#historicalfantasy — Public Fediverse posts

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 130, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Tall #TimeTravelAuthors 09/5. Plant Grow

The fairy dance ended as suddenly as it had started. One flute cut off mid-verse, and the other trailed off right afterwards. No one seemed alarmed or surprised. Most stopped in their tracks, while a few continued prancing for a few moments more before joining the rest and slipped away.

Weena tugged on my arm and gestured at the building behind the trees. “Coome. Hoomee. Eeat.”

I nodded, and we started toward the woods.

The whole way, my new friend held my hand and babbled to me in a mixture of melodic syllables and fractured English. After asking a few questions, I realized I wouldn’t learn anything useful. She either didn’t know the answers, couldn’t communicate them, or I failed to make myself understood. As such, I retreated into my thoughts.

I considered what I’d learned. I knew a fair amount about this world, or at least H.G. Wells’s theories. Meeting the fairies, for that is what I still thought of them as, had been fortunate. If I had followed the path, I might have run into the Morlocks. But about myself, I remained ignorant except for what short flashbacks had shown me.

It was beyond frustrating that I remembered a “fictional” book more clearly than my own history.

The woods soon ended, and we emerged into a wide glen with an enormous ruined mansion in the center. Lichen grew thick on its walls, and time had shattered its #tall stained-glass windows. The remaining geometric panes had slumped like wax candles left in the sun. I doubted the fairies had built it. Instead, some forgotten civilization must have done so.

That thought offered a glimmer of hope. Remnants of that race could still exist. If I found them, I might learn more.

Returning to my survey, I noted #plants heavy with berries, small fruits, and pea-like pods growing throughout the glen. There was no sense of their being planted by the fairy folk. The herbage sprouted in random swatches or alone, just as the wind had scattered their seeds. Amidst this lush abundance, a wide variety of melon vines snaked along the ground. Here too was an untended bounty of yellow, green, and dappled gourds. At the forest's edge grew trees laden with red, purple, and topaz globes. It was no surprise that the protagonist of H.G. Wells’s story had mistaken this for a utopia at first.

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 130, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Tall #TimeTravelAuthors 09/5. Plant Grow

The fairy dance ended as suddenly as it had started. One flute cut off mid-verse, and the other trailed off right afterwards. No one seemed alarmed or surprised. Most stopped in their tracks, while a few continued prancing for a few moments more before joining the rest and slipped away.

Weena tugged on my arm and gestured at the building behind the trees. “Coome. Hoomee. Eeat.”

I nodded, and we started toward the woods.

The whole way, my new friend held my hand and babbled to me in a mixture of melodic syllables and fractured English. After asking a few questions, I realized I wouldn’t learn anything useful. She either didn’t know the answers, couldn’t communicate them, or I failed to make myself understood. As such, I retreated into my thoughts.

I considered what I’d learned. I knew a fair amount about this world, or at least H.G. Wells’s theories. Meeting the fairies, for that is what I still thought of them as, had been fortunate. If I had followed the path, I might have run into the Morlocks. But about myself, I remained ignorant except for what short flashbacks had shown me.

It was beyond frustrating that I remembered a “fictional” book more clearly than my own history.

The woods soon ended, and we emerged into a wide glen with an enormous ruined mansion in the center. Lichen grew thick on its walls, and time had shattered its #tall stained-glass windows. The remaining geometric panes had slumped like wax candles left in the sun. I doubted the fairies had built it. Instead, some forgotten civilization must have done so.

That thought offered a glimmer of hope. Remnants of that race could still exist. If I found them, I might learn more.

Returning to my survey, I noted #plants heavy with berries, small fruits, and pea-like pods growing throughout the glen. There was no sense of their being planted by the fairy folk. The herbage sprouted in random swatches or alone, just as the wind had scattered their seeds. Amidst this lush abundance, a wide variety of melon vines snaked along the ground. Here too was an untended bounty of yellow, green, and dappled gourds. At the forest's edge grew trees laden with red, purple, and topaz globes. It was no surprise that the protagonist of H.G. Wells’s story had mistaken this for a utopia at first.

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 130, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Tall #TimeTravelAuthors 09/5. Plant Grow

The fairy dance ended as suddenly as it had started. One flute cut off mid-verse, and the other trailed off right afterwards. No one seemed alarmed or surprised. Most stopped in their tracks, while a few continued prancing for a few moments more before joining the rest and slipped away.

Weena tugged on my arm and gestured at the building behind the trees. “Coome. Hoomee. Eeat.”

I nodded, and we started toward the woods.

The whole way, my new friend held my hand and babbled to me in a mixture of melodic syllables and fractured English. After asking a few questions, I realized I wouldn’t learn anything useful. She either didn’t know the answers, couldn’t communicate them, or I failed to make myself understood. As such, I retreated into my thoughts.

I considered what I’d learned. I knew a fair amount about this world, or at least H.G. Wells’s theories. Meeting the fairies, for that is what I still thought of them as, had been fortunate. If I had followed the path, I might have run into the Morlocks. But about myself, I remained ignorant except for what short flashbacks had shown me.

It was beyond frustrating that I remembered a “fictional” book more clearly than my own history.

The woods soon ended, and we emerged into a wide glen with an enormous ruined mansion in the center. Lichen grew thick on its walls, and time had shattered its #tall stained-glass windows. The remaining geometric panes had slumped like wax candles left in the sun. I doubted the fairies had built it. Instead, some forgotten civilization must have done so.

That thought offered a glimmer of hope. Remnants of that race could still exist. If I found them, I might learn more.

Returning to my survey, I noted #plants heavy with berries, small fruits, and pea-like pods growing throughout the glen. There was no sense of their being planted by the fairy folk. The herbage sprouted in random swatches or alone, just as the wind had scattered their seeds. Amidst this lush abundance, a wide variety of melon vines snaked along the ground. Here too was an untended bounty of yellow, green, and dappled gourds. At the forest's edge grew trees laden with red, purple, and topaz globes. It was no surprise that the protagonist of H.G. Wells’s story had mistaken this for a utopia at first.

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 130, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Tall #TimeTravelAuthors 09/5. Plant Grow

The fairy dance ended as suddenly as it had started. One flute cut off mid-verse, and the other trailed off right afterwards. No one seemed alarmed or surprised. Most stopped in their tracks, while a few continued prancing for a few moments more before joining the rest and slipped away.

Weena tugged on my arm and gestured at the building behind the trees. “Coome. Hoomee. Eeat.”

I nodded, and we started toward the woods.

The whole way, my new friend held my hand and babbled to me in a mixture of melodic syllables and fractured English. After asking a few questions, I realized I wouldn’t learn anything useful. She either didn’t know the answers, couldn’t communicate them, or I failed to make myself understood. As such, I retreated into my thoughts.

I considered what I’d learned. I knew a fair amount about this world, or at least H.G. Wells’s theories. Meeting the fairies, for that is what I still thought of them as, had been fortunate. If I had followed the path, I might have run into the Morlocks. But about myself, I remained ignorant except for what short flashbacks had shown me.

It was beyond frustrating that I remembered a “fictional” book more clearly than my own history.

The woods soon ended, and we emerged into a wide glen with an enormous ruined mansion in the center. Lichen grew thick on its walls, and time had shattered its #tall stained-glass windows. The remaining geometric panes had slumped like wax candles left in the sun. I doubted the fairies had built it. Instead, some forgotten civilization must have done so.

That thought offered a glimmer of hope. Remnants of that race could still exist. If I found them, I might learn more.

Returning to my survey, I noted #plants heavy with berries, small fruits, and pea-like pods growing throughout the glen. There was no sense of their being planted by the fairy folk. The herbage sprouted in random swatches or alone, just as the wind had scattered their seeds. Amidst this lush abundance, a wide variety of melon vines snaked along the ground. Here too was an untended bounty of yellow, green, and dappled gourds. At the forest's edge grew trees laden with red, purple, and topaz globes. It was no surprise that the protagonist of H.G. Wells’s story had mistaken this for a utopia at first.

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 130, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Tall #TimeTravelAuthors 09/5. Plant Grow

The fairy dance ended as suddenly as it had started. One flute cut off mid-verse, and the other trailed off right afterwards. No one seemed alarmed or surprised. Most stopped in their tracks, while a few continued prancing for a few moments more before joining the rest and slipped away.

Weena tugged on my arm and gestured at the building behind the trees. “Coome. Hoomee. Eeat.”

I nodded, and we started toward the woods.

The whole way, my new friend held my hand and babbled to me in a mixture of melodic syllables and fractured English. After asking a few questions, I realized I wouldn’t learn anything useful. She either didn’t know the answers, couldn’t communicate them, or I failed to make myself understood. As such, I retreated into my thoughts.

I considered what I’d learned. I knew a fair amount about this world, or at least H.G. Wells’s theories. Meeting the fairies, for that is what I still thought of them as, had been fortunate. If I had followed the path, I might have run into the Morlocks. But about myself, I remained ignorant except for what short flashbacks had shown me.

It was beyond frustrating that I remembered a “fictional” book more clearly than my own history.

The woods soon ended, and we emerged into a wide glen with an enormous ruined mansion in the center. Lichen grew thick on its walls, and time had shattered its #tall stained-glass windows. The remaining geometric panes had slumped like wax candles left in the sun. I doubted the fairies had built it. Instead, some forgotten civilization must have done so.

That thought offered a glimmer of hope. Remnants of that race could still exist. If I found them, I might learn more.

Returning to my survey, I noted #plants heavy with berries, small fruits, and pea-like pods growing throughout the glen. There was no sense of their being planted by the fairy folk. The herbage sprouted in random swatches or alone, just as the wind had scattered their seeds. Amidst this lush abundance, a wide variety of melon vines snaked along the ground. Here too was an untended bounty of yellow, green, and dappled gourds. At the forest's edge grew trees laden with red, purple, and topaz globes. It was no surprise that the protagonist of H.G. Wells’s story had mistaken this for a utopia at first.

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

GMBC ep06 - The Great Hippo Heist: Exploring Sarah Gailey's Alternate History, River of Teeth #saragailey #americanhippo #althistory #heist #hippos #tasteofmarrow #historicalfantasy #cowboys #queerlit #queersff #novella #books #ttrpgpodcast https://www.k-squareproductions.com/gmbc

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 129, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Cant #TimeTravelAuthors 09/1. Introduce your story (use the word "fall")

The fairy, Weena, turned and spoke to the others, who were now traversing the circle, dancing a graceful yet chaotic dance while singing in the flowing language of her people. One word was clear: “Hurburth.” Upon speaking, she pointed at me. Was that my name or the type of creature I was? I don’t suppose it mattered; there were no other humans they could confuse me with.

I pointed to her and asked, “Who are you?”

“Who?” she asked, cocking her head in puzzlement. Then, touched her chest and said, “Weena—Freenn.” As she said the second word, she took my hand and smiled.

“Friend?” I asked.

She nodded and repeated, “Weena, freennd.”

I looked at her hand, then at her, and then back at her hand. It felt awkward. She seemed to know me and to be attached to me, even intimately. I, however, had no recollection of her. There wasn’t even a hint of familiarity. She was a total stranger.

When I tried tugging my hand free, she pouted, so I stopped. Her childish looks and behavior made me afraid of offending her. I needed an ally, and she was offering.

Meanwhile, the dancers spun around the circle faster and faster: twirling, #canting first to one side and then the other, weaving in and out, but never colliding. The pipes grew shrill, and their voices filled the air like a flock of chickadees. Periodically someone would #fall to the ground panting. Once rested, they either rejoined the dance or came to stare at me. Some stroked my cheeks or hair, while others decked me with flowers or offered me berries and nuts.

“The Time Machine,” I thought. Yeah, I had finally figured out where I was: The sphinx, the garden-like setting amid rhododendrons, effete people, and Weena—it all fit together. So now I knew my name and location, but not my history or why I was there.

I sighed. This adventure seemed all too familiar, yet puzzlingly different from the vague impression I had of my past. I was in a book—weird!

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 128, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Violet #TimeTravelAuthors 08/31 Author's choice/promo

While I watched, a crowd of fairy-like creatures emerged from the woods. They were slender, feminine figures with shapely limbs. Each wore a colorful tunic belted at the waist.

A man and a woman led the group, though it was difficult to discern their gender, so similar appeared their features. Small apple-like breasts were the sole difference. The man was garbed in a dusty rose tunic, while the woman wore a #violet one. Crowns of matching flowers encircled their heads. They each played a bamboo flute, and the creatures following them danced to the music, laughing and singing.

I could have run, and perhaps I should have, but they seemed harmless, and if I fled, my chances of learning anything useful would be minimal. Worse came to worst, I could break through their ranks, so frail did they seem.

As they drew nearer, I saw they stood a little over a meter tall. I could make out their Dresden features: smooth faces; small, thin, bright-red lips; large, mild eyes; pointed chins; and delicate noses. Curly hair fell to their necks, hiding their ears, but I imagined elvish ones. Except for the absence of wings, they might have been fairies straight out of “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” I would have been a proper ass not to appreciate their fragile beauty.

The majority swirled around me, while a few stopped to poke at me, speaking in strange, sweet, liquid tones. Except for one woman, it was all delightful, but totally incomprehensible. She spoke broken English with an odd lisp. The oddness didn’t stop there; one side of her face had been burned.

“Hurburth?” she asked, embracing me. “Weena miss you.”

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

Aaand today, I learned about this ebook bundle.

https://itch.io/b/3875/queer-historical-indies-bundle

#Itchio #Queer #HistoricalFantasy #HistoricalRomance

Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost (2nd Edition)

Chapter 18 EP 5: Late Jurassic Era, Swiss Highlands

Illuminati or Elder Races is not the choice you want to have.
Plus: #Dinosaurs

PIXIV Link:
AO3 Link:

Art by: Mai-sensei

Tags: #TimeTravel #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #HistoricalFantasy #LightNovel #Romance #Queer #Sappfic #Serial

Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost (2nd Edition)

Chapter 17 EP 5: Late #Jurassic Era, Swiss Lowlands

Back to the age of #dinosaurs.

PIXIV Link:
AO3 Link:

Art by: Mai-sensei

Tags: #TimeTravel #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #HistoricalFantasy #LightNovel #Romance #Queer #Sappfic #Serial

Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost (2nd Edition)

Chapter 15: EP 4: 1937, Gardner Island, Midnight

Bijou and Emily find Amelia Earhart.

PIXIV Link:
AO3 Link:

Art by: Mai-sensei

Tags: #TimeTravel #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #HistoricalFantasy #LightNovel #Romance #Queer #Sappfic #Serial #AmeliaEarhart

#TimeTravelingGhostV2 EP 12: Post 123, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Puzzle #TimeTravelAuthors 08/3. Where does your main character live/where are they from?

As the images from my dream faded, I began to panic. The earlier questions haunted me: “Who was I? Where was I? Where had I come from?”

I had the strange conviction that I wasn’t from this time or place. That knowledge had been lost somewhere in the mists of time. What an odd way of putting it. Surely I meant lost in the void of my memory?

No, I meant the former: “Lost in time.”

I shook my head and struggled to my feet. I wouldn’t find any answers lying there. It was of the utmost importance that I learn more.

There it was again: that feeling of almost knowing. I knew the fate of the world depended on my piercing this veil of ignorance. That conviction burned in my mind.

I took stock of my surroundings: the Sphinx, crop circle, path into the forest, tiny wild strawberries winking at me in the grass. I #puzzled over what I should do first.

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost (2nd Edition)

EP 4: 1937, Gardner Island, Early Night

Careless wishes get messy results.

PIXIV Link:
AO3 Link:

Art by: Mai-sensei

Tags: #TimeTravel #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #HistoricalFantasy #LightNovel #Romance #Queer #Sappfic #Serial #AmeliaEarhart

Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost (2nd Edition)

EP 3: 2025, Miskatonic University II (Skully’s Office)

Bijou and Emily learn the basics of time-travel before fleeing from ICE-Nine.

PIXIV Link:
AO3 Link:

Art by: Mai-sensei

Tags: #TimeTravel #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #HistoricalFantasy #LightNovel #Romance #Queer #Sappfic #Serial

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 11: Post 117, 1191, The Castle of Nicosia

#Wss366 Sty #TimeTravelAuthors 07/11 Saturday breathe/breath

When the conclave ended, I needed to talk with Emily. She wouldn’t say things like that unless she meant more. Although we had only known each other for a few weeks, I hoped her flattering words weren’t just fluff. Right now, though, I needed to focus on my Templar impersonation.

Even if I had wanted to discuss our relationship then, I couldn’t, as Petros had returned with what turned out to be one of the worst meals I’d ever faced: tough, fatty meat and coarse, gritty bread. With the help of the sour wine, I choked it down. I had no choice but to eat it if I wanted to maintain my pretense.

Relief came partway through the meal, when another servant arrived announcing: “If you will follow me, M’Lord.”

I handed Petros the remains of the food and followed the servant into the courtyard and to the central citadel. At the door, we passed a squad of knights in full armor standing guard. They were grim figures, many with scarred faces visible beneath their helmets. Even the fortress gate hadn’t been guarded this well.

Once inside, I was led to a chamber dominated by a raised dais at the far end. Men sat in chairs around a table running down the center of the room, their gazes turned to fix on me. Brian de Bois-Guilbert rose from one of the chairs and announced, “Sir William de Lancaster, in the service of my friend the Prior of Aymer.”

“I heard you died,” another voice said.

Silence fell, and all the faces turned to look at the speaker: a man with a full, trimmed beard and narrow eyes. A #sty marred his handsome Latin features.

“Lord Conrad, I vouch for him,” Bois-Guilbert replied.

The man waved a hand, dismissing the objection. “Let the Lancaster speak for himself. Matters are too weighty for him to remain unchallenged.”

Sir Brian’s face grew red, but he remained silent.

I took a deep #breath, pointed to my throat, and choked out: “Miracle… Swallowed… Lead…Released…”

A third voice spoke, a bishop by his appearance. “My lord, Marquis, what say you? Will you deny the Lord’s miracle?”

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Sapphic

#gamemastersbookclub Explores the Genres! Historical Fantasy #historical #fantasy #historicalfantasy #AltHistory #books #booksky
Siren Queen - Nghi Vo
Brooms - Jasmine Walls
Ring Shout - P. Djeli Clark
A Marvelous Light - Freya Marske
OOku: The Inner Chambers - Fumi Yoshinaga