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#historical fiction series
annafromuni · 5 months
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Howls Moving Castle and The Princess Diaries Collide
This novel had me grinning from ear to ear and I haven’t felt this way about a book in a long time. The Wisteria Society of Lady Scoundrels by India Holton is an absolute gem of a find and I am so glad I picked it up because it is hilarious. Flying houses captained by high society pirate women, said women sending assassins to try and kill others who have been inconveniences and then taking tea…
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verityreadsbooks · 11 months
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Series I love: Emmy Lake
This week’s series post was an easy choice because the third Emmy Lake Book came out in the UK yesterday (it’s not out in the US until August) and I’ve read it and it’s good. It’s also a long time since I’ve written about a historical series that’s *not* a murder mystery one so it’s also a nice dash of variety for you all! When we meet Emmy Lake at the start of the series, it is 1940 and she is…
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inky-duchess · 8 months
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Etiquette of the Edwardian Era and La Belle Époque: How to Dress
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This is a new set of posts focusing on the period of time stretching from the late 19th century to the early 20th Century right up to the start of WWI.
I'll be going through different aspects of life. This series can be linked to my Great House series as well as my Season post and Debutant post.
Today will be focusing on the rules of clothes with this time period.
A Cut for Every Occasion
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As you may know, the wealthy elite and their servants lived extremely regimented lives and every aspect was governed by careful rules. They would be expected to wear the right outfit at the right time, every minute of the day. Any misstep would be noticed at once and be subject to scruntiny.
In the circles of the elite, one would be expected to change for every occasion. One simply wouldn't wear the same outfit they've been lying around the house in to attend tea at somebody's house. Fashion in this era was dictated by the clock and by the event diary of the wearer.
Ladies
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Women of the upperclass would be expected to change at least six times a day. When she would rise for a morning of repose around the house, she would simply wear a house gown or a simple blouse and skirt. If planning a morning stroll, she would change into a walking suit which is a combination of blouse, skirt and jacket along with her hat usually of tweed. If running errands or paying a visit to friends, she would wear another walking suit. If riding, she would wear a riding habit and a hat. If hosting tea or taking tea in her own home, she would change into a tea gown with is a lighter more airier gown more comfortable for chilling in. If attending a garden party, one wears a pastel or white formal day gown accompanied by a straw hat and gloves. For dinner, she would change into an evening gown which would be more elaborate and show off a little more skin than her day wear. After dinner and ready for bed, she would change into her nightgown.
Female servants had an easier time of it. A housekeeper and lady's maid would simply wear a solid black gown for the entire day. A cook and kitchen maids would wear a simple day dress for working with an apron. Housemaids would usually wear a print dress with an apron and cap, changing into the more formal black and white attire you would associate with a maid.
Gentlemen
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The gentlemen had an easier time but they too were subject to changes throughout the day. Men were expected to wear a suit. The most popular day time suit was a sack suit. These were comprised of plain and loose fitting jackets, worn over a starched shirt with a high collar, waistcoat and straight trousers with ironed creases. These suits were exclusively wool with cheaper ones made of a wool and cotton blend. Grey, green, brown, navy were usual but sine younger men preferred louder colours such as purple which was a trend for a time in the 1910s. These suits were worn about the house or in the city accompanied by a coat. Men would change into tweed if shooting or walking. For garden parties, a gentleman would wear a light coloured suit, usually white and a straw hat. For dinner, a man had two choices: his tails or his dinner jacket. A dinner jacket was for less formal suppers say if dining at home. This was a collection of a jacket, trousers, waistcoat, a bow tie, a detachable wing-collar shirt and black shoes. Lapels of these jackets were edged with silk or satin. Tails were worn at a formal dinner party, at White Tie events. This was made up of a tailcoat, white piqué waistcoat, a starched dress shirt with a pique bib and standing wing collar with a white bow tie. Trousers were lined with trim to hide the seams.
Male servants were soared changing. Footmen would wear their livery around the clock which would resemble white tie to a certain extent or mimic court dress of palace servants. Butler's would wear a variation of a gentleman's evening suit throughout the day. When a male servant is dressed, he usually stays that way. However, a valet or a footman may be taken to pick up during shooting parties where they would wear tweed walking suits.
Jewellery
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Jewellery was an important sign of status in society. Upperclass women of this time has access to untold caches of sparklers but there were rules concerning their use and meaning. Earrings were usually clip ons as women of high status would not pierce their ears. Simple, understated earrings were worn during the day with more ostentatious sets were worn in the evening time. Broaches were popular at this time, usually worn at the throat of a gown or blouse or walking suit or affixed on hats. Large stoned rings were worn over gloves while slender bands were worn under. Jewellery was intricate and understated amongst old money whole the nouveau riche went for chunkier stones and larger settings. Tiaras were only worn at White Tie events, held after six pm and almost never by unmarried girls. One would not wear a larger tiara than that most senior lady present. Men would wear tie pins, cufflinks and pocket watches to match any occasion be it for a jaunt on the town or at a formal evening party.
Hats
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Hats were a staple in this period. Anybody respectable from any class wouldn't venture out of the door without a hat.
Men would wear hats when heading out but always remove them when entering a building, and never wear one without removing it for the presence of a lady. The bowler was seen as more a servant's headwear while a top hat was reserved for gentlemen. Flat caps would be only seen on gentlemen at shooting gatherings or in the country, they were popular among the common class for any informal occasion.
Women had more stricter rules concern hats. Hats for women were more a day accessory worn while out and about. A woman would not wear a hat in her own home even when entertaining and nor would any of the other female occupants if joining the gathering. A woman would not remove her hat when attending a luncheon or tea or any activity. Hats were held in place by a ribbon or sash tied under the chin or by a hat pin, which is essentially a large needle thrust through the hair. This was the period where women's hats became more ornate and rather large, leading to some critisism. Among servants, housekeepers and lady's maids would not wear a hat while indoors and working but a housemaid or cook or kitchen maid would cover their hair with a cap with housemaids changing into a more elaborate one come evening time. Male servants would not wear hats unless travelling or outdoors.
Gloves
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Gloves are a staple in this period and worn only at the opportune time. Among servants, only footmen would wear gloves and usually only when serving. Butlers would never wear gloves. Female servants did not wear gloves.
Men did wear gloves, usually woollen or leather while outside or riding gloves when out on horseback.
Women wore gloves whenever outside. Day gloves were usually wrist length, with evening gloves stretching to the elbow. During dinner, evening gloves would be removed at the first course and laid across the lap, replaced at the last course when the ladies leave for tea and coffee after where the gloves are then removed again. Gloves are always worn when dancing and at the theatre or opera. If one is sitting in ones box and sampling some chocolate, one can remove their gloves for that.
Hair and Makeup
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Make up was a no-no amongst the upper crust and for their servants in England and America, as it was seen as licentious but in France, the use of rouge was accepted. Perfume and cologne were acceptable but excessive use was frowned upon.
Hair was dressed by one's lady's maid. Bouffant updos were popular in this time period for married women. During the last years of this period, women began adopting the 'bob' but this was seen as radical and sometimes scandalous. Unmarried girls could wear their hair down, often with accessories like a bow to adorn their tresses. Servants would always tie up their hair and never be seen with it down or uncovered (though this depended on their job).
Men would comb their hair, slicking it back for dinner. Most men were clean shaven but if they wore beards, they were usually well groomed. Hair was kept short for grown men and teenagers but young boys may wear their hair longer whilst in the nursery.
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marzipanandminutiae · 2 months
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a book series that makes use of "anachronistic" language in a way that really feels organic for the period, IMO, is Piratica by Tanith Lee
set in an explicitly alternate universe c. 1810, the first book managed to include the sentence "Well, groovy, thou art a klutz," and make it sound 100% Golden Age of PiracyTM. even though the author used words from wildly different eras, she captured the cadence of 18th/early 19th century working-class/criminal slang so well that I literally just had to look up whether "groovy" was an older word than I previously thought
god those books were so good. I should reread them
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blackinperiodfilms · 2 months
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Prime Video is developing The Davenports, a series based on Krystal Marquis’ bestselling YA novel of the same name, from Alloy Entertainment. The project is a co-production of Warner Bros. Television and Amazon MGM Studios.
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The series, set in 1910 America, revolves around the Davenports, who are one of the few Black families of immense wealth and status thanks to the entrepreneurship of former enslaved patriarch William Davenport. Surrounded by servants, crystal chandeliers, and endless parties, his daughters Olivia and Helen, and their friends, are finding their way and finding love—even where they’re not supposed to.
Leslie Morgenstein and Gina Girolamo executive produce for Alloy Entertainment. Warner Bros. Television and Amazon MGM Studios are the studios. A search is underway for a writer.
The Davenports was released in 2023 and Marquis is currently working on book two in the series.
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shadowofahope · 2 months
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Love Revocation
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Pairing: ImperialGuard!JungHoseok x Princess!Reader
Premise: Only your brothers would be willing to step in and try to change your future. But history isn't easy to overcome, even if it is all but forgotten.
Word count: 3.5K
Author's note: I've been watching a lot of historical k-dramas and c-dramas lately, and I can say it's an addiction at this point! If you have any favourites feel free to share! I'd love to watch your recommendations as well as talk about any mutual ones we love!
masterlist
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One foot infront of the other, the crisp air of the afternoon breeze through your robes and hair, the light chatter of people in the market; it all gave you a bittersweet taste of Deja vu. Times like these felt right, but you had the feeling that nothing looked as it should. It could be the small taste of freedom mixed with the claustrophobic fear being chained somewhere. However, where the other end of the chain was you didn’t know. Or you did once, but it was lost with the rest of your memories from all those years ago. 
You stopped trying to remember after the first two season changes, then you accepted your circumstances and adjusted yourself to where you were. 
Arms full, you smile gracefully at the passing merchants and village people, the ones bowing at you when recognization transpired. You all but skip down the back path heading towards the palace again. 
You promised mother you’d finish her painting of the place father asked for her hand today. You had beeen working on it for her birthday, but you were too excited to wait. So it may have been promised 2 weeks earlier then her day.
However, a shroud voice catches your attention before you make it to the next corner. You stop in your tracks to listen. If living in the palace taught you anything it was ‘to always know the concerns of your people’, were fathers exact words. In otherwords you took it as a sign that it was ok, in most situations to eavesdrop… at least a little. 
“She is being forced to marry the oldest son of the emperor and empress. Her bloodline will muddy just as theirs already is.” A sinik male voice mocked. 
“What do you mean by that?” You heard your brothers fiance ask. She was a headstrong woman. Not only that but she was radiant. The type of woman your brother deserved. 
“Everyone knows the young lady is unfavoured by the gods. So if you bear a child with him your children will be inflicted with the same inability.” This time a female voice chimed in. Just as distasteful as the males.
“The princess is kind, witty, social, politically intelligent, well read, impactful, understanding and unworldly beautiful. Our children will be blessed to have her as their aunt.” Tayla lists, you smile to yourself. She didn’t have to defend your honour so seriosuly, but you silently thanked her none the less. 
“You have your doubts. There is no way you do not feel some worry about tarnishing your family name. Its reputation will be dragged through the land if your children fail to develope as she has. They will be cursed as she is.” 
Anyone talking about your family members however, you just couldn’t let it slide so easily.
“My brothers children will develop into the strongest blood line of these past 1000 years, we are in no need of your concern.” You step in, rounding the corner of the building. Your voice and demeanour remain calm, a smile on your lips as your mother had taught you when it came to political arguments. Remaing calm when the opposing side could not, as strategy she had learned in her youth.
What others said about you didn’t really bother you anymore. As a young child you always felt the sting of their harsh words. Like they were hoping you’d choke on them. But it had the opposite affect. It only drove you to try harder, to learn the ways of the palace. To push yourself past the limits that this life had given you. 
“My lady!” Many courteous greetings are followed by formal bows. “Wha-what are you doing here?”
“I was out for a walk through the village to get a few supplies.” Holding up the items in your hands, you sidle up to your future sister in law. Taking a step between her and the small circle of ill intended pupils.
“We didn’t mean anything by it. We were just worried she hadn’t thought it through. Or raised concerns” One of the young males spoke quickly. You stifle a scoff, but continue to maintain your composure.
“I’m sure you are.” You eye him carefully, if you weren’t mistaken he was one of the many candidates who wanted Tayla’s hand in marriage. “However as I am not my mother and fathers birth daughter, you’ll be happy to know my genes will die with me.” 
“You are not the child of the Emporer and Empress?” The small crowd gasps in unison. You could laugh at how comical their faces became. 
Even so, amongst the mumbling in front of you there is a faint call from behind you, you turn to her.
“Mother and Father saved me when I was young. Knowing I could not cultivate nor could remember where I had come from or how I ended up where they found me, they showed compassion and mercy upon taking me in and raising me with their children.” You explain to her alone. “I am blessed beyond measure. And your children will hold the greatest of titles. ”
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A few days had past since your unexpenctant, informal announcement of your lineage. A very important matter had taken your attention, so you had all but forgotten already. You hear frantic footsteps approach your room. You brace your mind for the inevitable impact that would be your brothers. Your hand doesn’t still as it continues to write on the parchment of your lessons from today. Your doors burst wide open, not bothering to look up at them.
“Are you really planning to take the tether serum?” Your youngest brother demands breathlessly. 
“You’re here earlier then I expected, I am almost surprised.” You smile to yourself. If you had placed money on them discovering your plans, it would not have been until at least a week had past.
“Don’t make light of this.” Your eldest brother scolds from the rear, coming up behind your younger brother, closing the doors to conceal your conversation.
“Why would you make such a thing?” Taehyung's bewilderment is something you had became accustomed to. He somehow always seemed shocked by your actions. Considering how long you had been in the family now, you would have thought he had understood you at least a little.
You let out a deep sigh, the air from your lungs feels cold as it leaves your body into the warm air. 
“I want to be of use to mother and father in the end. Is that so outrageous as to incur your unmistakable wrath?” You choose your words carefully, not wanting to sadden them with todays ongoings but at the same time you know Seokjin’s fiance has already informed him of the other day. 
“We both understand greatly how indebted you feel towards them, but to tether your lifeline to them as someone still young is unheard of.” Seokjin reasons, still standing in the middle of the room, you can see his robes out of your peripheral. Taehyung sits down in the place next to you, trying to get your attention.
“Elder brother is right. If they both pass then so shall you, your soul cannot be separated. You shall serve them into death and upon new life.” His tone turning sorrowful. 
This time you look up at him, then towards your elder. 
“My dear brothers, It’s no secret that no one would marry me before and now with my birth being admitted, I have somehow lost whatever leverage I may have had.”
“That’s not true.” You see the hurt in the youngers eyes, but what you've said is true. You all know it. You give him a sad smile, letting your hand drop the brush, and placing it over his on the table.
“I cannot cultivate. I have no sense of magic or any prowess. My soul has been deemed weak and now people know that I am not the Emperor and Empress' true daughter.” You direct your smile towards Seokjin. “I have been preparing myself for this outcome since we were young. Please, if you cannot understand me then at least accept that this is your sisters wish.”
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“The last time the two of you bowed this deeply to us was when you were young children and you and our son had broken a priceless family heirloom while you were training in the halls.” The Emperors longest friend muses from his seat. Him and his wife had known your parents since they were young, they were as close as family. Including their son, who happened to be the same age as you. So all four of you had grown up together.
“Uncle. Auntie. We are here to request an inordinate favour from you. One we know may be impossible for you to agree to, but we must ask this of you.” Seokjin’s whole body is tense. Everything he can do to save you from tethering yourself is hanging on this outcome. 
“What is it?” Your aunt is more curious then worried by their request. Seeing them kneel before them was a shock bigger then they had ever expected. 
Your brothers sit up straight.
“Our sister. As you know she is unable to cultivate. She has no skill in combat. Many have deemed her unworthy to bear our family name.” Seokjin’s voice comes out strong, but his hands are trembling slightly. “However, as you also know. Our sister is competent in the kitchen, and with chores of the home. She is patient and nurturing when she takes care of the palaces many children. She has beautiful skills in the way of art and embroidery. She is generous beyond measure and courteous to others. She deserves to have a future.”
“We both agree. She is a diamond amongst pebbles. But what brings this tone of concern?” Uncle is concerned.
“Our sister has decided to take the tether serum and serve our parents.” Taehyung explains. “We do not know if you have heard the word circling about our sister not being of our blood. But we are here to confirm it. Our parents took her in when I was newly born, she is all I’ve known to be an older sister.”
“We are aware of the talk. We were also there the day your parents found the young lady.” The Uncle assures. “You do not need to worry about our thoughts towards the princess.”
“I am curious to this favour. What do you wish to ask for?” Auntie pushes. 
“Our sister wishes to tether herself for she believes no one will marry her.” Seokjin explains. They bow again in unison, as if they had practiced their movements and speech before appearing. “We ask of you to please propose a marriage contract to the Emporer and Empress between our sister and your son.”
Taehyung cuts in quickly before they can be dismissed.“We know he is your only son, but we beg of you. She respects your son and you, uncle and auntie. There are many things she may be useful for.”
“Useful? She is enough as she is. We know that very well.” Uncle states, making eye contact with his wife. The look of understanding flashing between the two, unseen by the young princes.
“Just as we know our son. He has felt feelings of affection for the young lady for quite some time. You might not know this but she was the reason he decided he wanted to join the guard.” The older woman conceals her giggle behind her hand. “I had never seen such a rambunctious boy turn so serious.”
“He knew?” They both shoot up in surprise. Their friend had never mentioned having any knowledge of your sisters situation. But then again, they had never spoken of this either. 
“Yes. Our son was adamant that he would protect the princess. We could not sway his mind. Though we did not try to. We have never looked down on her because of her situation. She has become a well rounded beautiful woman, our son would be blessed to take her as his wife.” The Lord nods, 
“Does that mean you will agree?” They feel giddy. They could save you.
The older couple share a fond smile. 
“There is something our son has been drawn to since he was a young boy. We believe your sister is the key to his happiness.” 
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“Hoseok, what are you doing here?” You beam, controlling your feet to not skip your way over to him. A lady never skips…at least not in front of others.
“Princess” He greets you with a bow and warm smile as he always does. “I was summoned by the Emperor and Empress. Why have you come?” 
“I was requested by Uncle and Auntie to meet them here.” You explain. “What is going on? Do you think its about Mothers birthday feast tomorrow?” 
“I’m not sure, but we should not keep them waiting. Let us go in.” He opens the doors and waits for you to enter first.
You hurry in, smiles directed at your parents then your uncle and aunt. 
A large round table adorned with vast plates of food, both your fathers sat near the far end laughing and chatting away, raising a drink to eachother. Your mothers seated next to their husbands also tremendously cheerful. 
You share a quick glance before bowing. 
“Emperor. Empress.” He greets first.
“Uncle. Auntie.” You greet directly after. 
“Children! Come in! Have a seat.” You father cheers happily. Your aunt waves a hand over to you for you to sit next to her. 
You bound over to sit next to your aunt. Which just so happens to be next to Hoseok as well.
“We are celebrating this evening.” Your mother informs, her attention on him.
“What are we celebrating Empress?” Formality laced in his words. It made you smile, even if he was like another son to your parents he highly respected them. 
“Lord and Lady Jung, have come to us with a proposal contract and we have agreed.” The Emporer boisterously exclaims.
“I’m sorry, Father and Mother I fear I do not comprehend.” You express, eye brows coming to meet in a frown. 
You see a flash of something cross Hoseoks face, but you stay focused on your looking between your parents. 
Your Aunt grabs both your hands, placing them in the space between you and forcing you to face her.
“The Emporer and emperess have accepted our proposal for our son and you to be wed.” She cheers brightly, hands giving yours a light squeeze.
“I’m to marry-?” You look back at him. Scared to see panic or disgust or even rage on his dazzling features. But there isn’t any sign of darkening. Only red tinted ears give away any emotions he’s feeling. That in itself leaves you astonished adn shaken. 
Words of wedding ceremonies are abrupt in your ears. The pattern of the bedding for your marriage suite. 
“But, Uncle, auntie. I’m not worthy of marrying your son.” You say it like it is a definite fact, interrupting their excited remarks. 
“Nonsense!” Your father bellows, a bright smile never leaving his face, he places his arm around his long term friend, who shares an equally blinding smile. “You two shall be wed! It is a beautiful idea, one I wish we had thought of sooner.” 
The laughter from the elders erupts once again, leaving you shell shocked. Remaining quiet you can’t bring yourself to look at anyone, opting to stare at the oak table in front of you. How did these events happen? You had just made the choice to…
A sinking feeling hits you all at once. Your brothers. They were the only ones that knew of your plans, other then the physician you had asked the tether serum about. They would be the ones to try to stop you. 
You’d deal with them after this dinner. You’d confront them and talk to Hoseok about his rejecting the marriage proposal. 
You just had to sit nicely until then.
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“What did you do?!” You stormed into the study room the next day, you knew your brothers had hidden themselves away. They always resided in the same place to try to escape you when they had done something they knew you would be unhappy with. You had been followed by Hoseok on your way there when you mentioned you were confronting your brothers, upon meeting him that morning.
“Sister. This is a study room. Please refrain from raising your voice.” Your oldest mock scolding you, book in hand.
“Then answer me. I know it was the two of you that have provoked the marriage idea.” You were pulling back your seething temper, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. 
“Princess~” Hoseok calls calmly from behind you. You could feel him close behind you, not touching but close enough that you felt like you could breathe.
“What all of our parents decide to do we do not hold any influence over. You know as well as anyone.” Seokjin scoffs. The audacity he had to play ignorant at this moment was appalling. 
“We may have brought up the idea of a union.” Taehyung supplies from the far end of the room. 
“Why would you do this?” Exasperation seeps out of you. There was no point in hiding your displeasure or annoyance at these two. “You know I wish to be tethered.”
“Tethered?” Hoseok speaks again. “Who were you to be tethered to?”
“Mother and Father.” You state, angry eyes set on your brothers, but also not wishing to elaborate. This isn’t how you wanted him to find out. You were all childhood friends, you wanted to tell him yourself when he had time away from his duties in the guard.
“She believes no one shall love her because she is unable to cultivate. She believes she is not worth dotting on.” Your elder brother chimes in, closing his book and sauntering over to you. “But that’s not true. Is it Hoseok?“
“No. It’s not.” Your childhood friends voice is stern, you had never heard it like this before, at least not targeted at you. It sends a shiver down your spine. “Is this why you wanted me to talk my parents out of this marriage?”
“I wanted to be tethered to mother and father because I wish to serve them for eternity.” Your jaw tense. Your core feeling as it had turned into stone. 
“Look at me.” You have never heard his voice so cold and low, not even when he was at work. Something in you makes it impossible to deny him, so you do as he orders. You can see the fire behind his eyes, before your allow the flames to consume you you look towards the chilled marble ground. You hear muffled voices of your brother behind you but you can’t react. You feel warm fingers gently push your chin up ever so gently, forcing you to make eye contact. “Princess. Y/n. Is that really why?”
Your voice catches in your throat. A cough threatening to scratch its way out of you. “I am not like others. I cannot contribute to a high class home as I should. I’m…. broken.”
You had never felt so weak as you did in that moment, not since the days yo uhad been found. You could never lie to him. Not once. 
He studies your face, searching for something. “Is it the worst to be betrothed to me?”
“What?” His question catches you off guard. You blink at him in confusion. Of course, you knew he would be angry at your decision, or at the very least angry with you for not trusting in him to discuss it. 
“I can understand if you wish not to be wed to me because you do not think I’m adequate.” His voice soft like the look in his eyes. Soothing your anger towards your brothers in a instant, your only focus on him and the sad smile on his lips.
“That is ridiculous. I would not want it to be promised to any one else in this entire kingdom.” Why do you feel breathless? 
“Good.” His hand slips away from your skin. For a mere second, you miss the contact before realizing what you said. Your face burns with embarrassment, your eyes scrunching closed at how idiotic you sounded to yourself. Had you lost your mind? “Then I will discuss with our parents for the ceremony to be held as soon as possible.”
The shock brings you back out of your inner reprimanding. But before you can formulate words he’s bowing to your brothers and then you and he’s gone.
“W-what just happened?” Your mind struggles to catch up. 
Hearing your brothers snicker at you doesn’t’ help, you’re still frozen in place. Frozen staring at the now closed doors that Hoseok, your childhood friend, had left through. 
Seokjins full laugh fills the room. “Looks like you’ll be a little bride faster than I will be a groom.” 
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james-winston · 9 months
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omfg I am so behind on this (and yes I’ve only become aware of it because Nicholas Galitzine offof rwarb is in it) but they’re making a fucking Duke of Buckingham series!!!
And you’re all sitting there like “who??” well let me tell you about this absolute fuck.
George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham was the favourite of King James VI&I and by favourite I do mean it in the gayest of ways. (He started life as Sir George, the shittest of titles, and fucked his way to a Dukedom.)
Long story short, here’s a list of things I need to see in this series or I will SUE:
George slut dropping his way into James’s bed. (I mean, he danced for him, but whatever the 17th century equivalent to slut dropping was you can bet George was doing it.)
The exasperation of James’s advisors when he picks yet another beautiful young man to fuck and give totally unreasonable amounts of money and power to.
Even funnier if they show them actively helping George overthrow James’s old favourite before realising “oh shit this one’s worse.”
George failing consistently at every job he was given. (Yes I know he didn’t actually but where’s the comedy in competency? Give me himbo George or give me death.)
Parliament calling James to task on George being a fucking useless nuisance and James standing up in front of parliament and literally saying, “You may be sure that I love the Earl of Buckingham more than anyone else, and more than you who are here assembled. I wish to speak in my own behalf, and not to have it thought to be a defect, for Jesus Christ did the same, and therefore I cannot be blamed. Christ had his John, and I have my George.” (Huge points for throwing Jesus under the gay bus too.)
James practically arranging George’s marriage for him and then riding his horse around the park crying because George, shock, got married.
What better be the dirtiest sex scenes ever broadcast on British television that lead to the “master and dog” letter.
The consistent drama queenery from James, e.g:
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I refuse to tag this as a spoiler because it happened 400 years ago: George smothering James and then playing the heartbroken widow to his son. (Historically debated, if anyone wants details shoot me an ask.)
George getting stabbed to death in what was probably the justified climax of him being the most irritating man alive.
George’s assassin getting the warmest send off ever given by any crowd at a public execution cause the people hated George so fucking much.
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pretensesoup · 8 months
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Dionysus in Wisconsin
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Fall, 1969. Ulysses Lenkov is a grad student in the Department of Magic Studies at UW-Madison. When a local seer warns him something dangerous is coming, his investigation leads him to Sam Sterling, an archivist and community theater nerd who's standing directly in the path of an arriving god. Soon the two are helping each other through demon attacks, discovering the unsavory history of Sam's family, and racing to find a solution that doesn't lead to heartbreak and death. But as the year draws to a close, they'll face a deadly showdown as they try to save Sam—and the city itself. It's the first in a series, but there's no cliffhanger and it has a HEA.
You might like Dionysus in Wisconsin...
If you are a former Gifted kid who had an obsession with mythology and enjoy m/m romance with a touch of gritty noir and heady magic
If you love the way certain words feel in your mouth
If you were a theater kid or ever wanted your best friend to be a sentient library
If you're a diehard KJ Charles or Cat Sebastian or Jordan L. Hawk stan
If you ever want someone to get their urban fantasy in your romance novel
If you think a historical novel set in the 60s without any homophobia might be fun
If you have undiagnosed or late diagnosed ADHD and you wish you could simultaneously be a traveling bard and the inventor of time travel
If you really like band T-shirts and getting caught in the rain.
If you--just, you know what, go get it. Stop waiting.
Amazon link! Universal links!
The paperback is real pretty too, just so you know:
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yet-another-heathen · 3 months
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Cold, Cold, Cold - VIII
1,744 words. Original work, The Jackal of An-Nadr
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Content Warnings | UNREALITY, fever whump, very vivid hallucinations, nightmares, fear of drowning, hypothermia, anchored to the bottom of a river, used as bait, crying into your captor's arms, gorgeous & incoherent begging
Taglist | @killtheprotagonist @secretwhumplair @ink-and-salt @kixngiggles @brutal-nemesis @thebewilderer @whumpsical @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @whimperwoods @shydragonrider @pizzasthengym @thecyrulik @ceph-the-writing-spook @mylifeisonthebookshelf @ohwhumpydays @redwingedwhump @whump-queen @scoundrelwithboba
The thready, unraveling world had stopped making any sense to Nadeem so very long ago. He didn't know how long he'd been drifting. Only that night had now come, and the cold had, too.
Silt pressed between his toes as he strained toward shore, just barely brushing the tops of the muckweed with every kick. His hair drifted out in a raising and dipping halo around his shoulders, frost crusting the strands everywhere it touched the water.
He could count on one hand the number of times he had ever gone swimming at night, especially alone. No matter how much he had always trusted the river during the day, it was a game with death to be out here after the sun had set. The rivercats that lazed at the glinting heat of the shore would have returned to the river by now. The ones that couldn't even be bothered to roll an eye in a human's direction during the day would be out hunting for cattle that wandered too close to the blackness of the shore—and they were much more difficult targets than him. And even if the alligators didn't kill him, The Purratu's cold northbound waters were enough to. 
The motion of the current had already wicked away any of the heat his body had to offer. Shivering against the steady onslaught of water was useless. He knew with a creeping sense of dread that worsened with every minute; I'm dying.
Still he tread water, trying to keep his chin above the surface. His wrists had been bound behind his back, the anchor tied from them to the depths far too heavy for him to lift. He had spent all of his strength and energy trying to drag it closer to shore, but now his violent shivering was beginning to slow. His body was failing. He didn't know when the stranger was coming back to him, only that he was running out of time.
A sharp, shuddering breath rattled his shoulders, sweat seeping into the pillows as he tried to curl deeper around himself, chasing the warmth that was quickly seeping out through the bottom of the canvas bed. No matter how much he shivered, the draft from below took away all heat faster than he could make it.
Was this his punishment? Were they not coming back?
I can't do this.
He gave a frustrated sob as he tried, one last time, to saw his hands free of the rope. The fibers cut deeper and deeper into his skin, succeeding in doing nothing more than spreading more blood into the water.
He twisted his hands weakly in the leather strips tying them to the head of the bed. His fingertips had long since turned a worrying shade of frigid grey, and it took all his focus to get them to gradually flex to try to keep life in them.
The ladder creaked as one of the creatures came down the steps. He caught the flash of eyes, metallic silver pools of light that glinted in the blackness like those of a hyena. The predator shifted through the small space, the sound of lanterns tinkling against its shoulders. Then a second set of glinting eyes joined it soon after.
"Come back!" he cried in a fog of breath into the empty night. His voice was hoarse from clattering teeth, weak with the only shallow gasps he could still reach from the surface of the water. The lights of windows flickered orange against the dark landscape, glittering like embers in the wind.
He knew this man could outwait him. He could remember nothing of the stranger's face, but a deep well of rot in his chest told him he was facing something worse than freezing to death and drowning. He was bait. Even as the shouts grew closer and he saw the distant silhouettes of his townspeople pass, he bit back his sobs and kept himself silent.
If they come for you, I’ll kill them before you have even a chance to scream.
But now he heard his sister's voices in the distance. He had been a constant for their whole lives. They knew him. They knew him well enough that he knew the river was one of the first places they would look. He could do nothing but cry as he ran out of time.
"Come back and take me," he wept breathlessly, "Pl—please." His leg spasmed with a cramp of pain, and with a gasp of shock his mouth dipped below the surface. It took him a few long, terrifying moments to kick again strongly enough to break the surface. The redoubled cold of the night air washed over his face. He sputtered and coughed from the shock of it, feet sweeping back and forth over and over to try to buy enough air.
He let out a breathless sob as claws brushed slowly, carefully back through his hair. He shuddered, shying away from the touch, and held his breath as he felt it pause. Then a warm hand slid down the curve of his jaw and cradled his face. Please, please. "...please."
Please, warmth. "I'll...do...." anything. I'll do anything. Don't let me spend another night like this.
I'll never make it to the oasis if I don't find warmth.
I have to make it. I don't want to die alone like this.
I don't want to die in this forsaken place.
The hand traced his face, soothing over the sweat-drenched mess of his forehead. His eyes lidded as their warmth slowly seeped into his skin, exhausted sobs slipping through clattering teeth.
"I'll do it," he sobbed into the hum of the locusts.
Please don't let them find me like this. Please, don't let my family be the ones to find me.
Baba, Maaman, his sisters—
"I'll do it!" He yelled, and immediately sank back under the surface. In the moments after he surfaced again he was left coughing so hard he almost couldn't catch his breath. 
More lanterns had been lit, glimmering out beyond the high grass like guttering candles. They were still so far away. The wildlife that sang in the banks of the river gave way to the sound of distant cries for a moment before their orchestra breathed over them again.
The creature pulled the blankets away, unwinding him from the tangle of furs. He whined aloud as the cold night air washed over his skin, barely aware of the "Please...no....no," that streamed from his lips.
Talons pulled him out of the blankets, lifting him like he weighed no more than a doll. Then they moved warm over his sweat-drenched clothes, pulled him close against the creature's chest, and continued combing through his hair as arms wrapped around his back. He almost began weeping with relief when warm, bare skin pressed into the numbness of his cheek.
Something writhed beneath his toes in the muck. He jerked his foot away and instinctively kicked at it to keep it at bay, but it wasn’t something he could sustain if he still wanted to breathe. Moments after he was forced to return to his treading, slimy sandpaper scales brushed along the arch of his foot as it persistently returned. 
He braced himself for the needle-pain of teeth, drawn to the smell of the wound in his foot. He let out a near-hysterical whine as he felt those mucousy scales twist up between his toes and wrap around his ankle. Then its body once again pressed cold against the bottom of his foot, slicking over the burn, and kept him from dislodging it even as he returned to his desperate treading.
Lengths of bandage turned slowly round and round his foot, gentle hands working around the wound. 
His fingers curled against its chest, heat radiating against his cheek as he sunk further into the crook of its arms. The air he breathed was tinged with the incense-burn of smoke, huge hands warming the back of his neck. A wordless murmur echoed by his ear, warm breath ghosting over his skin.
Maybe the creature wouldn't... Maybe...
Wait...
No, he couldn't...it couldn't....
Something rustled in the reeds. Something brushed over his hair.
Which was reality?
"Make it stop," he pleaded breathlessly.
"Nadi!" his sister's voices cried from downriver. "Where are you?"
He coughed on more water, breath blooming in silver clouds around his head. Droplets flicked out around him as he turned his head and desperately searched the dark for any sign of the dark figure from before.
A warm cloth wiped across his forehead, washing over feverish skin. A rumbling voice soothed him as he twisted his face away from the contact.
A man's silhouette shifted, so faintly visible against the reeds that he couldn't even be sure he was there. He kicked desperately to try to raise his head from the water enough to call out, but suddenly found, for the first time, that he couldn't reach the surface.
"Õ̵͜d̸̰̆r̷͈̒ä̸̦i̸̻͋!̷̩̌ ̴̯̌G̷̨̊e̴̙͗t̵͚͂ ̴̼̃m̷̖̆e̶̬͊ ̶̑ͅs̷̠̾ȁ̸̝n̵̪͠d̷̠̽b̷͓̆a̷̳̒g̷̩̽s̸̢̊,̵̤͒ ̶̗̽n̴͓̒o̴̗̚w̴̥̉!”
He cast pleading eyes toward the figure, gasping on a breath that was as much water as air. Please. Please.
That...that was no language he knew. And some resigned sort of dread told him that his mind couldn't have come up with it on his own, not even in the fever of dreams like these.
"Nadi! Where are you?"
He struggled to crack open his eyes, but he could see nothing more than incoherent colors swimming beyond his lashes. They lidded as an ember-warm hand brushed back the small hairs at the edges of his face, relief coursing down his spine with a shudder.
He was either drowning or falling asleep. He could no longer distinguish one from the other any more than he could make sense of either of the realities from dreams.
The man on the shore was going to get what he wanted after all.
The creature at the bottom of the river curled its body slowly up his calf, fins fluttering against his skin. Its body tightened around him. Then it pulled him slowly deeper, and Nadi's vision wavered as the water closed over his head one final time. The muffled roar of the insects went silent. He turned his eyes once again up toward the night sky, empty breath clawing at his lungs.
He had no more strength to fight. His trembling, exhausted muscles finally went lax with one last, burning exhale that blossomed to the surface. Then he was no more.
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writerrose1998 · 4 months
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Title: Terms and Conditions
Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Wednesday Addams/Tyler Galpin
Summary: Wednesday Addams, Ruling Queen of Nevermore, has come to the unfortunate conclusion that she does in fact need an Heir for her kingdom. And thus, a husband.
Unwilling to bind herself to just any noble of an appropriate station, the young Queen sets a few terms and conditions of her own.
Enter Peasant!Tyler.
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jessread-s · 4 months
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✩🧚‍♂️📔Review:
I adored this cozy, atmospheric read from start to finish! 
“Emily Wilde’s Encyclopaedia of Faeries” follows Emily Wilde, a genius scholar and meticulous researcher, as she journeys to a small town to write the world’s first encyclopaedia on faerie folklore. Not too long after, her handsome and charming academic rival Wendell Bambleby arrives and gets in the middle of her research. As she gets closer to discovering the secrets of the hidden ones, she begins to question who he truly is and what he really wants. 
Epistolary novels (works of fiction written in the form of journal entries, letters, or other documents) are few and far between these days, so I am ecstatic I love this one as much as I do! I enjoy this style of writing because it reveals so much in the way of characterization. For example, Emily’s thorough account of her time in the field complete with footnotes shows just how dedicated she is to her research and studies. Her entries also showcase some of her quirks—like how she prefers the company of books, her dog, and the fae to other people—which made me love her all the more. 
Wendell Bambleby is one of my favorite characters of all time. Seriously. He begins as Emily’s academic rival, but throughout the novel he wins her, and the reader, over with his irresistible charm. He is the sunshine to Emily’s grumpy and his attachment to her is incredibly endearing. Additionally, his good-natured teasing, sewing hobby, and neat freak personality, keep the book light while also making his character stand out.
The romantic relationship that develops between Emily and Wendell is definitely a subplot, but I actually appreciated that it wasn’t the book’s focus because Emily wouldn’t be Emily if her research didn’t come first. I enjoyed getting the opportunity to explore her brilliant mind and absorb her vast knowledge on the fae through her journal. 
Fawcett really created something special and I know I’m not alone in saying that I cannot wait for what comes next!
Cross-posted to: Instagram | Amazon | Goodreads | StoryGraph
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annafromuni · 20 days
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Let Death's Assassins Thrive in Robin LaFevers's Grave Mercy
I read this many moons ago but there is something that’s calling me to reread the His Fair Assassin trilogy. Robin LaFevers’s Grave Mercy is a historical fiction young adult fantasy novel rife with political tensions. In a time when women had no autonomy, Seventeen-year-old Ismae escapes from the brutality of an arranged marriage into the sanctuary of the convent of St. Mortain, a convent where…
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littleeyesofpallas · 5 months
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hey-scully-itsme · 5 months
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according to my notes it is one year to the day since i started reading the aubrey-maturin books
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hussyknee · 1 month
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If you aren't reading KJ Charles's books I sincerely do not know what you're doing with your life.
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desdasiwrites · 1 year
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– Naomi Novik, His Majesty's Dragon
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