Heads Up, Seven Up

I was tagged quite a while ago by @space-cadead (ty!). I wrote a little something yesterday and thought I'd share it.

It was the creature who moved Valeria's extended palms to the wounded face of her kneeling husband. It pressed a thumb on the half-formed bruise of his jaw, ripping a pained wince through his stubborn clenched teeth.

Burrowed deep inside the confines of her own flesh, Valeria witnessed how each wound slowly matured under the touch of the wrinkled hands that no longer obeyed her, its bruise chaning colour and healing at an impossibly rapid pace.

With a pang of muted horror she felt her own lips move; shaped by a hallowed voice, her mouth spoke in a willfully forgotten mother tongue filled of glacial contempt.

"You are insignificant," Valeria understood, against all odds. "Do you not see the vast gulf between your limited self, and the extraordinary creature who married you? Can't you see each and every way in which she surpasses you? No," it added, "you can. You see it. It makes you aware of just how small you truly are. That knowledge has infected you, and all you want is to make her suffer for it. Make her as sick as you are. Make her pay."

Each word plucked from deep inside her throat was pronounced with growing rage. Valeria could feel the ground shake through the bare soles of her feet. The angel had finished healing her stranged husband, and now it loomed over his awed form with a deceptively calm exterior that did not match the tumult within.

"We won't let you do that to us," they proclamed, with the force of divine revelation.

tagging: @asablehart @nectargrapes @missbrunettebarbie-writer @flowerprose @westcountrygothic @monstrousfreedom @tragicbackstoryenjoyer @pinespittinink @starry-sky-stuff (no pressure). And feel free to do your own if you feel like it.

taglist (send an ask to be added/removed): @thebluesthourcommunity

You are the hated bastard child of the Imperial Family of the Hwaryeon Empire. 'Cursed' since birth, everyone only spoke of your name in fear and disgust.

Well, you were...Until you 'died' two years ago.

Now, you've returned as an experienced, renowned exorcist, on your way to save your (used-to-be) kingdom from the upcoming peril.

Will you let go of the past and forgive your people for their past misdeeds? Or will you watch as your kingdom falls at the impending doom?

Customize your MC: name, gender, appearance, personality, and more.

4 romance options; all of which are gender selectable.

Save your people...Or watch them grovel at your feet for forgiveness. It’s up to you.

Demo  |  Masterlist  |  Character Portraits

Lee Do Hyun (M/F) The Spouse

The cunning first child of a well-known merchant family. They first met you when you were still a powerless nobody, and they were the one who raised you to be the person you are today. They were the one to provide your position on the throne, yet the person to pull you to your demise. Oh, and did I mention they are your ex-spouse?

Baek Yeon (M/F) The Guard

A skilled swords(wo)man that was unfortunately appointed to become your personal guard since young. They 've known you since childhood and has always stood up for your honor. No matter what others say about you, they've remained fiercely loyal to you. Even through all the hardships, the gentle smile and kind eyes they show you never seemed to change. Perhaps those kind eyes hold a deeper depth of affection than you might've expected.

Haram (M/F) The Mystery

A demon that was subjected to hate ever since their birth. They've been searching for ways to be loved and to feel love, yet every person they turn to for guidance only seem to be set out to kill them. Eventually, they've come to the conclusion that the only way that they'd be able to achieve their goal is to become human, but their determination seems to get replaced with conflicting emotions whenever they see you.

Hwang Yi Rang (M/F) The Friend

An orphaned child who, in the end, grew up to become an experienced exorcist. They also happen to be the person who happened to find you after your 'death' and the person you trained alongside under the same mentor. They've first approached you with an open mind and cheerful grin, paying no attention to the rumors of you, and ever since then, you two eventually grew to become the best exorcist duo within the nation.

Embark on a captivating journey as you assume the identity of Birbal, a brilliant prodigy, and immerse yourself in the enigmatic realm of the Mughal Empire. Behold a world thrown into chaos following the demise of Emperor Humayun, as a mere 14-year-old Akbar inherits the illustrious throne. Your choices shall shape the destiny of this young monarch, as you aid him in becoming the legendary emperor he's destined to be, or plunge the empire into turmoil by orchestrating a web of subversion and deceit. The power to shape an empire lies within your hands.

Amidst a cast of colorful characters, tread cautiously as you determine which souls can be deemed trustworthy, while remaining ever vigilant for those who may, with a swift and treacherous strike, plunge a dagger deep into your unsuspecting back. In this enthralling tale of loyalty and betrayal, the art of discerning friend from foe becomes your most vital survival skill. Make allies, face challenges and uncover hidden secrets. Just as internal conflict reaches a boiling point, the walls of the royal palace begin to tremble, beckoning you take a stance. Whose side will you embrace?

Empire of Pearls: A Mughal Tale is an interactive story inspired by historical events. It is set at the beginning of Abu'l-Fath Jalal-ud-din Muhammad Akbar's reign as the youngest-ever Mughal Emperor where you play as his most trusted advisor and friend, Birbal. This reimagined work is entirely text-based and your choices help shape Birbal's personality, skills, relationship with others, and of course the fate of the Empire.

Content warning: This game explores dark themes such as abuse, bullying, manipulation, use of drugs and alcohol, blood, gore, violence etc. and is strictly rated 18+. Besides that more in depth warnings will be provided before each chapter and certain trigger points can be turned off completely at the start of the game.

Demo | Character Appearances | Tags | FAQ |

Play as male or female and choose your real name and sexuality.

Customize your appearance and personality.

Choose one of three different backgrounds that will impact your reputation and relationships:

A noble possessing a remarkable talent, invited to join the court by Emperor Humayun himself; a child of a maid serving a powerful military commander, hired on the recommendation of the commander or a street urchin caught stealing from the royal palace, rewarded with a place in the elite circle owing to the incredible feat.

Romance any of the five different love interests or not. Friendship is always an option.

Be a part of an elite group of courtiers serving none other than Emperor Akbar and shape the fate of the Empire.

Abu'l-Fath Jalal-ud-din Muhammad Akbar (he/him) 💕 : The newly crowned young emperor. Friendly and affable, the ruler has a tendency to be a bit impulsive at times. Despite his age he has been preparing for this role for years and doesn't seem at all nervous to be the new monarch. Akbar can be a powerful friend and an equally dangerous foe. How he perceives you vary depending on your background. A year younger than Birbal.

...........

Bairam Khan (he/him): A military commander and the most trusted ally of the throne until the death of Emperor Humayun. Since then he has been promoted to commander-in-chief, if that wasn't all he also happens to be Akbar's guardian, chief mentor and advisor. Bairam knows his way around the empire but can you actually trust this man?

...........

Ruqaiya Sultan Begum (she/her) 💕: An aloof but fiercely loyal woman and Akbar's first wife. Being cousins, neither of them ever saw each other as anything but friends. But Ruqaiya also hides a big secret, one that has her loathing herself. Will you able to form a deep enough connection to assist her in embracing her true self and breaking free from her constraints? A year younger than Birbal.

...........

Salima Sultan Begum (she/her): A strong and intelligible woman and Akbar's second wife. She feels heavily undervalued and undermined by the court which causes her to constantly act out and push the boundaries of what is acceptable for a woman. Though she sees Akbar as a friend, anything more than that with anyone is unfathomable to her. Two years younger than Birbal.

...........

Mahira Khan Mughal (she/her) 💕: A softspoken and timid young woman sold as a political pawn by her own father to become Akbar's third wife. Mahira longs for companionship and understanding which she can't find in the palace but you can fill that void in her life by secretly courting her or by providing the friendship she desperately craves. Two years younger than Birbal.

...........

Arslan Khan (he/him)💕: The son of Bairam Khan and another young prodigy, seemingly possessing supernatural powers and later becoming known as the legendary Mulla Do-Pyaza. With a mixture of rivalry and occasional bullying, he views Birbal as a formidable adversary. Arslan, driven by an insatiable desire for his father's approval, harbors a volatile temper that ignites at the mere mention of insults hurled towards his family. Peering beyond the myth, can you uncover the man within? A year older than Birbal.

...........

Nadeem/Nadia Mirza (opposite gender of Birbal) 💕: Birbal's betrothed and distant cousin of Akbar. A noble with a secret lover, N only accepted the marriage offer because it was arranged by commander-in-chief Bairam Khan himself and it was made obvious that refusal would not bear good consequences for their family. Can you form a connection with your betrothed despite the rocky start? Two years older than Birbal.

A moment of weakness can be a reminder of the people who lend you strength when your heart is hurting. 💔

Or, in the case of this scene, a reminder of that particular person who does!

Of Sense and Soul: A Queer Victorian Romance Game 💌 Follow our Kickstarter | Play our demo | Get our newsletter

🦄🩸🗡

[WIP - Upon Her Bloody Horn]

A unicorn takes on a human disguise to enact revenge against those who have hunted her kind to extinction, only to find herself caught in the middle of bloody kingdom politics and allured by the one-eyed hunter with whom she's a violent history with.

...

A quick intro for my 80s-inspired Elizabethan dark fantasy WIP with a sort-of-enemies-to-lovers subplot!🤭 Been so obsessed with this WIP yall!!

I comp it as "The Last Unicorn meets Legend (1985) meets Elizabeth: The Golden Age."

Almost done my novel research, I just need to get to the terror and the (justified) trial and execution of Marie Antoinette and Louis le incompetent <- I’m not saying his number he doesn’t deserve that.

Ah yes, the French revolution the most divisive event in history, my beloved.

Also... Robespierre was a saint compared to feudalism, monarchy and what Louis (and every French monarch before him) was doing to Haiti.

Marie Antoinette’s execution (from a French Revolution pamphlet).

Marie Antoinette on the way to her execution (Francois Fleming 1887).

NOW THEY CALL ME THE PLAGUE ⤳ a wip intro

As the fright death sweeps the land, leaving a trail of lifeless sacrifices, a Dream desperately claws their way back to the Dreaming, having spent eternity trapped in the conscious realm. The infestation’s merciless wake piques Trance’s macabre curiosity, spurred forth by his discovery of a ship that sails across the tumultuous currents of Nightmares and Dreams. They drag Eda, their retired-from-the-seas best friend, along with them as they set sail on the adventures of multiple lifetimes, unwittingly getting themselves irreversibly entwined with fates and forces far beyond their comprehension. Now They Call me the Plague is gothic historical fiction set against the backdrop of the golden age of piracy. All that remains to be seen is how many more will fall at the altar of an unforgiving death.

STATUS: drafting

GENRE: horror / historical fiction / fantasy / queernormative world

MEDIUM: novel

WARNINGS: substance (ab)use, alcohol, sexual activity (implied), swearing (moderate to heavy), mental health issues, death (will be modified as necessary)

LINKS: WIP tag (x) | Trance (x) | Eda (x)

CHARACTERS:

Eda Harp (she/her). Refuses to call coffee anything other than “bean juice”. Secretly has a soft spot for just about everything in the world, but is very careful about who she reveals that to.

Tahir Das (he/they). Was given the half-mocking nickname “Trance” by Eda due to his affinity for zoning out at a moment's notice, but they liked it and decided to go by it, much to the former’s annoyance.

Dee (she/they). Theoretically has a last name, but is just as cryptic about that as they are about what goes in their blends of spices and custom rum.

Tyler Mayne (she/her). Owns Smokey’s, the tavern at which Eda works, and, although will never admit to it, has something of a soft spot for her.

Joe Pines (he/him). Tyler’s husband and bartender at their tavern. The closest thing to psychic when it comes to predicting your drink order (it helps that pirates typically want rum).

Maya Lancali (she/her). Short for Shanaya, but use her full name, and whether she’s got a sword in her pants or is just happy to see you will become plenty clear.

general taglist (ask to be added/removed!): @caspersgraveyard @zephsthings @mrunmione @iftitah @cloudofbutterflies @impossible-ozzie-deactivated202 @kissitoff @jacquesfindswritingandadvice // newsletter

picture credits: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

any boosting would be much appreciated!

Violins and Violets - Series - WIP page

1784: Katharina Schmidt and her brother Hans grew up composing and performing music for royalty all over Europe. Now they are adults, only Hans is allowed to pursue his music, while Katharina's father tells her it's time to find a husband and settle down. Katharina's attempts to do as she's told only convince her that it's not what she wants to do, and she must decide how far she's willing to go to keep making music.

Hello, friends! It's been a minute since I updated the links on my blog, and I have just seen that I still have the "Beta Readers Wanted" post linked to the "Violins and Violets (WIP)" button... from the draft I finished and started querying in 2019 / 2020!

Things have... changed somewhat since then...

"Violins and Violets" is now a series, of (I expect) five books. None of them have titles yet, so I'm just referring to them as "Violins and Violets 1," etc. I thought it was time to make a new WIP page.

Book 1 tag - WIP page - first draft completed in December 2023, second draft in May 2024. (Earlier titled "Ladies Don't Write Music" - but this may be a better name for Book 2.)

Book 2 tag - first draft completed in January 2024, hoping to write second draft in June and July 2024.

Book 3 tag - early planning stages, hoping to create outline in October 2024, with a view to writing the first draft in November and December 2024. Hoping to redraft in 2025.

Book 4 tag - hoping to plan and draft in 2025.

Book 5 tag - hoping to plan and draft in 2025 or 2026.

Series tag - all posts made about "Violins and Violets" since I realised it needed to be a series, no matter what book I'm talking about.

Everything "Violins and Violets" - the whole story, right from the beginning, when I started writing the first draft of a single book for Camp NaNoWriMo in April 2018.

One-Shots - short stories that I've written for the "Violins and Violets" world.

"Vogeltje" - another novel that takes place in the same world, and features some of the same characters.

I'm trying to bring each book in somewhere around 75,000 words, taking three months to write a first draft, and two months for each subsequent draft. I find it easier to focus on the story proper when I write quickly and regularly, so when I have a draft on the go, I try to write every day. Between drafts, I am trying to take whole months off writing, so that I can rest my creative muscles, as it were.

You can follow my progress here on my writeblr, and on the NaNoWriMo website.

Characters:

Katharina Schmidt - musical prodigy and composer who performed for royalty as a child, but is no longer allowed, because she's a woman. Disguises herself as "Sebastien", and flees Salzburg to start a composing career in Prague

Hans Schmidt - brother of Katharina, who is also a musical prodigy and composer, but is allowed to pursue his music as an adult.

Franz Schmidt - solicitor; father of Katharina and Hans, who wants to see his daughter married well enough to put silly ideas of music out of her head.

Julia Schmidt - lady of leisure; mother of Katharina and Hans; wife of Franz, who loves to make tapestries and knitted garments; wants the best for her children and is willing to let Franz decide what this is.

Barbara Kirkmann - housemaid to the Schmidts, Katharina's closest friend and confidante.

Elisabeth Meyer - daughter of Franz' boss, Katharina's first "acceptable" friend, and the oldest sister of many siblings; keen to get married and start a life of her own.

Miléna von Tritten - Elisabeth's best friend, and daughter of one of the Meyer firm's wealthiest clients, Baron von Tritten; expected to marry a noble, but totally absorbed in Johann Schneider.

Johann Schneider - training to be a magistrate, under pressure to get married, but totally uninterested in... anyone? All the ladies want him; none of them can catch him. Absolutely tone-deaf, but loves to watch musicians play; friends with Katharina.

Louisa Schneider - Johann's younger sister, also tone-deaf, but keen to become a musician under Katharina's tutelage.

Magdalena Fialová - an opera singer who wants to get more young women into music; one of "Sebastien's" first and best friends in Prague.

Miklós Kovács - a fellow violinist who persuades the management of the Malá Strana Opera House to give "Sebastien" an audition. Best friend of Magdalena, and very close with "Sebastien".

Background:

Yes, Katharina Schmidt is based on Maria Anna "Nannerl" Mozart, who deserved a much better life than she got. I have always wondered what would have happened if she had defied her father when he told her to stop composing. Would she have known as much fame as her brother?

Yes, Katharina Schmidt is a lesbian. That's because she's only based on a real person; she isn't actually Nannerl Mozart. I have no idea what Nannerl Mozart would have called herself, or how she felt, and I think it would be rude for me to try to guess. This part of Katharina's character is inspired less by history than by my own experiences and desire to see more representation of Queer people in historical fiction. (She's not the only person in the series who isn't straight! Who are the others? You'll have to read the books to find out... or just follow here; I'm yappy about it.)

Find The Word Tag

Thank you to @athenswrites for the tag! Even if its a month or so late!

Rules: find excerpts from your work(s)-in-progress with the given words, then tag some friends to play along.

My words: Seed, Glass, Contain(er), and Hands. Your words: Run(ing), blood, clear, and realization.

Softly tagging, with no pressure: @kaylinalexanderbooks @meerawrites @queerfox-tales @thestarsfightagainstusmyfriend @sunset-a-story

Excerpts are under the cut! They feature:

Hamilton being angsty over some seeds in TAI.

Two excerpts from IOD! Alex gets her hair cut with a sword, and punches a guy in the nose.

From TAI, Hamilton receiving some exciting news during a morning drill with his militia.

Seed

From The American Icarus: Volume I:

I chuckled and shrugged my shoulders, “Uncle, I am no gardener.” “A little dirt will not hurt you.” Taking hold of my hand, my uncle pulled me to sit next to him, pressing with his other hand a single seed into my free one. For being a merchant, he does know how to garden well. Looking down at the lone seed then in my hand, I noted its small size; how it was destined to by those most logical rules of nature grow into a large, towering, and beautiful tree. Yet if only planted into the dirt before me, upon that island. There would be nowhere else for the little seed to grow and find its place—that island was its place, and that such fact would be known in my implanting it into the dirt just below it. You are only confused because you have more than one path unlike this seed. Why are you analogizing a seed? Just… figure something out—but what? Why? What purpose would my choices have? Legacy, what does that really matter? Mama is… dead… nothing is to change that—but trying would at least—ugh! I let the seed fall at a speed possibly too fast into the dirt as a murmur escaped me, “I hate being indecisive.” Not hearing my murmur, but seeing my treatment of his seed, my uncle turned towards me, attending me with a expression of surprise. “What did the poor seedling do to you, dear child?” Reopen doors which I have not an idea of what to do with and of which cause me great confusion simply due to my being in a position which gives little opportunity to walk through them. “Nothing… sorry.” “’Tis alright, she’s just a seed—a beautiful tree will come no matter how hard you threw it into its dirt.” “Indeed, but it had to be this dirt?” Without much thought, I gestured towards the said dirt with the hand which had released the seed; it then unseen underneath the brown specks. Uncle James’ blue eyes shewed much confusion, “What is the matter with the dirt? You just said to me you’re no gardener, yet why is it you’re complaining about dirt? You get your hands dirty working for Mr. Cruger, do you not?” Glancing away from my uncle, I sighed, the entertainment of those most interesting of passerby not as such in that moment. I was grateful for my job, and the life thereat I had lived, but particulars of the whole left me in a state of boundless confusion. My mother had only come to that island on account of my father’s business then as a sailor whom had in reasons I alongside many are still left to speculate, this having left my mother to raise her two children alone with aid of her family at which point she had died, leaving those said children otherwise orphaned and a family history tainted in scandal, fear and cover from the law, and known to all—even those whose knowledge of it was a national curse. All these particulars considered on the whole left me to question my very reasonings to having thought of them. I was at a fork in the road—continue to trek onward and stay where I was in security albeit really very little, or be one Orpheus and turn; changing everything with a most simple action in theory.

Glass

From Ink of Destruction:

Then my composure shattered like falling glass. My bones flared with anger as my eyes grew dark, becoming ablaze with wrath that seemed to burst out like a clown jumping out of a sewer. I could feel my feet guiding my body forward and my arm moving back as though it were a slingshot. Without a word, I punched Aiden Edwards square in the nose. Hearing a loud crack as I pulled away, I couldn’t help but feel the smallest bit of pride in my anger. Backing away with a cry of agony, Aiden reached for his nose, clutching his face in his hands as he felt for the blood that was now trickling down his cheeks. “What the hell was that for? You fucking broke my nose!?” he cried as he attempted to tend to the injury. "Oh, you should know what it was for, Aiden,” I said, feeling the sternness in my voice return. Before he could respond, I turned towards Jess, who immediately took a step back, feeling the full force of the wrath in my gaze. A part of my mind felt as though the action were justified, for Jess had betrayed me, or rather, she had been against me this whole time. A spy.

Contain

From The American Icarus: Volume I:

“You may all be relieved of your duties for today,” began he. “Good work today—thank you for not causing a racket. Pick up your target boards—bring them to Lieutenant Jay here.” As many a “Yes, sir!” filled the air, I returned to my right, walking towards the wooden board I had been left to use moments before. At last closing the distance of some yards, my hand wrapped around the top of the thick oak, it pressing firmly against my skin. Able to clearly see the damage done upon it by me, I noted the large clean-cut gashes, placed fairly close together, the three each having carved a hole. Upon the grass behind, in shadow of the secondary wooden piece propping the main board up, wood shavings covered the space; the balls of lead somewhere in the grass far beyond. Keeping the board steady within my grasp, as to not harm myself by way of the loose pieces, I turned in the direction of the chapel. A soreness began to rise upon my upper back as the board and my musket knocked on occasion my sides in my hurried walking, pushing me to grunt in frustration. If not for the barrel of the musket still hot and in need of cleaning, I would have slung her upon my back in quickening my pace. The wood of her barrel grazed my shoulder with the brush of a close fire, intense such that as I at last met Lieutenant Jay’s gaze I flinched. “Careful—here, I’ll take it.” Before I could register the action, Fredrick took hold of my board, pulling it out of my grasp. With a clatter, he dropped it into the growing pile just to his left near the chapel wall before turning back towards me. “Thank you—“ “Impressive work there, with that demonstration. Sorry they needed it, but you have proven yourself very equipped. That reminds me….” Turning his attention to the pocket of his coat, Fredrick retrieved with a swift movement the envelope I had seen in his care some time prior. “This arrived by Colonel McDougall from my brother whilst you were with your group. I know not what the pages inside contain.” He replied to my—well of course he would have considering that is what I wanted to make him do. I actually managed to get an intended reply…. Taking the envelope outstretched towards me, my fingers gripped the folded parchment with firmness, driven not to tear the wax seal only by the publicity of the circumstances surrounding me. My chest rose with a slowness as in gathering myself I took a long breath. Carefully, I slipped the envelope into the left pocket of my coat, glancing up at my superior officer once more at the quiet thud of the parchment against the wool fabric. “Thank you, sir.” Giving a smile polite, I began to take my leave, but not before Fredrick attempted to grab my shoulder. A short gasp escaping me, I turned my head so as to face him once more. “Sir?” “You did not hear this from me,” he began, his voice lowering close to a whisper, “but I did hear that McDougall and Jay have been talking of you—there has been rumor spreading that the Provincial Congress might raise a new company to be led by an appointment.” Shock gripped to my expression and countenance, pushing my eyes to widen and mouth to open slightly. “Are you suggesting—“ “Yes.” “What?” In keeping pace with Fredrick’s quiet, my voice was pushed out forcibly, unable to be withheld by the shock consuming me. A smirk took up my friend’s expression as he lifted a finger to his lips in silent request. Releasing his hand from my shoulder, he gave a quick nod before turning towards the man newly arrived with another of the wooden boards used during the drill. Sensing another man suddenly behind myself, I stepped to my far left and away from Lieutenant Jay in an attempt to be out of the way as my heart began to race.

Hands

From Ink of Destruction:

“Now that the rope is cut, you should be able to get your hands out quite easily. But yes, I will make that attempt.” At his words, the loosened pressure around my wrists became more noticable. Lifting my fingers inward, I managed to find a hole in the center of the knot. Inhaling, I pulled my right hand away and up, carefully squeezing my fingers between the ropes and the cement pole. A sigh of relief escaped me as my free hand tugged at the rope, and the sound of the knot meeting the wooden floor filled my ears. Lowering my hands to my sides, I gently rubbed my wrists against the inner lining of my jacket’s sleeves, feelling a soreness race down my arms. Blinking, I stared towards Mr. Waiter, feeling words come out of my mouth before I could stop them. “Are you certain that you haven’t done any formal historical research? Or did you lie to me? It’s clear you are not an amateur with that sword.” My voice held an even tone, for I was more curious than angry. A look of realization filled Mr. Waiter’s face, and I could see sprinkles of what appeared to be mischeif in his eyes. “You would know if I were lying to you. I am notoriously a bad lair. And if I were to mess with you, that would be even more obvious. As historians, or those who claim themselves historians, could tell you. I am not a historian myself. Rather, a subject of interest for many in the profession.” Shock and disbelief filled my veins as I took in his words. If historians had written about him, then surely I should have recognized him. His omission of what had caused him to drop out of college must have been something that would have drawn too much attention to him for him to have wanted to mention it inside the resturant. Further, the fact that he had not said his name indicated to me that I may not believe him. As I opened my mouth, the man rose his hand up to stop me. “Turn around so that I might try to fix your hair. Then you can continue.” Nodding, I turned to face the white pole as questions swirled with a fury in my mind. Coming to stand behind me, Mr Waiter gently grabbed towards the center of my hair, slowly lifting the now-uneven strands above my head. Gravity forced the last few inches of the longer portions to fall in front of my eyes, and I was certain against Mr. Waiter’s fist. Hearing the clang of the sword against the wood, I took a deep breath, steadying my posture. “This may be shorter than you wish,” Mr. Waiter said, “but if I held it otherwise, there would be a greater risk of ripping your roots out. And I am sure you don’t want to wear a wig.” Without another word, the man raised his hand, and the sharp swoosh of his blade filled the room. Clumps of hair flew to the floor with soft taps as the metal was struck for a second, and third time. The sounds brought me back to my freshman world history class, where we had watched a number of films exploring different cultures. As a treat towards the end of the unit, Disney’s Mulan had been shown. It was clear to me now how the strengths of animation had made the character’s famed haircut with her own sword seem so easy. Lenna would have surely reasoned that Mulan simply had thin hair, with the benefit of straight strands. At the thought, worry caught in my throat at how much time had passed. She had most likely gotten a cab, I told myself, but knowing Lenna, she would not have strayed far. “There.” With a sigh of relief, Mr. Waiter at last lowered the centuries’ old weapon after a final swing, stepping back towards his former post. As my hair fell back down, I could hear him mutter under his breath: “I never imagined I would use my training in such a manner.”

WIP of my The Warm Hands of Ghost fic

(This might be all of it on account of I lost the ability to write again so posting just in case- Spoilers, happens years after the book, proceed under the cut :))

Despite the things Penelope Shaw had done, the choices she'd made, Laura still named her first born daughter after her, six years after she had lost Pim. Her son, who came four years later, she'd named after her brother. 

It was them, 15 year old Pim Jones and 11 year old Freddie Jones, that Laura thought of when the news of the war broke. 

Or, more specifically, the word of Canada joining the war. 

Freddie, thankfully, was way too young to join the effort. He still had a boyish face, his voice hadn't dropped, even if he tried to enlist they'd never let him.  

Pim was closer to the right age, but still she was off. And in the last war nurses had to be at least 21, not the 18 of men, and had to be formally trained as a nurse. 

Laura herself was free of the war too, when nurses couldn't be older than 39, and she was past that.

The only one left to worry over was her husband. Stephen. She thought there might be a chance he'd stay, now that he'd built so much at home. 

He was the one who'd wanted children- the one who suggested they start trying. He prayed for a son throughout the entire pregnancy, and when Pim was born she became his entire world, even when she wasn't the son he'd wanted. 

And then he got a son, one Laura took charge on naming, just as she had with Pim. She'd told him that he could name the next one, but the next one never came, and Stephen told her that two was all he'd ever need. That his family was perfect, that nothing mattered more. 

He'd proved that just she was enough, when he showed up on her doorstep immediately after the war had ended. When he’d stayed, long after. Making the large move from America to Halifax for her, because he knew that even if he’d already moved to a different part of the province she’d never leave her brother. 

She wondered what her brother and Winter thought of the news, but it fell second in her mind to the wonder of what her husband thought. 

And the wonder of if her husband still thought he had a duty to do even after so much service already, and after so much left to do at home.

So, uhhhh. I wrote a book. (Rough draft complete 9/25/23, 435pgs, 93k+ words)

Get some popcorn, because I'm about to tell another tale from Japanese history.

(I like this terrible story.)

In AD 984, Prince Morasada ascended the Chrysanthemum Throne and became Emperor Kazan. He was 17 years old.

His mother was one of the influential Fujiwara clan, and "influential" is an insufficient word. The Fujiwara were tightly involved in imperial politics, married into every level of the royal family and holding most key ministerial positions. (In my Kitsune Tales stories, when Kaede takes the name of the Fujitani, that is my small nod to the Fujiwara of history.) Even today, over a millennium later, at the revered Kasuga Taisha in Nara (that's the Shintō shrine with the famous bowing deer), there is a gate that only the Fujiwara may use.

Fujiwara no Kaneie, Kazan's great-uncle, definitely had his fingers in all the political pies. But neither of Kazan's two principal consorts were Kaneie's daughters (one was a niece), so if either bore Kazan a son, Kaneie would not be entitled to a regent's position. There were two possible solutions: get an heir from one of Kaneie's daughters, or remove Kazan before he fathered an heir and replace him with someone in Kaneie's own line.

The opportunity opened in 985, when Kazan's favorite consort died, still in her teens. Fujiwara no Shishi was Kaneie's niece, but it was Kazan who mourned her. Beset by pressures of the competing ministers, grieving, and still only a teenager, Kazan likely fell into depression.

But Kazan's friend and cousin Michikane was there to support him. Michikane was only a few years older, and he knew well the pressures of the imperial court, being a Fifth Rank official himself. He empathized with Kazan and supported him in his increased religious studies, as Kazan sought solace in Buddhist teachings. When Kazan wondered aloud about leaving behind the world to follow a religious life, Michikane did not laugh, but encouraged him to think about it. When Kazan said he would like to become a monk, Michikane applauded his dedication. "And as the bonds between us are so strong," it is reported he said, "I will immediately join you, as a subject should serve his sovereign," and they would become monks together.

Plans were made, while Kaneie continued to apply political pressure. A message quietly passed to his two eldest sons prompted the three to take the imperial regalia -- the gods-gifts granting the divine right to rule -- out of the imperial palace and to Ichijō, son of a previous emperor. He was only 7; he would need a regent, and he was the son of Kaneie's daughter.

And finally, one summer midnight in 986, Kazan ordered his carriage out of the Sewing Hall Guard Gate. Some report that, as they rode out, Kazan hesitated. "Isn't this a bit hasty? Should we think it over?" But Michikane assured him he was doing the right thing, and further broke the news Kaneie had already sent the imperial regalia to his successor. Kazan conceded that there was no point to returning, and they went on to the temple Gangyō-ji.

Kazan shaved his head to take religious vows, but when he met his friend Michikane again, Michikane still had his hair. "I want to see my parents once more," Michikane explained through tears. (Culturally, he had a filial obligation to his parents, per Confucian teaching, and once he became a monk he would sever that connection. Wanting to see them once more was understandable.) "My parents won't prevent me from returning, though, and I'll come back soon to join you."

But Kazan, with slow realization, did not believe this last promise. He stared at Michikane. "You have deceived me."

"Why would I do such a thing?" Michikane protested. "I'll be back soon!" and then he left.

But the penny had dropped; Kazan now realized why Michikane would do such a thing. Michikane left the temple and joined the armed escort waiting for him, and they together rode home to his father, Fujiwara no Kaneie, regent to the new emperor.

(And now, the commercial)

The Only The Dead Face North Kickstarter!

In Only The Dead Face North, a rumor that a missing imperial treasure was taken by Kazan as he abdicated by night and hidden along a religious pilgrimage route sends humans and yōkai racing to find it, not only for its monetary value but for political leverage in the young shōgunate.

You can back the new story here, getting your own copy for as little as $5, or get the previous stories in the series in this exclusive boxed set, available only direct and, in honor of the Kickstarter, currently discounted with 25% off with code BETRAY (through Feb 22, 2024).

(And feel free to let me know if you enjoyed this bit of history!)

Find Me!

I'll be talking about history and my historical fantasy with Lost Without Japan, a podcast about visiting Japan and related cool topics. Watch for that episode the week of February 12, 2024.

And I'll join the fabulous World Anvil team on February 16 to discuss Kickstarter and projects. Watch us live at 1pm Eastern (find your local time here) or catch the replay.

(im busy with college so all i can do is spew out stupid ideas)

So imagine 18th-century New York, home to a loving family with two daughters, one born by a mistress, the other not. Now, these people weren't wealthy, but they had a lot of money, and to keep it going, they had to marry off their illegitimate eldest daughter, because why not? And who would want to marry someone born without a title to their name? But of course, someone without a title, specifically a painter.

a painter who has visited the house at least twice to create the family portrait; despite his status as an apprentice, the eldest daughter's stern yet round features were enough to attract his attention.

Cheeky little WIP of the boys?

Very proud of how those hands are looking! 😌👌👌

Of Sense and Soul: A Queer Victorian Romance Game Back our Kickstarter | Get our newsletter | Send us an ask 💌

Jih. Sadal. Narro. Trekkal. Four names that would be impacted forever after one fateful event, 120,000 years ago. Set in a long forgotten time, Jih's Journey brings to light a cross-continental epic across an expansive and rich world in prehistory. One fated night, there is a meteor shower that occurs over a series of days and fills the sky with light, capturing the awe of all who see it. One massive meteor lands in the North Pole and a man named Jih vows to go and see what power it truly holds! Jih sees the problems of his community and hopes that the meteor's gift can bring much needed balance to the land or die trying. Along the way, he finds the world has changed much from what he's expected. Experience prehistoric perils, found family, and a fresh take on peoples of the past!

Closed Captioning provided!

Introduction to writeblr

Hello I am Meera S (they/them), I am a speculative fiction writer, writer of historical fiction and more, all of it is queer centric and with person of global majority (colour) angle. Please interact with this post and I shall add you back to the best of my ability!

about my writing

I’ve been writing and fan fictioning since I was 10. I started my first novel a little over a year ago, I am editing it in a month. I gravitate towards the gothic and historical but I am not gonna limit myself to that. I also write short stories, fic and poetry. 

1. Vampires, witches, werewolves, ghosts, and more, oh my!: I love me some monsters and allegories that are multilayered, just not zombies. 

2. Fantasy and gothic, I write about the human through the inhuman, Anne Rice once said vampire was the most poignant allegory for outcast and other-ness. 

3. The historical. You have to know the past to understand the present and future. Ancient History through 1920s and all of South Asian history and mythology. 

4. Diversity: I am a queer south asian person but I do earnestly try for informed diverse world views that are nuanced and sympathetic even if not “moral” because vampire, etc. 

about me

read here. 

fandoms: read here. go here for fandom stuff. Here for history. Here for fic. Role-play masterlist. 

Influences: Anne Rice, Oscar Wilde, Octavia Butler, Indu Sundaresan, @writingvampires, @elisaintime, Silvia Moreno Garcia and @saintmachina.

what i'm looking for

1. Friends and cool people.

2. eventual beta readers/editors.

3. Other writers.

4. people who know people etc. 

genres i read

I gravitate towards the gothic and historical, but anything well written and I think worthwhile. 

Just finished: Good Omens, Lasher by Anne Rice, catching up with Dracula daily . also following @re-dracula.

Immediately going to read: Taltos by Anne Rice, The Vampire Lestat by Anne Rice, Common Sense by Thomas Paine, and the memoir of Benjamin Tallmadge (the memoir is only 75 pages long so..)

WIPS

Presently unamed, editing in a month: What if Sibyl Vane was too haunt Dorian Gray? Heavily inspired by Wilde’s poetry, Emilie Autumn, steampunk, the allegory of ghosts as the inescapable past popularized by Charles Dickens in A Christmas Carol. As well as the folklore of banshees, avenging angels & La Llorona. More here. Playlist. 

Pending: novella: les liaisons dangereuses x vampires. Playlist.

Pleasure to make your acquaintance!