#knack masterpost

[ohraicodoll]

Ghost

QZ!Joel x Female Reader 7.6K Words/ 3rd POV One-Shot Masterpost Summary: She was used to being invisible but being seen was nice. And Joel saw her. But he also belonged to Tess. Warnings: Language. 18+ Minors DNI. Angst, Jealousy, Longing, Smut, PiV, Pull Out, Being a little rough, No use of Y/N A/N: Part of my 1200 Follower prompts. A new reader for once! And who doesn't love deep yearning and jealousy.

Tommy had been the one to bring her on. 

She had a knack for getting information and getting into hard places, dexterous and fast and quiet, and he thought she would be a good help to their group. She was able to overhear and get info without being noticed, in and out and hiding in the darkness. Tess the planner, Tommy the charmer, Joel the brawn, and her the shadow.

It had taken a while to ease into an already formed group, years honing their dynamic and leaving her on the outside. She was quiet, kept to herself, watched, very much the shadow they had brought her in to be. Observant but separate. It’s how she had survived for so long in the QZ.

Tommy tried to ease her in, get her to relax in that easy way he was able to. Made jokes, an arm slung around her shoulder, pulling her away from the corners of the room and smack in the middle with them with a, “C’mon, little ghost, you’re off duty.�� It helped but Tess never quite had the same rapport as with the others, looking at her only for what she could bring to the table and not who she was as a person. The woman was logistical by nature. She weighed her worth and found her wanting.

And Joel…he was Joel. Gruff, blunt, looking at her under furrowed brows and crossed arms and communicating more in grunts than words. He was a guard dog, distrustful and quick to bite at whoever Tess pointed him to, half the time under the influence of whatever alcohol and pills they had smuggled. He didn’t play around and wanted things done his way, a stone splitting the stream and refusing to change ways.

She’d always been good at reading people and didn’t bother trying to win them over.

But there were perks to working with them. Ration cards became a little less scarce, the predatory gleam of eyes on her switched more to caution and wariness, and life got a little easier. She became known by association and that came with protection. 

The ones that didn’t learn, that made comments or grabbed her arm when she ignored them, figured it out quickly. Tommy was fast to make it clear she was with them, ready to throw fists at the slightest comment and at her side like an angry older brother. She didn’t ask him to defend her, was used to scraping by with a knife she sharpened often and staying quick on her feet. But it was nice to have the support.

It was Joel that surprised her.

She had considered herself little priority in his mind, a stray his brother had brought home that he had to deal with. Inconsequential. But more often than not he would be there before she could blink, large hands pushing her behind him or those fists brutally squeezing the arm of whoever grabbed her. She was a shadow but he was a storm cloud, coming in swift and angry and growling at whoever bothered her that if they so much as looked at her again he would break their teeth in. Tommy was loud and sharp, but in those moments she could see why Joel was the guard dog. 

He was terrifying.

It made it more baffling that he was guarding her. 

His eyes, dark and angry, would flicker to her and look her over before grunting and guiding her wherever she needed to go with a hand on her lower back. Most of the time it was back to their apartment, even if she hadn’t meant to go there or was intending to go to her own place. Like he needed to keep an eye on her a little while longer.

Maybe it was just part of being in their group.

When she was too busy, she would come back to him being there, shoving food into her hands with the complaint that she was getting too skinny. If she hadn’t come by the apartment in a few days, Tommy would show up to check on her with a passing comment that Joel had made him. Any injury Joel was quick to push pain medication into her hands or ration cards would mysteriously get added to her wallet and he would grunt at her to take a few days off.

It was hard not to get attached to the Miller brothers. Their protectiveness, the way they cared out loud and secretly. How they didn’t downplay her strength and skills and trusted her to do what she could, but not without worry.

She was used to being invisible but being seen was nice.

But Joel belonged to Tess. It wasn’t ever said outright but it was in the way they moved around each other. A dance neither of them had to think about, the way their eyes found each other, Joel going to check on her first during scrapes and anytime they ran into infected outside the QZ. Sometimes when curfew was late and she couldn’t make it back to her place, she would crash at their apartment. Tommy would be passed out on the cot, having given her the couch, and she would try to ignore the pang when she noticed Tess and Joel go into the same room together. 

It made sense, but left an ache of longing she thought she had pushed away.

Then Tommy joined the Fireflies and started to pull away.

She kept an eye on him, listened to the whispers and kept track of the Fireflies and FEDRA and made sure he was okay. When they were in the apartment, Joel and him would get into it, Tess chiming in but mostly silent as they argued about purpose and a better world. He tried to convince her once to join but she couldn’t make herself pretend that she cared about the grander scheme of things. FEDRA was a shitshow but it was more firm than the pipe dream the Fireflies believed in. Better the devil you know.

Tommy would show up at her door more often than not, sleeping on her couch if only because the fights with Joel were increasing. She didn’t argue with him, didn’t berate him for his choices, just became a silent comfort while he sulked. He went on runs less, the absence of him large in their four person dynamic.

And then he was gone. 

She tried not to take his leaving personally, but it was hard not to. He was the tether between her and Tess and Joel, the one that made her feel like she wasn’t only an asset but that there was a bond between them. And he’d left, leaving her unmoored.

Joel withdrew more, Tess became sharper and more critical, snappier. Her work increased but never felt lonelier.

She couldn’t quite figure out her place anymore. The loss of Tommy almost felt like an end to her work with them, but there were still strings keeping her attached no matter how tight she tried to pull them loose. Joel became more protective somehow. Would find her on rooftops and tell her to go home and rest. Almost broke the jaw of a man at the bar who had grabbed her ass. Snapped at one of Robert’s men when he condescended to her during negotiations.

He had practically carried her and forced her to sit down when she slightly sprained her ankle navigating some of the city ruins during a run. The rain had made everything slick and she had lost her footing while scouting a pathway. It hadn’t even been a big deal but he’d notice the slight limp and picked her up before she could protest. Tess had rolled her eyes and went to look over their supplies while Joel had taken off her shoe, checking the limb meticulously while berating her under his breath for not being careful enough. He had even ripped the bottom of his shirt to use as a makeshift compression wrap, thumb rubbing soothing circles into her skin as he wrapped it around her.

“Don’t know what I’m gonna do with you,” he had muttered, the tone softer than she was expecting. 

He’d forced her to stay back on the next run and she had felt useless, wondering if they saw her as a burden if she couldn’t do her one job.

Tess would stare at her sometimes, lips pressed together as if trying to decide if she was worth the help. It was never out of malice or hatred, but calculation. Like she was weighing the pros and cons of her presence now that Tommy wasn’t around to tip the scales. She was almost sure that Joel’s growing protectiveness weighed in, her guard dog getting distracted.

She doubted it. Joel was Tess’ first and foremost. 

Yet more often, she was getting left behind. The excuse of her skills not being needed or that it was a quick job came about. Sometimes there wasn’t any excuse and they’d just be gone for days at a time. 

She’d still get her split, still find ration cards in her wallet when left unattended or would feel Joel’s presence when she’d walk through the alleys where business was done. The echo of him everywhere.

She avoided staying over at what was now Joel and Tess’ apartment but couldn’t always. When she had no choice, she would lay there late at night on the couch and tried to ignore the rustling of fabric in the other room, the murmured voices and breaths. The apartment walls were paper thin and she could practically feel the low tenor of Joel’s whispers.

But they weren’t for her.

She wasn’t an idiot. She knew that somehow she had developed a crush on Joel no matter how rough and dangerous he was or the logic that he wasn’t interested. Some nights she wished it had been Tommy, how much easier it would have been with him instead of the unavailable older Miller. But she hadn’t felt that way with him. His touch didn’t burn every time he brushed her skin or breath shake when they were close together in the darkness, his hand pressed along her back as they waited for paths to clear. 

Tommy had been cheerful and boyish even during dark times, but Joel had drawn her in with his salt and paper hair, furrowed eyes, and that look that screamed experience and being able to take care of her. She had never even cared about that before, being taken care of. Joel had a way of making you want his attention. 

Maybe it was why Tess held onto him so tight. It must be intoxicating to have all that focus on you, lips brushing your skin and tilted in something other than a frown while calloused, worn hands held you. It was hard not to want that. To be seen. Years of quiet, of sticking to shadows and scrounging and surviving alone. No family, no friends, living on the outside. 

It was safer that way. She couldn’t lose what she didn’t have.

Now she had lost that comfort. Tommy had left and she had never felt more alone even with Tess and Joel. Because they had each other and she was the outsider. 

She was back to being a ghost. Maybe it was for the best.

It made sense then when another group asked her for help on a run. It was business, nothing more. She had a skillset that was in demand and it wouldn’t step on Tess’ interests, especially as she could see the woman still weighing her value and how often she was left behind. A simple run to supplement the work she was already doing.

The group was inexperienced and more than once one of the guys, Jason or Jared or something, tried to proposition her. But it wasn’t an awful couple of days and she felt a little more assured in her skill compared to them. Especially when she was the one that had to direct them when they almost got caught sneaking back into the QZ.

She got a break from Boston, a good share of the loot, and the feeling of being needed warm in her belly.

But she hadn’t made it more than halfway to her quiet lonely apartment before a large hand wrapped around her arm and dragged her to a different set of buildings. Fear didn’t flare as she knew exactly whose hands they were, could see the shape of him outlined in the cast off of the spotlights even as they traveled in the darkness to avoid FEDRA.

Joel had never handled her like that though. Anger and frustration radiated off of him with every step and when they got to his place he practically tossed her inside, locked the door, and stood there with his leg cocked and both hands on his hips, “Where the fuck have you been?”

“What the fuck, Joel?” she hissed back, teeth clenched as she looked at him with wide eyes, “You can’t just drag me here-”

“I’ve been looking all over the goddamn QZ for you only to hear you went on a job with fucking Carter?” he snarled, taking a step toward her.

She scoffed and shrugged, voice still raspy from being quiet though she had always been soft spoken, “Okay? Yes, I was on a job. What’s the big deal?”

He looked down like he was trying to collect himself, taking slow breaths though his jaw ticked and nostrils flared, “Carter is a fucking moron who is gonna get you killed. You didn’t even tell me, you simply took off-”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware you were my keeper?” she snapped back, “Besides you and Tess take off plenty of times without telling me, but I guess it’s only okay when she says, right? God forbid I do anything without her approval.”

Joel frowned, eyes darkening with anger and a tinge of confusion, “The fuck you getting at?”

She was tired, dirty, and didn’t want to be arguing with him but couldn’t help the way her body tingled under his gaze. But there was so much bitterness under the surface, her mind on repeat reminding her that he wasn’t hers and was only mad because it would mean losing her as an asset, “Nothing, Miller, I’m going home.”

His hand gripped her arm when she tried to move passed him to the door, “The hell you are-”

“Why do you care?” she tried to shake her arm out of his hold but he held on tight, not letting her go so easily, “You both have made it perfectly clear you’re more than capable without me so I found a group that actually wants my help. What’s it matter to you?”

“It matters because I don’t trust them with you,” he snarled, stepping in so close they were almost chest to chest, “I don’t trust them to have your back or make sure you’re okay or not to fucking get you killed out there where I can’t fucking reach you.”

The air thickened as she looked up at him. She could almost count the growing number of silver hairs in his beard and trace the deepening wrinkles in his skin. Maybe once upon a time they had been laugh lines but life had worn him down, his lips more prone to frowning. And his eyes were burrowing into her, almost like he was tracing out the features of her own face in return.

It was the closest she had been to him in weeks. She forgot how big he was, how consuming his presence could be.

“So what?” she whispered shakily. So what if she went out alone, if she survived alone, if she got killed alone. It had no bearing on him.

Both of them were tightly wound with tension, waiting for the other to snap. Words behind clenched teeth and his fingers involuntarily rubbing into her skin, her heart pounding in her ears.

But instead a knock sounded at the door.

It sounded so far away in her mind but she could see the way he flinched at the sound, the tick in his jaw as he continued to stare until another round of knocks reverberated louder. Frustrated, he turned away with a snarl and dropped her arm, hastily unlocking the door and jerking it open with a hissed, “What?”

It was Margie from the first floor. They paid her occasionally to keep an eye on FEDRA, run to them with tips and make sure certain people weren’t snooping around. Eyes tired and wary, she glanced behind Joel then nervously stuttered, “It’s Tess. She needs you in the basement.” No further info. She whispered the words and scuttled away, disappearing into the dim hallway and down the stairs.

Joel huffed, shoulders slumped and fist clenched on the knob of the open door. The silence was oppressive, hot with anger and things left unsaid. Without turning around though, he grunted a rough, “We’re not done.”

Then he was out the door. Gone without further comment, racing to Tess the second she called him. 

She tried not to let that bitterness spread, but it coated her mouth and beat along her skin as she stood in their apartment, traces of both of them everywhere she looked. He was at Tess’ beck and call and had left without even a look back.

Never had she felt more alone and unwanted.

She was gone by the time they came back.

Some days she regretted not going with Tommy. She missed the days of all of them in the living room, going over maps and Tess’ careful inventory, joking and passing a bottle of homebrewed whiskey around. Those days it was easier to not want to be wanted, to ignore the tingles when Joel would look at her and accept it wasn’t in the cards. She hated that ache of wanting him to want her in the same way he had Tess.

Want left you weak. 

She couldn’t even hate the woman. Tess was Tess. Smart, capable, ruthless, both of them birds of a feather with years of history between them. They clicked, simple as that. Tess was cold, calculated fire and she was a shadow, unobtrusive and hidden away.

A ghost, Tommy liked to call her sometimes jokingly, a nickname that had stuck. Their little ghost.

Ghosts don’t get hurt, just existed on the edges of your peripheral. Held to the earth by want and longing. It fit. A ghost of a person with no ties, unnoticed and living in darkness. Invisible.

She kept to the roofs most nights, skittering from one to the next and listening to the sounds below. Navigating fire escapes, broken balconies, above but not a part of the workings of the city. Voices whispered secrets, yells behind walls, the rhythmic pattering of feet on patrol. She traded secrets for check-ins with the radio tower controller, info on Tommy and if he was safe. Traded hints of new FEDRA patrols to Fireflies and passed along info to barter for ammo or alcohol or stupid things like chocolate. 

She didn’t see Joel or Tess for a while. They still went on runs, now without her entirely. Figured Tess’ list of cons now outweighed the pros. She knew because she followed them from up high, watching the quiet motion of Joel’s shoulders and the tension there. Sometimes he looked up and around as if scanning for her, but she folded that away as yearning and not fact. The reality was they had moved on without her like they had only been entertaining her presence because of Tommy.

It had been a silly crush, nothing more. A moment in time that was over.

The world shifted and she tried to go back to how it was before, but it wasn’t as easy as she had hoped. Like trying to fit back into a puzzle piece sized hole when she was no longer the right shape. And people around her were noticing the lack of a Miller sized shadow behind her. 

Exchanges were tenser, more often than not taking more work or worse, a knife. More than once she had been jumped as if she was weaker on the ground than the rooftops. They were wrong but fighting multiple people wasn’t her strong suit. She was made to be fast, hard to catch. Strength wasn’t her job, it had been Joel’s, but she managed. Didn’t have a choice but to manage, nursing bruised fists and sore ribs alone in her apartment.

So she went back to runs. Sometimes with Carter’s group, sometimes with Lin across town, sometimes solo. 

Every now and then she wondered if she should bother going back. If life outside the QZ would be easier for a ghost. But it would only be a thought before she’d go back to the walls and harsh reality of life post-Outbreak. A pity party. Her life was information and the infected didn’t have any use for that.

Then one day Carter fucked up and pissed off the wrong patrolmen. 

Instead of looking away, they had been waiting at the wall. Most of them got caught on re-entry, Jared shot immediately and Carter hit so hard with the butt of a gun his teeth scattered across the ground. She had managed to slip away with two of the others, all of them taking off, but FEDRA was searching and it was taking everything to lose them.

Rain had started to pour, covering the pants of her breath but making scrabbling onto perches dangerous when tired. She was backtracking around the alley, trying to lose her tail when a hand wrapped around her mouth and dragged her into the shadows. 

Nails digging in, she bucked and thrashed to try to break free even as she was easily picked up and pulled down a set of stairs and a door she hadn’t noticed. Once they were inside, the arm let her go and she spun with her blade out, angry and wet and calculating getting out of the new  situation she had found herself in.

But even in the darkness of the room, she could tell it was Joel. 

Joel angrily standing there in soaked flannel and dark curls plastered to his forehead and breathing hard in the damp basement they were in. His eyes were daggers as he moved, barricading the door with a dresser and turning on a small lamp on a slapped together end table.

It’d been weeks but the sight of him sent her heart into her throat, despite her anger and the adrenaline coursing through her from running.

“Sit down and take off your coat before you freeze to death. You’re soaked,” he ordered, pulling off his backpack and taking his own flannel off, leaving him in a worn gray shirt underneath.

“What is this, Joel?” She stayed standing, muscles locked and brow furrowed, knife gripped in her hand.

He turned to her with a glare, the dim light casting his face in harsh shadows, “It’s me saving your ass because you don’t listen to a goddamn thing I say. I told you not to work with him-”

“-if this is a lecture, I don’t need it,” she growled.

Joel stomped forward and before she could react, yanked the knife away and tossed it before pulling her backpack off roughly followed by her coat, “You almost got fucking killed back there, darling, so you don’t have any room to backtalk right now. Is that what you want? To get caught then hung up in the fucking square.” He jerked the fabric away with the last words, balling up the jacket and throwing it down angrily. 

“Who fucking cares?” she shoved at him, hands pressed to his chest, needing room to breathe. His presence was suffocating, pressing in all around her and she needed air. Because it hurt to have him this close after weeks away and all the distance. “If I get caught it has nothing to do with you!”

He refused to back up, to concede ground, only gripping her wrists and yanking her closer despite how she tried to pull away, “That what you think? That no one gives a shit what happens to you?”

The word yes was on her tongue but wouldn’t leave her mouth as she fought against him. Because speaking it out loud was too much, a confirmation that yeah, she was alone. And it hurt. 

But the smallest part of her, that hope she’d tried to snuff out, whispered from the darkness, “Then why was Joel in front of her and so angry?”

One of his hands brushed her cheek, so tender despite the anger radiating from him, before twisting through the damp strands of her hair. Joel pressed his lips together and shook his head, eyes almost black in the darkness, “What do I have to do to knock some sense into you? I dunno how someone can be so brilliant and so fucking dumb at the same time.”

She scoffed, flinching in indignation, but couldn’t get the biting words out before his lips were on hers devouring the sound. 

A whimper left her unbidden, heart exploding, feeling the rough feel of his beard against her skin and the way his chapped lips sought hers out desperately. The hand in her hair was tugging her towards him, cradling her head, and she could only try to keep herself above the tide of him as he drowned her. 

Joel was kissing her. 

Had kissed her first, clawing at her and pulling her body tight against his. Her fingers flexed, gripping the fabric of his shirt as her mind struggled to catch up. But her body was moving before she could process what was happening, kissing him back like she was starving. His tongue licked at her lips and she gave in, letting him devour her whole. 

They were moving, his feet maneuvering and guiding them until they sunk onto the dilapidated couch against the wall. He was above her and all around, small noises groaning into her mouth and fingers gripping her like she was his lifeline. It was feeling him pressed against her, hard even through jeans and his body between her thighs, that made her brain finally catch up. 

She stopped, pulling away and breathing hard, looking at him like he had turned the whole world on its axis, “Wait.”

Joel stopped immediately, pulling back and checking on her, fingers pushing strands of her hair back behind her ear. His brow was furrowed but he seemed more worried about why she had stopped and the panic coating that one word, “You okay? What is it?”

All she could do was shake her head, breath starting to become almost frantic because what was this? An hour ago she had written Joel off, ready to let him go, then  a few minutes ago he was dragging her and angry beyond belief, and now he was on top of her kissing her like she had dreamed. It was too fast, too much.

“I don't- you- what about Tess?” The words were clumsy, breathless, tumbling out incoherently.

He frowned and sat back, hand resting on her neck to stay touching her, “What? What about Tess?” She wanted to scream because what do you mean? Tess, who had been by his side every day. Who shared an apartment, a bed, with him. Who made it clear through actions that she held his leash and could direct him where she wanted. 

Tess who she knew he fucked sometimes and had been with him for years.

“I- I can’t,” she was starting to back away, sitting up fully and looking around everywhere but him. Because it felt like getting everything she wanted but at the realization of how little she mattered in comparison. This was a moment of release to him, nothing more. She was stepping on someone else’s territory because Joel wasn’t hers, he wasn’t hers, he wasn’t hers. 

Joel’s other hand came up though and held her cheek, keeping her from running, shushing her softly and trying to get her to look back at him, “Hey, hey, what’s going on? You’re fine, settle down.”

She was babbling, composure gone and everything she kept bottled up pouring over. It felt like being teased, a mouse on a string dangling in front of her and going to be ripped away at any second, “You…we can’t- You’re with Tess and I can’t-”

“Sh, sh, slow down,” he rubbed her arms up and down, working to get the chill out of the still damp skin, “I need you to breathe, baby.” He furrowed his brow and adjusted onto the couch, tugging her closer easily. He watched, taking in the way her eyes darted around the room and how even though she was half heartedly pulling away, her fingers clung to his shirt. 

The patchwork of her words filled the silence and he shook his head, trying to piece it all together, “You think me and Tess are together? That what this is about?”

Sanity was slowly coming back and a scoff left her lips, bouncing in the space between them, “I’m not an idiot, Joel. You two- I’ve heard…the walls of the apartment are thin.”

At that he did wince, chewing on his lip and looking away.

Her throat felt tight, heart hammering, but she shrugged as if she hadn’t dreamed of having his hands on her and this wasn’t killing her, “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but I’m not getting between it. I’m not just a quick fuck. I can’t do that.”

He turned back to her then, eyes hard, “Stop. Just…stop. I need you to sit there and listen.” Joel leaned an elbow onto the back of the couch and leaned in, fingers grasping her chin hard, “First things first, you are not a quick fuck. That ain’t what this is. It ain’t what I want.”

She tried to control the look on her face, shove everything behind walls and disappear, but he refused to let her, “Second, yeah, me and Tess have had sex. But that’s it.” It wasn’t new information but hearing him say it so bluntly twisted her stomach and made her want to back away, crawl into the shadows, get away from the way his eyes bore into her and watched every little reaction.

“Tess and I have been around each other for a long time. She knows me and I know her, but I don’t feel that way about her,” Joel tightened his grip on her chin, words brusque and laid out like fact, “We had needs, we took care of it. Either way, that’s in the past.”

Frowning, she looked at him in confusion, “What does that mean?”

“If you had stopped avoiding me,” he commented pointedly with a raised brow, “You would know Tess moved out a while back. We’d stopped having sex and she was seeing someone so she moved out to her own space.”

The words were a tanged mess in her brain. Tess had moved out, it had only been sex, she was seeing someone, “if you had stopped avoiding me.”

“I-” she swallowed, mouth dry, “I wasn’t avoiding you-”

“Darling,” he chuckled half from frustration, “You watch everything and everyone but sometimes you’re clueless. Cause you think that no one notices you. But I see you, no matter how much you try to disappear and act like no one can, just like a fucking ghost. I’ve always seen you though and I saw the moment you started pulling away.

“For a while I thought that maybe it was cause of Tommy. Maybe there was something going on there, but even before he left he was pushy about you and me. Would tease me about how I watched you. I tried to be there for you, deny whatever this is, but you hadn’t ever looked at Tommy the way you looked at me.”

I see you. And he had. He had always noticed the little things so she wasn’t sure why she was surprised he noticed the big ones. Like the fact he was right, she hadn’t ever looked at Tommy in the same way. 

“I thought letting you go was the right move when you started to distance yourself, but hearing you do runs again, being reckless,” Joel grit his teeth and shut his eyes tight, “Drove me fucking insane. Would have killed Carter myself if you got hurt. Almost ripped into those FEDRA fucks when I saw yall get caught.”

“I can take care of myself,” she whispered, the smallest of protests as her fingers tightened on his shirt. A small act of defiance if only to keep her feet on the ground as he shook everything apart. 

He chuckled and his hand left her chin to dive back into her hair, pulling her forward a bit, “I know you can. But you don’t have to. I’ll feel a whole lot better if I can be there to keep you safe myself cause you drive me up the goddamn wall.”

She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry or try to wake up because Joel Miller was sitting in front of her and seeing her, choosing her. 

So she kissed him, gripping him tightly and practically crawling into his lap to get as close as possible. His hands were equally tight in her hair, the delicious tug of the strands making her groan into his mouth as he yanked her close. They were fervent, pouring every tense moment into each other like the flood gates had been opened between them.

Joel wasn’t gentle and that was fine with her. Too many late nights had been spent imagining how he would feel, the way he liked to fuck and kiss and touch. Joel was not a soft person and she wanted to feel that directed at her. She didn’t want soft. So she took every bit he gave, letting him take over and his tongue explore every bit of her mouth, teeth biting on her lips and his hands bringing her down to grind onto him. 

She could feel how big he was, slightly damp jeans doing nothing to disguise the hard press of him against her covered center. He held her like his touch was the only thing keeping her from disappearing back in the shadows, one hand constantly moving and squeezing, guiding her backwards until her back hit the cushions of the couch. 

“You tell me to stop, I stop,” he whispered into her lips, hand finding its way under her shirt and exploring the soft expanse of her stomach. She wanted to tell him that stopping would destroy her, would break her into a thousand tiny bits, but she only raked her nails down his back and pulled him closer.

Her hands trembled at being able to explore him to her heart’s content. The warmth of his back and the way his muscles flexed under her fingertips, the trail of hair along his soft belly leading to his waistband, the strength of his biceps as he held himself above her. His calloused fingers found her breasts, flexing and squeezing and rolling her nipples causing her to almost whimper in return. Every touch was electricity and fire, endless and overwhelming. 

She tugged at the bottom of his shirt and he practically ripped it off so he could resume kissing her, lips moving to bite and suck at the underside of her jaw. Her skin had been cold from the rain and he was like a heated blanket on top of her, warmth sinking in and leaving her panting. 

They were frantic and clumsy, all teeth and moans as they struggled to unbutton jeans and discard shirts. She was usually so quiet but when his mouth wrapped around her nipple hard he had to cover her own with his hand as she cried out loudly, lifting her chest to press it closer to him. He kissed and sucked one then the other while his free hand slipped under the waistband of her underwear, finding her completely soaked for him. “Fuck,” he whispered into her skin, forehead pressed to her sternum as his hand explored her slick folds and the way her hips chased his touch, “Fucking so wet for me already.”

“Joel,” she gasped as his thumb rubbed at her clit, the tip of a finger dipping into her slowly. It was almost embarrassing how good it felt, how easily she could topple over the edge already simply from the fact it was him touching her. He let out soft pants, curls ticking her chest as he looked down and concentrated on exploring her. They had kept their jeans mostly on, a reminder that this wasn’t their apartments and it wasn’t safe to be completely naked, the only thing keeping him from stripping her bare. 

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he moaned, slowly pumping a single finger in and out of her, stretching her out, “Fuck, I can’t wait to take you back and have you fall apart on my tongue. Wanna taste you so bad.”

Her hips jerked at the thought, feeling him sink in deeper while his thumb kept up slow circles on her clit. “Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you,” Joel chuckled into her skin, teasingly biting at the underside of her breasts, “Gonna have that pretty little cunt cumming all over my mouth so hard you’ll listen to what I say for once.”

Her orgasm was a quickly rising wave, the sound of his voice whispering filth leaving her trembling as he added a second finger inside of her. They moved in and out, curling and stretching and hitting a spot her own fingers could never reach. She felt simultaneously full and like it wasn’t enough. 

“Fuck fuck,” she gasped, squirming and holding onto his bare back as her legs trembled.

“That’s it, baby, give it to me,” Joel growled, speeding up and dragging her over the edge as her orgasm hit her so hard it left her breathless.

Stars were exploding behind her eyelids and sensation was overwhelming. The feel of his beard dragging deliciously as he kissed a trail up her neck, the callouses of his hands a contrast to the soft skin of her cunt, the way his belt dug into her thighs. 

He was everywhere and yet it wasn’t enough. She wanted him inside of her, hot and filling. The feel of his naked torso against her own was intoxicating and even though he had said it wasn’t a quick fuck, one and done, she couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have him fully naked over her. 

“I need you,” she mumbled against his lips and tugged at his hair, pushing him to sit back. He easily sat up, pulling her with him like she weighed nothing to settle with her knees on either side of him. Both were panting, breathing heavily between kisses, as she scrambled to shove her pants down and he did the same. It wasn’t graceful, the wet denim fighting and Joel getting distracted by the slick painting her inner thighs. 

He let out a hiss and his head fell back against the couch as his cock was pulled free between them, thick and hard and weeping at the tip. Joel jerked when her thumb trailed through the bead of precum and slid along the underside to touch the pulsing vein there.

“Fuck,” he growled and ripped her hand away, pulling her close to hover above, “Later, baby. Right now I need to feel your pussy on it or it’s gonna be over too damn quick.”

She didn’t think she was one for dirty talk but his southern drawl and the gravel in his voice hit her low and hard. She wrapped her hand around him and slid his cock through the arousal pouring from her before slowly easing down onto him. He was fucking big, so big, and it burned to be stretched out after being alone for so long. 

Joel let her take control, let her impale herself and go at her own pace, whispering, “Good girl, good fucking girl,” over and over again. His arm fully stretched along her back, bracing her and able to grip the back of her neck tightly. She had never whimpered or begged in her life, but feeling him holding onto her, groaning with muscles taut with restraint as he let her have control, made her want to beg him to fuck her so hard the memory of him would be imprinted on her skin.

The angle was breathtaking as she fully sank down, the patch of curls at his base rubbing against her clit and his cock so deep she wanted to cry at how perfect he was. They both moaned, looking down where they were joined and her stretched around him, as he murmured praise at how good she felt. 

She moved slowly at first, rocking a little, hips instinctively canting to rub against him. His grip on the back of her neck was a steady presence, his other hand moving up and down her neck, pressing against the sides of her throat and making her slightly light headed. It was intoxicating, feeling him after wanting him for so long, the dig of his fingertips on her windpipe controlling her breath.

“That’s it, darling, you take what you need,” he grit his teeth, jaw clenched, rolling into the rhythm she was leading. Her nipples moved against the bare skin of his chest, sending twinges of pleasure coursing through her. Her moans were breathy, brow furrowed and she was drowning in how good it all was. It was like being consumed, those eyes in the darkness burning deep down into her. If this was all she got from him, she would die happily. 

“Joel,” she cried, nails digging into his broad shoulders and biceps. 

Everything she wanted was in the way his name broke from his lips and with it, his control. He kissed her hard enough she could almost taste blood from cracked lips and he pistoned up into her with a growl. It wasn’t slow or soft, almost brutal in the way he drove his cock up, punching the air from her lungs and splitting her open. 

He kept her lips against his, tongue tasting the inside of her mouth and swallowing the screams that threatened to rip from her as he thrusted over and over again frantically chasing both of their orgasms. It was pain and pleasure and the sun exploding underneath her skin as he coaxed her release like it was the last thing on earth. It was all she had hoped for, dreamed of late at night, imagining how it would feel to be at his mercy.

Every nerve was set aflame and she clung to him desperately as she went over the edge, arousal coating their thighs as her orgasm barreled through her. 

He whispered her through it, fucking into her as pleasure crested through her, and then cursed. His voice was a low rumble that hit deep in her before he easily lifted her off him, cock slapping against his stomach before he wrapped his own giant hand around himself and furiously worked himself to release.

She was slumped against him, dazed and watching as he gripped himself tightly, feeling the deep moan as he cummed over his fist and onto her stomach. Everything felt like it was floating, the warmth of his skin and release all over her and she couldn’t tell if it was sweat or the rain that clung to both of their hair and was dripping down their backs. They were sticky and hot and out of breath, but she had never felt better.

“Holy shit,” he groaned, blowing out a breath and pressing a kiss to her hair while wrapping his arms around her. She couldn’t properly form words yet, boneless and only able to nuzzle her nose into his neck. 

She let herself drift in the silence, feeling him run fingers up and down her spine and the way both their breaths started to even out.

He kissed her temple again, whispering almost hesitantly in the calm, “You do runs with me. No more other groups, just me. And no more avoiding me or I’m going to drag all your shit to my place and lock you inside.”

A chuckle left her, putting him slightly at ease as if his command would throw the balance of them into disorder, “Bossy. You wouldn’t.”

Joel only smiled and tightened his hold on her, “Sweetheart, you have no idea what I would do for you. Don’t tempt me. Wouldn’t mind keeping ya all to myself.”

It was said jokingly but her heart sped up, hearing words she had hoped but never thought she would actually hear, “That so?” She pulled away to look at him, eyes connecting even in the dim lamp lighting up the darkness of the room they were stashed away in.

He didn’t say anything at first, cupping her face and thumb tracing over her bottom lip. His eyes swept over every bit of her face like he also couldn’t believe she was there with him. Slowly, he kissed her, breathing in her sigh and whispering almost with reverence back at her, “I see you. You’re not going to be able to get rid of me, baby.”

And that didn’t sound so bad to her.  

[knight-a3]

Rosie, the Cannibal Overlord

Heavenbound AU

Hazbin Masterpost

More notes under the cut

--Background--

Life: There's not a lot of canon to go off of here, yet. So I'll keep my theorizing to a minimum. First, I think she's a sinner, not hellborn. She died in the 1910s, probably somewhere in the range of 40-60 years old. I'm keeping my options open.

There's two ways this could go: Either she was a cannibal because she was a freak, or she was in a bad situation and resorted to cannibalism but died anyway. And hell cursed her with cannibalistic cravings that she just embraced. I don't care which.

Afterlife: Rosie is not a particularly powerful overlord by herself, but she still dangerous. She's tuned into the rumor mill and hears about almost everything that's going on, looking for opportunities to make deals. She carries a friendly demeanor, but is not to be trusted. She will help people with their problems, for a price(like Ursula from the Little Mermaid). If they can't pay right now, she'll accept temporary ownership of a soul until their debts are paid. But the debt might just take an eternity to pay off while she dangles freedom just out of reach.

Her most loyal souls are the cannibals. She's the leader of Cannibal Town, and the cannibals willingly sold their souls to her and she treats them with more respect than most of her other souls. If you mess with any of the cannibals, you incur the wrath of them all.

While she is not strictly powerful, it is a bad idea to underestimate her. Between her deceptively unassuming demeanor, her knack for collecting gossip, her loyal cannibals, and her powerful alliances(Alastor in particular), she can be a very dangerous enemy.

--Design Notes--

Dress: Her canon outfit was definitely giving Edwardian vibes. So it made sense when I heard that she was inspired by "Hello Dolly". The Edwardian period spans approximately from the 1890s-1910s, right between Victorian and Roaring 20s. Based on her S-curve silhouette, Rosie's fashion seems most in line with the mid-Edwardian trends. Early in the era, volume carried over from the Victorians, but slimmed down by the end, then led into the 20s.

But I was having trouble understanding the construction of her outfit, so I just wanted to make sense of it. There's nothing egregiously wrong with her canon outfit, I basically just wanted to tweak it a little to suit my preferences a little better.

Hat: Hats got very elaborate. Apparently it was popular to have a stuffed bird as decoration. Which I think Rosie would like, but I don't want to draw that. While the skull in canon also suits her, I really wanted to incorporate roses, because of her name. But skulls and roses both would be too much. I played with the idea of using other flowers, like poppies(which represent death and remembrance, and are used as a symbol to honor the fallen of WWI and veterans. I thought it could be fitting because WWI was at the tail end of this time period). But I ended up not really liking it as much.

Black roses symbolize death, which is obvious enough. The greyish ones were mostly just to contrast the black.

Hair: Seems the Edwardians were obsessed with the pompadour. Rosie most likely does not have short hair, but long hair in an updo.

Full Demon: I wanted Rosie to have a full demon form. We don't have a canon one, so I took the liberty of doing it myself, and creatively called it "Spooky Rosie". I wanted it to be skeletal in appearance, and have long nails. I ended up taking inspiration from the Beldam/Other Mother from Coraline. As well as wendigos.

Wendigo: A wendigo is a spirit from Algonquian-speaking Native American/First Nation Tribes. It possesses and/or transforms people, giving them an insatiable craving for human flesh. The myths are particularly common in northern areas, where there can be intense winters. They are often used as a cautionary tale warning about greed, selfishness, and descent into savagery.

The original myths didn't really include an antlered creature. I think that might be a more modern pop-culture addition. They are supposed to look more like freaky emaciated people. The game Until Dawn has a pretty good depiction.

Which, coincidentally, resembles the cannibals in hazbin(more so than Alastor. So I don't think he's a wendigo). I doubt that was intentional, but I just think the coincidence is interesting. I can take inspiration from the appearance, but I won't be explicitly calling anyone a wendigo. I just figured it was worth addressing here.

Should wendigo be censored? Some of the myths state that saying its name attracts it and incurs its wrath. But this superstition is present but ignored with other mythological creatures such as fae folk or even Bloody Mary, and I find it odd to treat Native American folklore differently. I don't think people who do not believe in it should have to abide by the superstition, particularly if the consequence would only bring wrath upon the person who incurred it. If I type out the name online, then I don't see why others should be offended that I put myself in danger. I haven't seen any substantial sources to suggest it's inherently offensive. I only hear that from people on the internet who have no cultural connection to the belief and heard from other people on the internet.

I also don't see the value of a cautionary tale that can't be spoken about.

I live in an area where Skinwalkers are the historically relevant superstition, and it's really not that big a deal to anyone. Pop culture exaggerates the significance of these things.

April 25, 2025- added a bit about the cultural stigma of saying the word wendigo June 16, 2025- slight adjustment to the color palette

[beansprean]

My Familiar’s Ghost part 81

Masterpost Masterpost 2

See the latest pages on Patreon!

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1. Wide shot, knees up, of vampire Guillermo and Nandor sitting on the couch in the library in front of the papered-over bay window. Nandor is wearing one of his usual outfits and Guillermo is wearing something new: a dark blue shirt with a pink floral pattern, a dark red sweater vest, brown cuords, and a string of pearls. Both are looking at the viewer and have clipboards in their hands, Guillermo's pen poised and ready on the paper and Nandor gesturing his in the air as he asks, 'So...what makes you the best candidate for our new familiar?'

2. Reverse shot of a single green armchair on a vague brown background. Sitting on it, legs crossed, is a southeast Asian woman in her 30s with shoulder length black hair and countless slash-like scars running up her arms, neck, and face. She is wearing a purple sweater with 3/4 sleeves, black leggings, and combat boots. She grimaces, looking upward, left arm waving vaguely as her right nervously fingers the arm of the chair, and says, 'Well, I survived three years with Gorgo the Murderer...'

3. Repeat, new candidate in the chair: a fat white man in his 30s with close cropped sandy blond hair and unsettling blue eyes, wearing a blue polo and brown chinos. His arms are covered in gorey tattoos depicting blood, buzzsaws, skulls, and fangs, plus one art nouveau portrait and black fang shapes above and below his mouth. He stares directly forward with a fixed grin, hands laced together over his chest, and declares, 'My former mistress always said I had a knack for dismemberment.'

4. Repeat, new candidate in the chair: a fat brown hispanic person in their 20s with hazel eyes, big glasses, and half bleach blonde half dark brown hair in a bowl cut. She is wearing a red flannel open over a TrueBlood tee shirt and jeans, nails painted teal, a silver hoop in each ear. They are leaning forward eagerly, fists clenched and eyes wide, babbling, 'You're the only familiar I've ever heard of who got turned! What's the turnaround for your familiars? Which one of you will turn me?!'

5. Repeat, new candidate in the chair: a small white woman in her 60s with gray-streaked auburn hair wearing a low-cut dark pink top tucked into a plaid knee-length skirt. Her long nails are painted a dark reddish brown to match her lipstick, and she also has on pantyhose and, inexplicably, a diamond ring on her left ring finger. She leans casually against the side of the chair, brown eyes roaming the ceiling, and announces, 'I've had so many masters by now... I'm really just looking for something more long-term...'

6a. Reverse shot back to Guillermo and Nandor on the couch. Nandor leans forward with a suggestive smirk, touching the butt of his pen coyly to his chin, and replies, 'That is good to hear... I trust your age will not prevent you from your duties?' Guillermo glares at him from the corner of his eye, grip shaking on his pen. 6b. Knees up in profile of Nandor and the milf candidate sitting across from each other, leaning forward with suggestive grins. One of her legs stretches forward to rub against his and she touches her chest demurely, replying, 'Honey, I can handle whatever you have for me-' Guillermo leans around Nandor to get between them and interrupts her, loudly shouting 'Next!!' 6c. Zoom in to shoulders up of Nandor, turned toward the viewer to curl his fingers in a wave as the milf leaves offscreen, muttering, 'Uh, well, thank you for your time.' Nandor glances over his shoulder with the smuggest of grins at Guillermo, who is absolutely seething behind him. Guillermo is surrounded by a ragged black aura, frowning as deeply as his boyish face allows, glowing orange eyes burning holes into the back of Nandor's head. /end ID

[nellasbookplanet]

Book recs: angels

Want some cool fictional angels? Good news! Whether you prefer traditional winged angels, scary eldritch angels, possibly-human-angels, incredibly creative in-name-only-angels, angels separated from or exploring concepts of faith and religion, romance, horror, fantasy, or sci-fi; this list is sure to offer something to chew on!

For more details on the books, continue under the readmore. Titles marked with * are my personal favorites. And as always, feel free to share your own recs in the notes!

If you want more book recs, check out my masterpost of rec lists!

Historical fantasy angels

When the Angels Left the Old Country by Sacha Lamb*

The angel Uriel and the demon Little Ash have been friends for centuries, living and studying together in a small jewish community in Europe. But times are changing, and many of the community have left for a new life across the sea. When one of these emigrants go missing, Uriel and Little Ash decide to leave their peaceful life and go find and, if needed, save her.

A Master of Djinn by P. Djèli Clark

Set in an alternate 1910’s steampunk Cairo, where djinn and other creatures (among other things, creepy steampunk angels) live alongside humans. We get to follow an investigator as she races to catch a criminal using a powerful object to control djinn and stir unrest. Fantastically creative and fresh, and also features a buddy cop dynamic between two female leads as well as a sapphic romance.

The Angel of the Crows by Katherine Addison*

Sherlock Holmes retelling. After having been injured fighting a war against fallen angels, Doyle returns to London to survive on only a veteran's pension. To afford a place to live in the city, Doyle finds a housemate in Crow, and eccentric angel with a great curiosity for humans and a knack for solving crime. And London needs its protector - supernatural beings walk the streets, and a someone going by the name Jack the Ripper terrifies the citizens at night.

Modern day fantasy angels

Bitter by Akwaeke Emezi

Novella, young adult. Bitter is an art student in Lucille, a city on the brink. Injustice plagues the citizens and protests shake the streets, and Bitter doesn't know where her place his - whether to fight or stay safe. When her art calls upon a creature of bloody justice, she must ask herself just how far she’s prepared to go and what price she’s ready to pay for justice.

Daughter of Smoke and Bone by Laini Taylor

Young adult portal fantasy. Young Karou is a student in Prague, but she’s also a mystery. She fills sketchbooks with drawings of monsters, trades in wishes, speaks languages that aren't all human, and has hair that grows out blue. When strange signs start appearing around the world - handprints scorched into doorways by winged strangers - will Karou finally find out who she really is?

Angelfall by Susan Ee*

Young adult post apocalypse. Six months ago, the angels descended on the Earth - and brought the apocalypse with them. Between ruling street gangs and vicious angels, Penryn is just trying to keep her family alive. When angels fly away with her little sister, Penryn does the unthinkable: strikes a deal with an injured and outcast angel to rescue her.

A Madness of Angels by Kate Griffin*

Urban fantasy. Two years ago, sorcerer Matthew Swift was killed. Today, he woke back up. And he isn't alone in his body, but rather in the company of the blue electric angels, who lived in the telephone lines and are now experiencing the world for the first time through him. Now, he seeks vengeance not only against the one who killed him, but also against the one who brought him back.

The Fall that Saved Us by Tamara Jerée*

Cassiel is of angelic heritage, raised to fight and kill demons alongside her family. But Cassiel has left the hunt and her family behind, wanting a normal life. For three years she's built a life for herself, cut off from her family, but now a demon has found her, sent to collect her soul. Except, the demon isn't any more interested in following the orders of her family than Cassiel is. Can they work together to free themselves from the expectations placed on them? Sapphic romance.

Out of the Blue by Sophie Cameron*

Young adult, sapphic main character. When angels started falling from the sky, the world went mad. So far not a single angel has survived the fall, but that doesn't stop teenage Jaya's father from growing an obsession with catching one, going as far as uprooting the entire family to Edinburgh in hopes of finding one. Jaya, busy mourning the recent loss of her mother, finds his obsession pointless - until an angel crashes right at her feet. What’s more, it's alive...

Full on fantasy angels

Tread of Angels by Rebecca Roanhorse

Novella. During Heaven's War, the rebel Abaddon died and fell. Now, long after, what remains of his body is a valuable element called divinity, which is mined by Fallen, descendants of those who fell and the only ones capable of perceiving divinity. Celeste, a Fallen raised among the privileged Elect, is deeply protective of her little sister Mariel. When Mariel is accused of having murdered an Elect, it’s up to Celeste to find out what really happened and save her sister.

The Golden Compass by Philip Pullman

Middle grade. In Lyra's world, every person has a daemon: an animal companion who follows them throughout life. When children begins being stolen off the street, among them Lyra's friend, she must embark on a great journey to save him, taking her to the furthest north - and beyond. A note: the angels do not appear until the second book, however this trilogy is very much worth a read from the start.

Gunmetal Gods by Zamil Akhtar

Dark fantasy inspired by the crusades. Seeking revenge, Micah the Metal leads an army of men baptized i angel's blood against the kingdom that stole his daughter. It’s up to Kevah, legendary fighter, to stop him and save his people. But ever since losing his wife a decade ago, Kevah has lost his fighting spirit. To defeat Micah, he must find it within himself a will to live again. While featuring (scary eldritch) angels, they serve more as a driving background/world-building force than as actual characters.

Horror angels

The Unnoticeables by Robert Brockway

Angels watch over humans, but not to protect us but to solve us, seeking to make the universe more efficient and clean away the undesirable. Carey, a 70s punk, doesn't like the idea of being solved. Watching fellow punks disappear off the streets, he becomes embroiled in a dangerous conspiracy. Decades later, stunt woman Kaitlyn has her own encounter with the angels and their creations - as well an older punk who might have the answers she needs.

Hell Followed With Us by Andrew Joseph White

Young adult post apocalypse. The world has ended, and sixteen-year-old trans boy Benji is on the run from the cult that caused armageddon. Infected with the bioweapon they released to bring about the end, Benji is slowly transforming into something not quite human and desperate to find someplace safe. When coming across a group of surviving teens, Benji finds something new to fight for. No traditional angels, but it does play with the concept.

Angel Radio by A.M. Blaushild

Young adult post apocalypse. A week after strange and terrifying angels appeared, humanity is dead. Sole survivor of her town, teenage Erika is left wandering on her own. That is, until she catches an odd broadcast on the radio which lures her into the newly emptied world. There she encounters dangerous creatures, but also fellow survivor Midori, who has a cryptic connection to the angels.

Sci-fi angels

Archangel Protocol (LINK Angel series) by Lyda Morehouse

Cyberpunk. In a future where religion has become the law of the land and people spend as much time in cyberspace as in reality, ex-cop Deirdre has lost everything after having been accused of a crime she didn't commit. When approached by a man calling himself Michael and asked to solve the mystery behind the so called link angels - supposed angels who show themselves in cyberspace - Deirdre is given a chance at redemption and answers.

Archangel by Sharon Shinn

For twenty years, archangel Raphael has ruled over the lands, leading to corruption among both angels and mortals. Now the time has come for the angel Gabriel to become archangel, but first he must find his Angelica, a mortal woman chosen by Jehovah to be by his side. But his chosen partner, Rachel, has lived under oppression and fear, and she has her own ideas of what she wants - ideas that don't include Gabriel.

Terminal World by Alastair Reynolds

On a dying earth, society is separated by zones in which the laws of reality shift, allowing for different levels of technology and life. At the top of Spearpoint, the only surviving city, lies the Celestial zone, in which only angels can survive. Quillon, former angel who's had his wings removed and body changed so he can survive and infiltrate the lower zones, has been in hiding for years when he receives a warning that his former people are hunting him. Forced on the run, Quillon must leave Spearpoint for the dangerous wastes beyond, where he will discover ancient secrets of his world.

Space angels

Dust by Elizabeth Bear

In a dying spaceship, orbiting an equally dying sun, noblewoman Perceval waits for her own gruesome death. Having been captured by an opposing house, her wings severed and life forfeit, Perceval’s execution is imminent - until a young servant charged with her care proves to be Perceval’s long lost sister. To stop a war between houses likely to doom them all, the two flee together across a crumbling, dangerous spaceship. At its core waits Jacob Dust, god and angel, all that remains of what the ship once was. And he wants Perceval. Sapphic and asexual characters, however be prepared for kinda fucked up relationships.

The Outside by Ada Hoffman*

AKA the book the put me in an existential crisis. Souls are real, and they are used to feed AI gods in this lovecraftian inspired sci-fi where reality is warped and artificial gods stand against real, unfathomable ones. Autistic scientist Yasira is accused of heresy and, to save her eternal soul, is recruited by cybernetic ‘angels’ to help hunt down her own former mentor, who is threatening to tear reality itself apart. Sapphic main character.

The Genesis of Misery by Neon Yang

Space opera inspired by Joan of Arc. Misery Nomaki possesses rare stone-working abilities usually found among only saints and the voidmad. Not believing herself the be former and desperately not wanting to become the latter, Misery is trying to keep a low profile. Her attempt fails when the voice of an angel - or a very convincing delusion - leads her to become the centerpiece of a dangerous battle between two warring factions hoping to use her. Very unique and cool conceptually, but a little all over the place in how it handles its plot.

Bonus AKA I haven’t read these yet but they seem really cool

Dusk in Kalevia by Emily Compton

Toivo Valonen is a secret agent in more ways than one. An angel masquerading as human, he's acted as a source of hope for humanity in wartime throughout history. In 1960, he embarks on an undercover mission to Kalevia, allied with a rebellion against the government. In his way is fellow angel and rival agent Demyan Chernyshev, who’s working for the KGB.

The House of Shattered Wings by Aliette de Bodard

Having just barely survived the Great Houses War, much of Paris lies in ruins. Morningstar, founder of the House Silverspires, has gone missing, and something is stalking the people within the House's walls. Three people, a Fallen, an alchemist, and a man wielding spells from the far east, may be prove to be Silverspire's salvation.

The Worst Perfect Moment by Shivaun Plozza

Young adult. Sixteen-year-old Tegan is dead and i heaven. There, she's supposed to be reliving her happiest memory. Except the moment Tegan has been placed in isn't very happy at all. Guided by an angel, Tegan is brought through her past to understand what most matters to her. If she fails to see the happiness in her assigned memory, the consequences would be dire for both her and the angel.

Honorary mentions AKA these didn't really work for me but maybe you guys will like them: The Library of the Unwritten by A.J. Hackwith, City of Bones by Cassandra Clare, Hush, Hush by Becca Fitzpatrick, Sandman Slim by Richard Kadrey

[scrunklyraven]

DIGITAL PAWS AU

MASTERPOST

The Dark Forest is a truly terrifying place, infamous among cats everywhere.

Bughop, once a loyal and courageous warrior, finds herself ensnared in this nightmarish place, with no hope of escape. Plagued by memories of her past, she struggles to endure the torment.

As Bughop navigates this wretched place, she discovers that not all cats can withstand the suffering. Many cats lose their minds, transforming into savage and twisted versions of themselves—unrecognizable, dangerous, and driven by madness.

Concepts and lore

Kaufmo Cricketbounce concepts

The “map”

Out of bounds

Unused concept art

Meet the characters !!

Meet Pomni Bughop!

Bughop is a cautious and jumpy cat who is trapped in the dark forest along with 5 other cats. Despite her initial skittishness, she demonstrates an innate sense of justice and often challenges the decisions of Foxteeth, the group's leader much to his annoyance.

Bughop is constantly plagued by a sense of restless anxiety. She is often found pacing back and forth, or compulsively scratching at the ground. Her behavior suggests an intense unease and a deep seated desire to escape

Meet Jax Rabbitthump!

Rabbitthump is a self-confident and unabashed cat, notorious for his cruel jokes and knack for picking on others' weaknesses, especially Tawnymouse.

No cat seems to know where he came from or what his past is, and he is quite content keeping it that way, relishing the sense of unease his mysteriousness creates among other cats.

Generally easygoing and carefree, Rabbitthump is never serious, except for those rare occasions when a critical event, like the tragic incident involving Cricketbouce, occured. Such incidents tend to make him uncharacteristically serious and even unnerved. Though, he’d never admit it.

Meet Ragatha Patchface!

Meet Gangle Tawnymouse!

Tawnymouse is a nervous and traumatized cat who used to be a Medicine Cat.

Due to consistent bullying from Rabbitthump, she is continuously on edge and always seeking to avoid confrontation.

Tawnymouse is naturally quiet and soft-spoken, and her behavior might be attributed to the fact she is always ready to flee at any moment.

She has heterochromia, a condition resulting from head trauma she sustained from an insedent with Rabbitthump The trauma has left her emotionally vulnerable and sensitive to any aggressive behavior.

Meet Kinger Frecklenose!

(Disc coming soon)

Meet Zooble (..............)

(Disc coming soon)

Meet Caine Foxteeth!

coming soon-

Official comic

Welcome to hell!!

F&Q

“Can I post fanart”

Yes yes yes!!!!!!!!! I’d LOVE that!!

Please tag me!!!!

“Can I put a self insert oc?”

Of course!!

“Can I write fanfics or other media?”

Yes! Yes! Yes!!

Show meeeee

“Can I ship characters”

Yes, but be responsible.

“Can I post headcanons?”

Of course! I’d love to see people’s interpretations of my work!!

(You shood totally tag me)

“Can I make animations (m.a.ps, amvs, pmvs)

Yessir!!

“Is there any ‘canon’ ships?”

As of now, no, but I’m kinda leaning to funnybunny or one sided showtime (heh) I really dunno as this is a wip and I’m really just getting familiar with the characters and lore

If I do end up putting ships just be aware that you are allowed to ship anything in fanart and I won’t be angy ❤️

With all that said I must add that this is a wip and there is a TON of unfinished storylines and plot holes that I need to fix. And a name for Zooble COUGH. So just bear with me…….♥

[veinsfullofstars]

Meet the Families: Bebebe & Jojojo

Everyone, say hi to Dedede’s mama and papa - a pair of lovebirds as different as day and night! Check below the cut for more deets and fun facts!

(OC info updated as of 05/28/25.)

Started 04/14/25, finished 04/20/25. | Childhood Friends AU Masterpost

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Some fun facts about Bebebe:

-Bee is originally from Planet Earthfall and grew up helping out on her family’s farm... or trying to, anyway, finding her eye tended to wander away from boring farm work and drift towards the distant horizon instead. All it took was a handsome drifter and his tales of life beyond the stars to get her feet moving, sparking a sense of wanderlust that remains with her to this day.

-During her far-flung travels, she discovered the world of spectacle fights and pursued a career in an interstellar wrestling circuit on a whim, finding a knack for it and even earning a good bit of fame for a time thanks to her fiery persona, impressive strength, and skill with her weapon of choice, the great hammer.

-She met Jojojo during the height of her career, spotting him in a group of visiting Star Warriors who’d seen her latest match. She likes to talk about how much she enjoyed the process of slowly cracking open his hardened solider exterior, of seeing just what it took to make him smile or laugh or share a bit of himself, of finding a nurturing side that he’d hidden away for so long (his battle skills were nothing to sneeze at either). She’d been the one to propose not long before her planned retirement from the circuit some years later.

-She loves food just as much as her son, having discovered many delicious exotic dishes during her travels (though she has a soft spot for the southern comfort food of her homeland). She jokes that she would’ve probably been an intergalactic foodie if she hadn’t joined the fighting circuit. She is a regular customer over at the bakery run by Para's dad.

-Bee is a kind and gregarious woman, well-liked by just about everyone in the neighborhood and good at making friends of even the grouchiest souls (if her choice of partner is any indication). Though, despite having a veritable well of patience, it would not be wise to push her buttons too much or talk smack about anyone she cares about. There’s a reason they used to call her Madame Caldera in her wrestling days…

-Bee never really considered herself the motherly type until she and Jo came to Popstar and had her only son. Now she can't imagine not caring for the little tykes that run and play around her new home. She even took on a part-time position as a PE teacher and sports coach for the children of the village, happy to help keep them fit and active even if they can all be a handful sometimes (like, literal handful - she can easily lift most of them with one hand and toss them like basketballs if she wanted).

-Bee has loved her son from the moment he was born and would spoil him rotten if given the chance (one of the very few points of contention between her and her husband, given how much she tends to let the boy get away with). One can only imagine the absolute joy in her heart when Dedede asked her to teach him how to fight like she did back in her wrestling days.

-Even after decades of marriage, Bee still knows how to fluster her prim-and-proper husband.

Some fun facts about Jojojo:

-Jo is originally from Shiver Star, raised in a well-off family with parents who were (no pun intended) rather cold and traditionalist. He claims that the only good parts of his childhood were learning to play the piano and wandering through his family’s greenhouse.

-He left for the GSA at an early age (supposedly at the encouragement of a less-than-loving parent) and would go on to spend much of his adult life training and working for them. There, he rose through the Star Warrior ranks, facing many hardships and triumphs along the way, and even learned how to conduct the very elements around him into his weapon of choice, the longsword. By the time he’d met Bebebe, he’d become quite the decorated knight, practically on track to become a General had he not encountered some… difficulties during one of his last missions, ones that left him with a scar on his foot and a permanent limp, forcing him into an earlier retirement than he’d anticipated. He still keeps in contact with his commanders and war buddies through Paige and Sir Tort (definitely just for correspondence and not for long-distance contract work to fill the void left by his retirement).

-Though Jo has many an exciting and grisly tale from his time overstars, he’s not the best storyteller, his recounts often dry and monotonous even during the most heart-pounding scenes. He’s more of a stickler for facts, statistics, and order as opposed to the subjective and emotional.

-Perhaps stemming from a childhood spent on a planet covered in endless winter, Jo has always had an interest in plants and nature, finding their elemental power to be the easiest for him to conduct and control. He’d put it aside for a while during his GSA days (tending to favor ice more during that time), but rediscovered it after meeting Bee, her friendship and gentle encouragement leading him back to those old, beloved hobbies. These days, he helps out at the local apothecary in the village - run by Para’s mother - and practically fills their home with potted plants, caring for them and even giving his favorite ones names (don't laugh - he takes his plants very seriously).

-Jo is civil and respectful with most of their neighbors - talking mechanics with Bow's mom, or discussing herbalism with Para's mother, or trading tales of time overstars with Sir Tort - but he's not nearly as chummy with everyone as his more sociable wife. He has found a surprising camaraderie with Whispy Woods, though, appreciating the old tree for his wisdom when he comes seeking answers or advice, and for his patience when he needs some space or a place to vent.

-Though often busy helping at the apothecary or away on *ahem* off-the-clock GSA business, Jo occasionally makes time to train some of the older children in the way of the sword should they be interested. He is not exactly a patient teacher, but he is an effective one to the right students (as showcased by Meta and his - in Jo's words - remarkable aptitude for swordplay).

-Jo’s relationship with his son is… a strained one, to put it lightly. Though he does care about the boy and wants to see him succeed, he's not great at showing it, instead defaulting to methods of strictness and distance used in his own upbringing. He has a habit of piling expectations upon the boy, delivering curt critiques and passive-aggressive disappointment whenever he fails to meet them. Dedede usually responds with shouting, backtalk, and childish acts of rebellion that only serve to reinforce Jo’s frustration with him, leaving it up to Bee to mediate things and try to encourage patience between them.

-Even decades into their marriage, Jo is ever the gentleman and treats his wife with the utmost respect.

[bitchy-craft]

Random Things About Your Future Spouse | Pick A Pile

Hello and welcome to this Pick A Pile! In here you'll find out a few random things about your future spouse. I hope you guys enjoy and find this useful. Do make sure to leave comments down below on your experience! I do want to remind you all that this is a General Pick A Pile which means this is for a lot of people: therefore keep what resonates and leave what doesn't.

Masterpost > Questions > Paid Readings [NEW]

Pick A Pile!

Art: fresh_bobatae

Pile 1:

They enjoy creating elaborate scavenger hunts for family gatherings.

They have a talent for turning ordinary moments into spontaneous dance parties.

They collect fun, random, and for a few of you old stuff.

They possess an uncanny ability to remember the lyrics to obscure songs.

They always keep a secret stash of snacks in unconventional places around the house.

They have a passion for stargazing and will try to see shapes in them.

They enjoy writing handwritten notes and leaving them in unexpected places.

Pile 2:

They organize the family photo album in chronological order with meticulous captions.

They have a knack for giving thoughtful, personalized gifts for every occasion.

They can flawlessly impersonate various cartoon characters, delighting children and adults alike.

They maintain an impressive collection of board games and hosts game nights a lot with friends and family.

They adopt 'useless' traditions, like celebrating "reverse birthdays" where they give gifts to others.

They have an adventurous palate and loves experimenting with unique and exotic recipes.

They possess a green thumb and turns the backyard into a thriving garden full of fruits and veggies (mostly veggies).

Pile 3:

They always have a witty and clever response ready for any situation, much to your annoyance.

They enjoy writing and illustrating whimsical bedtime stories for the family.

They organize spontaneous road trips to explore hidden gems and off-the-beaten-path destinations.

They have a talent for creating elaborate, themed holiday decorations for the home.

They initiate random acts of kindness like leaving encouraging notes for neighbors.

They love adopting and fostering pets, turning the home into a joyful animal haven.

They enjoy learning and teaching fun and useless facts that become family trivia.

[canisbrutus]

Hey I really like your headcanons !!! What’s your view on the main three’s relationship with each other?

why thank ya, color me flattered lol. let me see.. this will be Long

Gary & Jimmy 🐍🐕

tragic doomed toxic yaoi etc etc

ultimately they're two sides of the same coin, opposite eachother in a way. both are simultaneously victims and perpetrators, though they differ in motive and response

while jimmy might be too daft to realize, gary knows this and absolutely hates it.

like a fine mix of admiration jealousy and spite

jimmy meanwhile is just fed up his bullshit

but at the same time he doesnt *hate* him.

jimmy doesnt really hate anyone tbh hes just easily pissed off

after the betrayal jimmy is annoyed at best and personally hurt at worst. but he can shrug it off with ease. he doesnt hold grudges

which is yet another thing that drives gary nuts

before the betrayal though. jimmy made gary feel Weird. jimmy's too genuine. too upfront. too honest. Too Real.

he took their friendship seriously. very very few people willingly stood beside gary, minus petey who we'll get to later

and that made him ? scared. confused even. absolutely nobody could be equal with him. even if he liked their relationship

anyway. this vvv

Petey & Gary 🐇🐍

petey primarily hung around gary because he was familiar and it was better than being alone, yes.

but also, these two go back a fair ways. like elementary.

as such, petey knows more about gary than he would like him to.

gary has been through a Lot. he's also Lost a Lot.

petey is one of the few 'things' he has left that really means anything to him.

or. he was, anyway. before the betrayal

shortly after the fight in the pit he got in an argument with gary. cut him deep where it hurts. mentioned something he maybe shouldnt have.

got beaten bloody and thrown away. and gary devolved from there.

despite this petey doesnt really hold it against him either

there's some guilt to him. perhaps a bit of self loathing.

but he couldnt approach gary on his own. his nerves were too shot.

sure gary threw his friend jimmy to russell. and sure gary's been picking on him for years at this point. but to beat the shit out of him, his best friend, after he's stayed with him for just about a decade?

he couldnt trust him again

he hardly trusted him to begin with honestly, gary had been beating him down and making sure he knew whatever prior cuts he made at him didnt hurt in the slightest before.

thankfully jimmy isnt as sensitive as he is.

~~~~~

Jimmy & Petey 🐕🐇

poor kids. two peas in a pod thrown under the bus

petey may have been apprehensive of jimmy at first, due to his general attitude and knack for mayhem.

but as time passed jimmy showed his true colors and proved to be a Good person (if prone to manipulation)

it wasnt long before petey started to trust him more than gary. and after the betrayal, jimmy was all he really had.

(admittedly he did try to join the nerds but earnest called him a faggot and said no)

petey isnt meek. he isn't soft. his venom is often dwarfed by everyone else's, but he still holds a rage. even if he keeps it inside. part of him did want to get back at gary. but another part still felt concern for his old friend spiraling like mad. even moreso considering he pushed him the way he did, with that argument mentioned.

im saying this ^ bc he felt an obligation to advise jimmy on what to do, especially regarding gary. hoping he could get him calmed tf down so they could go back to normal, as friends, again.

but they werent particularly close. kinda like business partners. jimmy blowing him off half the time didnt help matters.

but again. petey didnt have anyone else.

just a poor guy caught in the middle of their homoerotic rivalry

~~~~~

i have so many lores for these stupid cunts.

anyway reminder that my inbox is open for requests in general. woof

[hc masterpost link]

[conceptionsofconciousness]

Jyestha Nakshatra individuals are truly gifted with creative talents and a strong musical inclination. With a natural ability to keep the beat and a knack for rhythm, they excel in any form of artistic expression they choose to pursue. Jyestha natives, in particular, shine in the realm of music composition or any form of performance that requires script writing. Their capacity to express emotions and ideas through art, script, or music is enchanting, captivating others and creating a bridge for connection through their creative prowess.

More posts on Jyestha Nakshatra

Nakshatra Notes Masterpost (Link collection of all 27 Nakshatras)

[fushiglow]

Over the Threshold | art masterpost

In the wildest turn of events, people have created so much beautiful fan art for Over the Threshold that I've run out of characters in the end notes to link them all. So I'm creating a masterpost which I'll link at the end of the fic instead.

Please note I have turned off reblogs on this post to encourage you to share the artists' posts directly (and so I can continue to update it over time)! You can find all art for the fic posted to Tumblr (including some extras!) under the #threshold art tag on my blog, along with all of my navigation tags in my main masterpost. However, this post also includes art posted elsewhere, as well as links to my commentary where I feel it's worthwhile.

Everything is linked chapter by chapter under the cut. Unless specified, the links will keep you on site, with options to view the art on other platforms where available. As always, thank you so much to all the incredible people who've created such amazing pieces inspired by my beloved story. It really means the world ♥

Chapter 1: Introduction

I created a piece of "cover art" to accompany the fic which is a visual representation of the recurrent theme that inspired the title. It relates to the opening of the fic and makes a big comeback in chapter 11. I am a writer before I'm an artist, and I don't even want to tell you how many hours I spent on this piece, but it still means a lot to me.

Chapter 2: Exposition

Suguru listening to Satoru play for the very first time by the wonderful Shana (also available to view on X or Instagram)! This is such an important scene which holds so much weight for me and for the fic, and I'm delighted to be able to share in how Shana imagined this moment. I'm obsessed with Suguru's gorgoeus hair and his soft expression as he looks at Satoru.

Chapter 3: Dissonance

i) The closing moments of this chapter by sweet sweet bean (also available to view on Bluesky). It's the most precious gift to see the performance of Blue brought to life. I get to step outside of the story as though I didn't write it, and it's simply magical to feel like I'm experiencing it for the first time.

ii) An absolutely stunning depiction of Satoru on stage by the incredible kou, complete with an "I love you, Satoru" poster in the crowd. Kou works with traditional media only and the skill on show absolutely astounds me, never mind the knack kou displays for capturing so much personality in a piece. This really brought the K-pop idol, Satoru, to life in my head and I'll treasure it forever!

Chapter 4: Consonance

i) An absolutely stunning imagining of Satoru discovering Suguru's Blue Spring by the wonderful Arina! I really want to talk about how this piece has influenced me and this story, but I need to be patient for a little while longer. Just know that I love it with all my heart.

ii) A gorgeous 'what if?' scenario by the one and only Kim, inspired by the sofa scene! The kiss in chapter 8 is one of the very first scenes I wrote for this story, and I lost my mind when Kim drew an almost exact match for it here. I couldn't tell her how much I was losing my mind about it until I published the chapter over a month later!

iii) A beautiful interpretation of musician Suguru by the incredible falleen! I adore the choices they made with his piercings and tattoos, and Suguru is simply gorgeous in their style. He's the perfect balance of soft and sharp and all the more stunning for it.

iv) Sweaty Satoru with Suguru post-concert by lovely mel! Satoru having absolutely no sense of personal space and simp Suguru letting himself be used as a towel, you will always be famous. They're so cute!

Chapter 5: Leitmotif

i) Satoru confessing to Suguru, captured in an amazing comic by the brilliant Lulu (also available to view on X)! It's so incredibly cinematic to the point that I felt like I was experiencing the scene for the first time as a reader — mindblowing stuff! Lulu really encapsulated the feeling of the world stopping and shrinking for Suguru in this moment and I'm obsessed. Bonus points for a panel of best boy, Fushiguro Megumi!

ii) A gorgeous depiction of Satoru's confession (on X) by the wonderful Anqi! The attention to detail is mindblowing — the infinity earring, the sparkly outfit, the cocksure grin, and my dear blushy Suguru! The collarbones and the dimple and the mullet also happened to change my life. Such beautiful work on every front!

Chapter 6: Prosody

i) Satoru teasing Suguru with his cheeky wordplay (on Instagram) from chapter six by the amazing ghost (also available to view on X)! There is so much to love — the contrast in their expressions, the sparkle to Suguru's eyes, his piercings and tattoos, Satoru's big fluffy hoodie, and the warm soft lighting giving Suguru's home studio this safe, intimate atmosphere.

ii) Our silly boys moments before disaster by the incredible Arina! I'm endlessly grateful that some of my favourite moments in the fic have been forever captured by Arina!

Chapter 7: Metronome

i) The most life-changing depiction of the gate scene (also available to view on Instagram and X) by incredible kymsys! I'm so lucky Kim enjoys drawing my version of them, because this belongs in a gallery if you ask me.

ii) A beautiful interpretation of my most loved line from this chapter by wonderful Arina! Thank you for all the beautiful art, I'm truly blessed!

iii) Inspired by the fic, this beautiful imagining of SatoSugu recording together by Kou sits perfectly with this chapter and Suguru's musings on making music with Satoru. The way Satoru is looking at him, so lost in the music, just kills me.

iv) Satoru looking gorgeous in his bad boy gear, complete with my poor sweet baby Suguru lost in his imagination, both by the incredible bear! They are beautiful in bear's style, I can't stop looking at Suguwu's gorgeous laughter! Read more about what this means to me in my reblog, but this was actually the first fanart posted publicly for this fic before bear left X (good for them!) and it is so special to me because of it. I'm incredibly happy it's back!

v) Satoru in hair and makeup before his shoot (on X) by the incredibly talented bcwrong! When I saw Beca's art, I lost my mind exactly like Suguru did, I swear. Peep the heart on Satoru's Instagram post — I just know it's Suguru staring at his phone and clenching his fist!

Chapter 8: Counterpoint

i) Lovely Lulu brought the last moments of this chapter into reality in the most gorgeous artwork (also available to view on X) and my heart burst out of my chest. Lulu's ability to paint a story and capture emotions is unmatched, I love this piece with everything I am.

ii) Suguru writing Limitless on the engawa (on X) by the lovely AL. This is such a special scene to me and it means the world to see it depicted so beautifully here. I'm very grateful to AL for giving me permission to share it with readers!

iii) The most breathtaking depiction of Satoru as TEN in STUNNER, created by the incredible Selkie. You can read all of my ramblings about this truly amazing piece in my reblog, but it's safe to say that this one is very special to me.

iv) The adorable moment with the teddy bear knees (on Bluesky), captured in all its glory by wonderful Kou. Truly, Kou is such a gift to this story, and I'm indebted to her for all the inspiration!

Chapter 9: Call and response

i) In the most dangerous art for the fic yet, sweet bear drew both thirst traps (also available to view on Instagram) from this chapter. They asked everyone to vote for a winner, determined to divide the SatoSugu fandom once and for all. In the end, one (canonically correct) man came out on top, but did you guys have to go so hard on the other guy? Regardless of my dismay, please please take a look, they are both absolutely stunning!

ii) The amazing Sel drew beautiful idol Satoru inspired by Taemin, along with Suguru making heart eyes at the photoshoots while he's waiting for him to come home. Taemin has been a huge source of inspiration for Satoru in this fic, and I've even envisioned Suguru exactly like this many times while writing. It's so fun to imagine producer Sugu dealing with the trials and tribulations of having a pretty idol boyfriend — but also all the fun parts that come with it!

Chapter 10: Ad libitum

i) After all the chatter about TAEMIN's influence on Satoru in this fic, Lulu drew an unbelievably delicious idol Satoru (also available to view on X) in TAEMIN's 2019 Dream Concert look! I'm in love with him and I'm in love with Lulu.

ii) Lils put together a stunning depiction of the first scene (as well as idol Satoru as the face of Dior Lip Glow Oil. That's my interpretation, but I decided it's canon in this universe, teehee!) which is so meaningful to me in so many ways! The fact that Lils chose to depict their domesticity specifically, as well as the musical stave weaving between their bodies as they lean in? It's such beautiful visual storytelling, I love this piece so much.

iii) The incredible Kim also drew some beautiful studies of Suguru's tattoos from the opening of this chapter. She was originally working on these for our collab on Dolce (an accompanying spicy oneshot that sits after chapter 11), but I absolutely love the domesticity she's captured here. That feels so important to Suguru's character! Also, are we all seeing that treble clef snaking down Suguru's waist in the top second to left image? The way the tendrils almost start to bleed into a stave? Genius.

iv) Giulia drew a blissfully happy SatoSugu (on X) basking in their much deserved success. I just love Suguru's adoring expression as he gazes at Satoru — canon Suguru behaviour! Lots of beautiful little details to notice in this, but make sure to peep the name of the record on the wall!

Chapter 11: Caesura

i) The incredible lils has blessed this fic with her talent yet again, this time with the most breathtaking visual interpretation of this chapter. I wrote about six paragraphs gushing about this piece in my reblog, because I couldn't believe how accurately (and beautifully) it depicted the abstract ideas at play here — as well as my musical composition choices for Blue, which is both amazing and a little uncanny considering no one know what the songs sounds like except for me! Please, please take a look at this incredible piece, it really adds a new dimension to this chapter.

ii) Lovely Giulia captured the devastating final scene from this chapter in the most stunning piece (on Bluesky, also available to view on X). It perfectly encapsulates the new sadness to blue for Suguru in this moment; the blue tone of the backlighting washing over their bodies gives it such melancholy, moody feel. Giulia paid such close attention to the writing and that really shines through in her work, but it also just means a lot to me. I feel incredibly grateful to have such intelligent, thoughtful readers and even more grateful that they feel inspired enough to depict my work in their own medium.

iii) Vinh created a beautiful 'behind the scenes' piece for Sugar (on Bluesky) for the fic's first birthday, and it was such a sweet surprise! I'm obsessed with Satoru's cheeky grin, his tiny waist, his incredible outfit, as well as the contrast with the more muted tone of Suguru's image. From the colour choices to the clothing to the expressions, they're the definition of duality and I think that's lovely as hell.

Chapter 12: Solo (Interlude)

Sel drew another gorgeous idol Satoru inspired by Seonghwa, as well as a stunning piece inspired by the Bite Me choreography (both on Bluesky) referenced in this chapter! Sel posts these artworks as though they're images being shared by the Satoru fansite, "HoneySweetie" and I think that's the neatest damn thing…

Chapter 13: Ostinato

Yet more devastating art by kou, this time of my babies in the final scene of this chapter. The anguish in Suguru's expression and the concern literally shining in Satoru's eyes is just gut-wrenching. Combined with the one-two punch of the plaster on his elbow and the SPIDER LILIES on the wall behind him… Oh… Yeah, it's not fun when you guys do it.

Chapter 14: Pure tone

The most devastating and beautiful depiction of Suguru (also available to view on Bluesky), exactly how I picture him in this chapter. This is by my beloved bean, who was working on this in with me in the lead up to this update. We finished at almost exactly the same time and it feels like fate.

Miscellaneous

i) The most gorgeous Satoru photocards, complete with the teddy bear knees from chapter 8, by my lovely bear once again. The colours are so vibrant, I need these printed out for real! They were also used in...

ii) Suguru taking a cheeky selfie with his Satoru photocards by Lulu in an impromptu collab with bear, I guess! Thank god for Lulu, thank god for bear, and thank god for this trend, I guess?

iii) A bunch of cute Satorus by bear yet again, including the lil chibi I use for Ask Satoru and GGUM Gojo! Yeonjun is Satoru is Yeonjun, we don't make the rules.

iv) Gorgeous Satoru inspired by Jackson Wang by lovely lils! The reference for this artwork was one of the first images I added to my Pinterest board for the fic, so this felt like fate to me! Huge Satoru inspiration in Jackson Wang!

v) More Satorus (and a Suguru) where lils is helping to push the glo puppyjo agenda. Someone (Suguru) pet that cutie!

vi) An idol AU spin off inspired by the fic which also inspired a spin off fic of my own... Lils knows all about K-pop AU 2, she knows that it's her fault when I deliver the most devastating idol AU ending to ever. (Kidding but. Not really.)

vii) A gorgeous video featuring moments from some stellar fics (also available to view on Instagram), including yours truly, by the amazing Lulu yet again! Suguru's being the only face Satoru sees in the crowd, their matching blushes, ahhhhh. This means so much to me. Lulu means so much to me.

viii) A heartbreaking "what if?" scenario by lovely Lulu (also available to view on Bluesky and Instagram). What you don't know is that she also created a secret version with a tiny snippet of Blue that I shared with her and I fully sobbed.

ix) An adorable Satoru photocard by Sel (plus a bonus with gorgeous idol Suguru on Bluesky)! He is such a pretty cutie baby!

x) Another beautiful STUNNER Satoru (on Bluesky), this time by the amazing fafel! We shared some thoughts about idols and mirrors which got me thinking deeply...

Headroom

The amazing bear drew a WHOLE SPREAD of moments from this naughty fic, and you can view two of them on Bluesky and Tumblr respectively! I love bear so much (was that clear already?) and I'm very grateful for the WIPs while I was writing, because they definitely gave me the motivation to get this over the finish line!

Dolce

i) To accompany this very special (and E-rated!) additional scene set after chapter 11, the incredible Kim created this gorgeous piece of Satoru showing Suguru how beautiful he is (also available to view on Instagram and X)!

ii) Sel also drew Satoru looking absolutely drop dead gorgeous on stage (on Bluesky) from the start of the fic, and I'm simply obsessed. The fingers around the mic stand… the sheen on his neck… the sleek black suit… his delicious undercut… ugh, please take a look, I'm in love with him!

A Cappella

Yet more tasty bear art of poor Suguru having his sad wank (on Bluesky) which bear posted to manipulate me into finishing this oneshot when I was shy about posting it. Worth it for this alone, I think!

Vocal Rest

Look at poor Satoru on "vocal rest" after the events of this fic! He's such a cutie, but I just know this broke Suguru's heart!

Phantom Power

This little update to From the Cutting Room Floor was a collab with bean, who produced the most beautiful artwork (also available to view on Bluesky) to accompany the fic. This is a collaboration in the truest sense of the word — the writing inspired the art inspired the writing ad infinitum — and I am in love with what bean created for this very special piece.

Fin ♥

At least for now!

[knight-a3]

Hazbin Sketchbook Tour part 5

Masterpost

Because Rosie is an overlord, I wanted to give her a more threatening form to contrast her usually pleasant demeanor.

I like Angel Dust's gangster hat and think he should wear it more often.

More commentary under the cut

Rosie is the leader of Cannibal Town for a reason, and has earned the loyalty of her fellow cannibals. If you mess with her, you incur the wrath of them all. She may not be a particularly powerful overlord by herself, but she is still an overlord for a reason. Between her deceptively unassuming appearance(hiding a more sinister form), her loyal cannibals, her knack for collecting gossip, and her powerful alliances(Alastor in particular), she is not to be underestimated.

Everyone I have shown this to so far has commented that My spooky Rosie reminds them of the Other Mother from Coraline. Which was exactly the inspiration. That, and wendigos. Which leads me on a tangent.

SO! Lots of people theorize that Alastor is a wendigo due to his deer-like appearance. Looking at the actual lore of wendigos, this cannot be true. I don't know where the deer looking monster idea came from, but a wendigo looks more like a freaky and emaciated person. Until Dawn has a pretty accurate representation of them.

Which, coincidentally, resembles the cannibals in Hazbin more than Alastor. And since wendigos are created through cannibalism, it fits. I doubt this resemblance was intentional, but it's there.

Personally, I don't think Alastor was a cannibal while he was alive. His preference is venison(aka deer meat). He had no qualms about participating after death though. Something about cannibalism is especially unnerving for others, and he likes that. It's a good intimidation practice. I have more to say about what Alastor is, but that's for another day.

[spaceistheplaceart]

Body Swap - The Exorcism Part Two

wanted to do a bit more but ough i am TIRED... this took a lot out of me lmao but i hope y'all enjoy! lmk what u think in the tags/replies/asks :)

masterpost

previous

(Please Reblog! Leave a comment in the tags! They make me very happy :)

SUMMARIZED ID: Reigen and Mob are shown the client's living room, it is in disarray. Reigen begins investigating the room, but begins to feel the presence of spirits... They keep a sharp eye out, as something moves about the room quickly.

FULL ID UNDER CUT

START ID:

(This is a body swap, so I'll be referring to the characters as who they actually are but keep in mind that Reigen is in Mob's body and vice versa.)

Mob watches Dimple fly leave, then goes inside Hiroto's house by shutting the door.

Cut to inside, Hiroto is opening a door for Mob and Reigen. Reigen has his hands on his hips. The client says, "This is where it's been happening." The room inside is moderately sized with a triple pane window on the far left wall. There is a fireplace, a couch, a ripped up armchair, two carpets- both rumpled and one torn, a doggy bed, a toy train, some balls, a tipped over coffee table, some askew and fallen paintings, some shelving units, and a chest of drawers on the right hand wall that has upon it multiple knick knacks. A drawer is missing from it and laying on the floor. There is a book with some pages torn out as well. All in all, it's a room that has seen some damage.

Hiroto lifts a nearby painting, showing three long scratches that were seen previously in the comic as a flashback. "See?" He says, looking at Mob. Mob looks at the scratches, somewhat narrowing his eyes. "Hmm..."

Reigen steps in, leaned over with his hand on his chin, looking at the scratches. Hiroto looks down at him, a little surprised. Reigen asks, "Hmm... have you noticed any strange smells?" "Smells?" The client repeats.

"Yes, like something rotting or damp. Spirits can sometimes carry over scents from their bodies, and that helps us determine which kind of ghost it is." Reigen says, gesturing with one hand while pointing upwards with the other. Hiroto shrugs, smile askew. "No, I haven't smelled anything strange..." He turns to Mob. "What do you think?"

Mob stands in the middle of the room, looking up. "Hmmm. I... don't feel anything." His speech bubble is overlapped by Reigen's, "AHAHA!!!" Reigen laughs, moving to Mob's side and resting one hand on Mob's arm, smiling wide and nervous as he explains to Hiroto: "They must be so weak that my Master is having a hard time picking up on them, but I can sense something in this room... ah, I can sense weaker spirits-- you know. I take care of them for my Master."

Mob gives Reigen a deadpan look. "Is that all you do?" Reigen's smile dims and he sweats.

"Al... right. Well, I'll leave you two to it... I've got to run to the store for a bit..." Hiroto crosses his arms. "And those ghosts better be gone when I get back."

Reigen waves a hand dismissively, using his customer service smile. "Don't worry, Mr. Hiroto, we'll have your spirit problem taken care of in no time!"

Hiroto begins to shut the door. He smiles nervously. "Sure thing..." He leaves.

After a moment, Mob looks down at Reigen, who is now crouching and looking at the scratches. He joins him on the floor.

Reigen says, "Hm... This guy could have a mouse problem. Or termites, possibly... hopefully not."

"I don't think mice could tip over chairs, Master."

"True, but the dogs could chase the mice and knockk over the chairs...." Reigen holds up a finger, his eyes are shut as he lectures Mob. "Always rule out the probable, Mob! Then, you can start looking for the less probable." Mob looks unimpressed.

Reigen stands up, hand in his pocket. "You do have a point, Mob. Although I hate to admit it... This could be a real hauntiiii-IIING!" His speech transitions into a yelp as his back straightens and eyes go wide. The background of the panel is dark with white wisps darting across it. Reigen crosses his arms and glares off to the side, his hair floating up due to his psychic abilities. He shudders. "Do you think the client would notice if we turned his A/C up? It's freezing in here!"

"I'm not cold." Mob responds.

Reigen grits his teeth and narrows his eyes, still tense. He's shivering. "Huh? It's freezing! Are you anemic or... something? Sensitive to cold?"

"No, I think the cold is probably the spirits."

Reigen flinches, then looks off to the side, smiling nervously. "Oh! Yes! Yes. The spirits! I recognize it now. Uh... you don't feel anything, do you?"

"Nope."

"Great." He puts his hand to his chin in thought. "What do you see, then? Anything?"

"Master, I don't have powers right now, remember?"

Reigen stares at Mob, his hair floating up due to his powers again. The background is dark and shadow-y, with the colouring of Reigen being all white. He's pale.

The next panel is of a similar style, dark and silent as they both look at eachother.

Mob angles his head down, looking at Reigen through his bangs and sweating slightly. "... Because we've switches bodies, I only have your powers right now... not mine?" The panel colour is lighter, and Reigen's hair calms slightly.

"Right." Reigen says, sighing and turning away from Mob, arms crossed. The panel is nearly white again, like normal. Mob is looking to the side, too, eyes downturned with a sweat drop on his cheek.

A view of a model train set, turned over. The carpet is rumpled and there is a painting sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall. Reigen speaks, "I definitely feel something in this room... but I don't see it. Keep a sharp eye out, just in case. Even if you're having trouble with my powers, I'm sure you can still pull something off."

Mob and Reigen stand back to back, glancing around the room. Then something 'wooshes', represented by a panel with a dark gray background and white lines flowing across it with the text 'woosh' on it.

Reigen startles, turning to look at the far side of the room. There is nothing of note there. He sees only the window, the couch, and the chair.

END ID.

[nellasbookplanet]

Book recs: aro and ace sff, vibes edition

While I'm working on my canonical in-text-only aroace rec list, have this more vibes based edition! These are books which center platonic and/or hard to define relationships over romantic and/or sexual ones. Basically they are books that made me, a certified romance disliker, especially connect with the way they portrayed and prioritized non-romantic relationships, whether they're canonically aro/ace or not.

For more details on the books, check under the readmore! My personal favorites are marked with an *. For more rec lists, take a look at my masterpost!

Canonical aro and/or ace

Elatsoe by Darcie Little Badger

Young adult. Elatsoe's America is slightly different from the one we know. Magics and monsters both everyday and dangerous inhabit her world. Elatsoe herself can raise the ghosts of dead animals, a skill passed down through generations of her Lipan Apache family. When her cousin is murdered, Elatsoe decides to find out just what happened, even as his home town does everything it can to bury a truth older and larger than she could've imagined.

Not Even Bones by Rebecca Schaeffer*

Young adult. Nita isn’t a murderer - technically. She just dissects the bodies of supernatural beings her mother brings home and sells for parts on the black market. But when her mother brings home a still living victim, Nita has had enough and frees him. As it turns out, no good deed goes unpunished as Nita is betrayed, her own nature as a supernatural entity outed as she’s kidnapped and placed behind bars. Now she must find a way to escape before she’s sold for parts.

Winter Tide by Ruthanna Emrys*

Aphra and her brother are the only survivors after the government raided their home, Innsmouth. Their only living family are the amphibian people of the deep, whom they will one day join, but until then they are bound to land where they struggle to build new lives for themselves after the great loss of their home and loved ones. Then rumors start to spread of a Russian agent seeking dangerous and ancient magic, forcing Aphra to involve herself as they try to stop it.

All Systems Red by Martha Wells*

After having hacked its own governor module, SecUnit uses its small amount of new freedom to secretly download and watch as much media as it can between doing its job guarding humans. But when the scientists it’s been charged with keeping safe come under attack, it must make a choice about whether to continue keeping its freedom secret or risk it all to save them. I leave up to individual judgment whether SecUnit counts as agender, asexual and aromantic, as it is a robot.

The Angel of the Crows by Katherine Addison*

Sherlock Holmes retelling. After having been injured fighting a war against fallen angels, Doyle returns to London to survive on only a veteran’s pension. To afford a place to live in the city, Doyle finds a housemate in Crow, an eccentric angel with a great curiosity for humans and a knack for solving crime. And London needs its protector - supernatural beings walk the streets, and someone going by the name Jack the Ripper terrifies the citizens at night.

Vicious by V.E. Schwab

While studying near-death experiences as college roommates, Victor and Eli discovered something incredible: under the right circumstances, someone can develop seemingly supernatural abilities. When they moved their research to the experimental stage, things went horribly wrong. Ten years later, Victor has broken out of jail and sets out to hunt his former friend, who is on a mission to eradicate all other superpowered people in existence.

Word of god aro and/or ace

Vespertine by Margaret Rogerson

Young adult fantasy. Artemisia prefers the dead to the living, and is training to become a Gray Sister, a nun who helps the souls of the deceased pass on to the afterlife rather than remain as dangerous spirits. To defend her convent, Artemisia accepts the help of a dangerous revenant, a powerful spirit which grants her great power but also could possess her the moment her guard is lowered. As evil threatens her homeland, Artemisia and the revenant must find a way to work together.

Archivist Wasp by Nicole Kornher-Stace

Wasp is the chosen Archivist in a post-apocalyptic world haunted by the dead. Her job is to hunt the ghosts that still linger, a dangerous and lonely position where she every year is made to fight others to not be replaced. When she meets the ghost of a super soldier, Wasp strikes a deal with him to help him find a long lost friend in exchange for learning more about the world that once was.

The Spider and her Demons by sydney khoo*

Young adult fantasy. All teenager Zhi wants is a normal life (and possibly for her harsh aunt to be a bit nicer), but it’s hard when she’s half spider demon. Every day she must conceal her true nature and hide in human guise. When she slips up and eats a man in front of her rich, aloof classmate Dior, Zhi thinks her life is over. But Dior has secrets of her own, and she is dead set on making herself part of Zhi’s life.

Not canonically aro and/or ace but have The Vibes

Lycanthropy and Other Chronic Illnesses by Kristen O'Neal*

Priya had plans to go to Stanford, but is derailed by the fallout of lyme disease, making her question if she’ll ever get back to normal. Luckily she has her discord support group with whom she can chat and vent about her illness. Even more - she has Brigid, online fandom friend and fellow chronic illness sufferer. But when Brigid disappears from the web without warning, Priya must drive to Pennsylvania to make sure her friend is okay - and finds that Brigid’s condition is a bit hairier than expected.

Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir*

Ryland Grace just woke up from a coma, unable to remember anything. He finds himself alone on a space ship, and as his memories slowly trickle back, he realizes he’s been sent on a mission: to find a solution to the impending doom of planet earth. Still struggling with holes in his memories, Ryland tries to fulfill his mission, but as he gets closer to his goal, he discovers someone else got there first. And they aren’t anything close to human. Funny, heartfelt, and heavy on the science.

Malevolent by Harlan Guthrie*

Lovecraftian horror mystery. Private detective Arthur Lester wakes up in his office, his partner dead, memories fuzzy, vision gone, and the voice of a malevolent entity in his mind. Unable to see, Arthur is forced to rely on guidance from the entity as they attempt to solve the mystery of what it is and where it came from. Is this a book? No. But as someone who reads mostly audiobooks, the difference between a book and a fiction podcast is negligible, and also I love this story and its characters and want all of you to do so too.

The Girl from the Well by Rin Chupeco

Young adult horror. Okiku died three hundred years ago, her body thrown down a well. Now she spends her days hunting for and punishing murderers like the one who once killed her. When a strange boy bearing odd tattoos appears in her area, he catches Okiku’s attention - as does something that follows after him. To save the boy, Okiku will be drawn into a journey taking both of them from American suburbia to a faraway shrine in Japan.

Radiant by Karina Sumner-Smith*

In a world where magic is currency, Xhea, wholly devoid of magic, is the lowest of the low. She does have one special ability, though: she can see ghosts. This ability proves useful when she meets Shai, the ghost of a girl from the higher echelons of society who isn't actually dead yet. Her body stolen and her ghost on the run, Shai needs Xhea's help.

A Closed and Common Orbit by Becky Chambers*

Technically part two of a series, but stands well on its own as the installments are only loosely connected (though I recommend reading the first book as well, it’s very good). A former ship’s AI recently moved into an illegal android body tries to make sense of life as she navigates her way through humans and aliens alike, paralleled with the story of a young girl working alongside and AI to flee a dystopian planet.

A Psalm for the Wild-Built by Becky Chambers

Novella. Long ago, robots, upon gaining sentience, simply laid down their work and walked into the wilderness. Long after, a tea monk looking for purpose follows after them into the wilds, where they come across one of the robots seeking its own sort of answers. While not plotless, this story focuses more on character and vibes over plot. Also has a nonbinary main character and features conversations on gender between human and robot.

Zero Sum Game by S.L. Huang*

Cas Russel is more than just good at math - she can calculate accurately and quickly enough to dodge bullets and fight those twice her size with ease. She thought she was the only one with an ability like this, until she discovers someone with a power even more dangerous than hers, able to reach into and twist the minds of others. Suddenly too involved to simply run away, Cas must not only save the day, but do so while she can't trust her own thoughts.

Skulduggery Pleasant by Derek Landy*

Young adult. Twelve-year-old Stephanie Edgley’s uncle, famed horror writer, just died mysteriously and left her his entire fortune. As it turns out, the stories he wrote weren’t entirely made up, and that which killed him wasn’t entirely human. In trying to avenge his death, Stephanie joins forces with Skulduggery Pleasant, sorcerer, detective, and living, walking skeleton. Including this one is kinda cheating because (part of) the series has romance, but the central relationship is always the codependent nonsense (affectionate) between the lead and her mentor/detective partner.

When the Angels Left the Old Country by Sacha Lamb*

The angel Uriel and the demon Little Ash have been friends for centuries, living and studying together in a small Jewish community in Europe. But times are changing, and many of the community have left for a new life across the sea. When one of these emigrants go missing, Uriel and Little Ash decide to leave their peaceful life to go find and, if needed, save her.

Ancillary Justice by Ann Leckie

A space opera in which sentient spaceships can walk the ground in stolen human bodies, so called ancillaries. One of these ancillaries, the sole survivor after the complete destruction of her ship and crew, is one the hunt for revenge against the most powerful woman in the empire. This series also does very cool things with gender!

Translation State by Ann Leckie*

An exploration of the alien as filtered through the human. At what point does the human become something else? When does something else become human? Is it a question of biology or culture, nature or nurture? Can we choose it? Can it be forced upon us? Set in the Imperial Radch universe, Translation State follows three different characters embroiled in the question of what makes a human. The alien Presger can only communicate with humans using their translators - people they’ve created that are not quite human and not quite alien. But as news of a translator fugitive arises, conflict brews regarding what right they have to choose their own identity and home.

[lenreli]

Conduit [Dreamling Week Day 2 - Flowers]

[AO3] | [Dreamling Week '24 Masterpost]

E, 2.9k. An innocently given gift becomes much more.

-

It starts with a simple gift. A flower, a red rose, made from dreams and everlasting, as long as Hob wanted it to last ― and one time, Dream thought of giving him one, in the 15th century, but threw it away, letting it dissolve into nothing before he entered The White Horse. 

“It’s beautiful,” Hob whispers, brown eyes glued to the flower in his hands, held so gently and Dream wants, seeing how delicately Hob touches it, one finger going up a soft green stem to the bottom of the rose. 

“A gift,” he says as he steps away, mouth dry as Hob continues to softly touch it, a finger softly touching the top of the red petals. “It will never wilt.” 

Hob smiles so brightly that Dream’s unsure how the local star can compete as Hob holds it even more delicately, holding it close to his chest as Hob starts to ramble, going on about fake flowers and boutique, avant-garde art that Dream’s present could pass as. 

“I’m glad you like it,” Dream whispers, watching as Hob walks around his various knick-knacks for the perfect vase to match it, eventually digging up a thin black vase with golden cracks through it from a spare room. Kinstugi.

-

It’s as he’s listening to a Nightmare’s concerns that Dream realises, a soft touch flowing through him that he stops, the Nightmare freezing in place. 

Then another touch, fluttering inside and Dream vanishes into his room as there’s another touch, near his thighs and he shivers, shutting his eyes at the feeling. And also, to reach out to where the touch originates― 

His flower, the red rose, intertwined with him, his yearning as Hob works at his office at university, and Dream gasps as a finger goes through the centre of the rose, arousal coiling the warmth of it so deep inside. Whining, he can see that Hob’s not even paying attention, the fingers pressing into the rose more of a fidget as he works at something on his laptop. 

Keening, he can only feel the soft pads of Hob’s fingers inside, warmth pressing against suddenly-made ribs and organs, more for the soft wisps to touch as Hob lightly touches the outside of the petals, moving to the top and Dream can only cry, only aware as the fingers leave, cold returning in their place. 

I should stop this, he thinks with harsh clarity―then, he can hear it, the vase being pulled closer to Hob, quiet words whispered to the flower. Not anything focused on Dream, more Hob talking to himself as he works through references and books, warm gusts of breath heating him up as Hob continues to work. 

Dream closes his eyes and soaks in the warmth. 

-

He… forgets. To stop it, although next time he visits Hob in his home, he’s glad to know that the rose is nowhere in the vicinity. “My friend!” Hob beams at him, coming closer like he’s going to hug―and then Hob stops. 

“Hello,” he offers, strangling the disappointment and bitterness that he feels as Hob moves to get something close to him, a record. “No university today?” 

Hob laughs and gets the vinyl record out, putting it softly onto the turntable setup he has “It’s the weekend, Dream!” Hob waves a hand and looks down at his clothes, a threadbare white shirt and blue boxer shorts, “and I was going to get dressed and mark some of my things at The New Inn.” 

“Why the music?” Dream frowns and stares at the record spinning, Pink Floyd flooding the house as Hob walks into his kitchen. Eventually following, he finds Hob getting out a sourdough bread and eggs. 

“It’s nice while making food, of course,” Hob mumbles, getting more things out of the fridge and other cupboards and Dream watches, the whorls of fingerprints still aching underneath his skin, his ribs.

-

At his Shores of Creation, working on a multi-limbed dream, he feels a light touch up his back. Stopping his work, he shuts his eyes and can see Hob’s office, hazy and transient as a thumb lightly touches the side of the rose. It’s a gift from a friend, Hob says, eyes soft as they stare down at the rose and Dream’s just-made heart thuds in his chest. 

Some friend, huh? Someone else says, voice light and soft and can almost see her expression as Hob laughs, fingers going down the green stem and Dream lets out sound at the touch, hot and sharp from Hob’s nails. The press of it is maddening as a finger fiddles with a leaf on the stem. 

He’s very important to me. Shut up, Hob pouts and pulls the rose closer, and Dream lets out a gasp at the touch of lips on top of the rose, on his head. 

Okay loverboy, calm down, Hob’s friend says with a laugh and he can feel a huff, Hob’s hand curling tighter around the rose and Dream moans, shaking at the feel of so much, mind stuttering and falling over itself. Stop fondling that and let’s get lunch, you weirdo. 

I’m perfectly normal, Hob mutters, and Dream lets out keen as the connection ends, ghostly touch no longer on him. Opening his eyes, he looks up at the sky as he takes a deep breath as he sits up, somehow ending up lying on the sand. 

Shivering, Dream puts a hand on his chest, the touch doing nothing as his half-finished creations stare down at him.

-

The connection flares to life, effectively distracting from a report Mervyn is giving about ― flowers, red petals that he complains are flooding the grounds of the castle. He can feel the cause of that flowers, a touch pressing below the flower itself, at the top of the stem, can see Hob at his desk, a mass of white paper he’s focusing on. 

“Again?!” Mervyn complains and stalks off, grumbling and Dream fades back into his bedroom, knowing that working like this wouldn’t be productive. A finger goes down the green stem and Dream gasps, sinking onto his bed as Hob talks to himself ― mainly, about the essays he’s grading, the words blurry and out of focus compared to the hand fiddling with the flower, stroking up and down the stem as Hob yawns and scratches his forehead. 

Dream’s skin tingles as Hob seems to notice his other hand on the flower, making him grumble to himself more ― and Dream almost swallows his tongue as Hob brings the flower closer, stubble pressing into the flower ― and into him, as Hob rests his jaw on the petals. The rough, prickly feeling makes him whimper, pleasure heightening to absurd levels so quickly that it makes him dizzy, falling into the sensations even more. 

Hob sighs, expression disappointed with what he’s reading and Dream can feel the orgasm approaching as a finger goes up, tracing the edge of a petal ― and the wracking pleasure of coming feels secondary to the way the finger goes inside, pressing softly inside as Hob yawns once more, stretching in his place. 

The oversensitivity itches, sharp sensation at the way Hob’s jaw returns to the petal, and a sound is wrenched out of him at the way he can feel soft hair and Dream, as always, feel the urge to reach out to touch the soft skin he can feel, the calluses on the other’s hands. 

-

Spending a morning in on Hob’s lecture is something he’s never getting enough of ― seeing Hob in his element, around people, as he asks questions of his students, and they ask in return. Hob never seems to be awkward around people, bright and engaging, and Dream envies the ease at which Hob carries himself. Even with being a King, it feels awkward and ill-fitting, not right or true, though people never realise it. 

“What do you think of―Dream?” Hob asks and he blinks, thoughts crashing since they’re in Hob’s office, and he freezes at the sight of the red flower, still in its black-gold vase. “Dream?” 

“Yes?” He blinks, holding himself still as Hob hovers over his desk ― and the flower, insides becoming hot at just the sight of it. 

Hob looks down at his desk and shrugs, smiling, “ah. Nevermind. I never got you a gift in return for this, did I?” Hob says softly, a hand hovering above the flower and Dream goes even more still.

“It’s fine,” he replies quickly and Hob blinks, looking at him with confusion as he puts his hand onto the table. Dream relaxes, insides scorching hot at just the thought of previous touches, still imprinted onto him.

“Still, you’re my friend and I’d want to give something to you in return,” Hob sighs and gets out some things from his bag, putting it onto the table. 

“You have already given me your friendship, which is enough,” he says as Hob gets out a plastic bento box. 

“Even so, might do some sort of thing for you anyway,” Hob says with a grin, shaking his bento, “gonna go heat this up. Won’t be long! Don’t go anywhere. Or, at least, leave a note or something, please,” he continues and Dream nods, watching Hob rush out the door.

Dream gives a wary look to the flower, still as red and green as the day it was made ― and drifts over to Hob’s many books, eventually finding one that seems interesting enough to read while Hob has his lunch break.

-

Mainly, Dream has been waiting, not much work being done as Mervyn despairs even more over the constant red petals. 

Then, a fizzling sensation trails up his back and Dream sinks into the sensation, into his bed. Hob is in his office, a thumb pressing up the back of the stem, staring down at the flower in contemplation and Dream wants. Can feel himself overflow with it as the thumb presses into the petal, pushing in between them and a keen gets pulled out of him. 

“Hob,” he whimpers, voice loud and Hob unable to hear it as he whines, arching into it as Hob’s thumb reaches the centre, the feeling all-consuming and rough, calluses scratching against the petals. Hob sighs and rests his face on his other hand, and Dream cries out as the thumb drifts out of the flower, moving to stroke the top of it. 

Dream, Hob says, browns furrowing and Dream’s insides twist, gripping at his hair as Hob continues to stare― 

―Then falls against the desk, fast asleep, fingers leaving the flower― 

“Dream?” Hob says, in his realm, in his room, pulled along by Dream’s crushing want. 

“Touch me,” he whines, almost out of his mind with the sudden lack of feeling as Hob gapes, eyes round, in the leather jacket, pants and top he was probably wearing, beard more like 1389. 

“But I was just―” Hob pauses and hovers over him, still looking but not touching―and Hob lets out a sound as Dream’s clothes vanish, as Dream grabs onto the other’s wrist. “Dream―” 

“You will not touch me?” He breathes, looking up from his lashes. Hob lets out a whine, and he shivers as a hand presses against his chest, nails lightly scratching down his torso. 

“I―I do, I want, it’s just. Do you really? Want this?” Hob leans over him, his other hand caressing Dream’s side, still hesitant. 

“Did you not hear me?” He growls, urging the hand he’s grabbed onto to go lower. “I want you,” he whispers, watching as Hob shivers, gulping loudly in the room. “I want you inside, to feel that fully and wholly,” he states, pulling Hob closer until Hob gasps. 

“I, um. Fuck,” Hob breathes, lips so close to his own ― and he moans as Hob kisses him, as hands go down to his hips, the musk of him rich and moreish, mouth tasting of spices. “And the, um. The flower?” Hob squeaks, eyes on his lower half ― at the black flower at his groin, petals unfurling out onto his thighs, his stomach, the centre cluster of it wet and leaking. 

“That flower I gave you,” he breathes, arching into Hob’s fingers, gently stroking the edge of the petals on him, knowing it’s not the answer Hob’s expecting, “accidentally I made a connection with it ― to be touched like that flower, and ever since I’ve felt it, your fingerprints engraved on the inside of me as you touched and fondled that flower.”

Hob groans, other hand going into his hair as they kiss, Hobs’ tongue probing his mouth as the other hand goes closer to the centre, dipping into the folds of the flower and making him whine. “Whenever I touched it, I thought of you, wanting to touch you too, but not knowing if you’d―” Hob strangles out, fingers reaching even deeper into him and pleasure bubbles and fizzles, some far-off part of him wondering if that’s why the flower became a conduit, both of their yearning converging onto the dreamstuff that made it. 

“I would like for you to stop being a tease,” he grabs onto Hob’s clothes, getting rid of them with a thought and they gasp as their skin touches. 

Hob laughs, wild and cracked as he bites down his neck, making Dream moan at the feeling, “I’m still wrapping my head around this, cut me some slack,” Hob speaks into his collarbone, “and this,” Hob’s fingers crook inside  the part of the flower and he keens, a hand threading through Hob’s chest hair, other hand gripping onto the back of Hob’s neck, “this is just so ― you’re so beautiful.” 

Dream tries to say something, but he can only shudder as fingers leave him, ghosting over the petals, closer to the his leaking centre, watching through his lashes as Hob stares at him reverently. And looking down, Dream can see how hard Hob’s cock is, still not inside ― so he digs his nails into Hob’s neck and pulls him down, their mouths meeting desperately as a hard cock brushes against him, feeling pre-come dripping down his petals. 

“Fuck,” Hob swears, language going more Old English as they rut against each other, petals sliding against the hardness so―Dream gasps, feeling fingers go into the centre, twisting roughly and making pleasure jolt through him. “How do you―you feel so soft, like silk,” Hob breathes, nails scratching against his walls and he shivers. 

Putting his other hand into Hob’s hair, his thumb presses the silvers under it―then pulls him in for a brutal kiss, biting into his mouth as Hob whines and shudders against him, fingers twitching sporadically inside him. “And yet,” he doesn’t finish, their mouths connected by a string of saliva, for little how they part. 

Hob swallows, eyes dark as his fingers slip out. “It’s not my fault. I’d want to play for hours if you’d let me,” he says, licking his lips as Hob lines himself up, making Dream scrabble to hold onto the other’s back as his cock finally slides in. 

“After,” he manages, eyes rolling to the back of his head as Hob starts to fuck him, walls clenching tightly around the other’s cock as it slides out, then pushes back in. 

Dream comes either after hours or seconds, time stretching as he is already so coiled tight from lingering ghost touches, flower at his groin curling up tightly around the other’s cock as bliss rocks through him. Hob follows him shortly, gasping as their fluids mix and leak out of him. 

-

Dream is floating, mind clear and feeling the sensations, even after Hob’s gone back to the Waking World. 

Then there’s a familiar connection, a thumb pressed against the edge of the red flower. Dream, Hob says, the hazy connection showing his home and Dream blinks, sitting up as he puts on a sheer black robe and steps into Hob’s apartment. “You’re lucky I keep spare clothes at work after that,” Hob points out, nail dragging under the top of a flower petal ― and Dream bites down a moan. 

“I ― apologise,” he whines, nails and calluses pressing against his skin as a thumb goes into the outer layer of the rose. 

“Nothing to be sorry for, Dream,” Hob says, a nail pressing against the bottom of the rose and Dream kneels underneath the touches. “You did say we could play after though. If you still want.” 

Hob walks closer, the smell of him more concentrated in the Waking, sharp and floral ― or some of that might be the rose still in his hand, other fingers dancing along the outside of the flower and Dream’s mind scrambles under so much as he rests his head against Hob’s thigh. “Yes.”

A dual touch, a finger sliding inside a petal, inside him, as well as Hob’s other hand touching his hair, pulling a moan out of him as Hob kneels down next to him. Buzzing with pleasure, he stares at the other’s dark eyes as Hob tugs him in for a kiss, hair roughly held in his fingers ― the finger in the flower also pressing against the bottom of the flower and he shivers, the touch inside and deep. 

The dual touch may be a lot, but the lack of it is even worse as Hob gets up, leaving him cold as nails scratch up the stem, and he somehow manages to get up, latching onto Hob’s waist as they kiss.

[Fin]

[thefreakandthehair]

@eddiemonth prompt, oct 24th:  Drama | His Kiss the Riot - Anaïs Mitchell | Magnetic a/n: steddie, pining, mutual crushes, forced proximity, the universal theater kid horror of having to hug your crush on stage [click here for the AMAZING corresponding artwork by @artbean!] read on ao3 + masterpost | tumblr masterlist

Community theater isn’t a far leap for Eddie Munson. 

With high school finally far behind him, he’s free to fill his time how he pleases. There aren’t many things about those four cinder block walls that he’d say he misses, but the drama of Hellfire Club makes the short list. So no, it’s not a far leap for Eddie Munson to join the local Hawkins Community Theater. 

It is, however, a moon-landing sized leap to find Steve Harrington in the small auditorium when he shows up for Grease tryouts. Sure, Grease is a little kitsch, maybe a bit too on the nose for his first local community production, but that’s all forgotten when he ends up scoring the role of Kenickie and has to rehearse opposite of Steve’s Zuko. 

Because of course Steve gets cast as Danny Zuko. 

The monsters he’d dreamed up for Hellfire Club were intimidating, but nothing is more horrifying than having to hug the guy who’d been the leading man in most of his wet dreams throughout– and admittedly, even after– high school. 

Day after day, take after take, Eddie as Kenickie asks Steve as Zuko to be his second at Thunder Road, they hug, and then pull away to fix their hair and strut off screen for the set change. Eddie can’t speak for Steve, but the flush to his cheeks and awkward hair combing is not acting. 

Rehearsal has absolutely nothing on opening night, that first time Eddie finds himself shoved into a too-tight space behind the curtain with Steve. In their haste to get out of the way, Eddie stumbles and catches himself against a wall, turning to find Steve nose-to-nose, braced on one forearm against the same wall to the left of Eddie’s head. 

Eddie swallows, harsh and thick, and releases a shaky exhale. “You good, man?” 

Steve grins and nods. “Little tight back here, huh?” 

“Terrible conditions for the leading man, I have to say.” Eddie whispers.

“Eh,” Steve starts. “I don’t think they’re that bad.” 

Eddie’s sure that he’s hallucinated the way Steve’s eyes flicker down to his lips and back up. Wayne always says that Eddie has a knack for seeing what he wants to see, after all. 

“That’s your cue,” Steve moves and jerks his head to the stage. “See you back out there, Kenickie.” The motherfucker winks and Eddie’s head spins, his lines jumbled and his steps just a bit off. 

Hawkins Community Theater’s production of Grease is a two week commitment, six shows in total, and each one gets better and better. Eddie grows more and more confident with his performance during Greased Lightning, landing his marks with ease and actively avoiding the decidedly inappropriate thoughts about Steve kneeling in front of him on the hood of the car. His chemistry with Rizzo, played by none other than Nancy Wheeler, turns into an honest to God friendship that takes them both by surprise. Hell, he’s even gotten dinner with the cast a few times. 

It’s all going smoothly, except that Eddie’s sure he’s going to die before the end of this run. Night after night, Eddie finds himself shoved up against Steve Harrington who must have some sort of bet running to see if he can get Eddie to fold. If so, he’s definitely winning. 

In the show’s final weekend, he ends up crammed between a wall and Steve behind the curtain and really, he’s just a man. How much of this can he be expected to take without his head exploding? Or his– 

“Nice job out there, Munson. Had me convinced you were actually like, flustered or whatever.” Steve whispers, his lips too close to Eddie’s skin. 

He might have imagined it, but he’s fairly certain they actually grazed the reddening tip of his ear. “Oh, are we dropping out of character now? I thought that was strictly forbidden, Zuko.” 

Steve shakes his head and leans in closer, intentionally. It has to be intentional this time, right? “It’s our final show, I think we can just be Harrington and Munson now. Or, maybe just Steve and Eddie?” 

Steve and Eddie, Steve and Eddie, SteveandEddie. 

Eddie's head buzzes, swimming in the combinations of their names. They sound good together, and he can’t be misreading this, not when Steve leans closer still, his eyes glowing with the stage light creeping behind the curtain. Their lips nearly touch when Steve speaks again, close enough for Eddie to feel 

“That’s your cue. I’m gonna miss being stuck back here with you, so let me know after the show.” 

Eddie nearly chokes and purses his lips. “Are you doing this on purpose to throw me off, Harrington?” 

“Just can’t stay away. Munson.” Steve winks again and leans back, making space for Eddie to sneak around him to take his place for the audience. 

Eddie warms beneath the bright lights of the stage, but they have nothing on the scintillating radiance of Steve’s eyes on him backstage.

[datvtranscripts]

The Enemy of My Enemy Pt. 5

Taking Point

Signs and Portents Masterpost Previous: The Gods’ Plans

Rook goes to talk to Varric in the infirmary.

Varric: So Solas told the truth about the gods.

Rook: You heard? It's bad, Varric. If you'd seen D'Meta's Crossing…

Varric: The team needs to act fast… and it can't do that with me leading from a bed. You've gotta take point on this.

Dialogue options:

Affable: I don’t want your job. [1]

Sarcastic: I can’t replace you. [2]

Stoic: If that’s what you want. [3]

1 - Affable: I don’t want your job. Rook: I didn't come in here trying to take your job, Varric. Varric: I know you didn't. But it's what the team needs right now. Rook: You sure? Harding/Neve got hurt because she listened to me.[4]

2 - Sarcastic: I can’t replace you. Rook: I can't do what you do. I've barely been holding it together in the short time you've been out. Varric: You don't need to do what I do. You just need to get it done. [4]

3 - Stoic: If that’s what you want. Rook: I'll get it done. Varric: I never doubted it. [4]

4 - Scene continues.

Varric: Rook, when I put this team together, what did I look for? A detective to find the Dread Wolf and a scout to get us the lay of the land. Exactly the people he'd expect me to recruit. Disciplined. Predictable. And then there's you. Remember when we first met kid?

Origin dependent dialogue:

Crow [5]

Grey Warden [6]

Lord of Fortune [7]

Mourn Watch [8]

Shadow Dragon [9]

Veil Jumper [10]

5 - Crow Varric: I watched you pick apart an entire Antaam patrol in Treviso. They outnumbered you twenty-to-one. Rook: They were overconfident. I took advantage. Varric: Which no one else did. Crows didn't appreciate the heat it brought down, but…

6 - Grey Warden Varric: I watched you lead a few misfit recruits and push back one of the biggest darkspawn hordes I've ever seen. Rook: Just needed to find the right strategy. Varric: And no other Warden found it. You stopped that horde. Had to drop a town hall on it, but…

7 - Lord of Fortune Varric: That scheming noble locked us up inside that tomb. Tightest corner I've ever been in. But you kept your cool. Fought off the guardians. Discovered an escape route… Rook: And triggered a cave-in. Varric: A big one. Rivaini leaders lined up to yell at you for that, but…

8 - Mourn Watch Varric: You stopped an entire undead rebellion with less than a dozen Mourn Watchers. Rook: Just needed a bolder approach than Watchers usually take. Varric: And no one else knew it. Only you figured it out. Ticked off a bunch of snooty Nevarrans, but…

9 - Shadow Dragon Varric: You risked your neck to bring down an entire slavery ring. Pretty much by yourself. Rook: I had help. Varric: Sure. I got winded about five minutes in. You did most of the work. Ticked off a bunch of Minrathous big shots, but…

10 - Veil Jumper Varric: That first ill-fated Arlathan expedition. Not the recent one. Demons just kept coming for us. Dozens. Hundreds. But you didn't give up. You found a path out of that forest. Led us from the darkest depths back to safety. Lost that magic map. Pissed off some historians, but..

11 - Scene continues.

Varric: You've got a knack, kid.

Rook: For what?

Varric: Finding a way through the wildest shit I've ever seen. With a plan that no one expects. On the best day of his life, Solas wouldn't see you coming, Rook. And don't worry. I'll still be here to talk if you need me.

12 - Dialogue options:

Investigate: About Harding/Neve being hurt… [13]

Investigate: About Solas and the ritual… [14]

Investigate: About D’Meta’s Crossing… [15]

Talk to you later. [16]

13 - Investigate: About Harding/Neve being hurt… Rook: When I took over at the ritual site, I had to make a call on who came with me to knock over that statue. It was the first decision I made leading this team, and Harding/Neve got hurt because of it. Varric: You made a decision with the best information you had. Sometimes you do that, and people end up hurt. Or worse. Rook: What would you have done? Varric: What would I have done? Probably gotten myself killed and failed to stop the ritual if you hadn't stepped in. A good leader isn't someone who never makes mistakes: It's someone who admits when they make one. That's how you earn their trust. [Back to 12]

14 - Investigate: About Solas and the ritual… Rook: Did Neve tell you about me talking to Solas in the Fade? Varric: I had some good arguments with Chuckles back in the day. I can't imagine being stuck with him in my head. But how are you feeling about it?

Dialogue options:

We need his help. [17]

He’s an asshole. [18]

I’m worried. [19]

17 - We need his help. Rook: It doesn't matter how I feel about it. We can't stop the gods without what he knows. Varric: And there you go. You don't have to love him to deal with him. 18 - He’s an asshole. Rook: Your old friend is kind of an asshole, Varric. Varric: (Laughs) I'd love to be a fly on the wall while the two of you get into it. Solas fought a rebellion against Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain. He didn't want to be a god. But he's also a lot older and more powerful than any of us. He looks at us like we're toddlers. Rook: So how do I deal with him? Varric: Act like you're as smart as he is, and he'll be insufferable. Show him you respect his age and experience, and he'll remind you he's just a man. Honestly, pick whichever of those pisses you off less. 19 - I’m worried. Rook: He's the god of lies, and he's inside my head, Varric. How do you think I feel about that? Varric: Fair enough. But Neve's a great mage. If you need her to whip up a ward to keep him out of your mind, she can. But you haven't asked her to. Why not? Rook: But you haven't asked her to. Why not? Varric: Solas is our best source of information about these elven gods. We can't stop them without what he knows. So you're making the decision to keep talking with him. Rook: I… yeah. Varric: You're making a choice. Stay careful, stay worried, but don't beat yourself up about doing what you have to do. 20 - Scene continues. Rook: He also asked me to tell you that he regrets what happened. Hurting you, I mean. Varric: Chuckles is sentimental. He could burn the world down, and the thing that would make him cry is a single flower with blackened petals. [Back to 12]

15 - Investigate: About D’Meta’s Crossing… Rook: There is something… D'Meta's Crossing was awful. While we were there, we found one survivor—the mayor.

Freed the mayor Varric: You took him back to the Veil Jumpers.

Left the mayor Varric: You left him to fend for himself.

Sent the mayor to the Wardens Varric: You sent him to the Wardens, right?

Rook: Not everyone was happy about my decision… We're just starting out and I'm already losing their trust. Varric: The key to earning the team's trust isn't to only make decisions everyone agrees with. It's showing the team that they can tell you whatever's on their mind, even if they think you're full of crap, and know you'll listen.

16 - Talk to you later. Scene continues.

Rook: I'll let you get some rest.

Varric: You're gonna be fine, Rook. Hey, one last thing before you go. I've been racking my brain thinking of contacts who might help us with these gods.

Rook: You got any ideas?

Varric: Nothing. But being a leader isn't about having all the answers yourself: It's about knowing who does. Neve has connections to a whole world that Harding and I barely know. Might be worth talking to her.

Rook: Will do. Thanks, Varric.

Varric: Any time.

Next: Here for Leads