R.M. Grant
LightNews LightNews
filmatra.bsky.social
R.M. Grant
@filmatra.bsky.social
150 followers 880 following 38 posts
26, she/her | Adult Dark Fantasy Author #QueerWriters | Now Querying Saintfire | TTRPG Designer |
Posts Replies Media Videos
filmatra.bsky.social
🛑CW: pain and injury description 🛑

Daud adjusts to his new burns.

#WIPSnips #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
It was another hour and another urn of tangy pickles before he gathered the strength to crawl himself, following Jazmín’s retreat, into the main part of the pickling cellar. Every plodding foot of movement was knives within the muscle and sinew of his right half, but he pushed forwards all the same. Pain was a stranger’s clothes, ill-fitting and unfamiliar and uncomfortable to the point of restricting, but he had to wear it lest he dissolve into naked, senseless blubbering. He took frequent breaks to steady his breath but pushed on all the same. They need me, he repeated, as if a mantra. They need me. He could not die.
November 7, 2025 at 4:10 PM
filmatra.bsky.social
POPPY WAR x STARVING SAINTS
set in the tumult of a reimagined Reconquista
🔥trans + plus-sized protagonists
🔥sacrifice-based magic system
🔥enemies to rivals to lovers
🔥found family forged in ruin
🔥heartwrenching twists

#QuestPit #Q #A #DF #LGBT #own
He was Daud, and he survived. He was Daud, and he would avenge his people. He was Daud, and. SAINTFIRE (the text is accompanied by a hand holding a flame) She would claim the moon as her own. She would wrench it down from the heavens if she had to. Soon, she knew, the moonless girl would have a name.
November 5, 2025 at 2:53 PM
filmatra.bsky.social
A trans assassin who wanted to be a knight. A sorceress who wanted to be a princess.

⚔️He will do whatever it takes to avenge his people
🩸To protect herself, she must sacrifice others

Together they will burn angels and kings

#QuestPit #Q #A #DF #LGBT #own
November 5, 2025 at 11:01 AM
filmatra.bsky.social
A different WIP today; a short story I've been tinkering on for years but am finally attempting to finish and submit.

Today's word appears in the very first paragraph... That feels auspicious.

#WIPSnips #writingcommunity #amquerying
I found God’s name scrawled on a flagstone behind the woman’s lavatory. I was chasing the sounds of your battle, the steel clashing calamitously upon steel, when I was caught up in the tide of clamor and footsteps, of voices jeering and cheering. “What’s happening?” “Prince Indira was peeping on the women’s bathhouse!” “Prince Shura is actually going to kill him!” “Good!” It was in the tumult that I was thrown from my feet and tumbled forwards to the ground.
November 4, 2025 at 4:48 PM
filmatra.bsky.social
Some of my favorite beta reader feedback so far on my #darkfantasy Saintfire
#writingcommunity #amquerying
A series of quotes: - i want to write daud/thahira fanfic so bad it makes me look stupid - OUGH - THAHIRAA - THIS SECTION HAUNTS ME AND I AM OBSESSED WITH THE POSSIBLE IMPLICATIONS - CHILLS. WHAT [redacted] SAID. GOOD ENDING LINE. - Oh Thahira you will always be famous - day #37 of daud on the brain - this whole scene is just so crazy. Obsessed - rosemary i ate it, i ate your book. i liked it so much i ate it - the fact im so agonized should be a compliment to you
November 1, 2025 at 5:33 PM
filmatra.bsky.social
#AgentsGuide to SAINTFIRE, an adult dark fantasy inspired by Berserk, Poppy War, Starving Saints, and The Salt Grows Heavy.

Blood-stained action. Plus-sized, morally-gray witch x sweetheart, scarred transmasc knight turned assassin. Enemies to doomed lovers. Lots more!

#GhostPit #A #C #F
A sword-saint's guide to SAINTFIRE: an adult dark fantasy complete at 125,000 words. "They were forged by cruelty... Now they'll set the world alight." PITCH: "Vengeance is the only prayer they have left." When a tormented former concubine trained in dark magic and a scarred trans swordsman are forced to fight side by side in a gladiatorial arena, their shared hunger for revenge ignites something far greater than themselves: a fire that could burn angels, kings, and their own humanity alike. COMPS: The Starving Saints by Cailtin Starling: Twisted queer love, horrific sacrifices, monstrous villains, and esoteric fantasy. The Poppy War by RF Kuang: Dark bildungsroman, grim setting, and philosophical interrogations of magic The Salt Grows Heavy by Cassandra Khaw: Trans and queer protagonists, found family, tragic ends, and blood-soaked imagery SNEAK PEAK: "Very well. How does one free the soul?" This question, Thahira had thought, was the simplest. Death, of course. Death frees the soul. For a time. Every faith around the world agreed that there was life beyond death. The shaman and scholars of Mircalla believed in the churning moon-wheel of reincarnation. The heretics of the west believed in a conquered heaven, ruled by a long dead man—absurd. Both systems, every system, simply rearranged the deceased from one system of control to another. Even death was not freeing, she realized. It was merely the shuffling of feet. So. How does one free the soul? “By shoveling so much divinity inside oneself that you cannot help but rise, like a balloon filled with fire,” she said. “By capturing so many gods within your stomach that your soul is made divine itself.” So that the maggot can become the fly. Madra’s eyes shone brighter, as if the oblong moon burned from inside each of her twin pupils. Moonlight, silver and blue, reflected off of her teeth from the water beside. “Well, then, my girl. How do you capture a hidden god?” Thahira barked out a single laugh. “Isn’t it obvious?” she asked. “You eat it.”
October 30, 2025 at 3:18 PM
filmatra.bsky.social
SAINTFIRE

🔥 Sacrifice-based magic system
🔥 Struggling against fate
🔥 #ownvoices plus-sized + trans MCs
🔥 Enemies to rivals to doomed lovers
🔥 "only one bed in the gladiatorial cell"
🔥 Reconquista inspired setting
🔥 Found family
🔥 Vampire aes

#GhostPit #A #DF #querying
A 3x3 grid of images including: - two bloody, clawed hands - a sandy medieval alleyway - a burning hand - ominous red stained glass - two hands embracing - a full moon mirrored over water - a body with a burning head underwater - candles - a black haired woman in repose
October 30, 2025 at 10:43 AM
filmatra.bsky.social
Got some feedback from a beta reader who just finished Saintfire.... Oops? 🤭 I warned her it had a tragic ending!

#writingcommunity #amquerying
"but yeah like. exceptionally well written, great characters, enjoyed it to pieces, ending felt like watching a loved one get splattered by a freight train"
October 29, 2025 at 4:29 PM
filmatra.bsky.social
🛑 CW: severe burns mention 🛑

Archbishop Marcellon investigates Daud as a potential candidate for recruitment while he tends to his sweeping and tidying.

#WipSnips #WritingCommunity #DarkFantasy
The blacksmith’s apprentice was lean and underfed, as slaves so often were, but he was also hard, made so by hardship. He was burnt on the right side of his face, and where the flesh had melted it had set like wax, the gray-brown color of an old tree. His right eye was a squint. His right ear was gone, as was part of his lip, baring pale teeth through the darkened skin. The scar ran down under the collar of his tunic and bloomed again on his hand. He was a bit short for a young man of twenty, which would hurt his reach in a fight. Corposance could make up for that, if he had the knack for it. His grip on the broomhandle seemed strong as he swept, even on the weaker right hand. The apprentice’s eyes were both cautious and curious, focused intently from across the room even as he tended to his tidying and sweeping. Good, Marcellon thought. An apprentice can get far on keenness alone.
October 29, 2025 at 3:18 PM
filmatra.bsky.social
🛑 CW: nudity, burn mention 🛑

Daud recalls his first encounter with the Witch's Manikin, a costumed, heretical knight

#WIPSnips #writingcommunity
That was when Daud saw him. At the far end of the lane, a man in silver. He wore no crest, flew no banner. The armor did not belong to Divinity. It was, to the plate, a visage. ‘Visage’ as a word sounded as wicked as the crime it described. To imitate the human form in any still image was heresy. Yet this man wore silvery steel sculpted to resemble rippling thigh, calf, abdomen and bicep, flaccid cock and scowling face, all in sparse segments a few hands long over robes of black. It was the same scowling face that still burned like a brand into the meat of Daud’s right eye.
October 28, 2025 at 12:22 PM
filmatra.bsky.social
🛑 CW: animal and people violent death 🛑

When confronted with horrific violence, Thahira is reminded of a blood-curdling memory.

#WIPSnips #writingcommunity
Thahira thought of Isogul. In the heart of the city was a moonless camp. A culture made on the fringe. Floors and walls built of thrown-out blankets. Broken furniture carved into divine idols. Constant prayer. Kindness, even from those who were shown no kindness. In the heart of the camp was a pen peopled by fowl. Nearly sacred. Their eggs were collected and handed down, one to every woman and child. When the town was wanting and the merchants tightened their belts, when the storefronts kept even their fatty scraps to render into tallow, some of the birds were caught and slain. Every part of the body was used—bones for stock, blood for curd. The meat was pared out into gifts and handed around in offering, palm to waiting palm. Thahira remembered the first time she brought a scrap of the meat up to her lips, warm and crisp, juice rolling down her chin. She’d never eaten something warm before. It was lifeblood. It was salvation. Then Thahira thought of the screams. Embers danced up into the black sky like fall leaves in the wind. The moonlit men bundled up the salvaged blankets and threw them into the heap, swallowed up into the flames. They didn’t even eat the chickens. They led their dogs, barking and scraping and white in the mouth, to the pen and kicked it open. They set them loose. She watched through splayed fingers as the dogs ripped around the pen, catching and thrashing, catching and thrashing. The sacred chickens screamed and died, the sacred blood pooling into the dirt. Wings and feathers torn away, chomped to pieces in the mouths of dogs. Even as people were beaten that night, even as they were killed, it was the chickens that she couldn’t forget. Lifeless bird eyes, used to being treated so tenderly, staring helplessly up into the churning black overcast. Thahira thought of the chickens as the Bared White Fang tore his way through the guards and the noblemen of the Pit. Caught and thrashed, caught and thrashed. The Vapour on his hands was flared like fire, and every body he touched kindled and caught aflame. Most of the men fell to pieces from his attacks. They were lucky. The others died screaming, burning away to ash as they still lived.
October 27, 2025 at 12:10 PM
filmatra.bsky.social
P.S.: his inspiration came from the question "what if Killua Zoldyck didn't escape his family until he was much older and even more jaded?" Iykyk
October 26, 2025 at 7:22 PM
filmatra.bsky.social
Saintfire lightning round
1. The Severn Expanse
2. The desert is harsh enough to be uninhabited except by travelers, except at the fringes
3. It stretches from an Iberian inspired region all the way to the borders of the equivalent of the Indian subcontinent
4. Ibex, lizards, carrion birds, &c
October 26, 2025 at 3:51 PM
filmatra.bsky.social
Beautiful art of my book #saintfire protagonists Thahira and Daud looking SO similar to how I imagine them in the early chapters (art by @galpalzzz on twitter) #amquerying #writingcommunity #DarkFantasy
Black and white art of two figures. To the left is a woman with dark hair, thick eyebrows, and a angular features. She looks off to the right distrustfully. To the right is a transgender man with short, curly blond hair and an innocent expression. He is covered in serious burns over the right side of his face; his eye is squinted shut, his lip is pulled up, and he is missing his right ear. Both wear medieval attire, though this is more implied than shown.
October 26, 2025 at 10:38 AM