ambrosiaiswriting

[ambrosiaiswriting]

HAPPY FLORUKKAH ↳ ft. ARIA DRAFT 1

my e-spouse, my beloved pris @serpentarii has done it again (made graphics for the holidays) ILYSM KITHES MWAH

↳ and featuring select excerpts from the perspective of florizel “vegan in spirit but not in practice” von hauenstein

transcripts and taglist under cut (send an ask/dm to be +/-!):

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[ambrosiaiswriting]

[ambrosiaiswriting]

BODYLINE; a @derridaspectres wip intro

genre: sports drama, pulp, murder mystery, noir 

status: drafting 

cws: violence, death, blood and gore, self-harm, alcohol abuse, unhealthy relationships, discussions of classism, casteism, and anti-indigenous and religious discrimination

elevator pitch: whiplash (2014) meets raymond chandler, expect they’re all talented and deeply obsessive sapphic cricketers. 

summary: 

The river water had had its way with Ekta Munda by the time the cops found the body. The thick-dark spill of her hair was knotted through with water hyacinth and her flesh was marbled white. Her face, they said, lay frozen in a death-rictus smile…

Kriti Sinha and Ekta Munda were once a devastating, inseparable batting duo. On the cricket pitch they terrorised opposing bowlers, racked up unthinkable run totals, and for a brief and glorious moment lay siege to the impenetrable walls of the ‘gentleman’s game’. But when they were both sixteen, a fateful match and a keen-eyed headhunter sent their lives hurtling in different directions: Ekta’s to the fame and fortune of franchise cricket, Kriti’s to the unspeakable mundanity of assistant coaching her old (and patently terrible) high school team. 

That probably would have been the end of it, too, if Ekta’s dead body hadn’t been found floating in a river days after her most successful franchise season to date. And while the rest of the cricketing world seemed content to express, ad infinitum, their deep sorrow at the death of such a promising young player, her old partner suspects foul play. Grieving and paranoid, Kriti makes a desperate bid to wrangle her way into Ekta’s old team in order to conduct a private, off-the-books investigation. 

But Kriti soon realises that the glamorous face of franchise cricket has an underbelly darker and seedier than she could have ever imagined– to keep her wits, and indeed her life, about her, she can’t trust anyone. Not the team’s glamorous and stunningly beautiful actress owner; not the sainted playing eleven their seethingly jealous substitutes; and certainly not Arya Pandey, the icy and prodigious opening batsman whose contempt for Kriti is only matched by their incredibly effective partnership on the pitch together. Arya bats like a dream and behaves like a living nightmare, but there’s something about her that Kriti just can’t ignore– something dark and compelling… and maybe even murderous? 

what to expect from this wip: long, loving descriptions of bombay, cricket and playing cricket in bombay | complicated relationships | unreliable narration | meditations on sport as nation and sport as religion | the dehumanisation of fame | corruption, conspiracy and scandal | prose that’s just seven raymond chandler impersonations in a trenchcoat | ‘they’re all gay but trust me, that’s the LEAST of their problems’

please ask if you would like to be +/- from the taglist! 

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[ambrosiaiswriting]

MAHARANI ♕ AN EXCERPT

lovebirds again, but they’re still falling in love 

A/N: i haven’t actually written anything in a million years but i saw this earlier and simply had to post it bc it’s literally about them and it’s easier to write them than anyone else lolol i’ve been uninspired lately so hopefully this gets the wheels turning again <3

transcript & taglist under the cut! (ask to be +/-)

taglist:  @diariodelfern  / @shakunthalas / @engelboy / @parttimeghost / @phantomnations

transcript:

He falls over, one hand draped dramatically across his forehead, but the other accidentally swipes across the board, taking their pieces— and Lalitha’s winning game— along with it. He sits up quickly, mouth twisted apologetically, but all Lalitha does is laugh. It strikes both of them, bringing out his own smile of relief, but Lalitha could not care less about the game. This was not the first time she has had him at checkmate and they both know it will not be the last, but something about their entire night has her giddy and it’s pulling laughter out of her as if she will never run out. 

It’s a brilliant feeling, sparkling in the very center of her chest, and Lalitha thinks she could get drunk on it everyday.

Nirav runs an embarrassed hand through his hair, making it flop messily over his forehead and Lalitha might have somehow actually gotten drunk because all she wants to do is push it back. Or mess it up even more.

Carefully, they begin resetting the game, lining the black and white marble pieces on their respective sides. Nirav watches each piece, placing them in order from left to right. Lalitha watches him. His hand as he holds every piece as if it were delicate tile rather than unbreakable marble. His mouth as he bites his cheek in concentration.

She needs to get a grip. She gathers her own pieces in her palm, letting them clink together before lining them up. She feels reckless.

Lalitha cannot remember the last time she felt reckless. Every action she has ever made has been intentional, calculated, every outcome assessed. If it was considered, the consequences of leaning over and grazing his pointed cheekbones with her fingertips were unlikely to be unwanted. He is no longer engaged, or betrothed, or whatever it was with Rani. He made it a point to sit next to her, to walk with her, to talk to her. He is in her chambers at a very late hour that was prone to making minds wander.

Before she can psych herself out, she asks the question that has been plaguing her since the rooftop, turning her gaze to the pieces on the board. “I just realized.”

When she does not continue, he asks, “Realized what?”

“You never got the chance to answer Manthara’s question. Have you ever been in love?”

[ambrosiaiswriting]

invented a chess opening called the lovers gambit where you toss the pieces aside and start kissing your opponent on the table

[ambrosiaiswriting]

GINGER-ROOT; a short story by @derridaspectres

intertexts: [“ginger” - jana salnikova / “ginger-root” by @derridaspectres / “my mother & i” - lucy dacus / “ginger-root”, ibid. ]

cws: plant horror, mentions of throwing up, auto-cannibalism (i promise it makes sense in context), mommy issues, implied violence and murder 

themes: grief and loss, complex parental relationships, the sublime beauty and horror of the natural world

summary: a disaffected college grad returns home and grapples with the shadow of her vanished mother, her complex feelings towards her familial occupation, and a very tenacious case of embodied overgrowth. 

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[ambrosiaiswriting]

i come from a long line of unreliable narrators

[ambrosiaiswriting]

i love characters who lie. i love when a character is established as a capital L Liar and then we as the audience can't take anything they say at face value. i love liars fakers schemers deceivers. characters whose tongues are outright necrotic with the rot of their lies. characters to whom truth is a stranger. i am kissing them on the lips btw it tastes disgusting

[ambrosiaiswriting]

unreliable narrator this unreliable narrator that what about unreliable reader? what about there are multiple narrators and the reader makes the mistake of believing them all?

[ambrosiaiswriting]

maharani taglist update!

it’s been a bit since i’ve regularly posted about maharani, i decided to revamp my taglist! i’m tagging everyone currently on it, please like or comment on this post if you want to stay/want to be added. thanks <3

current taglist:  @simshollow / @diariodelfern / @feanor / @writingbyjillian / @sea-witch-pending / @perditism / @oasis-of-you / @the-orangeauthor / @mr-writes / @houndmouthed

[ambrosiaiswriting]

MAHARANI ♕ AN EXCERPT

spoiler alert! all is not well with our two lovebirds

A/N: hello! i’ve been writing a lot recently, here’s a favorite with no context. most of what i’ve written has been from manthara’s pov actually so here’s something from lalitha’s. i need to start writing my girls equally but manthara is so much fun! i’ll probably post something of hers soon. see u next time!

transcript under the cut!

TRANSCRIPT:

And then Nirav. Stupid, beautiful Nirav at the next stall, rummaging through a box of some fruit and entirely unaware of the intensity at which the axis of his world has shifted. His hair is shining yet imperfect with tufts sticking out like it always does when he keeps running his fingers through it. His skin glints in the sunshine, delicate and teasing, and the back of his shirt sticks to his back. He’s humming. Lalitha can see the apple of this throat bobbing up and down like a bottle tossed aside in the ocean, and she knows it is likely some intricate piece meant for the nimble strings of a veena or violin rather than his voice, but he will hum it anyway, hitting every note. She liked it when he hummed, the notes melting like honey and only a sliver of what he was actually capable of. Sometimes, his lips would part and his humming tune would slip into a full song and Lalitha would swallow it as if she had never know the taste of something so sweet.

Lalitha thinks she might hate him. The feeling is large and all-encompassing, weighing heaviest on her belly, right underneath her ribcage. She cannot hear his melody but it sounds like a taunt anyway. A tragedy drenched in betrayal.

[ambrosiaiswriting]

manthara is gentle, lalitha is kind. not the other way around. there’s a difference! there’s a difference there’s a difference because when u meet them u can trick urself into thinking that they’re both kind or they’re both gentle but, really, manthara is gentle in that when she lies it is to protect you or when she is upset she will still hold you and that she never raises her voice, never glares, never bristles, but only on the surface, only outwards because even if she is gentle she is still lying and still upset. she masks her unkindness with gentleness. lalitha is kind in that if she trusts you, it is with all of her, and she thinks of others before she thinks of herself and she believes in the people she cares about and she will get angry and roll her eyes and stand up for herself but she does it even more to others so she is not gentle with her kindness, but it is true kindness which makes her who she is

[ambrosiaiswriting]

MAHARANI ♕ AN EXCERPT

With the same power comes the inevitable ability to share it, but Seema and Manthara are not that kind of mother and daughter. There are things they would rather not share.

A/N: hey besties, was on a bit of a writing high last week and then a bunch of personal stuff happened and now i am slumped again so hopefully posting something will give me the adrenaline high i need to start writing again. there are a couple segments i’m proud of but i cannot post without major spoilers so this is what you get! hope you guys like it :)

transcript and taglist under the cut (ask to be +/-!)

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[ambrosiaiswriting]

LITTLE BY LITTLE

HI IM VERY EXCITED ABOUT THIS SILLY LITTLE STORY. it is:

a feel good lighthearted story about a bunch of kids in high school 👍

one half enemies to lovers romance, other half queerplatonic coming of age 🤨

dual storyline following two annoying siblings who will die for each other 🤱

set in chennai because i want to draw the city i grew up in and have a crisis over not having seen it enough 🤯

me deciding to compensate for my non existent final years of high school via fiction because who needs therapy tbh 🤔

BLURB

It’s Sameera’s last year of high school, and everything’s going her way: she’s a student council head, the captain of the girl’s Kho-Kho team, and she’s liked by almost everyone in her grade. Almost. Frigid, uptight Kayalvizhi, fellow council head, is the lone exception. Their first interaction was a nightmare, and while Sameera is told that Kayalvizhi’s just indifferent to everyone around her, she still feels personally attacked. So when the two of them are paired up as the cultural leaders for their school’s end-of-year ceremony, she’s more than thrilled to prove Kayal wrong by outshining her in everything. Too bad the latter’s determined to shut Sameera up by competing just as fiercely. What neither of them expects, though, is to find common ground, or to realise that the other person isn't who they thought they were, or, god forbid, actually start to enjoy each other’s company.

Anbu is a reserved kid, Sameera’s younger sibling by two years and the apple of every teacher’s eyes. Still just getting used to adolescence, Anbu is, to say the least, a bit disoriented. They’re exploring their confusing world, trying out new hobbies, grappling with their gender identity and pushing the limits of the life they’ve led so far. But right when they think they’ve got it all figured out, change hits them between the eyes in the name of Tamizh—their cool, mysterious neighbour who’s come back from Mumbai years after moving away. Anbu and Tamizh were childhood best friends, but that's childhood, and they know better than anyone else that adolescence upends everything with a rage. As the two’s rekindled friendship begins to deepen, Anbu is left questioning whether they see him as a friend, a crush, or something else entirely.

At least one thing’s certain for them all: this will be an unforgettable year.

CHARACTERS

SAMEERA. she/her, bi. annoying ass extroverted jock mf. everyones fave gremlin. needs constant love and validation or else she will perish

ANBU. they/them, trans. former sweetheart now saddled with a growing bloodthirst. going through too much all at once and is on the verge of emotional burnout.

KAYALVIZHI. she/her, trans, lesbian. moody ass introverted nerd mf. hates every single person to ever grace this planet and i love her so much actually

TAMIZH. he/him, aro. Resident Cool Kid™ except he feels very uncool and very unchill, ball of nerves just barely keeping it together. is unlearning a lot of toxic beliefs on gender and he’s doing it with style.

SO WHATS THE DEAL HERE

idk what happened in the last two years but i’ve gone from being a prose hoe to a webcomic bitch and it has been working out great for me. comics are such a brilliant format for someone who’s equal parts artist and writer and recently all my important all-consuming story ideas have been webcomic ideas and im so excited to get to make them!!

there are two parts to this story, two parallel arcs, one for each sibling: sameera’s enemies to lovers story with kayal and anbu’s queerplatonic coming of age thing with tamizh. i think the main inspiration behind this was a) bridgerton season two which was the first time i actually ENJOYED an enemies-to-lovers romance and which made me go hmm yanno what. i’m going to do the same but without british people. b) me realising that as much as i love romance and writing romantic relationships i also would like to write a queerplatonic relationship please and thank you [it is endlessly amusing to me that my favourite genre is romance despite me being aromantic lmao] and i esp wanted to try writing a qpr from the pov of the non-aromantic character, just for that extra spice!

in the very short time ive had these four they’ve taken over my brain completely and i love it so much!! im currently working to on getting the basic prep work done [character turnarounds, uniform designs, bg models etc etc] and i’ll post updates on progress whenever i feel like lmao

[ambrosiaiswriting]

MAHARANI ♕ AN EXCERPT

With the same power comes the inevitable ability to share it, but Seema and Manthara are not that kind of mother and daughter. There are things they would rather not share.

A/N: hey besties, was on a bit of a writing high last week and then a bunch of personal stuff happened and now i am slumped again so hopefully posting something will give me the adrenaline high i need to start writing again. there are a couple segments i’m proud of but i cannot post without major spoilers so this is what you get! hope you guys like it :)

transcript and taglist under the cut (ask to be +/-!)

TAGLIST:  @simshollow / @diariodelfern / @feanor / @writingbyjillian / @sea-witch-pending / @perditism / @oasis-of-you / @fablewritten / @the-orangeauthor / @mr-writes / @houndmouthed

TRANSCRIPTION:

Manthara knows it's going to be a long day the moment she walks into the meeting room. Seema's mind is open, slyly inviting, drowning the warning bells clanging behind her ears.

She has never seen her mother's mind so welcoming and it twists something in her throat. Despite their ability to share visions, it was never something Seema took advantage of. Other than a rare fleeting vision shoved in her direction, she and her mother had long ago agreed that some parts of their abilities were better left untouched. Too much could be revealed in a mind that unguarded.

And yet, Seema's visions flood Manthara's head before she has  even sat down. It is suffocating, filling in every open crevice of her brain with nonsensical images and half-spoken sentences. For a moment Manthara is afraid it is one of the debilitating visions, something so violent that it would take someone else to lure her out of it, but this is different. Before she can even gasp, it's stuffed down. It is so many layers of emotions and thoughts that it cancels itself out, instantly muffled to her ears.

Is this what her mother's visions looks like?

Manthara barely finds her way to her chair. Her voice is lodged in her throat underneath everything she is swallowing down so instead, she desperately tries to catch her mother's eye.

Seema's eyes are on the table but her gaze is unfocused, in another realm entirely.

When Rani and her mother settle down beside them, Seema finally glances up, catching Manthara's eye, but the contact is fleeting. Her eyes remain on her but her mind goes hazy again, just for a moment, before Manthara feels her come back.

One moment, Seema is dissolved, accessible, and in the next, she is once again the straight-backed maharishi everyone in Pallava fears.

With her demeanor goes her visions, disintegrating in Manthara's mind until she's left with empty spaces and an itchy throat. She coughs just once. Seema is actually looking at her now, guard up and mind back where it belongs, but Manthara doesn't need their connection to understand the question behind her stare. Did you see anything you weren't supposed to?

Manthara gives her mother an awkward smile, hoping she understands. How could she have seen anything in that commotion?

Just like that, the moment is gone. Manthara can barely find the edges of Seema's consciousness to even consider peeking in her head, as if her defenses were never down in the first place.

A hand touches her own and Manthara startles, looking up at a concerned Rani. "Are you alright?"

This time, the smile fits right on to her mouth. The last thing she needs to do is worry Rani right now. "Of course, just lost in my thoughts."

Rani raises an eyebrow.

"Normal thoughts. I believe I'm fresh out of the life-changing kind."

Rani's scoff is humorless. "Thank the earth for that, then."

[ambrosiaiswriting]

BLOG REINTRO

notice how i said blog and not writeblr 🤔 that's cause this isn't just a writeblr anymore! i draw a lot [im literally going to attend a design college] and my current consuming-all-my-thoughts ideas are all webcomics so this blog will now be a mix of both writing and art stuff [just like a webtoon fr fr]

ANYWAY HI!! im al, they/them, tamil, and ive done this like seven times now im very tired guys. you might have seen me on here as @/alicewestwater before i changed it to fit my rat cook movie obsession. my biggest hobby is stalking around the house whispering to myself about my ocs while my family watches in horror and confusion. stuff im doing rn [other than your mom rofl rofl]:

gonna start my first year of college! ill be living in a new city and rooming with friends but most importantly i will be taking at least three of my stuffed animals along with me

love love love orange. there isn't a better colour. i will gladly fight anyone on this.

you know how you often have that one song stuck in your head? well, i have this oc pairing called luniper and they have been living rent-free in my head for years now can someone kick them out please 🙂

queer as hell!! i’m aromantic and trans and you will find that every single one of my wips has a short feral character who’s either aro or trans or both because #projecting

my biggest flaw as a person is that i use the 🤔 emoji so often i don't even know if it's ironic or not anymore

also my sense of humour is akin to that of a 12-year-old white boy, sorry in advance

i am currently going through my sad bitch phase so if you see me whisking up another coming-of-age young adult novel about kids in their last year of high school just look in the other direction please.

MY WIPS

LITTLE BY LITTLE: queer south indian coming of age webcomic! follows siblings sameera and anbu being disasters and dealing with really good-looking rivals, rekindled childhood friendships and b*ard exams.

SOMETHING BORROWED, SOMETHING BORNE: ya novel about three best friends in their last year of high school. follows vincent, the sleep-deprived art kid stressing out over college, madhavan, the popular guy who has no idea what he’s doing in life and rivers, the laidback resident Cool Kid who’s still reeling from a loss of family. idk what the plot is yet but the characters are spicy

A MILLION HOMES AND NONE OF THEM IS YOURS: litfic novella about a mother-daughter duo who find themselves in a dangerous, magical world after a fight and are forced to sort out their tumultuous relationship in order to find their way back before the mother’s pregnancy is due.

also final note i love stories about queer people of colour in either wholesome contemporary settings or insane off-the-charts morally grey fantasy worlds so if that sounds like something you’re writing let’s chat!

[ambrosiaiswriting]

MAHARANI ♕ AN EXCERPT

Sometimes the greatest powers can feel like the cruelest of curses, even if that isn’t the case.

A/N: hey besties, definitely has not been a year since I posted Maharani content what do you mean? i’m slowly but surely writing again, and this is the best of the very little i have so far that is at least a little coherent out of context. as a treat. i think i’m finally finding my footing with this piece, so hopefully more excerpts are to come in the next few months! 

transcription under the cut (ask to be +/-)

TRANSCRIPTION:

“You are a seer?”

One of the earliest things Manthara learned was how to lie. Or rather, the power of omission. Born from her mother’s mistrust of everyone around her, Manthara knows the benefits of letting people beg for information. Why must she make herself vulnerable if the action is not to be requited? The voice, like for every lesson she has learned, is in her mother’s voice, constant and unwavering.

This woman is breaking down every lesson she has ever learned.

Manthara’s visions are her armor, no matter how fallible. The unreliability was the strongest defense against other seers, and yet the woman lures her in with practiced ease. It’s okay. Who will she tell?

“Yes.” 

“How do you mask it like you do?”

On the other hand, answers have equal value, and Manthara wants her own. She thinks for a moment, what would Rani do? How would Rani work this situation in her favor? It isn’t her own tongue, but Rani’s that says, “You never said anything about extra questions.”

The woman responds as if she expected it. “That is for people who have prophecies. If I am to let you through, I must gain something, should I not?”

Swallowing, Manthara sits up straighter. “I’m not going to sit here and tell you my life story simply for passage into [redacted]. It is more valuable than that.” 

The woman raises an eyebrow, but it isn’t an angry one. “Then tell me, child. What is your life story worth?”

Any sense of surprise that her false confidence worked is drowned by the woman’s question. What is her life story worth? What is twenty years of head-pounding visions and an inability to explain any of them worth?

“I get my own questions.” Her voice cracks but neither of them acknowledge it.

The woman does not hesitate. “Answer enough questions that I am satisfied and you get one question with your entry.”

Manthara does not push a hand that feeds her. “Fine.”

When the woman smiles, it isn’t sweet. Manthara wonders what her name is, and if it is too late to ask. “Wonderful. Now that we have reached an agreement, were you cursed or blessed?”

“Born with it.”

She does not hide the disdain when she repeats, “Cursed or blessed, child.”

Cursed is on her tongue and Manthara clamps her mouth over it before it slips out. It would not be fair to discredit her ancestors when the issue lies with her. Just because she is unable to fully comprehend her visions does not mean she was cursed, but the feeling remains. The word is tattooed on the roof of her mouth and out of sight but she can taste it. It taunts her with every vision, dangling just out of reach, not allowing her the satisfaction of justifying her shortcomings. 

There is also the matter of her mother taking her head if she even dares utter the word.

“Blessed.” The answer does not choke her and only then does she breathe out.