#historicalfantasy — Public Fediverse posts

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 133, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 exodus #TimeTravelAuthors 9/11. Has your MC ever been in a fight?

The trip up to the mezzanine was tricky. In many places, the steps trembled under my weight, and in other spots they were missing. My heart was in my mouth when I had to jump over the gaps. Weena struggled even more, so I carried her over the holes. Each time, she buried her face in my chest, her eyes tightly shut.

At each stage, the fairies below laughed and clapped. A few of them tried following us, but turned back at the first obstacle.

In the end, we failed to reach the top. We stopped on a landing instead. Dust blanketed the floor, undisturbed for years. It wasn’t a pleasant place to camp, but at least it was safe.

Slumber evaded me when we lay down. It was almost as if I didn’t need it. I stared into the dark thinking for a long time, with Weena curled up around me. Finally, her warmth and the soft lullaby of her breathing, joined by the rustle of fairies below, lulled me to sleep.

I awoke to a rending scream. Next to me, Weena was trembling. “Mourloks,” she whimpered.

When I peered out into the room, it was too dark to see anything. “I wish I had a lantern,” I thought.

“Eye-yeeee!” I shrieked as a flaming branch appeared in my hand.

This was the second instance that something I wished for appeared. The last time it had happened behind my back. Since I hadn’t witnessed the clothes appear at the sphinx, I’d written it off as a mystery. This time there was no mistake; I had conjured a light from thin air. What was going on?

Feral howls brought me back to the present, and I looked over the railing. Below, I could make out pallid, mushroom-gray creatures holding unresisting fairies. Pandemonium broke out. The wee folk screamed in terror while the Morlocks howled in pain and averted their eyes from the light.

This was possibly the first time I’d ever fought, but I wouldn’t let monsters carry off any of the fae, no matter how pathetic they seemed. I hurled the burning brand among the loathsome creatures and wished for another torch, which I also threw. By the time I summoned the third flaming branch, the Morlocks had fled in a mad #exodus.

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

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 132, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Cain #TimeTravelAuthors 9/10. Whatever

“Coom,” my strange little companion said, pulling me toward the tables. We sat down cross-legged. If Emily had been there, I would have called it “criss-cross applesauce” to mess with her.

There it was again! That name! Who was Emily? She must be important.

The brilliant indigo eyes of a woman surfaced in my mind. She was sipping soup with her face hidden behind ivy on the…

Then it was gone again.

“Hurburth?” Weena said, poking me in the ribs.

I smiled at her and looked around. We were sitting near the edge of the room. Their clothes were either drabber or brighter than those at the further tables. Some wore wrinkled or stained items. Still others displayed faces painted with berry dye or colored mud. One had a bandaged hand, and a strawberry birthmark marred another’s cheek. From the way the fairies avoided him, you’d have thought he bore the mark of Cain. And then there was Weena, with her fire-scarred face.

“Misfits and outcasts,” I said.

Emily… I mean, Weena.

She piled fruit in front of me, and I ate it absentmindedly as I studied my environment.

The little people’s manners were atrocious. When they finished something, they tossed the remains on the floor. They grabbed at the food and threw it at each other.

My companion carefully watched me eat and imitated me. Unlike the others, who laughed and talked like unattended kindergartners, she chewed silently and only spoke when her mouth was empty.

Eventually, she stopped, her brows knit, and touched one of my breasts. “Not Hurburth?”

“No, not Hurburth.” I pointed to myself. “Henrietta.”

“Henreetaa?”

“Henny.”

“Henny,” she repeated, getting it correct.

I nodded.

“Henny, luke Weena?”

“Luke?” I thought. “Luke? Oh, ‘like!’”

“Like,” I said, pointing first at myself and then at her. “Henny, like Weena.” I spread my hands wide.

When we finished eating, it was growing dark inside the building.

“Come,” I said and led her to the stairs leading to the platform.

They were in poor shape, with broken treads and gaps. I wondered if it would be safer to face the Morlocks than to climb.

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

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 132, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Cain #TimeTravelAuthors 9/10. Whatever

“Coom,” my strange little companion said, pulling me toward the tables. We sat down cross-legged. If Emily had been there, I would have called it “criss-cross applesauce” to mess with her.

There it was again! That name! Who was Emily? She must be important.

The brilliant indigo eyes of a woman surfaced in my mind. She was sipping soup with her face hidden behind ivy on the…

Then it was gone again.

“Hurburth?” Weena said, poking me in the ribs.

I smiled at her and looked around. We were sitting near the edge of the room. Their clothes were either drabber or brighter than those at the further tables. Some wore wrinkled or stained items. Still others displayed faces painted with berry dye or colored mud. One had a bandaged hand, and a strawberry birthmark marred another’s cheek. From the way the fairies avoided him, you’d have thought he bore the mark of Cain. And then there was Weena, with her fire-scarred face.

“Misfits and outcasts,” I said.

Emily… I mean, Weena.

She piled fruit in front of me, and I ate it absentmindedly as I studied my environment.

The little people’s manners were atrocious. When they finished something, they tossed the remains on the floor. They grabbed at the food and threw it at each other.

My companion carefully watched me eat and imitated me. Unlike the others, who laughed and talked like unattended kindergartners, she chewed silently and only spoke when her mouth was empty.

Eventually, she stopped, her brows knit, and touched one of my breasts. “Not Hurburth?”

“No, not Hurburth.” I pointed to myself. “Henrietta.”

“Henreetaa?”

“Henny.”

“Henny,” she repeated, getting it correct.

I nodded.

“Henny, luke Weena?”

“Luke?” I thought. “Luke? Oh, ‘like!’”

“Like,” I said, pointing first at myself and then at her. “Henny, like Weena.” I spread my hands wide.

When we finished eating, it was growing dark inside the building.

“Come,” I said and led her to the stairs leading to the platform.

They were in poor shape, with broken treads and gaps. I wondered if it would be safer to face the Morlocks than to climb.

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

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 132, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Cain #TimeTravelAuthors 9/10. Whatever

“Coom,” my strange little companion said, pulling me toward the tables. We sat down cross-legged. If Emily had been there, I would have called it “criss-cross applesauce” to mess with her.

There it was again! That name! Who was Emily? She must be important.

The brilliant indigo eyes of a woman surfaced in my mind. She was sipping soup with her face hidden behind ivy on the…

Then it was gone again.

“Hurburth?” Weena said, poking me in the ribs.

I smiled at her and looked around. We were sitting near the edge of the room. Their clothes were either drabber or brighter than those at the further tables. Some wore wrinkled or stained items. Still others displayed faces painted with berry dye or colored mud. One had a bandaged hand, and a strawberry birthmark marred another’s cheek. From the way the fairies avoided him, you’d have thought he bore the mark of Cain. And then there was Weena, with her fire-scarred face.

“Misfits and outcasts,” I said.

Emily… I mean, Weena.

She piled fruit in front of me, and I ate it absentmindedly as I studied my environment.

The little people’s manners were atrocious. When they finished something, they tossed the remains on the floor. They grabbed at the food and threw it at each other.

My companion carefully watched me eat and imitated me. Unlike the others, who laughed and talked like unattended kindergartners, she chewed silently and only spoke when her mouth was empty.

Eventually, she stopped, her brows knit, and touched one of my breasts. “Not Hurburth?”

“No, not Hurburth.” I pointed to myself. “Henrietta.”

“Henreetaa?”

“Henny.”

“Henny,” she repeated, getting it correct.

I nodded.

“Henny, luke Weena?”

“Luke?” I thought. “Luke? Oh, ‘like!’”

“Like,” I said, pointing first at myself and then at her. “Henny, like Weena.” I spread my hands wide.

When we finished eating, it was growing dark inside the building.

“Come,” I said and led her to the stairs leading to the platform.

They were in poor shape, with broken treads and gaps. I wondered if it would be safer to face the Morlocks than to climb.

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

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 132, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Cain #TimeTravelAuthors 9/10. Whatever

“Coom,” my strange little companion said, pulling me toward the tables. We sat down cross-legged. If Emily had been there, I would have called it “criss-cross applesauce” to mess with her.

There it was again! That name! Who was Emily? She must be important.

The brilliant indigo eyes of a woman surfaced in my mind. She was sipping soup with her face hidden behind ivy on the…

Then it was gone again.

“Hurburth?” Weena said, poking me in the ribs.

I smiled at her and looked around. We were sitting near the edge of the room. Their clothes were either drabber or brighter than those at the further tables. Some wore wrinkled or stained items. Still others displayed faces painted with berry dye or colored mud. One had a bandaged hand, and a strawberry birthmark marred another’s cheek. From the way the fairies avoided him, you’d have thought he bore the mark of #Cain. And then there was Weena, with her fire-scarred face.

“Misfits and outcasts,” I said.

Emily… I mean, Weena.

She piled fruit in front of me, and I ate it absentmindedly as I studied my environment.

The little people’s manners were atrocious. When they finished something, they tossed the remains on the floor. They grabbed at the food and threw it at each other.

My companion carefully watched me eat and imitated me. Unlike the others, who laughed and talked like unattended kindergartners, she chewed silently and only spoke when her mouth was empty.

Eventually, she stopped, her brows knit, and touched one of my breasts. “Not Hurburth?”

“No, not Hurburth.” I pointed to myself. “Henrietta.”

“Henreetaa?”

“Henny.”

“Henny,” she repeated, getting it correct.

I nodded.

“Henny, luke Weena?”

“Luke?” I thought. “Luke? Oh, ‘like!’”

“Like,” I said, pointing first at myself and then at her. “Henny, like Weena.” I spread my hands wide.

When we finished eating, it was growing dark inside the building.

“Come,” I said and led her to the stairs leading to the platform.

They were in poor shape, with broken treads and gaps. I wondered if it would be safer to face the Morlocks than to climb.

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

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 131, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Register #ScribesAndMakers Share something you've been working on this month. #TimeTravelAuthors 09/9. laugh

Weena led me into the building through an arch decorated with elaborate carvings of dancing nymphs and satyrs. Like everything else, time had left them battered. The building’s inside was the same: a huge vaulted chamber hung with brown tapestries so faded that any patterns had long since vanished. The floor was constructed of slabs of a metal resembling aluminum. While free of tarnish, countless feet had worn deep channels along the fairy folk’s paths. Raised tables of polished granite ran the length of the room. At only half a meter tall, they were an ideal height for wee people to kneel and eat the fruit heaped upon them.

Silken pillows clustered in the center of the chamber between the tables. I remember from “The Time Machine” that this is where the fairies slept huddled together. I shivered as it #registered that this was also where the Morlocks selected their meals from the helpless fae.

A broad mezzanine ran beneath the stained-glass windows. I would later discover that dilapidated stairs ascended to it.

I pointed to the balcony and spoke to Weena in pidgin English. “Sleep, you, me.” I used sign language to help.

She #laughed, nodded, and said, “Hurburth, foony.”

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

Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost (2nd Edition)

Chapter 19 # EP 6: Late Jurassic Era, Lapin Island—The Lagoon

Holy moly! A pyramid of solid pink coral!

PIXIV Link:
AO3 Link:

Art by: Mai-sensei

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

#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 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

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 127, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Take #TimeTravelAuthors 08/29. craft

I mulled over my options. Should I follow the flutes? But they gave me the willies. Or should I shout out? That seemed risky. Okay, how about I #take the path? No, if I followed the trail, I would miss my opportunity to investigate the trampled grass.

Fairy circle it was then.

The slope leading down through the meadow was gentle. The grass was lush and weed-free. It brushed pleasantly against my legs, making a soft swishing noise. Clover, buttercups, and daisies made the lawn merry. Soon, I found one of many paths leading toward the fairy ring. Occasionally, I saw a fruit rind, a wilted flower chain, or small shoe prints.

The circle’s bed measured about two meters wide and swung in a lazy curve that would have taken me about five minutes to walk around. The crushed grass gave off a fresh, green scent. It hadn’t been trampled for long.

As I examined the area, the flute music grew louder. Far from sinister, the tune was familiar, and I found myself humming along: “Greensleeves was all my joy, Greensleeves was my delight, Greensleeves was my heart of gold, and who but my lady Greensleeves.”

When I looked toward the sound, I saw a ruined building #crafted of gray, weathered stone rising above the trees and rhododendron thickets. The music seemed to originate from this edifice.

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

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 9: Post 91: 1912 Titanic 2 of 2

#Wss366 Lean #TimeTravelAuthors 04/11. Point

[Continued from previous post]

I put down the first letter, picked up the second, and began reading it.

Today, I visited Dr. Faust to clarify some #points about time-travel.

I’m glad I don’t live in the Middle Ages. It was smelly and uncomfortable-looking. I wouldn’t eat anything there.

The doctor appeared only mildly surprised by my visit and proposed a question exchange, which I agreed to.

• Who or what are the ICE-Nine rabbits? He responded, “I don’t know what ICE-Nine is, but the rabbits are God’s guardians of time.” He seemed serious, though I doubted his answer. It’s more likely that they’re demonic agents. For heaven’s sake, according to that newspaper, they tortured and assassinated me.

• Have you ever tried to change history? He answered, “Unsuccessfully. I’ve tried saving my lover, Marguerite, several times, but to no avail. It takes something big to alter history.”

• Legend has it you sold your soul to Satan. What really happened? He laughed. “The devil, God—are they not the same? I have torn my soul loose from the world, but I have not sold it. I have sworn allegiance to the Illuminated Ones, and they have promised me knowledge beyond my wildest dreams. No matter what history says, I am not wrong. You should do the same before God’s wrath falls upon you.”

I stopped again. “I’m Glad we didn’t visit Faust. It sounds like he’s one of the bad guys.”

Emily waved her hand for me to continue.

There was a knock at the door just then, and my host said, “There they are now. You should leave or be prepared to swear an oath to them. God’s emissaries will show you mercy.”

I did the former. No good could come of dealing with the Illuminated Ones.

“That’s it,” I said, putting the letters down. “I guess we’ll never know how or why they murdered me.”

“Not the details, but I think you got into the soup visiting Faust. Let’s not make the same mistake.”

That was one major option out, so I suggested an alternative. “Given what has worked, I bet it’s possible to visit an opponent of the rabbits.”

“And end up meeting one of those prehistoric monsters we saw in the mural. Bad idea.”

“I wonder if saying ‘meet an ally’ would work better?”

“Might. I #lean in favor of that. But before we decide our next move, let’s get dressed and explore the ship.”

#TootFic #MicroFiction #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Yuri

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Ollie reviews Reclaimed by Seth Haddon: https://www.instagram.com/p/DKa1RWsMnFW/?igsh=MWlweXR3MTM5ajFkeQ%3D%3D

In it, they say: "An example of some amazing 🏳️‍🌈&🏳️‍⚧️ rep! Saba has quite a lot of dysphoria, which plays a huge role in the plot. It was written in a way I could really identify with." & "Zek’s descriptions of identity around his disability are great. (Also- YES to the representation and beauty of fat bodies!!)"

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