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#wolfhound of hell
valhallasoutlaw · 2 months
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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
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daskibum · 2 months
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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.
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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 3 months
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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."
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stangalina · 6 months
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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.
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camlannpod · 3 months
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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.
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Immortal Beloved - Chapter Nine.
A warm, heartfelt thank you to my readers for your continued engagement :)
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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.  
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anjelicawrites · 1 year
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Soft II
Paring: Osferth x reader  
Synopsis: soft smut between reader and Osferth. Set in the poly relationship universe
Warnings: cockwarming, smut. 18+ only.
Part I
The only reason you are home to welcome Osferth, is that all parents canceled their meetings with you. It’s a rare occasion and you use it to doll yourself up for no reason but to try the new body wash you’ve bought and a new hairstyle, while listening to your favorite podcasts.  
You have just finished the pizza dough when you hear the front door open and by the way your Great Dane - Irish Wolfhound mix scampers to the hallway, you know Osferth is back.
“Babe?” you call.
Osferth doesn’t answer, you hear the sound of his booths falling on the floor and the jiggle of his keys hitting the wood of the hallway table, his tired voice telling Ciarán to heel as he walks with heavy gait to the kitchen.
He stares at you with a surprised glance and you see that he is trying to school his expression, to hide the heaviness of his heart, but you’ve known and loved him for so long, that you can see how dimmed the light in his eyes is, how small the smile he gives you and the redness around his eyes telling you he has cried. 
You are immediately alarmed.
“What happened?” - you don’t care that your hands still have leftover dough in them and your apron is covered in flour, cupping his face comes to you as easy as breathing - tell me my love”.
You see the struggle on his features, the control slipping through the fingers of his stubbornness, his instinct is to keep you safe, always. He breaks the moment your thumbs start caressing his cheekbones, your caring touch strips him of his defenses and he crumbles, his arms curl around you in a tight embrace, his face hides against your shoulder and he starts crying, the sobs wreaking his lean frame. You hug him back and start carding your hands through his short hair, sweet nothings leave your lips to console him and he cries even more, moved by your softness and raw acceptance of his feelings. How had he managed for so long without you?
When his tears subside you follow his body has he folds on the floor, face still hidden
“Was it really bad?” your voice is a balm for his frayed nerves
“Yes”.
He doesn’t have the strength to continue; sometimes having to deal with the filth of this earth takes a toll on him, his defenses destroyed. Thank God you are here, reminding him why he works his job.
“I was so much in my head, I didn’t even notice your car”.
Today must have been horrendous, then. Osferth has pretty good space awareness; he might not be at Uhtred's level, but he wouldn't miss your old jeep, if he had, it's because his brain is still focused somewhere else, somewhere bad. You need to act now.
“Come with me, my love” you say, your hands finding his
“Where to?” he’d follow you into Hell, if only you asked
“You deserve to be taken care of”
“You do it, always”
“You need it more, today”.
The “I love you” that leaves his lips is as strong as a mountain and as deep as the sea: accidents might happen, storms might ruin the tranquility, but his feelings will never go away and only God knows the extent of his need for you. Not sexual, just your proximity and care, the knowledge that if he falls, you'll be there to catch him: you are his pillar of strength, he'd be lost without you. 
You draw him a bath in between long, sloppy kisses and you remove his clothes, until he is naked, his cock already half hard under your sight. 
He sighs when the warm water envelopes his tired body, he lets his head loll back against the rim of the tube, eyes closed to listen better to your movements. He hears you fumbling with one of the bottles, the snap of the cap opening and a soft, lavender scent invades his nose
"I love how your hair smell like when you use this one"
"I know. Lift your head, I have to wet yours"
"Use mine, don't waste yours"
"It's not a waste. I like when you smell like me". 
The possessiveness in your tone goes directly to his cock: both he and Aemond adore when you wear their stuff, it's only right that the feeling is mutual: he wants to parade around and people to know to whom he belongs. 
With care you help him bend his head back to wet his hair and pour your shampoo directly on it to work a lather, massaging his scalp as he relaxes under your fingers, soft moans leaving his lips. You rinse his hair and repeat, focusing on the back of his head, where you feel stiffness; he is putty by the time you put a bit of conditioner and comb his short strands. 
Before you grab the body wash, you remove your shirt and throw it in the general direction of the hamper; Osferth opens his eyes, a dreamy "Boobies" leaves his lips. He loves your breasts so much, they are the perfect size for his hands to hold and their softness is just right; he had spent hours just kissing them and smothering his face against their softness. 
"Sit up - you murmur in his ear - I need to wash your back properly"
"May I touch the girls?"
"Yes, you may. But you have to behave"
"Yes miss". 
 And he just lets his face fall against your breasts, breathing in your scent as you wash his nape and his back to the point your arms can reach. 
He mumbles a bit when you remove his face from your chest and stops when you let his hands hold your breast as you lather his front and arms
"I like this bra"
"And there I thought you liked my breasts"
"I do - his voice is slurred, his thumbs caressing your nipples through the material - I love how it shapes them". 
He mumbles again when you ask him to stand so that you can wash his lower half, he wants to keep touching your breasts and you tell him he can do that later. 
You lather his long legs and make a play of ignoring his cock, hard and red, and concentrate on his thighs, the loofah just brushes lightly against his manhood every time you clean the junction of his groin and leg. A long shudder runs through him when you wash his cock with soft movements, not wanting to hurt him, he is so hard; you can see the muscles of his abdomen clench, his face stoic as he tries to reign in his orgasm. 
If he has a thing for your breasts, you have one for his ass, you massage the firm globes until his face is the right shade of red, his breath short. 
Delicately you pull on his arms and he sits back into the water
"Close your eyes, I need to rinse your hair". 
He follows your command without a second thought, bending his head backwards and you steal a kiss on his pulse point, he laughs breathlessly. 
Once you are done with his hair, you stand up and tell him to remain in the water, you are not done with him. 
"What is that?" his eyes are half lidded when they stare at your returning form
"Exfoliant. You are going to like it". 
He doesn't look too convinced at the small tube in your hands. He knows it's one of these things you and Aemond do and that are absolutely baffling to him; he has been blessed with low maintenance skin and hair, he doesn't need to follow a routine like you two, he just needs whatever soap and shampoo he can put his hands on to be happy with the results. 
"It will remove the layers of dead skin on your face"
"I have none" he says, offended
"Everyone has. Even you. Trust me and close your eyes". 
He does but he shrieks in surprise when you start rubbing his face, he doesn't expect it to be raspy. 
"How do you think it's supposed to remove dead skin, if not like this?". 
He doesn't respond, relaxing under your skilled fingers once again. It's unexpectedly good, being pampered like this; he keens when you stop and wash his face. 
You grab his bathrobe and help him wear it once he is out of the tub. His erection hasn't faded but the desire he feels is warm in his loins, he is in no hurry to sink inside of you, happy with being taken care of by you. With long brushes you dry his skin and hair, peppering kisses on his face, before rubbing a light layer of cream on his reddened skin. 
"You smell like me everywhere now" your voice possessive, your nose scienting the crook of his neck
"I like that. Everyone should know to whom I belong". 
His voice is soft, with an undercurrent of possessives you know all too well. 
With his head bent a bit forward, he stares up at you from under his lashes, a coy smile on his face while his hand goes to your pants, his fingers hooking there before sliding them down your legs, along with your panties. The skin of his shoulders is soft under your touch, you use his frame for balance to kick your clothes away. With practice he unhooks your bra, letting your breasts free, at once, his hands mold around  the soft globes as he sighs tiredly, the warmth of the bath and your ministrations are taking their toll on him.
“We can take a nap, if you want” both his thumbs worry your nipples and your voice comes out breathier than you expected
“It’s not a nap that I need, my beautiful lady”.
His hands take yours and he slowly makes his way to the bedroom, he keeps staring at you from under his lashes, coyness and need in his beautiful eyes. 
He wonders if you know the extent of his love for you, if you can understand how deep his feelings run for you: almost three years together and he feels the same way he did the moment he saw you, when he knew that he wouldn't want anyone else. 
Osferth knows there are two turning points in his life: when he met you and when Aemond became part of your relationship, his two before and after moments. 
His big hands frame your face and he loses himself in your eyes, wishing to know how to put into words how he feels and he can't, the only thing he can do is kiss you, pour all of himself in the act, burning you in the flames of his feelings. You can't help but grab his neck for support, overwhelmed by the forcefulness of his hands crushing your body to his, one hand in your hair, the other on your hip, his tongue on your mouth. You are the vessel for his feelings, ready to receive whatever he needs to give you, to burn for him if necessary. 
When your mouths part for air, your legs bobble, his strong body the only thing keeping you up
"Osferth?"
You seek his eyes, the clear blue almost gone, devoured by his enlarged pupils. 
His words desert him, he can only help you lie on the bed to attack your body with his lips, kissing all over your face and neck before relenting to stare at you, one big hand caressing your face, his frame obscuring everything else. 
"My love, are you all right?"
Like a cat he brushes his face against your hand, needing the soft contact in his bones
"Have me" he murmurs, his forehead against yours
"In any way you want me to". 
He kisses you again, softer this time and the way you lose yourself in him is even deeper than before, the care of his lips and hands on your body helps you forget yourself in his earthy scent. 
You don't even notice when he turns your entwined bodies until you straddle him. 
You stare into his eyes and ground your hips against his cock, once, twice, until hands grab your hips
"Don't tease, I can't, not now" his voice is broken by need. 
Taking the reins from him comes to you as natural as breathing, bending forward you kiss him again, slowly, exploring his mouth with your tongue and he lets you with a moan, his body boneless under yours. 
"Sit up against the headboard, I want you to be comfortable" you murmur against his mouth. 
Osferth scuttles backwards, his eyes hooded and cock painfully engorged. His legs splay for you and you crawl to him, pinning him with the heath in your eyes. A part of him wants to rush you, it's easily overwhelmed by his desire to be taken care of by you, to let go and be yours, he needs this so much it almost hurts. 
He lets you straddle his hips and grab his cock to align it with your pussy; his moans of pleasure are drowned by your kisses as you sink on him until he bottoms out. 
Your warmth flatlines his brain, he can only moan as you adjust yourself as his arms encircle your lower back and your forehead finds his. You don't do anything else, just letting him feel you tight against him until his face finds your chest and he abandons himself against you with a happy sigh. 
You don't know for how long you stay like this, breathing each other in, your arms cradling Osferth's tired head against your bosom. You delicately rock against him and his fingers grab the meat of your hips, his lips kiss the soft skin of your chest in between long moans when you massage his scalp. Without your control your walls curl around his cock and shudders rock his body every time; you don't really want to make this go anywhere, not until he tells you: you know that's the closeness that he needs, not an orgasm and you are happy to give him this for however long he desires this. Being inside of you is his safe place, you will never deny him this feeling. 
With a long sigh, he lifts his head from your chest; his eyes are glossy and crystal blue, the planes of his face relaxed, he looks younger than his years and you want to protect him from everything and everyone. 
"My love - his voice is broken and small - I need you"
"How do you need me?"
"Ride me, please". 
Your hands find his shoulders for purchase as he grabs your ass, your lips are against his, not really kissing but exchanging breaths. 
Gently you lift yourself, not all the way and slowly you envelope him again, Osferth's hands grab at the sweaty skin of your back, a moan passes from his lips to yours as you repeat your movements, nice and slow, making him feel every crevice of your cunt, forcing him to bottom out every single time, your breasts sliding easily against his sweaty chest and he moans again and again, one hand sneaking into your hair to keep your lips where they are, his tongue licking at your mouth. He needs you faster but he doesn't want you to stop, he wants to come so much, at the same time his desire is to stay rooted inside your cunt forever, where he knows he is safe. 
Your breathing becomes more broken the more you ride him, his cock pushing perfectly against your g spot; you don't want to orgasm just yet, he needs more of you, but his cock is perfect inside your walls, igniting your nerves with each stroke, again and again, his hands moving your body to his leisure. You are not going to last long, you bite down your own lower lip, the pain does nothing to stop your orgasm to crest and crest until his blue eyes find yours and he tells you to come. You clamp around him, forcing his orgasm from him, his hands grabbing uselessly at your skin as you two fall against the headboard, breathless. 
When Aemond arrives home, you are on the couch, ebook reader in hand, Osferth snoring softly over you, huddled in a thick sweater and fleece blanket. Aemond recognises the sweater and stares at you with worry in his eyes: Osferth wears that only after a nasty day
"He is fine now, I made sure of that". 
Aemond releases the breath he was holding and crouches near the sofa to kiss your mouth and then Osferth's forehead, the latter mumbles something in his sleep and curls his arms tighter around your frame. 
It's Aemond who finishes to bake the pizza and you feed it to Osferth, once he is awake.
Taglist: @notyour-valentine​
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lambsouvlaki · 10 months
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For the Hell of it 3 - Definitely Just Friends
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Character: Jason Todd x civilian! Fem!oc
Rating and Warnings: G, no warnings
Word Count: 1,219
Summary: She and Jason take her dog for a walk and talk about how they're definitely not going to get into a relationship, nu-uh.
Masterlist
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The third time was on purpose. So were the fourth, and fifth. 
Jason had been messaging Andy for the last month, more than he had ever texted anyone outside of the vigilante scene since coming back from the dead.
Sometimes he met her at the college library when she had essays to write and he had case work that could be done in public and neither one wanted to be stuck at home. He made annoying orders at the cafe she worked at on weekends, and she made him terrible coffee in return. Conversation drifted from their shared tastes in books, to food, to travel, to whatever came into their heads.
It was all going well until a fear took root in Jason. 
He had no business getting into a relationship. For so many reasons. Gotham was its usual unhinged and dangerous self, and the Red Hood played a vital part in its defense. It would be irresponsible to go dragging some innocent into this life. He couldn’t. He was self aware enough to know vigilantism had made him a paranoid mess, and he wasn’t going to make that anyone else’s problem. And he’d seen how the others started taking only safe bets when they had someone to come home to. He wasn’t going to start playing it safe now, not with so many people counting on him. 
Not that he and Andy were dating. But it made him nervous when he found himself flirting, or laughing with her just a little too hard. Thinking about her in idle moments on patrol. Idle moments.. Not on patrol. 
Andy was fun. She was beautiful and thoughtful and she didn’t see a ghost when she looked at him.
He couldn’t string her along. It wasn’t fair. 
Unless of course she didn’t even want him, in which case he was making a damn fool of himself for nothing. 
They were meeting up at the dog park at Too Fucking Early o’clock. She was more fond of mornings than him. Her dog Marlow needed a walk, and they were going to stroll down to the good taco truck for lunch. That wasn’t too intimate. It was lunch, anyone could get lunch.
He got there first, wearing dark glasses and squinting resentfully at the bright winter sun that was cutting through the usual diffusing layer of smog. He casually surveyed the others walking around. Crime Alley looked better by day. He didn’t even spot many hidden weapons. There were some young kids squealing on the grass, and a few people jogging in pairs. A fair few people in different uniforms smoked under shop awnings and there was a line for the coffee truck. Poison Ivy had done some light vandalism on the park a year ago but they had it in hand now and nobody had been eaten by the bushes in months. It was downright pleasant. 
“Marlow!” Andy’s voice called. 
Jason turned and was immediately confronted with soulful black eyes in a large grey snout staring intently at him. The wiry haired dog the snout was attached to came up to Jason’s hip. His mouth split into a wide smile and he presented a hand for him to sniff. Marlow inspected his offering thoroughly. Then he presented his head for pats, bumping his face at Jason's hand.
“Who’s a good boy, hm?” Jason crouched down to rub his sides. “Ready for your walk? No, no licking my face, come on.”
“If the face isn’t for licking, why is it within licking range? Checkmate, human,” Andy said. 
Jason smiled up at her. She was dressed in activewear, red and black tights hugging her shapely legs and hips before they were hidden beneath a thick grey hoodie. Her hair was up in a high bun. She grinned back at him, as blinding as the sunlight. 
He swallowed and looked back at Marlow. He got his face licked. She laughed at him. 
He made a face and stood up. “I had no idea he was so big. Irish wolfhound, huh?”
“Yeah. I didn’t know what he was when I found him as a puppy.” They started walking together along the dirt paths. “My friend who was totally going to get into vet school any day now said he was an Irish terrier.”
Jason snorted. 
“How are things with you?” 
“Alright. Work’s keeping me busy and Mrs Nikolaou on seventh street gave me a half sheet tray of Moussaka the other day,” he said. He had told her he was a contractor in private security, which in Gotham wasn’t necessarily a criminal activity, it did not invite follow-up questions. It was easier than maintaining an elaborate string of lies, and unlike Bruce he couldn’t get away with telling everyone he got hurt playing polo. 
Andy’s eyebrows spiked. “A half-? What is it with little old ladies adopting you? Where’s my moussaka, is what I’d like to know.” 
“I guess you’re just not as cute as me.” 
“Impossible. I’m fucking adorable.” 
He opened his mouth to agree, and then thought better of it. “Marlow’s about to eat duck poo.”
“Marlow!”
They reached the taco truck, which had a line in front of it to his disappointment. It never had a line at 2AM. It smelled amazing though, and they lined up eagerly. Marlow whined very convincingly but he’d already had his lunch. 
They got their orders and sat on a low stone wall to eat. 
Strands of Andy’s hair had come loose in the wind, and were at risk of getting stuck in her taco. She kept whipping her hair to try and flick it away, since both her hands were dripping salsa. Jason reached over to brush the hair from her face. She looked up at him and blushed. He tucked the hair behind her ear and grinned at her flustered look. She elbowed him in the stomach and stole one of his corn chips. 
Then he got skittish and dedicated his attention back to his lunch. Marlow curled up at their feet, keeping a wary eye on passersby. Andy finished hers first and scrubbed at her hands with a napkin. 
She cleared her throat. “Hey.”
“What?”
A silence stretched between them. He glanced at her warily. 
“I don’t want to make things weird, but, uh. I’ve been meaning to say.” She stared at her hands in her lap. “I’m not looking for anything romantic at the moment. If that was what you were looking for. It’s not that I don’t like you, I just had a bad break up a while ago and I can’t- I’m not- um.”
Relief and crushing disappointment filled him. He chose to lean into the relief.
“I’m not looking for anything more either,” he said and bumped her shoulder.
She let out a breath of relief and looked up at him. “We can be friends, right?”
“Yeah.” He ran his hands through his hair and coughed a laugh. “I was actually trying to figure out how to ask you the same.”
“Yeah? Bad break up too?”
“Na. Just… not in the right place for it.”
Her shoulders relaxed and he did too. The distance he had been trying to maintain between them fell away. It was safe to get close to her now, because he knew it wasn’t going to lead to anything.
Next >>
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sleepystawbie · 1 year
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Someone in the extended Ghoap family needs to have a GIANT dog that ADORES Simon. Like Great Pyrenees/St Bernard/Irish Wolfhound level HUGE. And the dog looks at Ghost and is like
'HELLO FELLOW GIANT! I SEE YOU ALSO LIVE AMONGST THE SMALL HUMANS!! LET US BE FRIENDS!'
Extra points if the dog is weary of most other men but is fully in love with Ghost. It can smell the sadness, knows he’s a softie deep down. Dog barks like hell at Soap, runs him off because Simon is HIS friend thank you VERY much.
‘Ah yes, the Smaller Male Human that smells suspiciously like Friend Human. Keep an eye on that one, lads. Don’t get too close, Friend Human, he looks like he bites ankles.’
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deva-arts · 2 months
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What would the cast be as dogs?
Okay this question surprised me because I did not expect to have an answer as readily as I did
Vincent: Husky.
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It doesn't take much to see the resemblance. They are very triangular, they scream their lungs out a lot, both unhinged & dramatic with freaky pale eyes, love the cold, easily make cursed faces, and shed often... And they have the same color palette? It's a match made in hell.
Amon: Pittie!
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They're short but BULKY, loving but dangerous, muscular, protective, silly, and they both have a killer bite. Pitbulls are extremely sweet family dogs, but they're sadly really misunderstood and often taken into brutal work, like being made to fight :( This is also Amon's favorite breed.
Seraphina: Dobermann Pinscher
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Really channelling the feminine rage here. These dogs are highly protective, loyal, and smart... But they can also be very aggressive and get stressed without exercise and mental stimulation. They are workaholic, angry looking beasties... That are very affectionate around those they love!
...
But I'm kidding myself.
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Mini Pinschers are deceptively cute, but they can be very bold, willful, and distrustful around strangers, which often comes off as aggressive. To put it bluntly, they have big dog software in chihweenie hardware. Sorry Sera (I am joking)
Sonia: Show Poodle
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What's not to like? They're curly, fashionable, high-maintenance and affectionate! they're also playful and friendly dogs who adore attention and tend to take up space, plus they're very easy to train... mostly. It's either zoomies or anxiety with these fellas. They're also very sensitive.
Nathaniel: Irish Wolfhound!
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They look nice and fluffy and are calm, sweet, cuddly, friendly, and laid-back family dogs. In truth, they're one of the largest dog breeds out there, and in the olden times, they were used to combat actual wolves! While they could easily be dangerous if aggressive, they prefer to be gentle giants.
Eric: Mutt
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Sure, they don't come from any known or specific pedigree, but they're hardy, all-around dogs that are just as good as any others! even if some snobby folk beg to differ. See that scruffy pooch there? it should never be underestimated. It is also likely part-corgi.
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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 3 months
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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."
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hashtagdrivebywrites · 3 months
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Reading through your list of WIPs, I was like, “T-posing for dominance? That sounds fun.” But then I saw Red Devil Rowdy and OH MY GOD I NEVER KNEW I NEEDED THIS CROSSOVER.
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For Essays on T-Posing, the concept was, "Janet Drake is Loki" and it's my first honest attempt at a Tim-centric fic. (I've actually been waiting for someone to ask about this one because I think it's pretty fun, at least to me anyway.) Emjoy lmfao.
* Crack Treated Seriously * Mama Loki (possible tie in with the Loki series? Like they're a variant? have not decided) * Weird/Annoying Siblings as Roommates * Power activation and Learning Curve(?) * Nobody else knows but they're suspicious
--
“I wasn’t aware you had a dog, Drake,” Damian’s voice, level and forcibly calm in what Tim knew was an effort to keep from cracking, said from somewhere in the living room with Mild Interest.
“A big dog,” Jason said. He shifted, “What the hell is it? A Pyrenees? You could make a whole other animal out of this hair.”
Damian scoffed, “It’s the wrong color,” like everyone had encyclopedic knowledge of different dog breeds built into their brains.
“He's a hybrid, actually,” Tim said after he finished quietly knocking his forehead against the door frame because god, what a time for a health and wellness check. “Canis Lupus - Gray Wolf, and some Irish Wolfhound. I think.”
“You think?” Jason echoed back, incredulous.
“I haven’t exactly had time to get him DNA tested, Jason.” Not that Fenrir would let Tim get anywhere near him unless a turkey leg or peanut butter filled Kong was involved.
“Where is he?” Damian said, the can-I-meet-your-dog tunnel vision activated at full strength.
Hopefully not terrorizing some poor idiot with mom somewhere. “At doggy obedience school.”
“Without you to guide him? For every dog there are two participants when it comes to obedience school, Drake.”
-- -*-*- Y'all gonna make my head blow up like Megamind over your reception of Red Devil Rowdy, lmao. I'll share a little more about it since you mentioned it in your ask.
* Jason (and batfam) is the only one that know the Gang is real because they've worked with Bruce at the beginning of his vigilante career * Danny is still fairly early in his Phantom days (14 years old, can't remember if I mentioned that in the first ask) * Mentor Jason, Velma and Daphne vibes * Bobby Singer basically functions as the team Fairy God Mother
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klein-sodor-bahn · 8 months
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Gordon Gresley
The grumpy man himself! He will personally bitch-slap ab*sive parents in court. Why? Well for that you have to read on, but it won’t be pretty.
Big fat trigger for: Ab*se!
Gordon Gresley was born on the 4th of April 1950 in Doncaster. His father was a high class lawyer and a well respected member of society. But Gordon and his siblings knew a way different man. He beat his children for the slightest bit of misconduct or what he perceived as it. Gordon often took the blame to protect his younger siblings. Gresley seniors first wife terrorized her twin daughters Polly and Bonnie and due to that when Gordon ran away he often took them with him. Most often he found refuge at his aunts(Henry’s mother) place. She took care of their bruises and other injuries. Gordon despite thinking his cousin was a bit weird liked Henry way more than his own brother Scott. Scott was their father’s favorite and excluded from the harsh punishments. Mr. Gresley remarried two times. Resulting in Gordon having a lot more siblings than most. But there might be even more half-siblings, because Gordon’s father was not a really faithful husband. He pressured Gordon into becoming a lawyer while Scott was allowed to pursue his acting career.
Henry and Gordon ended up in the same college and were roommates. And after graduation realized both needed to work on themselves and went to therapy and promised to never marry. Although for different reasons. Gordon’s father passed away in his 40s and Gordon reluctantly took over the law firm. He had specialized in family right prevent that even more kids go through the same hell like he did. He adopts an Irish Wolfhound from a shelter as a companion and loves the big scruffy dog. He named him Nigel. He’s successful in his career and woman admire him, but he doesn’t want a relationship. His assistant is James who is rather flirty what irritates Gordon to no end.
When he learns that Henry and Charlie plan on marrying he’s furious and feels betrayed. But in the end he realizes how happy his cousin and best friend is. Although when he first met Charlie their conversation was littered with subtle insults.
But the chaos was not over. Shortly after Henry and Charlie adopted their little boy a ten year old brat suddenly was on Gordon’s doorstep. His name Thomas Billington. Gordon not knowing what to deal with a child dragged the kid to Scotland and asked Henry for advice. But that’s another story because there’s more.
One day a woman shows up at Henry’s place while Gordon is there. Her name Viktoria Henschel. She reveals the Gordon is her son. Gordon’s father seduced her in 1949 and for “favors” gave her extra rations. When she ended up pregnant old Gresley concocted a plan which involved bullying Viktoria into giving her the child, taking it to England, force his current wife to play it off as hers and forge the birth certificate. Viktoria as proof has kept the original Berlin one and copies of the letters she tried sending him. And Gordon remembered that his father burned letters from Poland, later Germany. (Viktoria for a few years lived in Poland). He at first was devastated but after a while was happy he’s not related to the woman who terrorized his sisters all those years ago.
Gordon has a strong sense of justice and despite his grumpy exterior is kind and helps out people in need. He despises those who wanna leach off others. For years he was uncertain about his sexuality but thanks to Boris (BoCo) he can embrace being bisexual. And he learns to handle Thomas although he causes Gordon a good amount of extra grey hair.
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Name Meanings/Etymologies of Devil May Cry Characters
Classic Devil May Cry Canon A: Agnus - lamb Alice - noble, of nobility Alex Lowell - to defend, to protect | young wolf Alyssa Martin - rational, noble | warlike, of Mars, warrior Amanda - worthy to be loved Angelina Hagel - messenger of god | farm Arius - warlike, devoted to Ares Arkham - happy
B: Beryl - colour of the sea Bobby - bright fame, shining glory Butler - servant in charge of the wine cellar
C: Carlo - man, free man Cindy - light Chen the Cannibal - dawn, morning, great, tremendous Christopher Lowell - bearer of Christ | young wolf Claude - lame, disabled Credo - I believe
D: Dante - enduring, steadfast, lasting Ducas - leader, to guide, general
E: Elena Huston - bright, shining light | hugh's town, settlement on the hill Elise - oath of God, God is satisfaction Ernest - serious, determined Enzo Ferino - home ruler | iron Eva - life, living one
F: Fredi - peaceful ruler
G: Gloria - glory Grue - shiver, shudder
I: Isaac - he will laugh
J: J.D. Morrison - son of the dark-skinned Jeffrey Turner - pledge of peace, district, traveler | lathe worker Jessica - to see before, god beholds, to behold Joe - he will add Julio - youthful, youth, downy bearded
K: Kalina Ann - viburnum tree, to make red-hot | grace, mercy, favour Kerry Marcus - dark, dark-haired | warlike, dedicated to Mars Kyle - narrow, strait, channel Kyrie - lord
L: Lady - noble, bread kneader Lucia - light Lynn Marcus - lake | warlike, dedicated to Mars
M: "Mad Dog" Denvers - crazy, insane | canine | green valley Margaret - pearl Mary - bitter, beloved, drop of the sea Matier - friend, friendly Michel - who is like God Mike Hagel - who is like God | farm
N: Nell Goldstein - bright, shining light, weaver, merciful, god is my light | gold stone, touchstone Nero - black, strong, powerful Nesty - place to sit down, pure, chaste Nicoletta “Nico” Goldstein - victory of the people | gold stone, touchstone Nina Lowell - little girl | young wolf
P: Patty Lowell - noble, patrician | young wolf Patty Lowell (heiress) - noble, patrician | young wolf Paul - small, little, humble
R: Rock Goldstein - crag | gold stone, touchstone Roy Martin - king, red, redhead | warlike, of Mars, warrior
S: Sally - princess, noblewoman Santa Claus - saint, holy | victory of the people Sanctus - holy Simon - he has heard, flat-nosed Soldier “Crew Cut” - mercenary | short-length haircut Solemnis - annual, ceremonial, religiously fixed Sparda - sword, simple, frugal
T: Tiki - hope, waterfall, image Tim - to honour
V: V “Vitale” - Roman numeral for five | life giving, lively Vergil - flourishing Vincent - to conquer
X: χ (Chi) - christ, Greek numeral for six hundred
BOSSES and/or DEMONS
A: Abigail - father's joy Argosax - bright, shining Agni - fire, flame Artemis - butcher, safe
B: Bael - lord, master Balrog - demon of might Baul - snail, slow like a snail Beastheads - wild animal | top of body, leader, ruler Belphagor - lord of the gap, lord of the opening Beowulf - bee wolf, war wolf, bear Berial - worthless Bolverk - evildoer, worker of evil Bradley - broad meadow Brian Lowell - noble, high, hill, strong | young wolf
C: Cavaliere Angelo - knight, horseman, rider | messenger of god Cerberus - hound of the earth, black wolfhound, death-darkness
D: Dagon - grain, fish Demon of Capulet City - spirit | hat | citizen Demon of Morris Island - spirit | dark-skinned | watery land Director - to guide Doppelganger - double-goer, double-walker
E: Echidna - snake, viper Elder Geryon Knight - old | earth | boy, youth, servant
F: Freki - greedy, ravenous Frost - to freeze Furiataurus - fury of the bull, furious bull
G: Geri - rules with a spear, greedy Geryon - earth Gigapede - giant foot Gilgamesh - the ancestor is a hero Gilver - [ERROR 404: meaning of word not found]
Gilbert - bright pledge
Goliath - to uncover, reveal, running, destroyer Griffon - curved, bent
H: Hell Vanguard - to cover, conceal | before guard
I: Infested Chopper - to attack, hostile | helicopter Infested Tank - to attack, hostile | reservoir of water
J: Jester - reciter of romances, minstrel Jokatgulm - [ERROR 404: meaning of word not found]
K: King Cerberus - ruler | hound of the earth, black wolfhound, death-darkness
L: Leviathan - to twist, coiled
M: Machiavelli - bad little nail Mad Hatter - crazy, insane | maker of hoods, maker of cowls Malphas - mischief Modeus [Asmodeus] - wrathful spirit, demon of wrath Mundus - world
N: Nefascapitis - head of sin, head of violation of divine law Nefasturris - tower of sin, tower of violation of divine law Nefasvermis - worm of sin, worm of violation of divine law Nelo Angelo - black, strong, powerful | messenger of god Nevan - little saint, little holy one Nidhogg - malice striker Nightmare - a female demon suffocates sleepers Nina Lowell (demon) - little girl | young wolf Noctpteran - night wing
O: Orangguerra - war orangutan
P: Phantom - an apparition, specter Plesio - near, close Plutonian - relating to wealth, relating to riches Pride - brave, pomp, valiant Priest - one who leads cattle
Q: Qliphoth - husks, empty shells
R: Red Eye - airplane flight that deprives travelers of sleep, raw and inferior whiskey Rudra - howler, roarer, to cry
S: Sara - princess, noblewoman Secretary - one entrusted with secrets Sid - wide Sloth - indolence, slowness, laziness
T: Tartarussian - relating to a deep pit Tateobesu - vertical, length, height | fat, stout, plump The Savior - the one who saves others Trismagia - three magicians
U: Urizen - your reason, to limit
W: White Rabbit - bright, shine | young rabbit
Ninja Theory's DmC: Devil May Cry Canon
A:  Assiel - created by god
B: Bob Barbas - bright fame, shining glory | beard, uncle, stammering
D: Dante (DmC) - enduring, steadfast, lasting
E: Eva (DmC) - life, living one
H: Hollow Dante - empty place | enduring, steadfast, lasting Hollow Kat - empty place | pure, clear Hollow Vergil - empty place | flourishing Hunter - one who chases wild animals
K: Kat - pure, clear
L: Lilith - spirit of the night
M: Mundus (DmC) - world Mundus's Spawn - world | to spread out, expand
P: Phineas - mouth of brass, dark skinned, serpent's mouth
S: Sparda (DmC) - sword, simple, frugal Succubus - to lie beneath
V: Vergil (DmC) - flourishing
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chetungwan · 11 months
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As promised, we got here exactly what daemons the characters from POI would have
First: John Reese is a wolfhound. This man is the most dog-coded character I've ever seen in my life. I'm of the opinion that people default into assigning dog daemons too easily, and partly that's because none of the characters I've seen given them have been anywhere near as dog as Reese is. My sister and I first started coming up with these almost five years ago, and this was the very first we landed on.
The next one we landed on was Shaw. We waffled between panther and cougar for a bit, but panther is a little... fancy for her. Dressing up isn't exactly one of her highest priorities; she'd prefer to be on the roof with a gun. Or in a tree with a mouthful of teeth, so to speak.
Our next stop was Joss Carter and damn, but the second we came up with it, we were sold. She has a peregrine falcon. Bird of prey endemic to NYC, something beautiful and fierce.
After that, we tossed around a few ideas but didn't settle on anything until now, years later. One walk through the rain and suddenly we put all the pieces together
First, we had ideas about a serval for Root, but it didn't quite fit. We were trying to parallel Shaw with a cat, but in the end, it makes more sense to parallel Finch. So of course she has a bird! An African grey parrot, something brutally intelligent and honestly, often mistreated. And since she's paralleling him by having a bird like his names, that leaves us free to pick what the hell ever for his daemon
I had insect vibes for him, but I couldn't think of anything known for intelligence. We floated a bee or an ant, but. He's not exact social. Then my sister suggested. Well. Why not an entire colony of ants. And you know what, yeah. Hell yeah. Finch's daemon is an entire colony of ants. Pullman isn't exactly gonna show up to tell us no.
Elias is next, and he gets to parallel both Finch and Carter! Like Finch's names, he has a bird, and like Carter he has a bird endemic to NYC. He has a rock dove, otherwise known as a common pigeon. He needs something innocuous that can fly (ha) under the radar
His right-hand man, Antony aka Scarface, gets a fisher. It was my sister's first thought for Elias, but it fits better for him. Something small and extremely vicious.
Lastly, we debated over Fusco for a long while. He kinda has dog energy, but. Well. No one can match Reese on that front. Eventually, we settle on a very large, kinda scraggly grey tabby cat. Sorta like a Maine coon, but without the pedigree.
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aller-geez · 9 months
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Get to know: Kanai Orpheus
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2500 (25) // He/Him // pansexual // Hell Hound (Borzoi/Russian Wolfhound)
Full name: Kanai Orpheus
Nickname: Nai, K
Date Of Birth: February 10th
Big Three: Aquarius 🌞 Cancer 🌝 Virgo ↗️
(under construction!!!!)
Physical Appearance —
Age: 2500 years old, 25 earth years.
Eye Color: Cyan, has sectoral heterochromia in left eye (brown)
Hair Color: Grey Blue
Weight: 146 pounds
Height: 6’1
Race: Hell Hound (Borzoi/Russian Wolfhound is his breed)
Distinguishing Marks or Characteristics: Kanai has rather short, straight horns that are a shiny black. He wears a halo above his head ironically, and the gold color of his halo match his cheek piercings, his 30 mm plugs in his ears, and the upside-down crosses on chains from cartilage piercings on each ear. He wears black studs in his two top lip piercings, and both bottom lip piercings, and a seamless black ring in his septum piercing. The two nostril piercings have black horseshoe rings, and sometimes he wears a black barbell in his bridge piercing. His scleras are black. He always tries to assume the wardrobe of an elderly man (think, lots of sweater vests?)
Personality —
Greatest Strength: His determination. He never gives up if something has been set out to do; he doesn’t accept no for an answer.
Greatest Weakness: Earthly emotions. In hell, Kanai excels at anything he tries with minimum effort expended, however, he just can’t grasp the concept of emotions he cannot experience, though he desperately tries. His boyfriend, Draeko, has bipolar-1 and what started as a research project for the hellhound turned out to be just the beginning of something much bigger 🖤
Soft Spot: Doesn’t really have a soft spot as he doesn’t have emotions, but he does feel a force drawing him to Draeko that might eventually change everything for both of them 🖤
Mannerisms: His default expression is: :<
Miscellaneous Trivia —
Is Cerberus’ 12th son, and was next in line to take his father’s place in guarding the gates of hell for the next millennia. Before he spent the rest of his painfully long life at the gate, their culture required him to partake in RAMspringa, where he was forced into a human vessel and sent to earth with a chaperone (Alistar) and had to experience everything that the planet had to offer him before he could agree to take his father’s place.
Unsure of how to navigate most situations, he constantly looks to Alistar for reassurance and advice, despite Al frequently steering him in the wrong direction “for the lolz”
His boyfriend, Draeko, is diagnosed with Bipolar-1 and struggles to regulate his own emotions, giving Kanai even more of a difficult time trying to decipher the mutt and how he should react.
Sneeze Content —
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ALLERGIES
Plants of all kinds
Dust
Strong perfumes / soaps
Cigarette smoke
Unfamiliar earth things
How severe are they?
Completely encumbering and constant. The mortal vessel he was given before being sent to earth had gone missing on inspection day and never received its “earth allergen immunity” vaccination the day before, leaving the poor hellhound with the most sensitive nose that reacts to nearly anything that could coax out a sneeze or two.
Do they get sick often?
Being from Hell, his immune system is pretty resistant to earthly viruses although he definitely gets a cold/flu a couple times a year like an average human.
How bad is it usually?
Due to the unfamiliarity, he always feels like he’s dying, regardless if it’s severe or not. He will complain often to Al, but Draeko won’t give him the chance to complain because he’s already coming with whatever the hellhound was about to ask for.
Do they stifle?
It’s not that he doesn’t stifle if possible, but most times his sneezes are too strong to successfully contain, so often times Kanai will forget it’s an option.
How loud are their sneezes?
Not super loud, but very breathy. Involves a ton of ‘K’s and ‘S’s,
What do they sneeze into?
If alone or out in public, his hands/elbow. If he’s trying to get a little spicy for Al, he’ll aim for either Draeko, whatever in Alistar’s hands at the time, or just simply on his best friend.
How often do they sneeze?
Because of his mortal vessel’s extreme sensitivity to earthly allergens or even just touch, they’re constantly bothering him, although some worse days than others.
How many times do they sneeze in a fit?
Doesn’t usually have long fits, and 1-2 sneezes at once is his usual, unless he’s had prolonged exposure.
Do they have build-ups or are they sudden?
Extremely sudden and without much warning. As soon as he feels it coming, it’s too late to stop it.
Do they sneeze in public?
Yes, as Kanai doesn’t understand the emotion of embarrassment.
Some examples of their sneezes?
hh’KTishhh’yuu!!
HEH'kkssshuuh!!
Eh'kgsssshihh!
hh’KSHHh’hieww!!
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Backstory —
(Coming soon!)
Reference Sheet —
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Shift —
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