straight" was an easy enough direction to follow, after all. So she drove straight, and worried at the feeling "archetypes" left in her mind.

"Left at the stop sign." Rosaria's voice broke the silence. Eva jerked the wheel but caught herself quickly. "And then the first left. Stop at the gate."

Left, left, stop. Eva didn't answer. It didn't seem the time for unnecessary words, and, besides, her heart was in her throat. Left, at a stop sign holding down three cornfields and a wheat field. Left, into a gravel driveway that went two car-lengths before stopping at a high iron gate.

Iron. Eva stopped the car, turned it off, and tilted her head to Rosaria. Now what?

"Use your words, Evangaline. Now we wait. Willard will either come get us, or he won't. If he doesn't, we leave him a message. If he does - well, then, you are educated further on what it means to be of this family. Something Asta sorely neglect-"

The gate swung open.

"Very good. We walk, of course. Don't bother locking the car." Rosaria swung out of her seat. "Well? Come on."
aldersprig: (Evangaline)
To [personal profile] kelkyag's commissioned continuation of Sidekick. For the complete story, see here.

The Aunt Family has a landing page here.


"Tragic." Eva was finding her voice, although it was taking effort. "Aunt Rosaria, what are you talking about? There's nothing tragic about Uncle Arges, unless you mean those horrid Hawaiian shirts. And who's Willard?" She flapped her hand. "I know that Willard is Aunt Ramona's son. And I think you've said that he's like Stone, or he was, but he left the family. I didn't know people could leave the family." She frowned. "Aunt Rosaria, I don't normally sound this silly."

Her aunt patted her leg. "I know, dear. Believe me, I really do. I remember when my aunts had this effect on me. It's as if you are feeling the whole weight of the family staring down at you from one old lady, isn't it?"

"I wouldn't have put it quite that way..."
Read more... )
aldersprig: (Evangaline)
This is [personal profile] rix_scaedu's commissioned continuation of:
Intimately Involved (LJ) and
Precedent (LJ)



"Oh?" The other women turned as one towards Hessa. Hessa, in her own turn, had shaded towards a sickly pale green color.

Deborah found both of her hands going over her stomach protectively. "What is it, Hessa?"

"I think I found something out. I think I found another time it happened." She smoothed the pages with both hands. "I think it happened to great-great-great-Aunt Pearl."

"Great-great-great..." Deborah counted on her fingers. "That was the one who... vanished, isn't it? Her diaries went missing with her."
Read more... )
aldersprig: (nano winner 2012)
This is for [personal profile] rix_scaedu's commissioned continuation of The Norm, from the October Giraffe Call.
The secretary was really quite cute. More importantly, and possible more unfortunately, she was bright. She caught the pun, there.

“And are you?”

“I can be. Certainly more people have called me that.”

“Well, there are worse things to be.” She looked me over. Again. I wondered what she was seeing, what she was looking for. How bad it would end up being for me – and thus for her. “You know, for all the five-ten, eyes of brown, you don’t look middle-of-the-road.”

She wanted to play. Oh, dear. “Well, the Median isn’t always the same as the Mean.”

“And neither are the same as the Norm, are they… Norm? After all, the Norm and the average aren’t the same thing. So, are you normal, then? Norm?”
Read more... )
aldersprig: (Aldersprig Leaves Raining)
This is for [personal profile] lilfluff's commissioned request for a continuation of this story.

Davyn was quiet. Good puppies were quiet.

Good puppies were also lost, squished, and confused, not to mention terrified. He couldn't completly stop himself from whining, a terrified little noise at the back of his throat. As long as he didn't get too loud, the pain didn't come again.

Even without the punitive jolts of pain, his situation pretty much sucked. The kennel he'd locked himself into was upended, leaving him mushed into the bottom, leaned against some sort of cart, rolling...

...well, he really didn't know where they were going, which was more than half of the problem.

He curled up the best he could in the tight space, nose to knees, and tried not to cry. Not only was crying loud, maybe loud enough to get zapped again, it was embarrassing. He was sixteen, not a kid anymore. Adults didn't go crying like that. Even if they were trapped.
Read more... )
aldersprig: a woman's wrists in handcuffs (cuffs)
From [personal profile] rix_scaedu's commissioned prompt. This comes directly in order with the rest of the Black House story (see tag), the same day as First Day of Work.

Content warnings: d/s and sexual content.


If her Master gave her a reference when her time with him was through, Pretty/Yaminah would have more than earned it. Being his executive assistant was an exhausting and exhaustive position, as much so, if not more, than any position she’d taken for him in his private rooms. Doing it backwards and in heels, the bones of her corset and the tightness of her skirt never letting her forget who she was, that almost made it easier. At least the armor and the prison of her suit kept her upright, never faltering, never flinching. She needed that.

Her Kraken, her Master, treasured her, and, even if she had not arrived in the same car as him, that was quickly apparent to all others in the office. That, of course, came with at least three flavors of jealousy from all sides: those who wanted to be in her Master’s bed (or had been), those who would not go that far but envied her the status it clearly gave her (without understanding, of course, what it took her to earn it) and wanted the Master’s eye for more professional pursuits, and those who envied her Master because he had her.
Read more... )
aldersprig: (City)
For [livejournal.com profile] flofx's Commissioned Continuation of Eggshells and Lineman's Hopes.

Long before Guarding the Church and referencing Strange Neighbors.


He came around the Stanton Arms and the park like he owned the area, walking in with a swagger like he was the strongest guy in the place.

Tia Lian hated him immediately. This was her street, her neighborhood. She didn't need some big sleek guy with slicked back hair and a shiny smile coming in. She didn't need no fairy who screamed fey from every line of his body to take over when she was just sort-of-fey-around-the-edges. She didn't need him.

So she ignored him, while the others flooded around him. "Who are you? What are you doing here? Where are you from?"

And he just smiled.
Read more... )
aldersprig: a close up of an alder leaf (Leaf)
For [personal profile] imaginaryfiend's commissioned continuation of Returned Paradox

I was born to death.

I was born to the memory of a dead woman, forty weeks to the day after Paradox Maverick died, and I was told so, in whispers and glances and blasted macaroni and cheese on my birthday every year. I was born, it seemed when I was younger, to echo her back to my mother’s companions, to look like her in every way I could.

Sometimes I think that she did it on purpose, Paradox, tinkered with my genetics in the womb to put them off the scent, as it were, to make them keep looking in the wrong place and never think to look where they should have. I wonder, if she did that, if she had any idea how well she would succeed?

Here I am, now, exactly what they created, exactly what I created, and not what they would have had me be. Nothing, nothing, I might add, like Paradox Maverick, may she rot in a cold cell in the darkest corner of Hell.
Read more... )
aldersprig: (City)
For [livejournal.com profile] flofx's commissioned prompt, a continuation of Re-Blessing the Church, Guarding the Church (LJ), and Reaching out to the Congregation.

"There are fairies in your church."

Bishop Macnamilla was of an older school of thought, practically antediluvian. Most of the time, Father Nehemiah avoided conflict by avoiding the Ninth Street house where the Bishop kept his residence. The Father's church was new, and not entirely conventional, and not near Ninth Street, and the Bishop's body as well as his mind were old, and did not move easily.

But someone had said something, the Father was certain. The jowls on the Bishop were shaking in the way the once-fat man only did when he had been being yelled at by a parishioner who Didn't Like Something. Probably not one of Nehemiah's regulars. But sometimes the gossips from the other churches liked to stop in and visit.
Read more... )

A href="http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/665806.html">The Church in the Park
aldersprig: (GIRAFFE!)
For [livejournal.com profile] rix_scaedu's Commissioned continuation.

Addergoole has a landing pagehere.

After Cursed.


Barypos ended. Ended, in a way he had never imagined possible, Ended, Name and name and soul and memories. He ended in a twist of pain and a gut-punch, air lost, while the world burned around him.

He dreamt of death, of spears, of the lamentations and screams of women following him through the years. He dreamt of blood and pain, and of fire, and more fire, and more.

When he awoke, Barypos was gone. He woke to consciousness of a sort, remembering nothing but pain and fire.
Read more... )
aldersprig: (GIRAFFE!)
For [livejournal.com profile] fflox's commissioned continuation of First Wind.

Yilly was falling, dropping like a rock, every attempt of his to fly, to find the air, falling, failing, freaking out. He had always been going to learn the feel, going to try the short drops with his high-level classmates, but there'd always been something more interesting, something more fun. Now there wasn't any more time, and he was dropping from the high levels, right down to the flood zone and the river.

And then, there were his friends, his crawling-in-the-catacombs and splashing-in-the-river and staying-up-dancing friends, and there they were, just below him. Yilly cupped air and tried to slow himself. He didn't want to hurt them, didn't want to bring them down with them. But they were getting closer, closer. Mirro and Tanny swooped under Yilly and came up under him, grabbing his hands, pulling him up into a wind with them, while Lonoll did something complicated so she was standing up, looking Yilly in the face.

"Feel the air, Yill-ne-yill, find it in your face and your vents. Right there, right... there."
Read more... )
aldersprig: (BookGlasses)
This story contains magic and references to Addergoole but no slavery, sex, or violence.

For [livejournal.com profile] rix_scaedu's Commissioned Prompt.

Faerie Apocalypse has a landing page here here (and on LJ).

After These Walls Can Talk, Housewarming, and As Safe as Houses

Dodger is from When the Gods Attacked..


Read more... )
aldersprig: a woman's face and neck, a chain wrapped round her neck (kinkbingo)
After Problem-Solving, for [livejournal.com profile] rix_scaedu's commissioned continuation.


Fuchsia had never expected things with Pepper to improve overnight. It was a good thing, too, because they were doing anything but.

They were - kind of - getting better. He'd pulled back some of the worst of the orders, enough to let her help him when the nightmares were bad. He still wouldn't talk to her about it, and he still wouldn't talk about it with her - but he was visiting Mendosa regularly, three times a week. Every visit left him exhausted, drooping, quiet, withdrawn. But, for a short time afterwards – later that day, and for part of the next day – he’d be improved, relaxed, acting like what Fuchsia thought was probably his real self.

Weeks went by that way, tiny steps of progress, with her marking every smile, every night without a nightmare, every time he could joke with her or his friends without flipping out. The time he let her fix his tie for him was a major victory; the time he threw out dinner a minor setback. They were getting somewhere.
Read more... )
aldersprig: (City)
For [livejournal.com profile] flofx's second prompt.

Long before Guarding the Church and referencing Strange Neighbors.




Tia Lian was born, as her kind were, in an eggshell watered with the tears of an unmarried woman and fertilized with the hopes of an unemployed man.

Or so she liked to tell people... and in her childhood, she was so small, so clearly fay, so touched by the other, that people tended to believe her.

The truth might have been more prosaic, but it was no less magical. Born to a fairy mother in the doorway of the Stanton Arms, gotten on that mother by a goblin line worker who couldn't find work (the unions were going through an era, back then, where they didn't like the fay), left on the doorstep of a church and from there taken to an orphanage, Tia was a midsummer baby, touched in magic and born in the mundane.
Read more... )
aldersprig: (Aldersprig Leaves Raining)
For [livejournal.com profile] flofx's Commissioned Prompt. Fairy Town does not yet have a landing page.

After "Spring"


Anton Barren moved slowly in front of his students. "Fade, look around. Do you see a doorway?"

"None." He was back to sounding bored. That was good. Anton didn't want the girls to freak out. He didn't want Fade to freak out, either... or himself.

"How about an arch or a gate?"

"Over there." That was Lilah, bouncing a bit. "Mr. Barren, what's going on? Why are the animals looking at us?"

"I chose an imperfect time to bring us here." He had chosen an imperfect locale, more accurately, hoping for a small amount of danger to shake them out of their complacency. This was not going to be a small amount of danger, not if the Animals were looking at them the way it seemed they were.

He focused his sight. He could see their shadows, if he looked hard enough. There would be a cost. But he would pay it. He always did.
Read more... )
aldersprig: a close up of an alder leaf (Leaf)
AfterHousewarming, from [livejournal.com profile] stryck's commissioned prompt. Dodger is from When the Gods Attacked..


"We need a place to stay."

"We don't need a place that talks to us."

"Better than a place that bites us. Or a place where the other people stab us." They were keeping their voices at a low hiss, hoping that Bethseda was busily distracted talking to Sana and her children about her garden.

"What's to say she won't start biting?"
Read more... )
aldersprig: (DragonBaby)
After this story, this story, this story, this story (LJ), and this story (LJ), from [personal profile] kelkyag's commissioned prompt.


The catch had been so close, so damned close. Orin had practically had his hands on the kid.

She wasn't the most expensive kid in the neighborhood, but that's because she lived next door to dragons and down the road from pixies, harpies, and centaurs. She was, however, the priciest kid per ounce and risk factor, at least in this city.
Read more... )
aldersprig: a close up of an alder leaf (Leaf)
For Friendly Anon's commissioned prompt, after Up Shit Creek (LJ), Shit Keeps Coming (LJ), and Shit, Fan (LJ)

Fae Apoc has a landing page here on DW and here on LJ.


He knew how to use the sword. He'd been practicing since he was old enough to hold one, and with a wooden sword not all that different from this one - except his had been pine and then apple-wood, not, as he hoped this one was, rowan.

Knowing how to hold the thing probably saved his life, or at least his virtue. These creatures were nasty, violent, and far rougher and stronger than anything Pyry had ever seen, much less fought.
Read more... )
aldersprig: an egyptian sandcat looking out of a terra-cotta pipe (Ceinwen)
For [livejournal.com profile] rix_scaedu's commissioned prompt.

Comes after Consequences by at least a few days
.

"I don't know what to do," Thorburn grumbled into his beer. "I feel like a bull in a china shop."

"Tell me about it." Basalt downed his own drink. "Or don't. I think I finally figured out Ahouva, but it took some doing. She agreed to date me."

"Agreed..." Thorburn set down his glass carefully. They'd been drinking for a while; he wasn't sure how long anymore. "You Own her, Basalt."

"And Kendon Owned her, and that didn't make what he did any better. He nearly ruined her."
Read more... )
aldersprig: (Evangaline)
For [personal profile] kelkyag's commissioned prompt.

After Heroes (LJ) and Visiting the Family (LJ)

The Aunt Family has a landing page here on DW and here on LJ.


"Were you taught about the archetypes?"

It wasn't the question Evangaline had been expecting; it segued out of left field while she was still pondering the implications of someone leaving their family, of a son leaving the family.

"The tarot?" she offered, while she tried to remember things Asta and the others had mentioned to her. The archetypes, the archetypes... "No, no, not the tarot, but sometimes it seems similar. Something about the stories? Aunt Asta mentioned them, but she didn't..."
Read more... )
More: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/534069.html
The whole story: http://lynthornealder.com/fiction/aunt-family
aldersprig: an egyptian sandcat looking out of a terra-cotta pipe (wineandroses)
For Friendly Anon's commissioned continuation of Twelve Roses and One

She'd heard the story her whole life. The rosebushes, the crazy Aunt that nobody wanted to admit was theirs, the twelve pink blossoms that got brighter for each daughter, the "true gift" they were supposed to receive on their sixteenth birthday.

She knew, too, that her parents had planned on stopping at four kids, or stopping after Harold, or stopping at any point that wasn't almost-to-thirteen-children. She was fairly certain the gift had power... and she had known from a very young age that one ignore fairy gifts at one's own peril.

So it was no surprise to her, or to the next three sisters down, when, on the dawn of her birthday, Alicia walked out to the rosebush and snipped the rose that her parents had always called "her rose."
Read more... )
aldersprig: (Aldersprig Leaves Raining)
For [livejournal.com profile] rix_scaedu's commissioned continuation of Damn List (LJ), All You Can Be (LJ), and Detente (LJ)

Addergoole has a landing page here.

Does anyone have any suggestions for Ahouva's Changes? Or, for that matter, Jovanna's?

"So." Aeowyn and Jovanna sat down to either side of Ahouva in English class. "Kendon looks miserable." Her snakelike friend was showing way too much tooth for comfort.

"More importantly." Jovanna closed in Ahouva in a flurry of excess skirt. "You look happy. Smiling, for real. Your color's back. You're smiling again."
Read more... )
aldersprig: (Rin)
For [personal profile] kelkyag's commissioned prompt

This story comes after:Meat of the Matter (LJ)
Bare Bones (LJ) [Beta]
Skeleton Key (LJ) [donor perk] and Ambush (LJ)

Reiassan has a landing page here.



Rin hopped out of the window, but not so fast that she couldn't catch the expression on Girey's face. It made her smile, the sudden panic of being caught out, the further embarrassment at being thanked for it.
Read more... )
aldersprig: (Evangaline)
For [personal profile] jjhunter's commissioned Prompt.

A continuation of "Tell me a Story," (LJ), "Princesses, Knights, and the Huntsman" (LJ), The Princess and the Huntsman (LJ), and Princesses (LJ).

The Aunt Family has a landing page here on DW and here on LJ.


The princess had been the first painting Estebana, Adam, and Anselma had shown Rosaria, first because many young girls dreamed of being princesses, first because, as Anselma had said, in her dry, always-amused voice, "this can be the most dangerous of the stories, for everyone involved. Remember that, Rosaria."
Read more... )
aldersprig: (Rin)
For [personal profile] kelkyag's commissioned prompt.

Reiassan has a landing page here.

After Sun-on-the-Water (LJ)



“Sun-on-the-water?” Girey asked, when he was pretty sure they were alone.

“A marriage,” she answered in Bitrani, “between people of decidedly different statuses. Or an informal ‘marriage,’ the sort where you say you’re married when the children come, or after you’ve been living together for a while.”

“Your people have the strangest turns of speech.” He was clearly chewing over the implications, however. That was probably a good thing, right?

“Colorful,” she joked, “like everything here. The Bithrain have a few interesting idioms, too.”
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aldersprig: (Doorway to Clouds)
For [personal profile] rix_scaedu's commissioned prompt - more of "Birthday Present," from the December Giraffe Call.

Addergoole has a landing page here

Noam has a sketch here.




He didn't have any orders! There was nothing holding him from saying anything he wanted! Noam opened his mouth to tell Brenna exactly what he thought of "fun."

Except, of course, as far as he knew, there wasn't any way out of Belonging to someone except having them let you go. He closed his mouth again. Pissing her off was probably not what he wanted to do. He tugged at the ribbons a little more, though, just on principle.
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aldersprig: an egyptian sandcat looking out of a terra-cotta pipe (wineandroses)
For Friendly Anon's commissioned continuation of Tasting (LJ)

Liza's restaurant opened on the shore of Cayuga Lake, in a prime spot she'd gotten by luck and networking.

She opened on the first day of Spring, an unseasonably warm day with the sun shining brightly off the deep blue water and a few daffodils already in bloom. Her tables were dressed with crocuses and spring greens, and she garnished her plates with little bouquets of the first chives of spring.

And with every dinner that first day came a free glass of her prize wine, served by a sommelier who was grinning from ear to ear, pouring with perfect grace and managing to chat up the diners through that face-stretching smile.
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aldersprig: (Rin)
For [livejournal.com profile] rix_scaedu's commissioned prompt.

Reiassan has a landing page here.

After Navigating Lannamer (LJ.



Arinya kept her uncle pinned with her gaze. Did he know she’d heard him? Did it matter? Nothing he’d said had been specifically treasonous; indeed, he could say, and likely be honest in saying so, that he had been working for the well-being of the Empire.

He kept his gaze on her, but his eyes did flicker to Girey; she could see the moment when he made the connection. She couldn’t keep him hidden forever. She’d always known someone would recognize him. But now that she’d claimed his as her own, it would be harder for them to take him away from her.
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aldersprig: (Sylvie)
After So I've Started Out (LJ) and Porter Needs a Girlfriend (LJ), to Friendly Anon's commissioned prompt.

Addergoole has a landing page here and on LJ
.


She'd walked away the first time he'd brought it up. "The Bond takes away your choice," she'd said.

"So does not asking me," he'd retorted. She'd shook her head angrily, making him want to grovel and apologize, but all she'd said, maddeningly, was the same thing she always did:

"You do not understand."
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