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k--havok · 3 months

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The Ghost & The Machine

An Adult Romance SFF Novel

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Summary: Cyberpunk | Beauty & The Beast Remix | 3rd Person Limited POV | First Draft | Novel

Specter isn't so sure who she is, or her past. All she knows is she works for the ruthless fence known as Ricco Maestro using her strange power to jump into people's brains to extract information clients have paid for her to get.

When Mr. Maestro gives her a job to extract information from the notorious Dragoon, a bounty hunter and assassin, Specter's world falls apart. Captured by the only person who somehow could pull her out of his head, Specter finds herself imprisoned by the enigmatic monster. Dragoon is a beast of metal and machinery; and no one knows who he is or what he looks like.

But Dragoon isn't what Specter expected. He's rough, full of fury, and materialistic. But also clever and filled with a longing that resonates with the same frequency as Specter's own yearnings.

Specter is still employed by Mr. Maestro. And she will do anything to complete her job. She cannot fail. But as she and Dragoon grow closer, and Dragoon shows her a whole new side to the city, her own relationship with her boss, and herself, questions begin to arise.

Why can't she remember her parents? Where did she grow up? Who is she, and where do her strange powers stem from?

As Specter and Dragoon search for answers, a new threat lurks in the shadows; one that wants Dragoon wiped away and forgotten. And they just may have the answers Specter is looking for.

As enemies close in on all sides, Specter must decide what is worth more; the truth or trust.

Themes

Finding out who you are, the nature of loneliness, the different faces of abuse and how it shapes us, mental illness, true power comes from within, found family, enemies to lovers, LGBT+ themes and characters, cyberpunk with magic, magic and technology, what makes a man and what makes a monster, Beauty and the Beast meets Shadowrun

Contains

Graphic depictions of violence. Graphic sex scenes. Graphic depictions of torture. Abuse and abusive relationships. On-page panic attacks and other symptoms of mental illness. Graphic depictions of illegal experimentation on sentient beings. Swearing.

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Main Characters

Specter

Specter is a half-elf in her late 20s who isn't so sure who or what she is. She has no real memories or sense of self. Before her fateful capture by Dragoon, she lived in an apartment paid for by her boss, Mr. Maestro, who also paid for her clothes, utilities, and food in exchange for her talents for espionage. With no family, no friends, and not much purpose, Specter put all her faith, trust and livelihood into her boss's claws.

Specter is not so sure where her powers of possession hail from, where she learned such power, or when it manifested either. There are large gaps of her memories missing. All she knows is she can easily possess anything; whether it be a person, animal, an object, or even the air itself. When possessing a person or animal, Specter can access their brain, picking through thoughts and memories as easily as flipping through folders in a filing cabinet. This makes her exceptionally good at pulling out information from others with minimum risk and maximum reward. Despite the dirty nature of her job, Specter is against harming or killing others, and does her best to minimize pain for her targets.

Despite her lackluster, almost boring, life, Specter does try to entertain herself. She is an animal lover and refuses to possess animals. She enjoys watching the birds and rodents scurrying around the city. Specter also enjoys yoga and music. She often hangs around joints with live music or sings to herself when at home. She likes trying new food and cooking meals for herself. Specter is an empathetic soul, but not exactly kind. She has a cheerful disposition most of the time, although is quiet, hard-working, and observant of her surroundings.

Specter is intersex. She has pale skin with brown hair and brown eyes. Her pupils contain cybernetics that record everything she sees. Half her head is shaved close to the scalp while the rest of her hair hangs short, curling around her jaw. She has a beauty mark on the left side of her lip and no other identifying markings. Specter tends to wear well-loved and practical street clothes consisting of plain shirts, leather jackets, leather boots, and hardy denim pants. Specter is about five foot seven, about 150 lbs, and has a broader chest and shoulders with a short torso and long legs.

Dragoon

Dragoon is a chimera, made of several different animals, and is in his 50s. Dragoon has both sides of man and monster and struggles with balancing them out. He works as a bounty hunter, but at times will take jobs to kill targets as well. He primarily works alone and is freelance. Dragoon is known to be expensive, but never fails a job, making him quite invaluable. Despite his volatile nature, he is also known to be simple to work with. He does not have much interest in idle gossip or the social network of criminals.

Dragoon lives inside a life-support suit made of complex nano technology which he built himself. Along with supporting his bodily functions, his suit is a deadly weapon in itself. Dragoon is a master of both blade and gun. He is also a self-taught engineer who creates his own illegal weaponry and hides it within his suit. His suit contains hundreds of different guns, blades, bombs, and a flamethrower hidden inside it. It also modifies his senses, making them sharper, as well as his strength, speed, and stamina.

Dragoon is a neurotic and independent individual. He has an active interest in engineering and the applied sciences. When not working, he is often found either buying and hoarding random things or working on his many cars, planes and helicopters. He also enjoys programming and assisting abandoned robots he finds, re-purposing them as companions of sorts to live with him. Dragoon is quick to anger, and struggles with techniques designed to calm him down, which includes meditation and martial arts. He does not trust easily and has a phobia of needles. He is socially awkward, which leads him to be quiet and avoid small-talk. He can be witty and is mildly blunt. He has a possessive nature in regards to both objects and people, making it difficult for him to distinguish between the two.

Dragoon is male and gender-apathetic. His real form is hidden within his suit. His suit is dragon-like in appearance and can change color based on his mood and surroundings. Usually it is a dark red with bronze and black trimmings. He has a noticeable gauntlet and pauldron on his left arm and shoulder. His helmet consists of a longer snout with horn-like protrusions from the crown of the helmet. Two horns curl forward and two curl beneath fin-like protrusions, similar to a ram's. Spikes line the bottom of the jaw. The jaw of the helmet can open and close and is lined with metal teeth and a whip-like tongue. His true face is hidden behind a one-way black visor. The back of the suit and his tail is lined with a double set of spikes. The spikes on his back can protrude further out to spear anyone who tries to grab him from behind. He has clawed hands and feet and does not wear clothes over his suit. Dragoon within his suit is roughly seven foot two and weighs nearly 400 lbs.

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Links

#The Ghost & The Machine | #tg&tm

#the ghost & the machine #tg&tm #writeblr #writeblr community #writers on tumblr #wip introduction #beauty and the beast retelling #cyberpunk #sff #sci fi fantasy #romance #monster romance #monster fucker #am writing #romantasy #wip #my wips #my writing

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weeklydrarryficrecs · 10 months

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The Arc of the Pendulum by brummell (actualite)

Summary:

After his father casts a mysterious curse on Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy is forced to try to make things right. Rating: Explicit Word Count: 30,189 Link to Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/716731/

My Thoughts: Oh oh oh what a lovely fic!!!!! Harry and Draco living and falling in love together felt so natural. I fell in love with their relationship as the story progressed, and the pacing created such a delicious (and sob-inducing) tension in the end. Beautiful!!!

Painting: A moonlit manor across the river by O. W. Marshall

#hpmd #drarry #drarry recs #post war #down and out draco #werewolf harry potter #living together #beauty and the beast retelling #2023 #week 25

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sahmei · 8 months

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Old Oc stuff for a beauty and the beast retelling concept

Click on image for higher quality!

#my art #my oc art #my ocs #original character #original characters #original art #my original characters #concept art #visual development #beauty and the beast #beauty and the beast retelling #oc #ocs #artists on tumblr #illustration #character design

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folkoreluvr · 3 months

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My princely beast | chapter one

Summary: Loki and thanos have almost successfully taken over the planet and have dispensed of the earths mightiest hero’s. In the action however, Loki brings Tony’s daughter to his grand estate in the countryside, addled with guilt for his actions as he begins to break free from Thanos’ mind control.

Pairing: Loki x stark!oc

Warnings: darkish!loki, mind control, captive?, blood, violence, gore, smut

A/n: after re-reading ACOTAR and watching beauty and the beast this little scenario popped right into my head and after days of day dreaming I decided I had to write it.

I stare out of the fogged up window of my bedroom in this strange estate, I suppose I should be more relived I haven’t been thrown into some sort of dungeon or cell. Then again, my captor decided to throw my father to the cells and keep me so maybe I should be more worried. I have spent three days here and am yet to come across my captor, I’d have hope he doesn’t live here if not for the group of servants potting around the place, each with a hanging fear over their heads.

I turn around at the sound of a knocking at my door. Helga, a maid, comes in and places a plate of cookies on the desk in my new cell.

“You should eat something.” She tells me, not a suggestion but more of a command. I shake my head, pulling my soft hand away from the cool window, wiping the wet condensation on my night gown. I have been left such strange clothes, some clearly modern but most what I can only assume is Asgardian. I haven’t worn any of them, only kept onto a silk nightgown that drops to the floor in a soft pink hue and my black crew neck with the words “stark industries” printed on its front in bold white words. I see now that’s it’s probably all that’s left of my family, my legacy. The great Starks, reduced to nothing at the hands of a cruel god. “He hasn’t poisoned it.” Helga stars again with a roll of her eyes. “He’s not been here to poison it and I doubt he would bother himself with such trivial matters if you seem intent on starving yourself anyway.” I grab for the pale cream cookie with anxiousness, watching Helgas face as I eat. I try my best to keep an ounce of dignity, but I haven’t eaten in nearly three days.

“Why am I here?” I ask as I finish the cookie, desperate to grab another and scoff that one but I’ll wait until she goes. Helga surveys me as I sit on the bed, my body pulled as far into itself as possible, hands clenched into fists. Fear. Im completely petrified of why he kept me and what he plans to do to me.

“I do not know.” She tells me, a bow in her head showing her honesty. Maybe that’s worse, if his intentions aren’t clear to his servants then maybe I should try and leave, run as fast as I can and hope to find someone out here in the depths of the countryside. “You are free to leave.” Helga tells me, as if she has read to mind. “He has said that much.” I only stare at her in confusion. He must be a terrible captor if I am free to leave. Helga leaves me at that and the second the door clicks closed I grab for the plate and groan at the taste of sweet sugar.

Afterwards, I look down at myself and see the dirt clinging to my nightgown and the messy nature of my hair and decide to shower, after all it’s very unlikely anything could happen to me in there. I walk into the vast bathroom, it’s an odd mix of old time decor and the newest technology. I fiddle with the knobs until I have it running smoothly and hot and turn around to lock the door. I pull off the jumper and fold it on the shelf but the nighgown I accept is a lost cause. When the hot water begins to cascade down my throat I all but groan, savouring the feeling of warmth and comfort. The shower is fully stocked with an array of luxurious products. I grab at the soap and scrub my body red and raw, desperately trying to remove the dirt from me but it clings to me. I slide down the soaked wall of the shower and sit on the floor, bringing my knees to my chest and for the first time in three days, since I lost everything, I cry. The pattering of hard water on stone drowns out the sound of my choked out sobs, as I heave and heave, searching for breath. After a few minutes I stand back up on shaking legs and scrub at my brown locks. I pull myself away from the warmth of the water and wrap towel around myself.

I step out of the bathroom to find the sheets of my, his bed have been changed and the plate of crumbs removed. Tugging the cotton towel closer, I survey the large chest of drawers, the top is filled with underwear, a lot from my own drawers back home and some of it new. Thick cotton socks are shoved into the corner and corset like bras are lined up in a multitude of colours. I pull out one of these corsets and a pair of my own underwear and toss them on the bed. The next draw is stacked full of nightgowns - again a mix of mine and new ones. The third draw is full of soft cotton shirts and leggings, along with thick knitted jumpers. The fourth draw is the most interesting however, I pull out stacks of thick leather, noting a deep cut vest that laces at the front and black trousers, ones that would no doubt cling to me like second skin. I shove the clothes back in the drawer and wander over to the dark oak wardrobe. All the furniture looks old, worn but the appliances, such as the large tv, new. It was as if the house had been left here abandoned and my captor had claimed it, that was easily possible.

I run my hands along the soft fabrics as I chose a dress. I land on a more earthly dress in a faded green colour and toss it to the bed too. Lined up at the bottom of the wardrobe is an assortment of shoes, red bottomed stilettos, country boots, leather boots that matched the other leather apparel my captor had left for me and an array of slip on shoes. I chose black ones with a small heel and dress myself. The dress falls to my ankles, billowing lightly around me, it cuts diagonally at my shoulders, showing my collarbone. The back laces up and I wrestle with the fabric as I tug them tight, allowing the dress to cling to the curves of my body. I slip on the shoes and sneak at my door, worried I’ll find someone outside it.

I pull open the heavy wood and find an unbreathing corridor. I keep my hands clenched into fists as I walk slowly down the hallway, my head anxiously darting from left to right like the god will attack me from the shadows. I turn at the end of the hallway and find the stairs to the foyer. I scale down them anxiously, watching the door with heavy breaths. I don’t see anyone else around the house, no cooks or cleaners but the house is in perfect condition and there is no way Helga could do it all herself. Magic most likely, dark dangerous magic belonging to a darker and much more dangerous man. I reach the bottom of the stairs and contemplate going for the door and running but I have no clue where I am, no coat or food and no weapon to defend myself. That’s what I should do, find something to defend myself with. I wander the hallways in search of a kitchen, hoping to steal a cutting knife, better than nothing. I find the kitchen at last but nearly grown as I find Helga in there, preparing a large chicken with numerous spices, I see bubbling pots on the stove full of vegetables and a tray of bread rolls waiting to be cooked. It can’t all be for me. Dread settles over me as I realise he’s coming to the house, to my prison. Helga looks up at me and says nothing, going back to her cooking, the knives are on the other side of the kitchen and if she is distracted she probably won’t notice me grabbing one for the rack. Attempting to be nonchalant, I walk around the kitchen Island and towards my weapons but before I can wrap my sweating palm around a blade Helga interrupts me.

“He keeps his weapons in the armoury, it’s in the right wing, the doors down and to your right.” I don’t turn around, or move or make a noise. I can’t help but question why she would tell me such things, what motive she might have. “There’s a chest full of throwing knives and daggers, ones with sheaths.” She tells me, not looking up from the potato she is currently peeling. “You’ll cut yourself on that knife if you keep it at your chest, the smartest place to keep a knife.” Trusting Helga seems stupid but she seems to have lied about nothing else and there is nothing malicious in her tone. I retreat from the kitchen without a word and stalk down the corridors, I takes me nearly an hour to find the armoury in the maze of a house and true to her word it is full of weapons. I find a chest and prop it open, fishing out a dagger, its handle is gold and carved with runes that match the ones on the leather sheath. A large emerald stone is placed at the hilt and I turn it over in my hands, feeling the heavy weight of the metal - most likely Asgardian. I shove it down my chest and stand up. He might he furious at me for taking from him, he might even kill me but I do not care, I do not have much to live for anymore.

With the dagger safely at my chest, I retreat and head back to my room but I stop when I hear voices coming from the kitchen, I hide around the corner, recognising the quick tone of Helga and the dark growl of my captor.

“She left her room?” He asks, Helga responds in a simple yes as she chops, the sound of the knife clattering though the room. “And what did she do?” He asks her. I still, the colour draining from my face, limbs shaking.

“Came in here in search of a knife.” Helga drones, entirely uninterested. I wait in heavy silence for a negative reaction from my captor but receive none, only an interested hum. “I told her she’d have better luck in the armoury and she left, almost likely to grab a better blade.” My captor muses himself with a huff of his breath and sighs. “Interesting…” he says. “Do relay my message to her.” He asks and then he’s stalking out of the room and I press myself as far into the wall as I can go. I thank whatever good is out there and he turns and storms down the hallway, not even noticing me.

Hours later, Helga stands at my doorway again. I put down a copy of “little women” I found on one of the shelves in the room and look up at her, wondering if it has anything to do with my captor and his conversation with her.

“The prince has invited you to dine with him.” Helga tells me, no emotion in her voice. My dark eyebrows furrow in confusion at his ‘invitation’. “He wishes to disgust a deal.” She informs me, I still remain frozen upon the bed. “If I were you I’d listen to what he has to say and if things were to go awry then… run like hell.” She tells me and then she is gone, shouting down the hall to be ready for eight. I glance at the clock and see it is in an hour.

After twenty minutes of consideration, I decide I will go. I keep on the dress I’m already wearing and ignore the makeup laid out for me on the vanity unit. My hair has now dried and I decided to plait it on a wreath around my head, keeping it up and out of my face, a practical hairstyle in case things go awry.

#loki x oc #loki fanfic #loki #smut #loki smut #dark!loki #Beauty and the beast retelling #dark fic #loki laufeyson #loki odinson

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devilinlittlehope · 8 months

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aesthetics for the new fanfic I’ve been dreaming up 🏰⚔️🌙🩸

I’ve been totally obsessed with resident evil and chris redfield in particular so I’m planning on writing the medieval fantasy/beauty and the beast/court of thorns and roses resident evil fic of my dreams! the reader is married to the evil king wesker but betrays him when she goes to castle redfield and falls for his rival! oh and chris is definitely a werewolf 🤭

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intothewestwing · 3 months

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my cosworth redesign | i made all the servants human-sized in my rewrite

#beauty and the beast #beautyandthebeast fanfic #beauty and the beast retelling #beautyandthebeast #cogsworth #cogsworth art

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greyennui · 7 months

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Chapter 15 of Anger is but Passion Borne of Love has been posted!

Read Anger is but Passion Borne of Love on AO3.

Chapters: 15/20 Fandom: Super Mario & Related Fandoms Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Bowser/Luigi (Nintendo), Mario/Princess Peach (Nintendo)

A Regency-period retelling of Beauty and the Beast, featuring Luigi and Human!Bowser.

#bowuigi #bowser/luigi #bowser x luigi #crack treated seriously #bowuigi fic #regency au #beauty and the beast retelling #Anger is but Passion Borne of Love

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theboarsbride · 7 months

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THE BONES WE HAUNT - WIP Intro.

Title: The Bones We Haunt.

Genre: Historical Fiction, Gothic horror, romance, novella.

Status: First Draft + development.

Synopsis:

November, 1905.

While on holiday in Cambridge and attending museum lectures with her mother, Jane Sterling seeks to make this her chance to officially pursue her love of paleontology. While her family encourages the pursuit of passions and challenging rigid social norms, the institutes in place hinder her passion, making her resort to dressing brightly and speaking loudly for attention.

Jane's chance comes to reveal itself in the form of the wealthy and reclusive Sir Terence Hayes, who’s come in search for her father, the esteemed paleobotonist Dr. Samson Sterling, to appraise fossils found in his garden. Her mother eagerly volunteers Jane to go in Dr. Sterling’s place as he remains ill in America, and Terence brings her to his isolated family's estate in the vast, deep, muddy marshes of Wolf’s Run. And the land is shrouded in urban legends. There are whispers of 'The Wolf's Run Beast,' the 'Monster of the Marshes,' that haunts the land under the cover of night, and as Terence leaves Jane to her work he is hell-bent that she's to return to Cambridge before nightfall.

However, freak storms rage, causing the marshes' waters to rise and wash out the roads in flash floods before Jane has a chance to return, leaving her stranded at Wolf’s Run - and at the mercy of all that lurks there.

As night looms, the staff hastily depart, an eerie silence falls, Terence forbids her from even coming near the cellar, and, most importantly, he warns her against leaving her room before dawn. All is merely a strange act to Jane, brushing it off as the eccentricities of an Englishman, until something comes scratching at her door, hungering for her blood.

What started as a mere chance at becoming known swiftly becomes a tumultuous game of blood, teeth, survival, love, and salvation - and Jane must prepare to sharpen teeth of her own if she's to survive the horrors of the Wolf's Run marshes.

Spotify Playlist

surprise surprise, another WIP inspired by Jojo's need to turn every DILF she falls in love with into a love interest in a monster romance-adjacent book! 🥰 This one's victim??? Ciaran Hinds as a brooding but sweet capital 'r' Romantic were-beast/werewolf-ish creature. 😍 The vibes for this WIP are, like... 90s gothic period drama.... bluebeard meets 'mexican gothic' meets company of the wolves meets 'the death of jane lawrence'... and i've only known this WIP for 3 days and I'm already obsessed, help-

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