Landing Page (in Progress): Faerie Apocalypse

The gods left this world thousands of years ago, but they left many of their descendants here on Earth.

Those children mated with humanity and with each other, hid in plain sight, and learned to use their magic without being found out,

In 2011, many of their children come crashing through the gates onto Earth and all of the rules changed again.

This setting is urban fantasy, apocalypse, post-apocalypse, and then rebuilding, depending on the era of the story.

Work in progress: This is my biggest setting, hands-down, and I expect the landing page to take quite a while to work out.

The Stories

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The Pibald Player

This is left over from Pi Day.  I had trouble wrapping it up, and in the end, I didn’t… quite get it wrapped up the way I wanted, but here it is. 

It’s in the greater world of Fae Apoc but has none of the standard warnings except – it IS set in a post-apoc and some of the people are kind of shitty people.


She called “pip-piperelle!” as she walked into the town, singing a wordless tune & strumming a pipa.  She was let in somehow, despite the fact that the town was shut down, not letting anyone in for fear they’d bring disease or pillaging, of which the town had had none but their neighboring towns’d suffered more than a little over the  last months.

(in the small parts of their hearts, in the privacy of their psyche, some of them knew that they had pillaged, and that meant they feared other pillagers even more.)

The world was falling apart; everyone knew that.  People were being assholes everywhere, being small and petty and, well, pillaging.  They were also dying of things that had not been a blip on the radar 2 years ago – plague and famine and fear and malnutrition.

And into this town, this barricaded town with no way in or out, this woman strode.

Her skin was piebald, marked here and there with shapes like clouds, paler than her brown skin, in places pure white.  Her outfit was likewise piebald, a tie-dye tunic flowing down to her thighs and batik-patterned leggings covering her legs.  Her hair was pulled back from her face in two puffball-like pigtails to better show off the markings that speckled her, and the tunic was low-cut and sleeveless.

“I can fix your crops,” she told them.  “I can make them happier; I can make them better.  I can sing to them and they’ll grow.” Continue reading

Purchase Negotiation 37 – Don’t Let Her Get Hurt

First: Purchased: Negotiation


Don’t let her get hurt.  That meant Leander had to get her out of the line of fire.  Five of them. One of him. 

He ducked his head, took a second like he was really considering it, and pushed all the force he had into making a sort of dimple in the brick wall just big enough to hold Sylviane.  

He’d been talking fast, but it was still not fast enough. One of the goons grabbed his shoulder.

He shoved backwards at the same time he grabbed the gun, twisting it away. He shoved that goon hard into the next one and kicked out towards the third. 

Then it was target, hit, repeat, target, hit, repeat. The guns went away, the goons went into the wall, he kicked one and punched another and didn’t even pause before he hit the girl, grabbed one last gun before it could aim Sylviane’s way –  Continue reading

Purchase Negotiation 36 – Harriman Hall

First: Purchased: Negotiation


The girl in the ridiculous outfit was turning slowly around, pointing as she explained that she had tried everything.  “-but nothing seems to be Harriman Hall…?”

“Oh, sure, it’s right over here.”  Sylviane gestured behind her, directing the girl towards a little alleyway between the buildings.  The girl wasn’t getting it; she repeated Sylviane’s directions back to her, but she had them all wrong.  “Okay, why don’t we walk you there, how’s that?”

The girl shot a nervous look at Leander.  He knew that expression; he was not a small guy, and he could seem a little threatening.  He took a step back and held up his hands.  

Sylviane, however, was having none of that, which was useful, he supposed, since he couldn’t really leave her and following thirty feet behind would only be creepier.  “What? He’s my boyfriend.” She took one of Leander’s hands. “He’s a sweetheart, I assure you.  Now, if you want to get to Harriman, you pretty much either need to go this way -” She started walking; Leander followed, of course.  After a moment, so did the girl.  Continue reading

Purchase Negotiation 35 – Book Depository

First: Purchased: Negotiation


In the end, they wandered aimlessly – or at her aim – around the campus for two hours while Leander learned a whole bunch of things he thought he’d never remember.  He also noticed where he’d put himself if he was a sniper, the bottlenecks where he didn’t want to get caught with her if there was a problem, the places they could take shelter and set up defenses if someone came after her. 

At one point, she noticed where his gaze was.  She pointed up at the bell tower nearby. “That’s completely accessible.  You need a university pass, but that’s it. Pretty sure my father does a Forces shield around it every time he’s on campus, and he might renew it when I’m not looking.” 

She twisted her face, but Leander nodded approvingly.  “It’s a good idea. It’s not just your hide he’d be protecting, either,” he added gently.  “If someone does come after you, they might not care about collateral damage.  They might want it…” He trailed off.  “Tell me about this SpringFest?”

So she did, although she kept glancing back at him, like she was considering what he’d said.   Continue reading

Purchase Negotiation 34: Not a Drop

First: Purchased: Negotiation


It might have been a dumb joke, but Inka giggled, at least.  “Oh! Well, no, girls are jerks too, I don’t think … oh, that’s cute though.”  She giggled a little more, and Leander felt less stupid. Maybe not all Sylviane’s friends would be hard to deal with.  “Oh, no, I’ve utterly lost the thread of the conversation.”

“She does that,” Ripley assured Leander.  “Not just when she’s drinking her weight in tequila, either; watch out, when these two go out drinking, it can get kinda of messy, and not just the way they shut down the boys that are interested. Although that,” he grinned, “that is a murder by burn sort of scene.  Inka burns and Sylvie freezes them out and then they swap out,  it’s amazing.”

Leander found himself smiling back.  “I can’t wait ’till I can see that.”

“Oh, and you will.  Once classes get started, it’s usually every Friday night-“ Continue reading

Purchase Negotiation 33: Mars

First: Purchased: Negotiation


It was going to take a lot more than an hour to walk around campus.  

It might take more than an hour to get around a single “quad,” the way Sylviane walked, which was to stop and point at something, tell him a story, and then move four feet to something else. 

On the other hand, Leander really didn’t mind.  He was learning about her more than the campus, sure, but she was, in the long run, a lot more important than just a bunch of buildings. 

“Oh, here.”  She flushed. He glanced at her curiously and waited. “Oh-” She noticed he was waiting. “Nothing, it’s just-“

“A bench.”  He read the inscription on the brass plaque – it wasn’t her name, wasn’t anyone whose name he recognized, and they’d been class of 1920, so probably not someone she knew personally – well, not a human she knew personally, he corrected.  Could be a fae. Could even be her mentor. 

“I had my first kiss with – with someone I really liked for a while – right here on this bench.” Continue reading

The Mind

The problem with half-breeds, the document read, is that they are ill-equipped to the longevity of the fae. Humanity are meant to be short-lived, and their minds and their spirits thus best survive in a more natural lifespan — sixty to eighty years, perhaps a hundred at the outside. The half-breeds are similarly equipped, being closer to humanity than to the gods who are our ancestors. At a certain point, the half-breeds simply stop forming memories correctly; their brains are full and they can no longer process new information.

It had been hailed as a piece of scientific truth for over two centuries among the Grigori, but to Regine, it read no more accurately than any other piece of pseudo-science racism of its era. Why were human brains and half-breed brains ill-equipped to longevity? What, other than the same grasp of genetics that called a panda a bear because it was roly-poly and shared a certain similarity of shape with Ursus, suggested that half-breeds were further from the ancestor-fae? And for that matter, who had reference that told anyone what the ancestor-fae were, or how specific traits which came to be equated with each of the pure-blood breeds were related to those ancestor-fae? Continue reading

The Spoils Coffeeshop AU

This is 100% Lilfluff’s fault and probably won’t go any further.

“The Mountain is following us, I swear.”

Aran wiped down the espresso machine for the third time. He’d been like for days, ever since the coffee chain The Mountain had opened their nearest branch down the road from them.

They were still plenty busy; they hadn’t — yet — seen an appreciable dip in business. The Mountain couldn’t do baked goods like they did, and they didn‘t do personal service and comfortable atmosphere the way they did.

(Personal service was a bit of a thing for them…)

Still, every time they had a lull, Aran started getting nervous. Continue reading

Purchase Negotiation 32: Choices & Decisions

First: Purchased: Negotiation


“When you put it like that,” Sylviane repeated, while Leander’s mouth was full, “I really want to… I don’t know, change the world.  A lot.”

He blinked at her and wished he hadn’t filled his mouth up with sticky cheese. 

“So everyone, I think… everyone ought to have good food, a warm and comfortable place to sleep, indoor plumbing, clothes that fit, comfortable shoes, and an education.  Everyone. So if there are people not getting that – which obviously there are – then I want to fix that.”

He swallowed and gulped some soda.  “Like… slave’s rights reform? Or like, uh. Um. Helping people in the inner cities, or on other continents, or -“

“All of it.  Every bit of it.  I mean, okay, that’s going to take a few years.”  She ducked her head. “But maybe there’s a way. I mean, make money, figure out how to make it into more money, and then spend a large portion of it making sure people have a place to sleep and warm shoes on their feet.  And then, on the side, working with other Shener…”

She trailed off and looked at Leander. His stomach suddenly felt leaden.  

“The people who did this to you…” Continue reading

Spoils of War 30: And Then

First: Spoils of War I: Surrender


“I’m your man,” Aran repeated slowly.  Good.” He held her hips more tightly. “I like that.  Being your man.” He lifted up his head and kissed her back fiercely. “Didn’t think I would,” he admitted.  “But you did save my life and all.  Twice now, at least.” He bucked his hips up in suggestion. 

She pressed her hand on his chest, just to see what he’d do; he sank back to the bed.  She grinned at him as she kissed him again. “And here I thought third time was the charm.”

“That’ll be when we fight the Mountain and win.  Maybe-“

She occupied his mouth with another kiss.  “Later.” Continue reading