#wolfhound of hell

[valhallasoutlaw]

I'll let yall know when we get a store up and running, but this graphic will be the first item up! Art by me

[avocadoraisin]

I LOVE THE ANIMAL REQUESTS THE ART IS SO SUBLIME

If you could have picked another animal for Strahm what would it have been???

Im also totally wolfhound!Strahm-pilled

[souryam]

you'll have to drag the snape dog lover hc out of my cold dead hands in my head he has one of those bad boys. irish wolfhounds (pun intended) one of the biggest dogs out there. somehow lives in his quarters and nobody knows he's there

[daskibum]

Groot is getting too old to blast through deep snow. Tessa made 2 passes through 24 inches and was done. After a few more feet fell, neither dog will leave a broken path.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

dilf jason, my love, my light, my life

fuck whatever bruce did to you and everyone else that didnt care enough to reach out

Jason booted up the little bank of computers and watched the lights in the house. Frowning when you didn't click out the bedroom light. You should go to bed. It was Just Dick. It would be-

"You know he was just... scared right?" Dick said, watching Jason work out of the corner of his eye. Looking at the couple wallet-sized school pictures and a wedding picture tucked into the corner of a bulletin board. Reminding him, Dick guessed of what he was protecting.

"And I figured it was time to retire. You know. Before I was too broken and decrepit to enjoy it," Jason said shrugging.

"Jay-"

Dick froze, glancing between Jason and the door and swallowed hard when you pushed the reinforced shed door open. "In here, baby," he confirmed.

"Does she know?" Dick hissed.

"Enough," Jason shrugged, pulling out a stool for you. Happy that you'd grabbed a shawl at least before coming outside in booty shorts and a tank top. "Where's Boris?"

"Guarding the stairs," you answer. "He'll come get me if the kids need something."

"Boris?" Dick asked, "Which one is that?"

"The wolfhound," you answer shortly before looking at Jason. "What can I do?"

"In the drawer by your knee there's a communicator," Jason said, "Pull it out for me. Then maybe make some coffee? I don't know how long this'll take."

You nod and grab the device out of the drawer before kissing his cheek, "Snacks too?"

"You're an angel," he hummed. You were his wife. This was Your house where you were raising your kids before he was ever even a thought. He couldn't tell you to stay away. But- if coffee and some snacks would keep you occupied a little longer, he'd ask for it. Especially if it meant keeping you away from his old life.

"Mhmm," you huff, eyes narrowing.

Jason half smiled and rubbed his nose against yours, "My angel."

"I don't appreciate the sweet-talking, Todd," you tell him, melting anyway. You know he wants you out of the way. But hell if you really want to go.

Dick coughed, "I don't mean to be rude but-"

"So don't," you tell him. Fixing him in your patented 'act right or catch a left' look.

"This could be a little time-sensitive," Dick said putting his hands up in surrender.

You look back to your husband and sigh, "And our wedding wasn't?"

"To be fair," Jason chuckled, helping you off the stool, "I didn't invite them. Bruce can be a kill joy."

"Still," you huff as you adjust your shawl, and hop off the stool"with his penchant for plucky orphans you'd think he'd wanted to have meet his new grandkids."

[stangalina]

Jaskier has found a very effective method of diffusing tense situations involving Geralt and the various dimwitted and judgemental humans they're forced to interact with.

Unfortunately, enacting this method has about a fifteen percent chance of earning him a knee to the sternum afterwards.

Though it is usually worth the risk, since this method works one hundred percent of the time.

The method is thus:

Sit on him.

It works like a charm.

Allow me to elaborate.

It's very difficult to be scared of someone, no matter how intimidating their features or bone-chilling their stare, when they just sit still and do not question a fully grown man flopping down onto their lap. It does wonders for a tense prejudiced atmosphere inside a tavern. Given, the mood only changes from tense to confused. But confused isn't planning to stone them both out of town so he'd consider it a win.

Getting to sit on Geralt's leather clad and very impressive thighs is also a win in of itself, obviously. The knee to the gut only comes if he pushes his luck or gets too handsy.

Different variants of this method also work. Such as wrapping himself around Geralt's abdomen like a stray piece of seaweed so the merchant will stop looking like he's about to piss himself and actually catch his breath long enough to sell them something.

Murmurs of Witchers being infested with infectious diseases can be silenced by Jaskier grasping Geralt's chin while talking to him in a show of feigned annoyance. Perhaps a gentle touch to the cheek if he's feeling tender, or a light tap on the nose to be playful.

Depending on how Geralt is feeling, he will either ignore Jaskier, or play along. It doesn't matter which one he chooses, as the method still works either way.

It's the people equivalent of putting a collar on a wolfhound and having its lead be held in the mouth of a perfectly groomed poodle wearing boots and a waistcoat. No less dangerous. But a hell of a lot less intimidating.

And if Jaskier is secretly using this method as an excuse to get Geralt more comfortable with physical contact for totally innocent reasons, then that's nobody's business but his own.

[ashes-writing-corner]

Welp I said I was gonna update before going to work so here it is! Hope you guys like it ^^

Taglist: @exactlyelegantwizard, @xenoanamorph, @hoeia-strigoi, @arwenkenobi48, and @xanth420

Exile: A Nosferatu Fanfic

Chapter 2

I think I've seen this film before, and I didn't like the ending…

The halls were all too familiar to him. He knew this place still like he knew the backs of his hands. The castle, the prison, he grew up in, lived in, and was imprisoned in. Whether imprisoned by duty, or by that wretched curse, it was a prison. Of course, Orlok knew he only had himself to blame. He had done this all to himself. His usage of dark magic, his deal which, in hindsight, was doomed to fail from the start.

Întristare, another one of his wolfhounds, followed him out to the dining room. Always staying at his side. Fitting, considering her name. Durere was most likely patrolling the grounds, though there was no serious danger here. But he couldn't explain that to his canines. He doubted they were even truly aware of the situation…

This new world was so alike to the one he knew before. The world of the living, but it seemed to be in a state of eternal winter. A place built of memories, mostly painful ones, it wasn’t quite hell. Honestly Orlok was expecting to go to that place of fire and brimstone, he’d been ready for it for centuries. Death was better than a state in between, having to live off the lifeblood of others to maintain his own. Immortality wasn’t worth it. He knew if he had a chance to go back and undo it, he would’ve.

So many regrets…too many. And for what? What was left when one lost everything that mattered? What was left after…

Orlok stopped his thoughts right there. No. No. He would not dare speak her name again. Or dare to think of her ever again. He didn’t deserve the momentary, fleeting comfort the thoughts of her brought, the memories of better days long, long since passed. Days of warmth, days of comfort…

He didn’t deserve them. Didn’t deserve to remember them. For him, submersion into the waters of chaos would not have been a relief but a punishment. If anyone deserved to be forgotten, it was Orlok himself. And he damn well knew it.

But just like in life, the vampire couldn’t bring himself to let go. He clung to whatever shred of life he still had like a man drowning. And yet, he took no comfort in it. He never had. Regret had been fast coming, and now it was mostly all he could feel.

“Perhaps I should’ve called one of you Căinţà” his long fingered hand pet the head of Întristare, “I would’ve had all of those…emotions made flesh following me. Truly following me”.

He thought he had a chance to gain a semblance of that ever elusive humanity back. He laid in unrest for centuries in the dark, his spirit wandering restlessly, seeking something to rise again for. And he found it…well…to be more accurate, it had found him. He and Ellen had met spiritually, like two souls at a crossroads, standing opposite of one another, going in different directions. He could’ve ignored her. He probably should have now that he thought about it. But Orlok…couldn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to ignore her. Her voice was like a sad little spirit reaching out to him through the darkness, through time and distance it seemed. Unfortunately, he still had an appreciation for beauty, and her nature had reminded him so much of her…Orlok didn’t dare think to ignore her call at the time.

And like an obedient dog, he answered. Taking control, he made the pact with Ellen. She would be his and his alone, ever eternally. Orlok thought that perhaps through this sweet soul, he could gain back a little humanity he so desperately craved. He needed to feel…something. Anything! Anything other than anger, sorrow, and grief! It was maddening.

But a pure being like her couldn’t love a monster like him for all that he was. A vampire’s love was...dark, frightening to most. Dominating. Suffocating by human standards. But he was there. He was there for her whenever she called, faithfully. Be it in dreams or in that strange crossroads realm. He was there for her. He listened, learned all he could about her, but kept his secrets his own. There was an attachment, but Orlok could not dare bring himself to call it love.

Love was for humans. For the living. Not for monsters like him, or pure beings like her. Love was Inferior to them, as he told Ellen. At least inferior to her, but Orlok? No…he didn’t deserve it. Lust was easy though. Lust was better to feel, drowning out the pain and regret that plagued him.

But not the anger. The anger was the most regrettable part of all of it. His fury had taken over him, and he had taken it out on Ellen eventually. The first time he lashed out, the first time he got a taste of that power over her, Orlok was addicted. Finally he had control over something, someone. He had effectively taken his pain, his regret, his sorrow, turned it into anger, and inflicted it on someone else.

Inflicted it on Ellen.

The vampire closed his eyes hard, his clawed hands balling into fists. It wasn’t an excuse. There was none. He harmed her, he liked hurting her. He got away with it. And Ellen had been helpless to fight back, her own power practically ineffective against him and his. He became cruel, became more selfish and possessive. There was still a tiny part of him that hated it, hated himself.

So Orlok pulled away. It wasn’t easy, but he did for a time. And during that time, Ellen met Thomas. When he felt she found someone else, it sparked that rage, that possessive fury once more. Like a wildfire, it burned through him. How dare this boy, this…insignificant mortal, try and take what was his? Why did HE get to enjoy what Orlok himself was long since denied?

Even now, his clawed hands balled into fists at the audacity. Thomas was a fool, stepping into matters which he knew nothing of. Nor was he ever supposed to know. Useless little mouse of a man…

The wolfhound whined softly, pressing her head against his balled fist as if asking for pets. Her master willingly gave, letting himself just feel the softness of her fur against his cold hand. They were good hounds, all three of them. He definitely should’ve named them better, now that he was thinking about it.

“There has to be a better way than this. Some way we can…learn to just exist around each other until Chaos calls for us” Orlok thought aloud.

He was still figuring out what this world was. There were rules, ones they both had to abide by, but it was figuring them all out that was proving to be a problem. The biggest one was the one she exploited: A private space couldn’t be entered without the owner’s permission. Orlok still had his powers, but didn’t seem to have the vampiric tendencies anymore. He didn’t need to feed, and the day no longer affected him. He felt almost human again, back to just being what he was before a vampire: a sorcerer and nothing more. Every room seemed to hold a piece of them both, something important from both of their lives.

Currently, there were lilacs on the table. Lilacs were important to them both, but this was something important to Ellen. Orlok glared at them, realizing what they were: Her wedding bouquet from when she married Thomas. The bouquet was there, dead set in the middle of the table as if to mock and taunt him. Orlok growled, feeling that possessive anger drive him again. He raised a hand and the bouquet burst into flames, making Întristare bark and snarl in surprise. The count watched the flowers burn to ash, glaring the whole time. The fire eventually died, leaving nothing but the scent of burned flowers.

Orlok watched. Waited. Dared…

Only to be a mix of angry and disappointed as the bouquet brought itself back to life, the ashes reverting back to their original arrangement. The Count raked his claws down the table in fury, swearing in Dacian. He hated this arrangement, absolutely despised it. It was like the very realm itself was taunting him at this point, not just the memory of Thomas. Lilacs were fine; they were his and Ellen’s flowers, but dammit why did he have to suffer these in particular?!

At the same time though, he realized something interesting. Looking at the table, his claw marks stayed as they were. Orlok realized he discovered another rule: They could not destroy each other’s memories, but they could destroy or damage their own. Interesting…he wondered if they could destroy them together…

“That’d be…cathartic. In a maddening sort of way” Orlok thought aloud.

The idea of going around and breaking everything, letting all that pent up anger out…it was tempting to say the least. No doubt Ellen had a lot of pent up anger herself, and to see all of that unleashed? The thought alone made him shudder in the most delightful way. Plus the prospect of angry sex afterwards was…enticing.

The count growled and pinched the bridge of his nose. Now was not the time for that, definitely not the time. He needed to focus, and focus on something that wasn’t enticing right now.

“That woman is going to be the third death of me, I swear…” he sighed in annoyance.

She was already his second death, so of course Ellen would, unknowingly, go for a third. Orlok glanced up again at the bouquet of lilacs, and glared. At the very least he could burn them over and over again for some quick anger management.

But honestly, how long would that last? Honestly, he wondered, how long any of this would last before disaster, once again struck?

It always did.

Eventually…

If you guys enjoyed please comment, like, and reblog! Also if you wanna be added to the taglist let me know ^^ your support means the world to me! Thank you so much! 💜🖤💜

[zorlok-if]

The vibes of my current test Zorloks:

Butch Badass Zorlok (she/xe): Is an older, butch lesbian with gray starting to streak through her dark mullet. Xe wears a cowboy hat, boots with spurs, and a bandana tied like a kerchief. She will kick your ass. Xyr Hellhound is a massive wolfhound named Cerberus. Goes by the name Crowley and walks dogs/watches houses to make ends meet. Calls pretty ladies "darling" and everyone else "son".

Bisexual Menace Zorlok (he/him): Young trans man who plays up being sarcastic and tough to cover up the fact that he's terrified and lonely. Introduces himself to people as Rafael Night, a guitarist who exudes confidence and sexuality and will seduce everyone he can just for the hell of it. His Hellhound is a leucistic snake name Ouro.

Ethereal Enby Zorlok (they/them): A chill being that seems detached from reality. Fascinated by everything, particularly mundane things. Loves learning about the modern world but does not blend in. Dislikes using power or violence but can and will wipe you from this plane of existence if necessary. Goes by Z and nannies a kid named Kevin during the day. Their Hellhound is Huginn, a crow.

Kind Professor Zorlok (he/him): A really nice older man who passes as human very well (cause that's all he wants to be). His Hellhound is a cat named Grimalkin who is always at his feet or perched on his broad shoulders. Hates using violence and demonic power but loves doing magical and supernatural research. Becomes a beloved local tutor under the name of Dr. Jonathan Gray. Rose calls him Jon.

Chaos Incarnate Zorlok (she/her): Some of her favorite things are violence, power, and corruption. Sadistic and petty. Plays up an impulsive and juvenile persona to cover up how calculating and patient she can really be. Her Hellhound is a goat named Baphomet. Calls herself Zorlok and the only human she truly cares about is Tommy who she will turn into the most wicked, cruel version of himself.

All picrews used:

Everyone

Crowley

Rafael

Z

Jonathan

Zorlok

[estelle-ghoulette]

*Ridley stood in the doorway, a wide look in his eyes. His hair was tangled and had leaves and twigs, his shirt was a bit torn and he had what looked to be a bite mark on his arm, thankfully not deep. Fucking hell he wasn't even wearing shoes. Even with all this, he looked excited.*

Found that hellhound dad summoned when he was a teen!

*Sure enough, behind Ridley was a giant ass dog that looked like a slightly taller Irish wolfhound, the fur smokey black while blue flames seemed to glow from the undercoat around the ribcage, the torn part of Ridley's shirt in it's maw.*

(Like Ridley is like 6'1" and this dog's shoulders are at his chest. TALL dog)

@ridley-emeritus

Ridley what? What is- A hellhound?! I've not seen one in so long it's adorable!

*She rushes up and over to the two, the hellhound only coming to her chest and she decides to sort his clothes soon*

Does it have a name?

(I AM SO SORRY I SEEN THIS A COUPLE DAY BACK(?) AND I JUST REMEMBERED I HADNT REPLIED)

[sea-owl]

(Anthony storms into Kate's study.)

Anthony (furious): Where the hell is he?!

Kate (spooked): Who?

Anthony (pointing at Newton, who is casually laying on his bed beside Kate's desk): You!!!

Kate (confused): What?

Anthony: You never believe what that bloody dog did!

Kate: What did he do? Did he bury one of your shoes outside again?

Anthony: No!

Kate (more confused): Then what did Newton do that make you so extremely upset?

Anthony: Well my dearest wife, I has received words from my brother Colin that your demon dog from hell decided that it would be a splendid idea to start a family of his own by having Penelope's dog Artemis carry his puppies. Unchaperone!

Kate (shocked): What?!

Anthony: And now we are the grandparents of your bastard son's children!

Kate (sighing deeply): He's becoming just like you Anthony...

Anthony (groaning): Now I have to get the marriage license again, first Daphne and now this!

Newton: 😁

Anthony (frustrated): It's bad enough that your dog has been running around unchaperoned and gotten Penelope's dog pregnant!

Kate (trying to remain calm): Surely it's not that big of a deal. Dogs will be dogs, after all. I'm sure the puppies will be adorable.

Anthony (throwing his hands up): Adorable?! This is a scandalous! Our family's reputation is at stake.

Kate (furrowing her brow): I fail to see how a few tiny puppies will ruin our family's good name.

Anthony (pacing): Don't you understand? First I have to deal the incident with Daphne and Simon, and now this!

Kate (sighing): Anthony, you worry too much. Newton is a good dog, even if he does have a bit of a... wild streak. And as for the puppies, I'm sure we can find good homes for them.

Anthony (exasperated): Find good homes?! That's the least of our concerns. I have to go speak with my brother Colin immediately and sort this whole mess out while you and Penelope plan the wedding together.

Anthony storms out of the room, leaving Kate to shake her head at his dramatics.

Kate (to herself): Sometimes I wonder how I ever ended up with that man.

Not Newton taking after his daddy. Newton, please, your daddy has ptsd when it comes to special licenses.

Putting aside potential health issues the puppies might have, I am curious about what they look like. Because for those who don't know these who be there parents.

Of course we all know baby daddy Newton

But here's a potential pic of mama Artemis

Irish Wolfhounds also come in red, but I can't find a reliable picture. I do kinda wanna go with the red coat to stick to the Featherington women's hair color. And this would be Artemis and Newton next to one another.

Poor Anthony and Colin are gonna have their hands full.

Lmao, what if Kate and Penelope were pregnant around the same time, too? Colin would definitely think Artemis somehow planned this. Anthony's stress levels are through the roof because not only is he about to he a dad again, but he's also about to be a grandpa! He's not ready to be a grandpa! Colin is even less ready to be a grandpa! Not to mention having two pregnant ladies he needs to take care of.

But also, this would be kinda cute. There be like a Bridgerton reunion for Newton, Artemis, and their puppies, all the puppies got some of their mama's height and are all taller than their dad.

[ki-pulse]

ok i know all these two do is try to kill each other and walk in on each other bathing but fuck it right its sunday. -- @hawksblooded

‘Heated Hot Springs’

send "heated hot springs" to catch the muse bathing nude in a hot spring

    Okay, it's been nice, but it's time to move on. There's only so long he can ignore the droplets of demon blood still floating on the otherwise pristine water surface. Just like they did their job clearing out the monsters nesting at the foot of the mountain, the spring did its job soothing sore muscles and small wounds.

    Except...problem. William's weapons and armor are where he left them. Where the hell is his--

    He hears doggish panting.

    There, behind a bush. Somehow he knows Mara knows what she's doing is unacceptable (to him, at least). She sought cover to do something irresistible to her canine nose.

    She has his underwear and is rolling around on her back atop it.

    Bitch, Adams thinks, lunging out of the pool. The wolfhound has the decency to right herself as he approaches, tongue lolling out of her grinning mouth. The damage has been done. Clumsy patches are torn open and the threadbare cloth is coated with dirt and dog hair. Utterly ruined.

    Someone snickers.

    William reaches for a sword that isn't there and slaps himself on the hip instead. Alizebeth leans against a nearby tree, arms folded, watching him. He can make out a smirk beneath her hood.

    BITCH, Adams thinks.

[camlannpod]

first of all: I am having a blast with Camlann, it's been a while since I've excitedly awaited the new episodes of an audio drama! Thank you for putting this amazing story out in the world :) I have Very Important Burning Questions after the main character descriptions - 1) what type of dog/breed is Gelert? 2) is Gwaine a snapback guy? 3) are there any sort of headcanons floating around regarding Kay's appearance (ngl, I heard him speak and I was immidiately like. yeah. this checks out. annoying little shit :) ) bonus question: has there been any concious choice made for the spelling of the names? as someone who has studied the mabinogi and had to translate sections pwyll and branwen (and voluntarily had a go at Yr Afallenau Myrddin), I have noticed my brain tends to default to certain spellings, so I was wondering if there is a reason for the spellings you've chosen?

Hello hello hello!!!! Thank you so much for the kind words this is lovely of you!!!!

Regarding your questions:

Gelert is an Irish Wolfhound! Big grey boi

Hmmm, snapback might be slightly too American for him. Gwaine is quite proudly Scottish. He was living in Bristol though, so he's definitely a fashionable sunglasses guy.

Hahaha yep! Honestly with Kay the defining feature is Forgettable. Like, I'm kind of joking and I'm kind of not. He's someone who easily blends into crowds and who people tend to pass over and underestimate. He was a scrum-half on the rugby team, so he's definitely wiry. But he's not bulky, and I always imagine everything about him being a bit washed out. I also imagine him as shorter than Arthur and Gwaine.

Kind of! Also hell YES fellow medieval Welsh person!! So broadly speaking when it comes to the character's modern names I wanted very modernised, easy to pronounce names. This is partly a practical issue - the actors have to say the names a lot, and not all of them speak Welsh. But it's also about the fact that Camlann is very much a story that rejects the premise that there is a 'pure' or 'true' version of any story, or the idea that you need the oldest or most accurate name to really connect with it. So with Gwaine - Gavin, Owen, Owain etc could work just as well as Gawain. It's also sometimes a character choice - for example Dai very specifically wanted to keep using a Welsh name when he moved to England. Dai is easy for English speakers to say, but still distinctively Welsh, so it was the compromise he settled for. And then sometimes it's kind of a backstory thing - Gwen's Dad Kai taught Western Literature at a university in Hong Kong. He was a single dad, and Gwen was his only child, so they're very close. Gwen's mother gave her her Chinese name, Shújūn, but left when she was a baby. So, (unusually), Gwen and her Dad chose her English name together when she was a teenager. But because Kai taught broadly Western Literature, he was working with English Arthuriana rather than Welsh, hence Guinevere/Gwen instead of, for example, Gwenhwyfar.

Thank you so much for the questions, andf for listening to the show!!! It's always exciting to get a chance to ramble about it.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Immortal Beloved - Chapter Nine.

A warm, heartfelt thank you to my readers for your continued engagement :)

Previous chapters - Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 4,140

Warnings - 18+ only. Adult themes + vampire content throughout. Minors DNI!

“And so, I says to this fella, I says, right, listen here, mate! Any more out of you and you’ll be shitting your bloody teeth for a week, and you’ll never believe what he says to me, John. I tell ya now, you’ll never believe it, son. He stands there, right, fag dangling from his mouth, and he says to me...” 

John didn’t give a damn what the fellow in question had said as they stood guarding the front gates of Bryn’s home, gladly watching the sun beginning to sink in the sky. From the first moment, he’d asked Tommy never to pair him with Mickey Two Suits, begged him, in fact, and what had his brother done?  

…"so, there we are, right, having a scrap about it and then suddenly, this fucking umbrella comes flying out of nowhere! And it’s only the fella’s old dear, ain’t it, giving him a clobbering and dragging him home by his ear! I says to our Wilf, I says ‘eh, look at that! Thinks he’s hard enough to have a go at a Blinder and it’s his mom who has to run in and save his arse!’ What a night, John. Ya should have been there!” 

“Mickey...” 

“...and we went had a good ole’ knees up after, we did. Drank the Red Lion right out of whiskey that night, and you ain’t heard the best part yet, pal!” 

“Mickey, will...” 

“So, the landlord has this great, big Irish Wolfhound, right, and this group of lads are...” 

“Two Suits! Holy fucking shit, will you shut up!” John’s exasperated tones matched his wide eyes, shaking his head. “Christ you don’t half yammer on, mate!” 

Mickey pinked at the cheeks a little to have been – although lightly – admonished by one of his bosses, muttering his apologies and lighting a cigarette. He lasted all of twenty seconds. 

“So, we off for a few Christmas Eve drinks up the pub once your lady wakes up? Christmas Eve at The Garrison, ain’t nothing like it, is there? Do you remember that one year when... bloody hell!” 

This time, though, Mickey’s no doubt lengthy spiel was interrupted by a sight that made John’s heart flutter, Bryn suddenly appearing before them. “No, Mickey. John and I are to depart for Warwickshire, to a party hosted by Tommy and the lovely Grace.”  

John had wondered how well Grace would take to Bryn, but after introducing them for the first time just three days before, he’d found the women had a very natural chemistry with one another. He was also pleased – for Tommy more than himself – that it had encouraged Polly to warm towards his soon-to-be sister-in-law a little more as well, since he and Grace were to be married in the New Year.  

His aunt was not quick to warm to any women who came into the lives of her beloved nephews, especially not if she had good reason not to trust them, just as she’d had with both Grace and Bryn. For the latter, though, it had melted as soon as she’d seen something of herself within his ancient vampire lover, a woman who’d had her children torn from her, a woman whose pain she understood all too well.  

Leaving Mickey to trudge down to the bus stop and travel back to Small Heath, John and Bryn went inside, the former pouring himself a whiskey while Bryn readied herself for the evening. She was affixing tiny little pearl adorned pins into her hair when he ventured into the bedroom, kissing her bare shoulder as she sat at her vanity.  

“I thought you lot weren’t meant have a reflection.” 

Him and that flipping novel he’d taken it upon himself to read. She rolled her eyes, turning to press her lips to his cheek. “Not everything Bram Stoker claims about us is true, you know.” Picking up her perfume, she spritzed herself liberally, the scent misting over her pale skin. “Although I must confess, being able to turn myself into a bat would be useful. If for nothing else than to retreat from awkward social situations.” 

“Yeah,” he hummed, swirling the amber contents of his glass, “don’t think I’d fancy you half as much as a flying rodent. Maybe a bit still, like, but not as much as usual.”  

Her look of incredulity had him tipping his head back, his laughter filling the room. “You are disgusting, John Shelby!” 

“Still laughing though, ain’t ya!” Indeed, she was. His uncouthness, lack of filter and penchant for being completely inappropriate never ceased to entertain her. Truly, she had never met anybody like her darling John. She shook her head, picking up her kohl pencil and beginning to smoke her eyes sultry black. A little mascara and a twist of rouge to her cheeks and she was finished, speedily packing the rest of what she needed for their stay at Arrow House and whizzing down to the car to place her cases in, John going to ready Katie.  

The child had been spending more time with him at Bryn’s since school had finished for Christmas, being cared for during the day by Bettie until Bryn awoke and spent time with her before bed. It had warmed his heart hugely to witness their bond forming, Katie furnishing the Christmas tree with her help, overhearing the bedtime stories his love would recite to her, the old Norse sagas his daughter loved to hear. Katie’s bedtime upon their arrival at Tommy’s house was no different. 

“The crow went flying toward the North, croaking as she flew, “Let Hela keep what she holds. Let Hela keep what she holds.” That crow was the hag Thaukt transformed, and the hag Thaukt was Loki. 

“He flew to the north and came into the wastes of Jötunheim. As a crow he lived there, hiding himself from the wrath of the Gods. He told the giants that the time had come for them to build the ship Naglfar, the ship that was to be built out of the nails of dead men, and that was to sail to Asgard on the day of Ragnarök with the giant Hrymer steering it...” 

Standing in silent watch through the crack in the door, John smiled widely as Bryn recited a fairytale about Loki, Norse god of mischief to his spellbound daughter, the covers pulled up to her chin, Bryn’s hands gesturing as she spoke of the tale. At her core, she was such a natural mother, something within her so strongly maternal. The thought had never crossed his mind back when he’d first begun his courtship with her, but truly, she was everything Katie needed. 

She was everything he needed, too.  

“Now that’s a look of love if ever I saw one.” 

At hearing Polly’s whisper, he turned, grin still fixed firmly in place as his cheeks coloured a little bit at being caught staring so adoringly at the scene. “She’s only known her just under three weeks and she dotes on that little girl as if she were her own.” Walking away from the bedroom, he pulled a cigarette out, lighting up. “Ain’t what you thought she was, is she?”  

Polly lifted her chin, her eyes narrowing a fraction. “I don’t like to concede, but you’re right. She isn’t. Brynhild has surprised me with her nature. I never forget what she is, but I’m getting to know that what she is isn’t all she is.” Reaching for his face, she stroked his cheek, laying a pecked kiss upon the other. “I’m pleased for you, love. You look very happy.”  

He smiled again, his handsome features lighting up the dim glow coming from the bedroom. “I am, Pol. Might not have been long, but I am.”  

“Come on.” Opening her arm, she draped it around his shoulders, steering him down the corridor in the direction of the stairs. “Let’s go get drunk and eat too much food, have a good ole’ knees up.”  

Walking down into the throng of people milling around the welcome hall, the mix of guests were mostly business, both legitimate and not so, family and friends, servers carrying trays of drinks and food, the laughter and chatter filling the spruce-scented air. John was just reaching for a whiskey when he felt a cool hand slip into his, Bryn arriving with him, taking a champagne flute from a passing member of the wait staff.  

“How does it feel?” 

“How does what feel, my darling?” she asked, pressing herself close to him as he released her hand, wrapping an arm around her instead. 

“To be the most beautiful woman in the room?”  

She sipped her champagne, eyeing him with a twinkle there in the hypnotic blue of her irises. “Oh, you presume yourself to be so very charming!” 

His smirk widened. “Are you charmed?” 

“I am,” she hummed. 

“Then I’m fucking charming.” He kissed her head, his arm tightening around her. “Tell me about what underwear you’ve got on under that dress.” 

“You know my thoughts towards underwear, my love,” she purred, kissing his cheek as they moved through the guests. “I don’t like anything that gets in the way of your mouth.”  

A bolt shot through him, John closing his eyes for a moment. Opening them, he pulled himself back from the haze of lust to be greeted by an oncoming business associate, fellow bookmaker Kenneth Thompson.  

“John! Good evening to you and your fine lady, here! How are you keeping?”  

While he and her love got into conversation about the next race meets of the New Year, Bryn found herself beckoned over by Grace and Polly, gliding over through the throng of guests. It was as a young server passed her by that she caught the faintest whiff of it, a smell her nose never failed to detect. Her eyes snapped to the back of the redheaded girl’s neatly pinned tresses, watching her move from guest to guest.  

“You’re on alert,” Polly noted when she arrived with them, seeing how Bryn suddenly appeared much less casual in demeanour. “What is it?” Although not knowing her for long, she’d familiarised herself with how the vampire carried herself, the minute changes within her normally quite stoic disposition. Polly Gray well understood when it paid to be observant.  

“That girl,” Bryn began, pointing with her champagne flute. “Grace, how new is she within your employment? Also, is she local?” 

“Very new,” she confirmed, her eyes following the cold, hard stare of her vampire friend’s eyes. “Everybody is, though. With us only officially moving in recently, the staff were hired just over a week ago. As for where she’s from, Tyneside according to her references. Why do you ask?”  

“Thought I recognised her locally. I must be mistaken.” she lied, giving Polly a look that she read instantly. Tommy hadn’t filled in Grace over everything regarding Bryn, other than to obviously keep what she was well under her hat. Initially, she hadn’t believed him at all, laughing away under the impression that he was having her on upon their first meet. When Bryn had proved it by popping her fangs, she’d almost fallen out of her chair. 

With Grace called away to continue playing gracious hostess, Polly moved Bryn into the corner of the room away from earshot of the other partygoers. “Tell me what’s wrong.” 

“That girl,” she began, her eyes flitting away to follow her before they snapped back to Polly. “She does not bathe often, for not only do I detect a fine scent of body odour, but I also smell Rasmussen on her. It is faint, but present.”  

“You’re fucking joking me,” she hissed, eyes scanning the room. “I’ll get John and Tommy, let’s get this sorted.” 

Immediately, Bryn gripped her arm. “No, no, Polly. We need not involve the men just yet. Let me watch her. Act as you normally would, begin to laugh at everything I’m saying.” 

Polly’s faux, yet believable chuckle filled the air, Bryn affixing a huge smile to her face before launching into a real story, all the while watching the girl as she flitted from guest to guest. For all intents and purposes, they were having a wonderful Christmas Eve, with no suspicions over any infiltration to their circle.  

Every so often, the serving girl’s eyes would find Bryn, studying her in confirmation of this, the vampire feeling her entire being hum on high alert. As soon as she exited the welcome hall, Bryn moved to follow her, ducking speedily into the shadows as she stalked her, the girl looking as if she was heading back down to the kitchen.  

There was a pantry just to the side of the grand kitchen, a designated space where the butler would keep track of the household provisions at a small desk and put in the orders at the grocery, baker and butcher on a twice-weekly basis, Bryn remaining concealed from sight as the girl quietly made her way inside. She was just about to enter after her when John and Polly appeared.  

“Oi, don’t you look at me like that, Brynhild,” Polly whispered sternly, noting the displeasure she was viewed with. “Wasn’t me who said anything.”  

“She’s right, love” John spoke, touching a hand to her shoulder. “It was me who felt it.” 

Of course, he would. John Shelby had so much of her blood travelling through his veins at that point, he might as well have called himself Brynhild Mark Two. Holding a finger to her lips, Bryn listened, hearing the serving girl make her request to the telephone exchange. Rasmussen.  

Bingo.  

“Mr Rasmussen, I hope I am not disturbing you.”  

Before John or Polly knew it, Bryn was gone from before them, the butler’s pantry door flung open, both striding in to find the telephone cable pulled from the socket and a snarling Bryn pressing the girl down onto the desk by her throat.  

“How much did he pay you to infiltrate?” she growled, her fangs bared, the girl shaking in fright as she found herself at the very wrong end of a powerful vampire’s temper.  

“I-I d-d-don't know w-what you...” 

“Oh, bloody spare us!” Polly exclaimed, closing the door behind them. “You can’t fool a nose like hers. She smelled them on you.”  

“B-but I-I...” 

Bryn’s gripped tightened. “I said, how much, child?”  

“T-ten p-pounds.” 

A lot of money for a girl who she estimated likely earned less than a third of that a week. “I will pay you treble that to call him back right now and tell him that I am not among the Shelby family. For I know that is why you are here. As my friend just stated, I can smell them on you.” She shook her head, her nose crinkling. “Poor, unfortunate girl. Perhaps if you bathed more often, you might have been successful.”  

Nodding through her shakes, she felt on the verge of wetting her knickers in fear, watching the vampire as she looked to her companions. “Darling, plug the telephone back in.”  

John nodded, eyeing the girl with distaste, Bryn going into her small clutch bag and pulling out three ten-pound notes. “Here. I will pay you this to deliver the message. That is all you have to do. Do you understand?”  

“I-I do.” 

Bryn beamed, but her smile carried not a trace of warmth to it. “Good.”  

With the phone reconnected, the girl tucked her money into her neat little apron, taking the receiver and once again requesting the correct name to the exchange.  

“Helen, we were cut off before. Now, what do you have for us, pet?” Edward asked upon answering, the girl not able to drag her eyes away from Bryn, shaking with fright at the faint sound of her rumbling warning growl.  

“I’m afraid I have nothing.” She swallowed hard, taking a deep breath. “The woman you described is not within the guests. Just about everybody else notable is, but not any women with dark hair and a tattooed throat and chest, I’m afraid, sir.”  

“Stick around, she mightn't have arrived yet. Like we said, it might be another. Sounds daft, love, but look out for people who are paler than usual, and who don’t eat or drink with quite the same gusto as others do, like.” 

“Shall do, sir. I will report back tomorrow evening.” With that, the call ended, Helen finding herself on the receiving end of three very angry looking people. Well, only two were people. “What do I tell him tomorrow?” 

“As long as it doesn’t involve anything to do with vampires being around the family, tell him whatever the fuck you like,” John spoke, moving to impose himself before her, reaching into his pocket to pull out his knife. “And if you do fucking breathe a word about her to anyone, we will find out, and bab, you don’t want to know what I’ll fucking do to ya. We clear?” 

With a cold blade pressed against her cheek and the even colder glare of a vampire upon her, Helen nodded. “I shan’t say anything. I’ll just tell him there wasn’t any here. I promise, just please don’t hurt me.”  

Returning the knife to his pocket, he patted her cheek with his hand. “Good girl. Now, go up and pack your bags. Now.” 

“No.” Halting her with a splayed hand to her chest, Bryn stood in her path, shaking her head as she looked to John. “We must ensure she makes that call, John. If she doesn’t, then they will deduce that I am here and have dealt with her.” 

She was right. “What do you plan on doing to her?” 

Bryn pondered his statement for all of five seconds. “Fetch me some rope. We tie her to a chair in here and tell no one to enter. Then we come down here again at sundown tomorrow, let her make her call and escort her from the premises.” 

“And what the fuck are we meant to tell the serving staff, why they can’t come in here all of a sudden?” he asked, perplexed.  

Shaking her head in bafflement, a frown of light incredulity creased her forehead. “Darling, you run both legitimate and cooked books for a living; you’re better at mathematics than most of the fucking Arabs who created it. You’re also a goddamned Shelby, lying is in your nature. Do not tell me such mental calculus is beyond you.” Her eyebrows continued to rise, gesticulating wildly with her free hand. “Bloody make something up!”  

Polly couldn’t keep the smile from her face at how Bryn had both managed to praise and admonish him at the exact same time, especially watching John not know whether to be annoyed or enamoured by the crisply delivered statement from his lady. 

“I ain’t sure if I want to fuck you or slap you right now.”  

“I’ll let you do both later,” she winked, nodding towards the door. “Rope. Now.” As soon as he left the pantry, Polly was in soft fits.  

“Oh, my giddy aunt!” she snorted, lighting herself a cigarette while Bryn pushed a still terrified, but complacent Helen down into the wooden chair behind the desk. “Seeing you run circles around my bloody nephew like that is the only Christmas present I’ll need this year.”  

Bryn smirked, taking Helen’s hand and popping her fangs, forcing the young woman’s finger to her mouth and piercing the tip upon the point of one of those long, sharp teeth. Helen winced, Bryn licking the drop of blood that swelled forth. “There is my insurance, should stupidity and luck be on your side and mean you somehow escape. I will be able to find my way to you instantly.” 

With the way John bound her legs and arms to the chair upon his return, though, Bryn sorely doubted that Helen would be going anywhere, but took the phone with them just in case. “Please tell me that one day you shall delight my senses by tying me to the bed like that.”  

He paused upon the staircase, raising an eyebrow. “You could get out of it in about half a second, though.” 

“I could,” she purred, leaning close to flick her tongue against his earlobe, giving it a little nibble. “I wouldn’t attempt to, though.” 

“You,” he began, waving a finger at her, “you need to pack it in, you do. We’ve got to go fill Tommy in over all of this and you’ve bloody gone and gotten me at half-mast as it fucking is.” He nodded downwards, Bryn seeing the outline of his cock beginning to tent his trousers, chuckling as she grinned.  

“Well, my, my.” Leaning close, she kissed him, her lips all fiery honey upon his. “It looks like something is looking up this evening after all.”  

Carrying on up the stairs, she left him standing there waiting to deflate again, shaking his head as he muttered. “Bloody insufferable temptress.”  

“I heard that.” 

“You were fucking meant to, bab!” he shouted, making the server passing him jump, John placing a reassuring hand to his shoulder as he grinned widely, the man continuing his trajectory. “God, I love that woman.” 

As she stepped back into the throng of the party, Bryn heard that, too. She would never tire of it either, slipping her hand into his when he joined her after a few moments, fully calmed in the trouser department as they walked over to where Polly waited for them, opening the door to Tommy’s office.  

“Grace specifically told me no business tonight, so whatever this is, make it quick,” he spoke, taking a seat behind his desk, looking up to see Arthur enter the room, neatly closing the door behind him and shutting out the noise from the party.  

“Do not worry, Tommy. I have every intention of being perfectly concise so we may resume this wonderful evening you and Grace have put together for us,” Bryn began, Tommy nodding in acknowledgement of her praise, his eyes fixing upon her. “A spy sent by Edward Rasmussen infiltrated your serving staff. It was only because the dirty girl does not bathe quite as often as one should that I managed to smell their scent upon her, knew she had been close to them. 

“She was sent here to look for me specifically. I apprehended her with John and Polly prior to her delivering news to Edward himself, intercepted the phone call she was shortly to make, forcing her to tell him all was clear. He expects her to call in again tomorrow to confirm that no vampire fitting my image, or any other for that matter arrived here at Arrow House.” 

Arthur leaned around Polly, nodding to her. “You alright though, love? She ain’t burned you with no silver or nothing, has she?” 

Bryn was touched by his concern. “I am fine, dear Arthur. Trust and believe if she had of attempted to wound me, your brother would have likely acted swiftly.” 

“Wouldn’t fucking half have,” John muttered, pulling a cigar from his pocket and lighting up.  

Tommy digested her words, drawing idly upon his cigarette. “Which serving girl was it?” 

“Helen.” 

“And where is Helen now?” 

“Tied up in the butler’s pantry.” 

He rose to his feet. “Good enough, Brynhild.” Walking around the desk, he placed a hand to John’s shoulder as he passed. “Fits into our world just nicely does your lady, John boy. We’ll deal with this tomorrow.” Opening his door, he gestured through the space, the noise of the merriment filling the air as his family filed back out. Bryn was the last to leave, Tommy halting her with a soft hand to her forearm.  

“I’ll leave it to your discretion, whether Helen actually leaves the grounds or not tomorrow,” he whispered, his stare so strong Bryn felt it boring into the back of her skull. “Either way, though, she is to be gone and kept quiet.” 

Bryn would not have survived for as long as she had, should she not have known well how to read between the lines. Smiling, she leaned to kiss Tommy’s cheek, gliding from the room to take another glass of champagne and slide in at her love’s side once more, the head of the family watching her as he closed the heavy office door behind him.  

In offering his protection to Bryn, he saw well how the alliance benefitted him from her being close to them. Literally being able to smell the faint trace of an enemy upon a person was a skill he wished he possessed, but did not need to now that he had the most powerful vampire in England close with his family.  

Tommy Shelby knew a valuable asset when he saw one. The fact that she made his younger brother the happiest looking man in the room didn’t hurt either.  

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

I have a little request. Idk if it could be a lil one off or maybe mini series or just ignore it lol

But maybe Jason decided to retire and he’s just living his best lil domestic life with his partner when Dick or someone breaks into their house in the middle of the night and has a full “Dad’s on a hunting trip and hasn’t come home in a few days”

The house was dark. Quiet. And it was Jason's favorite time of day. You were procrastinating going to bed with old episodes of Maury playing. Your head on his stomach.

And he was debating just carrying you to bed. Like he would one of the kids when they fell asleep where they dropped. But. Honestly- he was invested. He wanted to know if the baby daddy was the crusty old redneck or his slightly less crusty son.

And that's when all hell broke loose. The door bell rang and the dogs started barking. "Huh-"

"Stay here," Jason said, shifting you over. And wishing for the hundredth time there was a better place to keep guns handy. But- Kaylie's skateboard would have to do. Especially since Lee kept taking the baseball bat he tried to keep by the door.

"Move," He hissed at the dogs, hucking the yorkie mix into the closet and nudging the aging wolfhound and the Boxer mix out of the way- what they thought they would do Jason had no Idea. The boxer mix would lick them to death and the Wolfhound, well. He'd try but frankly he'd probably keel over. And the Yorkie would just get stomped on.

He peered through the peephole only to see Dick standing on the porch, hands in his pockets. And he exhaled. Even if he didn't relax.

He still unlocked the door, "It's one in the morning-"

"B went on a trip and no one's been able to get a hold of him," Dick said, pushing his way inside. "Have you heard anything?"

"Jay? What's going on?"

"Baby, it's fine," he said, turning from glaring at his brother who was trying to fend off the affections of the Boxer and trying not to agitate the now irritated wolfhound. "Take- take these demons and go check on the kids?"

"But what's-"

"I'll explain everything in a minute," he said kissing your cheek before snatching the yorkie back out of the closet and shoving her into your arms, Knowing you'll put her in with Kylie. And that the Boxer will settle down with Lee. And your beloved Wolfhound will happily take his spot on the bed.

"Kids and dogs, huh?" Dick asked watching you go.

"They were here before I was," Jason said shrugging. Not bothering to mention the one on the way. The less Dick knew the better. He was retired. Bruce told him to leave and he did. Bruce disowned him and he found a new family. "But no. I haven't heard from Bruce. Or anyone."

[hoe4fiction]

One Piece x Black Butler crossover (?)

A/N: I have not written on tumblr in ages and thought it was time to start again. This is inspired by this weird dream I had recently; I just really needed to write it down. I have been trying to catch up on One Piece - just finished Water 7 and Enies Lobby- and I also fucking love Black Butler, so I suppose that is what triggered this fever dream. It's 2nd pers POV and total trash but wtv. English is not my first language.

Tags: all platonic, fluff, angst (there's a natural disaster happening in the background), OC ig?

Buckle up it's gonna be confusing as hell.

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Years away in a distant future or just a fucked up different dimension, in a skyscraper-filled city, you're chillin on the couch in your apartment at the very top of a huge building. It's a beautiful morning, the sun is shining and people go about their day unbothered. You're relaxing on the couch watching your favourite show, your mom is cooking some chicken in the open space kitchen, your dad's working on his laptop at the dining table and your younger sister is probably texting her friends. At your feet lays a beautiful black cat, Salem, he's napping comfortably, while your other cat Shaggy - an orange tabby looking like he just got struck by lightning - is trying and failing miserably to distract your mom so he could steal some cut-up chicken. Cuddling into you is Oscar, a grey Irish wolfhound who thinks he's still small enough to climb into your lap.

Suddenly, an emergency broadcast takes over the TV. A reporter in a grey suit is standing in front of a map of the city. "To all citizens, we have gotten reports of a massive influx of water coming from the nearby islands. Powerful waves the size of skyscrapers and huge floods are expected to hit the city this afternoon. We advise all citizens to evacuate immediately to the station port. Stay safe!"

Hurriedly, you get the cats in their carrier, get Oscar's leash and start packing. Just throwing whatever clothes you think you'll need in a suitcase, stuffing another one with books and mangas and taking a small backpack with snacks. With your family, you make your way outside to the rooftop where a car on a rollercoaster track awaits you. After many twists and turns through the city, finally arriving at the station, you meet with your best friend. They're alone, only their adorable golden retriever by their side. As a train station employee takes all your bags, you notice you're suddenly also alone with only your pets. People are embarking on the sea train, an old late Victorian-looking model that can also travel on water. How that is possible, you do not question it.

As you get on, your friend notices that you have next-door compartments. They offer to take the cats and enter their cabin. As you make your way to yours, you notice that Oscar is getting excited, like he can sense someone familiar inside the 6-seater cabin. He looks adorable tippy tapping in front of the door, his tail wagging happily. Smiling, you take off his leash and open the compartment door. Was it your family your dog was so happy to see? Nope. Inside the compartment, opposite each other next to the window, there sits on your left, Sebastian in his usual butler fit and on your right Ciel Phantomhive in a dark blue suit (you know the one). Oscar rushes in and basically throws himself at Sebastian, excitedly slobbering his face in saliva. Sebastian looks distraught and gently tries to get the dog to settle down. Ciel just seems bored out of his mind. You greet them and get Oscar out of the demon's face. He just turns around and tries to nuzzle his little nose into Ciel's legs begging for pats. Begrudgingly, Ciel accepts his fate. You put away your backpack and settle next to Sebastian, while casually having a conversation with the duo. Something about how things have been lately, about Ciel's business, and whatever crazy cases they have had since you last saw them. By now, Oscar has settled down at Ciel's legs and is napping peacefully.

There is a knock on the door and it opens to a giggly Undertaker in a long coat and his silly-looking hat. He's carrying a small leather bag. After greeting each other, he sits down on Ciel's side next to the door and takes off his hat. Sebastian jokes about him potentially packing zombies again. There's another giggle from Undertaker.

In the next-door compartment, your friend is in quite a predicament. They're sitting at the window minding their own business just crocheting some blanket. In front of them, Nami is trying to enjoy a good book while Luffy snacks and rambles on about some weird bug he found earlier. Zoro is sitting next to his captain napping and Sanji is trying to flirt with your friend. It's actually quite pathetic really cuz you're friend is not even listening, they have earphones in. Poor boy.

--time-skip--

Back in your compartment, Ciel has laid down on the bench trying to get some sleep, Sebastian is staring out the window, while you and Undertaker chat and braid each other's hair.

In your friend's compartment, Luffy has finally fallen asleep, and Nami is still trying to enjoy her book. Your friend is also asleep. Shaggy (the orange cat) is lazying about inside their carrier. Salem is discreetly trying to get the cage door open.

--another time-skip--

Rain started pouring outside. The train is steadily approaching the port where it's gonna switch to travelling on water for the last half of the journey. You have fallen asleep, head in Sebastian's lap as he is absentmindedly playing with your hair (very out of character of him lol). The Undertaker moved back to his spot and is hunched over with his head on the wall next to the door snoozing away.

The train rattles for a second. As a result, Sanji accidentally kicks Zoro awake and they start fighting. Salem has managed to get out of the cage and has made his way out of the compartment without being noticed (smart af cat). He climbs next to you and just threateningly stares at Sebastian. The cat's eyes get this weird glint for a second, Sebastian's eyes shining red in retaliation. Then the cat just casually nuzzles next to your head.

Shouting from the other cabin wakes you up. There's a loud crash in the hall and Salem slips away and climbs on Undertaker's lap to continue their nap. The door opens to a red-faced Sanji and a disgruntled Zoro. "Nami kicked us out..." Sanji introduces himself and Zoro to the butler and sits down next to you. Zoro grumbles annoyed and goes to enter the cabin but gets stuck in the doorway because of his swords. After fumbling about for like a good minute, he eventually sits across from you in between a now sleeping sitting-up Ciel and a cat-cuddling Undertaker. He mumbles something and goes back to his nap. Sanji curses him softly in French and then moves his attention to you and the others. He pulls out his cigarette and lighter. "Oh, I'm sorry. Is it ok if I smoke here?" Sebastian goes to answer but you beat him to it. "No actually. Sorry. The kid's got asthma." Sanji nods and puts away his cigarette. Casual conversation ensues.

--time-skip--

Officially having begun travelling on the ocean, everyone decides to stretch their legs a bit and move to the dining car for some lunch. The storm has picked up outside. Everyone sits at this huge booth next to the window, Luffy stuffing his face as usual, Zoro and Nami sharing a drink and the Black Butler trio sipping some tea. It's quite a weird scene. Seeing 2 people dressed in normal everyday clothes, 4 pirates and 3 Victorian gentlemen. Despite the weirdness, you seem to be enjoying yourself. Outside, in the distance, you spot the Sunny sailing in the same direction.

Out of nowhere, there is a loud boom. The car rocks violently and lights start flickering. Everything goes black...

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And that's when I woke up...

This was probably one of the weirdest but also most vivid of my dreams as of late. If you got through to the end, thank you for reading this nonsensical wild ride. Who knows, maybe this whole thing will get me to start actually writing again.

Stay safe out there!

[ashes-writing-corner]

And we are back, literally on time for Nosferatu to come out! Yall gifmakers are gifts from the gods I swear! Thank you for all you do! And to those who read my story and enjoy it, yall are gifts too and I love all of you ^^

Taglist: @exactlyelegantwizard, @xenoanamorph, @hoeia-strigoi, @arwenkenobi48, @xanth420, @serpentdeath, and @landlockedmermaid77

If you want to be added to the taglist please let me know ^^

On to chapter 3!

Exile: A Nosferatu Fanfic

Chapter 3

You're not my homeland anymore. So what am I defending now?

Ellen was at a loss. She honestly had no idea what to do. How could this have happened? How could she have been so blind? Ever eternally…and the Beast had seriously meant it. Even in death they couldn't be parted. There had to be a way…something…anything. This was not how she wanted to spend her eternal rest, lying next to the monster who made her life a living hell.

Not just her life. Thomas’ too for the brief time he knew of the situation. Her beloved Thomas…she couldn’t help but wonder about him now. Where was he? Was he even alive? Ellen didn’t take him for the sort to take his own life, and she would be devastated if that were the case. He had been her everything after the Beast abandoned her initially.

Oh yes, he left her. He left her alone when she needed him most. Left her with nothing but trauma and a severely scarred soul and a heart to match. It had hurt, even if Ellen wouldn’t admit it aloud. She didn’t understand why he had pulled away so harshly, so suddenly. But he stopped answering her, stopped visiting her, leaving her with this numbing sadness. She had waited, and waited, weeks turning to months, before she met Thomas.

He had been one of the few suitors her father had found for her. He wasn’t rich, nor did he have a well known name, but Thomas was hard working, honest, and decent. All were qualities her dear papa had liked and respected about him. Despite her oddities, he was so kind to her, so warm, courteous, and gentle. A better suitor couldn’t be asked for. So no surprise they courted and finally Thomas asked her to marry him, which Ellen was quick to accept.

With her acceptance, she thought that was the end of it. The Demon was gone, she was happy, and had all she wanted. Ellen didn’t need wealth or a nice house or material things. She just wanted a peaceful, happy life with her sweetheart. That was all.

But of course, the dead can never stay dead for long…

Furie whined softly next to her on the bed, his ears flattened as if sensing her emotions. For a hound literally named Rage, he seemed to have very little of it. The wolfhound had literally stayed by her side for the past two days, keeping watch over her for his master. The Beast hadn’t come back, just as Ellen commanded, and it made her wonder: Was he bound still by her power? Did she still hold some sort of sway over him, even in death?

Ellen had tried to be kind in a sense. She had to kill him, there was no doubt in her mind about that. He needed to die. But she had tried to be kind as it happened, for the sake of what they once were to each other. That was only fair wasn’t it? Ellen had tried to give him one last kiss, one last small gesture of love before they were both gone. It was only meant to be kind, as a way to let go of what once was.

She gently pet Furie. “It’s okay. I’m alright. I promise. I just…have a lot on my mind”.

The wolfhound looked at her, his ears perked as if he were listening intently. Ellen chuckled, her first laugh since her death.

“I don’t know if you’d be able to understand. But…I don’t really have anyone else to talk to I suppose-”.

Furie whined, as if attempting to remind her there was someone she could talk to. Ellen shook her head.

“Trust me, I would rather much talk to you more than him. At least you don’t try to tell me I did the right thing for the wrong reason” Ellen paused, “I don’t understand. I don’t understand any of this. I know what the covenant said but I thought with death it would be done. I could be free. But I’m not and I don’t know why”.

She knew why. It said Ever Eternally…but she didn’t understand why that meant even after death. Ellen got up and looked out the window, peering out the expansive, glistening surroundings. For a second she thought she heard a voice, a soft collective of voices, on the wind calling her name somewhere in the distance. It sounded like the whispers of every person she ever knew: Thomas, Papa, Freidrich and Anna and their children, even the Demon’s voice could be heard among them. Ellen felt her mind go blank a moment, her eyes going a strange milky white color as though she had died again. Furie rose from the bed and growled, followed by a sharp bark, pulling Ellen back to herself.

She took a deep breath and blinked several times to recollect herself. Ellen turned to the dog, calming herself a little as he came to her side and whined, nuzzling her hand. She pet him, breathing deeply as her mind and spirit settled back into her body. What in the world was that, that strange call?

Ellen kept a hand on Furie’s head. “Good boy. Thank you…thank you so much. I think I might’ve been in a little bit of trouble had I somehow answered that”.

Furie whined, wagging his tail at her praise. He had sensed something was amiss and had been quick to pull his mistress back from what he thought was something that could and would seriously harm her. He was entrusted with her safety after all, and the wolfhound clearly took that job to heart.

“It’s always snowing here” Ellen looked outside again thoughtfully, “How about we go outside and do something fun?”

The wolfhound cocked his head curiously and Ellen smiled as she got up to change. She wasn’t sure if she really needed to dress warmly in this world, but she figured it was better to be safe than sorry. The wardrobe was shockingly full of clothes she remembered wearing in the other world…and there were others in there she had never seen. Older dresses, some furs that looked like they hadn’t been touched in ages. These weren’t hers. But yet, somehow, they felt familiar. The texture, the smell hiding beneath years of unuse…she knew these older articles of clothing somewhere. Again, it was like a memory from a dream she had a long time ago…

“Let go” she heard a voice sound in her head, one that was eerily similar to her own, but not quite hers, “Please…you have to let go…for me…”

In her mind’s eye, Ellen could see the image of a woman with a face like hers, but her hair was a shining copper color, and her eyes a deep blue tinged with green. She looked pale, deathly so, laying in bed looking at her dead in the eye. Her pale blue-purple lips trembled as she reached a quivering hand out to her.

“Please…love…I’m afraid…”

Ellen dropped the fur coat immediately, frightened by the dream. It was like looking at her own pale, dying face in a mirror. Only the reflection had spoken to her. She set the coat back in the wardrobe and grabbed one of her own warmer outfits for her outside activities, which Ellen wasn’t even sure if she wanted to do anymore.

No, no, she did want to. She needed to get out of this castle, out of this room, even for a short while. Even if it was to do something silly and childish with a large wolfhound at her side. Ellen redressed herself and motioned for Furie to follow her, something akin to excitement blooming in her chest. She hadn’t done this particular activity since she was little and she always loved doing it.

She made her way outside, surprisingly avoiding the Demon. Ellen glanced around, rendered breathless by the glistening snow around her. It was as though the grounds of the castle were being purified under a blanket of white. Ellen stepped out, the soft snow giving out a satisfying crunch under her booted feet. Furie followed behind her, his tail wagging in excitement. He liked being outside, but liked it even more with her it seemed.

Ellen found a nice, clear spot to begin her work. She made a ball, small enough to fit in her gloved hand and slowly started to roll it around to increase its size. Her troubles seemed far away as she worked, her mind drifting to happier times. Furie moved the ball too with his head and Ellen laughed.

“Trying to help me now?” She asked and gave him a pet, “such a good, sweet boy. I don't get why he called you Furie. You're anything but” Ellen stopped in her work to give the wolfhound pets along his chin and chest. All the while his tail kept wagging in delight.

“You are the sweetest thing I swear” she put her nose to his and giggled, feeling very much like a little girl again.

Ellen turned back to her task, and Furie joined her in pushing the ball around. Little did they know, the third hound, Durere, had spotted them outside and ran back in to tell his sister and master about it.

He let out several barks to Orlok, as if trying to articulate what he saw. The vampire glared.

“She's outside?” He got up and glanced out a nearby window.

Lo and behold, there was his Little Soul, rolling a large ball of snow around with Furie, before finally settling it somewhere. What in the world was she doing out there? Chaos still called for her, and she was still susceptible to its call. It wasn't safe to be out there alone. Orlok turned from the window, grabbing his enormous coat to go out and keep an eye on her…

“I think we can start on the body now, hm Furie?” Ellen asked, to which the wolfhound barked and wagged his tail.

She turned to start a new ball, this one to be slightly smaller than the other, when Ellen felt her blood run cold. An all too familiar shadow fell over her, and she knew it was the Beast. She sighed and stopped rolling the ball as Furie barked a greeting to his master. Ellen stood, facing him fully for the first time since they found themselves here to see him petting all three wolfhounds.

“You’ve named him poorly” she dared to say, “There’s not an ounce of rage in him”.

“Because you haven’t seen him angry…yet” Orlok replied, looking over at the large ball of snow, “What is it you’re doing, Micul Suflet?”.

Ellen stifled the urge to glare at the nickname. “I would appreciate it if you used my name…And what does it look like I’m doing? I’m making a…a snowman”.

He raised a brow. “A what?”

“A snowman. Have you never…” she stopped when he just looked contemplative, as if the concept of such a winter activity was foreign to him, “You’ve never made one before, have you?”

“Such things were considered a waste of time back in my youth. I spent the winters studying, learning and preparing for my role” He told her, almost avoiding her eyes.

“You never even got to do such things? Just…do childish things like this?”.

Ellen didn’t need an answer. His silence and avoidance were more than enough of an answer. Honestly it hurt something in her to know that. Maybe that was a part of the problem, why he turned out like this. Ellen took a single step toward him, a hand reaching for his.

“Come…join me. Help me with this” she requested, “Please?”

He pulled his long clawed hand away from her, shaking his head. “It’s a childish waste of-”.

“Stop. Right now. Time doesn’t mean anything anymore. It’s okay. We can do things like this. No one’s here to stop us or judge us or anything. Who cares if it’s childish? A time spent in merriment isn’t wasted time, even if time was still relevant to us” Ellen looked in his eyes, “A passionate hour is never a wasted one. Help me with this…Just once”.

Orlok narrowed his eyes at her and then the huge ball of snow. He sighed in annoyance and shook his head.

“Fine…Once, and that’s it” he conceded.

“Once is all I ask” she smiled coyly, like a cat who had just caught her prey. Her first genuine smile since they appeared here.

But even that was enough to make something in his chest feel awfully warm…

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