NaraMoore ⛩️👻八尺様👻⛩️ Toot.Com

@NaraMoore@toot.community
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⛩👻八尺様👻⛩

✒️#haiku #senyru #tanka #haibun #Shahai #Monoku

✒️Indie writer of #Yuri #romance #paranormal adventures hosting on: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaraMoore

My main account for fiction and other JP oriented posts is: @NaraMoore

#マストドン写真部 #マストドン廃墟部

⛩️👻💗👻⛩️

Fiction/Author@NaraMoore
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Main Account@NaraMoore
Idolshttps://usuzakuraya.us/i/web/profile/650447524030644227

#wss366 6/23 #TimeTravelAuthors Alternate History aspects [Note 1]
#FanFiction #TearmoonEmpire

**** The Norns ****
*** Chapter 4: The Book of Fate ***

“Mmm...” Mai murmured, savoring the rabbit stew the Norns had offered. “So warm, so rich. The wild sage is a pleasant touch,” she enthused over the stew, not noticing the three women hadn’t gotten a bowl for themselves.

The mushrooms were bitter, but they had soaked up the broth and were palatable. Spoonful after spoonful of stew daintily entered Mai’s mouth. “Mum, so yummy,” Mai said around one of those spoonfuls.

Pieces of rabbit and mushroom swam around the bowl, inviting her to dig in. Her spoon took a longggg dive toward the food. It was such an odd spoon. The handle must have been a foot longggg with a ssmiling face.

“Better to reach the fooood,” Mai thought. “Why are you dddoddggging,” Mai thought as the pieces swam away from her sssspoooon. “At last,” she thought, only to have a piece of rabbitttt jjjjump offff her spppooooon.

She looked up at the women to see if they had noticed. Their faces shifted in the firelight. Wwwaving like llllillies in a field. Swwweeeet lllilliees, blessessed by the sunnn.

“Ddddoes itttt ttttast gooood,” Ver… The mature one said? The voice came from very far away.

“I woveeee the Mushhhhrrrrrooom threaaad innto your weeeave… your weeeave… weeeave… eve.”

Like the #pound of surf in a tide worn cave.

Mai didn’t feel good. Her stomach twisted into a knot. Rabbits danced in big, heaping jumps. Mushrooms danced in her head.

The three mushrooooommmm ladies in gray hoooooddddds, smiled. Their lips twisted like the knots in her stomachhhhh…

“Lady Mai. My lady,” it was Anne’s voice issuing from the forest.

“Anneeeee, Anne,” she cried back. “Come, try the steeewww.”

“My lady, Belle is here to see you.” Anne’s voice held a touch of command and cut through Mai’s visions.

Mai opened her eyes. In her lap was the book of fate. She had been reading it because she couldn’t go out for a ride today. The page was open to show a picture of mushrooms with white freckles on their red caps dancing in a circle.

Mai was glad she had read the book. She had learned one important lesson. Never trust women in gray hoods, even if they make the tastiest rabbit stew.

She closed the book and moved on to plan her day. One of her first tasks would be asking the cook if they had any of those red mushrooms.

<Part4 of 4 - #Serial Conclution>

[Note 1] For this one, yes. As a result of reading the book, Mai will avoid eating that batch of poisonous mushrooms. The Norns also referred to several other time-altering events, not that I wrote those.–For my silly ones, not so far.

#microfiction #NMPrompts #NMV366 #NMTTA
#Anime #Manga #LightNovel #Fantasy #Mushrooms #psychedelic
#ティアムーン帝国 #JNovelClub

#wss366 06/23 #Pound
#FanFiction #TheApothecaryDiaries

*** The Amorous Dr. Tianyu ***
(Anime/Manga Spoilers)

Maomao woke to the sound of fists pounding on the supply room door. Someone was trying to open it, but the shelf Mao had knocked over lay piled against it, foiling their efforts.

Her vision swam. A length of wood in front of her twisted like a snake. When she sat up, her brain seemed to slosh back and forth. Her head pounded. “dum, dun, dum,” a slow drumbeat matching her pulse. It seemed a little slow, she noted. She hadn’t done it consciously; years of apothecary work had trained her body to react on its own.

The racket outside the door continued, and she made out Tianyu’s voice. “Woo… woo… wuuu… wwas.” Nonsensical words that made her want to giggle.

Clean, white bandages gleamed on a shelf. “Ah, yes. I put them there.” Unconsciously, she spoke out loud. It was hard enough putting the words together without making further observations. Teetering, she rose to her feet.

Next, her eye fastened on a spilled jar of “Man Tuo Luo.” The crockery lay in jagged pieces amid the green powder, a child’s jigsaw puzzle. Mao noted how she wanted to get down and put the puzzle together, and the metaphor. This must be the effects of the drug normally used for surgery.

She wished Tianyu would be quiet. His voice made it hard for her foggy mind to think.

“Whaat aaare youuuu doinggg ing ing ing? Oppennn upppp.”

Such a waste of medicine and dangerous to have it spilled like this. She bent to scoop up the drug but thought better of it. Her mind was clearing. Instead of risking stirring up the green powder, she wrapped the bandage around her mouth. It was instinct more than logic; her thoughts remained muddy and slow.

Next, she dragged the fallen shelf away from the door.

Thinking clearer now she remembered the shelf toppling just after she had opened the cabinet of restricted substances. Her hand had been on the jar of Man Tou Luo. “I’ve always wanted to try it,” she said as she finished moving the debris.

Tianyu burst through the door. “Mao, what in the world... Woah...” He tripped, crashing straight into Mao. His hand tore away the bandage as they tumbled to the floor in a billowing cloud of Man Tou Luo’s sleep-inducing powder.

Later, Dr. Li found them sleeping, arms tangled, on the floor. His first thought: surely Mao had taken precautions against pregnancy. Undoubtedly she had, and he nodded to himself. It was Mao, after all.

His second thought was that there would be trouble if Jinshi heard about this. He wouldn’t want to be the young, amorous doctor.

#microfiction #NMPrompts #NMV366 #薬屋のひとりごと @yon @bytebro #LightNovel #Manga #Fantasy

#TimeTravelAuthors 06/28 Balance
#TimeTravelingGhost Part 14

Fallen Angel

Josephine’s act ended, and Ghost sat there, stunned. More than the godlike dancing, it was the joy on Mademoiselle Baker’s face—mischievous, radiant, pure puckish abandon—that stayed with Ghost.

“Would you like to meet the goddess in person?” Countess’s voice broke the spell.

A juggler had taken the stage, balancing a plate on their nose while juggling three balls. The shift was as jarring as vaudeville following Shakespeare at the Globe. Ghost nodded, still too dazzled to trust her voice.

Countess drained her Champagne and snubbed her cigarette in the empty glass, where it briefly sizzled. “Shall we go?” she said softly. The veil had fallen again; red gems sparkled where once were crimson lips and pale skin.

She threaded unsteadily through the tables where tipsy revelers sat, pieces of costume strewn around them. Tinsel clung to her like cosmic threads, a fallen star personified, cast down but radiant still. Voices called out her name: La Comtesse de Pougy, La Duchesse de Gramont, even Madame la Comtesse. She nodded to each with gracious indifference, letting every title stand.

“Who was this woman?” Ghost wondered. The veil was only the beginning—a symbol of an identity woven from shadow. Not even her familiars agreed on her name. The dark hints she dropped made her think perhaps she was someone even older and more sinister than any of them realized. Or perhaps they ignored her subtle hints.

“Madame la Comtesse,” the stage doorman greeted us. “Here to see Mademoiselle Baker? This way, she is expecting you.”

“How are the kids, Louis?” Countess’s voice shifted; no trace of Hungarian remained. It rang with the false warmth of a politician: hearty, too familiar.

“Well, Madame. They were grateful for the gifts.”

“Good. Here is the door we can see ourselves in. Tell the wife I say hi.”

The man hurried back to his station, a smile on his face.

The Countess looked after him, and then in her Hungarian-heavy French asked me, “Do you hate kids too?”

She lit one of her black cigarettes, waiting for an answer that never came, and finally added, “Loathsome creatures. On God’s great balance wheel, less than rats.”

#LesbianHistory

Liane de Pougy: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Liane_de_Pougy
Élisabeth de Gramont: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89lisabeth_de_Gramont

#MicroFiction #NMPrompts #NMTTA #JosephineBaker #CountessElizabethBáthory #Roaring20s #Lesbian #Sapphic

Liane de Pougy - Wikipedia

Drilling for Treacle

#FanFiction #AliceInWonderland

#wss366 06/25

“Treacle,” said the March Hare, emphasizing his point with his teacup.

“Yes,” said Alice. “What about treacle?”

“It's the only thing worth drilling for.”

“Hear, hear,” came a sleepy voice from the sugar bowl. The voice continued so muffled, no one heard “#Mine treacle not coal.”

“What about oil? The government seems quite intent on drilling for that.”

“Silly girl,” The Hatter said, joining in. “Oil is nasty, black, tarry stuff. Have you ever added to your tea?”

“No,” said Alice, not quite understanding the logic.

The March Hare made a nasty face. “Put it in #mine once, tastes terrible. Treacle is much better.”

“I suppose.” Alice couldn’t argue with that. Still...

The Hatter looked at his watch. “Half past the election. They should be buttering up the budget about now.”

“I think not,” said the Cheshire Cat, who had just joined them. “The badgers will be for throwing it in the ocean because the mice got a piece of cheese.”

“No help for it,” The Hatter said. “We have plenty, though,” and passed Alice a large slice of liberty bread thickly buttered.

Alice was just reaching for it when the Hatter snatched it away, saying, “The Dormouse has buttered the wrong side again.”

“Treacle,” said the March Hare, emphasizing his words with the buttered bread he’d gotten his hands on.

“You just said that,” Alice responded.

“He did, but ti’s a new season,” the Hatter said.

“Indeed,” came a voice from the sugar bowl.

#MicroFiction #NMPrompts #NMV366 #MadHatter #MarchHare #DoorMouse #cheshirecat #Tea #Satire

#MastoPrompt 6/25

Riding Double

#FanFiction #AdachiToShimamura

“Look where you’re going,” Shimamura yelled, the wind tearing at her words.

She’d never been sure how Adachi steered the bike while looking at her. That question was now burning up the circuits of her brain, red lights flashing. It took a lot for that to happen. Normally, her brain was half asleep. On a good day, it might be 90% awake, but at the moment, it was running at 200% wakefulness.

It took an intersection full of trucks at the bottom of a hill to wake her up like that. “This is why the school forbade riding double,” she thought. Too late to worry about that—Adachi was staring at her, and the trucks were rumbling past.

“Brake! Brake! Brake!” she yelled.

Adachi blinked and froze. “Never yell at Adachi,” Shimamura thought too late.

“Trucks,” she said, just loud enough to be heard over the rushing air. A small part of her brain analyzed what was happening and marveled at her self-control.

She almost added, “I’ll let you sit between my legs” as a bribe. “No, no, no!” That small part of her brain panicked, screaming. “She’ll freeze.” As though she hadn’t already. But the comment would have locked Adachi into a glacial winter. Its icy depths would have someday yielded mastodons, and a mangled Shimamura.

Adachi looked forward and slammed on the brakes, #decelerating suddenly.

Shimamura—

                      sailing—

                                over—

                                      Adachi—

                                                handlebars.

Time seemed to stop, and a little girl with sparkling blue hair appeared floating in the air. Shimamura drifted into her arms.

“It’s destiny.”

@stevencudahy
#MicroFiction #NMPrompts #NMMP #SliceOfLife #AdachiAndShimamura #安達としまむら #Yuri #Amine #LightNovel #Manga

#TimeTravelAuthors 06/07 Saturday excerpt #Focus
#TimeTravelingGhost Part 10

The ghost and the boy walked through the waking streets of London, threading their way through the bustle of people getting ready for the day. Periodically, they heard shouts of Merry Christmas and other holiday salutations.

Ghost led the way through poor back-alley streets, past mean penny-a-day inns and crowded tenements. But she never hesitated. As long as she focused, he knew where the Cratchits lived. Arriving at a run-down house, the Ghost stopped.

“What’s your name, boy?” Ghost asked. It seemed silly to keep calling him “boy.”

“David, sir, if it pleases you, sir. David Copperfield.”

Ghost nodded, not being well-read. He didn’t recognize the name. She knew enough ghost lore to know the story “A Christmas Carol,” but there were no ghosts in “David Copperfield.”

“This is what you do, David. Knock on the door and say you have a message from Mr. Scrooge. Say he has had a change of heart, and a generous present will soon arrive. Lastly, say that Mr. Scrooge could not pay you to deliver the message, but he was sure the Cratchits would share a meal with you. You can add that line, ‘I’m so hungry,’ if you like. You do it very well. It would melt a heart of stone.”

“And you, sir. Surely you won’t run off now. I shall sorely miss you if you do.” David grabbed at Ghost’s hands, but it was like trying to catch the morning mist.

“I must; I have someone to find,” Ghost said and closed her eyes, imagining a new place and time. A woman’s name popped into her head. “I will visit her.”

Q: Who did Ghost think of, i.e., where shall we go next?

#MicroFiction #NMPrompts #NMTTA #CharlesDickens #pastiche #AChristmasCarol #DavidCopperfield #Poll

Joan of Arc
0%
Amelia Earhart
0%
Countess Elizabeth Báthory
50%
Josephine Baker
50%
Eleanor Roosevelt
0%
Poll ended at .

#CatGames

Overload Mangler Zagato: Want to play mouse again, or do you prefer to be a little bird?

#Poll #Fluff #Sillyness #SillySunday
@ixtlidekami

Mouse
0%
Little bird (titmouse)
20%
Small crawly insect
0%
Piece of fluff
40%
Ball of yarn
20%
Unsuspecting toes
20%
My sisters tail (Unaware lazing in the sun)
0%
Any of the above: Just play will me.
0%
Poll ended at .

#ScribesAndMakers 4/24: Show us an image that inspires your creativity with source.

Candy blushing
Crab apple red
The choke cherry
That never blooms
bursts con amour

Nara Moore Copyright 2025 Do not use in AI

#Waka #和歌 #WakaPoetry #Haiga #俳画
#haiku #poetry #詩 #poetrycommunity
@poetry
#Photography #マストドン写真部 #写真
#urbanphotography #都市写真
#ChokeCherry #上不見桜 #うわみずざくら
#Spring #春

滝夜叉姫を待つ
Waiting for Princess Takiyasha

Steed awaiting
Nightmare’s border
Dread whispers
The Empress’s return
Masakado’s heir

Copyright Nara Moore ©️ Do not use in AI

📷#Photography #マストドン写真部 #写真
🏙️#urbanphotography #都市写真
#Waka #和歌 #WakaPoetry #Haiga #俳画
#haiku #poetry #詩 #poetrycommunity
@poetry
🐸#Frog #かえる #FrogFriday
#Yokai #youkai #妖怪
#滝夜叉姫 #Folklore #伝説 #japaneseMythology

#DailyHaikuPrompt for4/24 #NewLeaves (North)
#ScribesAndMakers 4/24: Show us an image that inspires your creativity with source.

With poetry I am often inspired by images. Ones I collect myself as an amateur urban photographer.

Flower viewing
Daytime lanterns ablaze
Leaves spring
Emerald blades
Fresh, new, reborn

Copyright 2025 Do not use in AI
#PoetryOnTheFly
#Waka #和歌 #WakaPoetry #Haiga #俳画
#haiku #poetry #詩 #poetrycommunity
@dailyhaikuprompt @poetry #NMPrompts
#IsTheOrderARabbit #ご注文はうさぎですか? #GochiUsa #Plushies #SnowDrops