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i write for myself not for comments but dear god getting comments does so remind me of the joy of writing and sharing something

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Major beauty and the Beast reference coming up in the next chapter guys! Stay tuned! ^-^ man I'm so excited for this but I gotta work today!!!!! Ahhhhhh!!!!

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me, seeing someone left me a comment: screaming, running around the room in circles, kicking my feet up in the air, jumping up and down, giggling to myself, squealing, wiggling, dancing around...

me, replying to someone's comment: Thanks! I'm glad you enjoyed it. :)

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So I try to make each chapter longer than the last but...sadly I failed with this one. It's a relatively short one but I hope you guys like it ^^

Taglist: @exactlyelegantwizard , @xenoanamorph , @hoeia-strigoi , @arwenkenobi48 , @xanth420 , @serpent ,@landlockedmermaid77, @uncensored-aj

If you'd like to be added to the taglist, please let me know!

Exile: A Nosferatu Fanfic

Chapter 4

You were my town, now I'm in exile seeing you out…

For the first time ever in either of his lifetimes, Count Orlok was out in the snow, rolling a middle snowball to make the body of the snowman. He looked, and honestly felt just as, ridiculous. The wolfhounds helped when they could, but spent the time either watching the pair or chasing each other around the courtyard. Ellen looked over at him and chuckled.

“Not a word, Ellen…” he growled a little.

She couldn’t stifle a laugh. “Oh for goodness sake, you act like I’m doing something tortuous to you…It’s supposed to be fun and you look so…annoyed”.

“This is ridiculous…” the count rolled his eyes, “Is this big enough?”

Ellen came over and examined the ball he was rolling. “I think so. We could probably mold-Oh goodness you can’t be serious”.

He had already used magic to mold the middle ball on to the first, fitting it quite easily. Orlok raised a brow at her disapproval. “What? I literally just-”.

“Magic isn’t the solution to everything” Ellen argued.

Orlok scoffed. “It is in my world…”.

“Yes, and look how well that worked out for you”.

The count narrowed his eyes at her at that. “Watch yourself, micul suflet”.

Ellen shook her head. “You just wanted an easy way out of this, didn’t you?”

“Maybe. Your words not mine”.

“Are you really that miserable doing this? It’s just a snowman” she looked at him, feeling a bit disappointed.

“Why is this so upsetting to you?” he cocked his head, genuinely confused as to why she wasn’t happy with him using magic.

“It just…defeats the purpose I guess. I just wanted to…spend an afternoon making a snowman or two” Ellen sighed.

Her explanation did little to ease the count’s confusion. She had never been against him using magic for simple little things before. This seemed like such a trivial thing to be upset over. He rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“You’re being ridiculous, little one. You’ve taken issue with me using it before”.

“That was for…other reasons” she shuddered as a few memories came to mind…

“Less ridiculous than snow people”.

Ellen sighed. “I just wanted one, ONE peaceful afternoon…Everything just has to be a fight with you and I don’t understand why. And it’s not just now. You’ve always been so…confrontational. About everything. Even if you didn’t have a right to be-”.

A growl cut her off. His of course. “You forget, little one. You have always been mine. Always! That was our agreement! I had every right to be furious knowing you went off and married that useless, childish-”.

“Because you abandoned me! You left me first! You stopped coming when I’d call for you!” Ellen’s voice was more emotional than she intended it to be.

She never wanted to admit it, even to herself, that she had missed him. That something in her felt genuinely broken when he stopped coming to her. Ellen despised that she felt that way, that it was the Demon that made her feel that way. She felt her eyes water, from both anger and sadness. How could he still be so cruel, after what they went through together? After what she did for him? After all they were to each other…

Orlok didn’t respond, just glared down at her. His dark eyes were alight with an all too familiar fury. He didn’t know why he felt so angry once more. It was always anger that got the better of him. Like his shadow haunted those he preyed upon, his rage haunted him. It always had…

“I had my reasons…” he turned away from her.

“And what reasons were those? What did I do that was so wrong-”.

“IT WASN’T YOU!” Orlok roared and shot his long clawed hand out, melting the half done snowman.

Ellen sobbed and looked down. Just one peaceful afternoon was all she wanted. Nothing else. He didn’t need to join her. He could’ve just left her and Furie alone.

“Must you destroy everything you touch?” Ellen sniffed.

He didn’t answer right away. “It is my nature to do so. In the end…I even destroyed you”.

Ellen shook her head. “I chose…I chose you”.

“And perhaps you chose wrong” He shook his head and looked over at the wolfhounds, “Întristare, Durere, Furie! Vino!”

The first two obeyed their master's command but Furie, sweet loveable Furie, padded over to Ellen and stayed at her side. He growled deeply at Orlok, who raised a brow.

“Furie! Acum!” He commanded but the wolfhound growled and barked.

He would not move. He would not leave her out here alone. Ellen's eyes watered a little more as she looked at the sweet, protective hound. He was indeed very poorly named. She hugged him around his neck tightly.

“Thank you, sweet one. Thank you-” she started.

“Treacherous dog!” Orlok snarled but Ellen glared.

“Leave him alone! It's me you're angry with, not him! Do as you must but I will not let you harm these dogs!”

The count turned away and stormed back inside in a fury. He knew he let his anger again get the better of him. There wasn't an excuse for it but pride would not allow him to admit he was the one in the wrong.

Ellen hugged Furie around his soft, warm, fluffy neck, crying softly. What in the world did she ever do to deserve this? Any of this? In the beginning all she had wanted was a friend, a companion. But now she was in, what she thought anyway, was a literal frozen hell with a monster she abhorred and who, seemingly, abhorred her. They were stuck together, all because of a covenant that shouldn’t have meant anything anymore. Ellen pulled away from Furie to pet his head.

“Good boy…you’re such a good boy. Thank you” she told him, managing a soft smile despite what just happened.

Furie wagged his tail, whined and licked her hand softly. Ellen sniffed and looked over at the spot where the destroyed snowman was.

“We may have to make another at some point…It’ll be okay. Let’s just…stay out here a little while. I don’t want to go back in while he’s angry like that. It scares me and I don’t want you getting hurt either” Ellen stood, brushing the snow off her dress, “Perhaps you can show me around. There’s still so much to see here”.

Furie barked and wagged his tail once more, eager to show her around. There was still much she needed to see, to know. This was her home too. It was always meant to be her home…

Orlok lost count of how many times he burned that damn bouquet at this point, but it was far from enough to satiate his fury. Why was it always anger? Why was it always this deep maw of anger that consumed what was left of his heart, what little was left? His clawed hands trembled when he looked at them, anger slowly giving away to a sad numbness. He had no more tears to shed, no more hurt to feel.

So why did his anger persist? Of all things, of all emotions…

Death was supposed to be peaceful. It was supposed to be eternal rest. But why was it only giving him more anger, more sadness, more…grief than anything else? This wasn’t at all what he had hoped for. He didn’t want to be this anymore. He didn’t need blood anymore. The sun no longer harmed him. But yet a loathsome beast he still remained…

Durere came back to the master’s chamber holding something in his jaws, softly so as not to damage it. It was a little soft stuffed bear, handmade a very, very long time ago. Age had seen its fur taken off, leaving behind just a dusty skin. But even so, the wolfhound knew it meant something to his master. He whined, placing the small thing at his master’s feet.

The count peered down at the small, seemingly insignificant thing. A little toy, nothing more. And yet…

He picked it up in his clawed hand and looked at it for a moment, his mind daring to go back to a once happier time. He could hear her voice again, instructing him on how to make it. Orlok remembered having needle pricks for weeks after making so many…And he had done it without magic at her insistence.

But it was the reason they had made such small things that made that small piece of his heart ache in a way that was all too familiar. Orlok clenched his fist around the tiny bear and pressed it to his chest, sorrow threatening to drown him like the very waters of Chaos he sought to avoid...

No.

No!

He was not entitled to mourn, entitled to grief. He didn’t deserve to. Didn’t deserve to heal. Didn’t deserve to move on. He hadn’t earned the right to let go…and from the looks of things he never would…

Still though, he couldn’t hold back the slightest little sob, though no tears fell from his moonlit eyes. He was a monster and monsters didn’t cry.

Monsters did not love.

If you guys enjoyed please consider reblogging, liking, commenting, and following! You guys are awesome and you mean the world to me! Love yall and I'll see you in the next chapter! ^-^

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Damn I'm breaking hearts already in this story...goddammit Orlok why are you like this x.x

Just get ready for some angst and possibly tears next chapter yall...

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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…

If you guys enjoyed this please feel free to like, reblog, and comment! If you wanna read more of my work, feel free to follow! Thank you all so much for reading and I'll see you in the next one ^^ <3

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Dont know if you'd care about a random movie observation, but Ellan and Orlok reminded me of the soulmate trope. More than that they remind me of the director's other movie The VV itch. Specifically of how a witch and familiar function together. The witch calls for a familiar spirit "from whatever sphere" and a spirit answers her. They create a pact and the familiar takes care of the witch, does her bidding, and protects her. I also might be overanalyzing it because of his other movie.

I've seen this ask going around and I kinda like this interpretation! Someone definitely should write an AU with this ^^

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So the next chapter of Exile features some fun out in the snow, a brief history of how Ellen and Thomas met, and a vision from a past that isn't her own...

Stay tuned guys! It's gonna be a good one ^^

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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! 💜🖤💜

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Me: (working on the next chapter of Exile) hm...I wonder if there's a way for me to translate any English to Dacian...

Me: (doesn't find any...)

Google: it's a dead language you dumb bitch, you're not gonna find shit.

Me: ....

Google: (smug silence)

Me: (throws Google at the wall) WHY MUST YOU FAIL ME SO OFTEN?!!!???!!!!

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Hello,

I quite like your Nosferatu fic so far, and I can't wait to see what you do with them in the underworld. Is it the underworld? I apologize if that is presumptuous. I'm a mythology nerd, and the Otherworld/Underworld is my favorite lol. It seems like the perfect place for a vampire and his sylph fairy to fall in love.

Sincerely,

An Occult Nerdette

Hi friend! I intend to develop the world around them in the coming chapters. It's not THE underworld, but rather AN underworld that varies from person to person. Because of Orlok and Ellen's pact though, it's full of things from both of their lives, so they're actually in an underworldly version of his castle, but in Ellen's room there are things that were important to her life and childhood. Orlok knows just about everything about her, but she doesn't really know much about him personally. Not to spoil it but she will learn more about the Count and how he came to be as he was! Please stay tuned because I'm super motivated for this story ^^

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Dang I'm like super motivated to write this cause yall are getting an update already! Thank you guys do much for all the love for this, it's so so appreciated! <3

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

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

Chapter features Romanian as translated by Google. I am so sorry if it's not accurate! X.X

Without further ado!

Exile- A Nosferatu Fanfic

Chapter 1

And it took you five whole minutes, to pack us up and leave me with it. Holding all this love out here in the hall…

It was light when she woke again, surrounded not by cold this time but rather comfort. Ellen’s feeling of painless nothingness was pretty much gone, leaving her feeling light and weightless. But there was oddly warmth, comfort, and softness. She rose and looked around, her senses coming to life again one by one. Ellen didn’t know this place and yet there was a strange sense of familiarity. The room was akin to a dream, or maybe something she had seen in one a long time ago. It inspired that weird, familiar feeling: a feeling that this had happened before. That she had been here before. 

There was the overall lack of color in the stone walled room. Everything looked so…dull and gray. The curtains surrounding the bed were a deep burgundy, but they were covered in a thick layer of dust…or at least Ellen thought was dust at first. When she touched the curtain, it was like touching winter’s first frost. That was definitely not dust…

She pulled her hand back, almost painfully. No, not pain. Not really. She was just surprised. Ellen knew she wasn’t supposed to feel anything. She was…

She couldn’t even bring herself to think it, let alone say it. Her memory was a bit fuzzy, like looking through a dusty window, but she remembered how everything felt. It was coming back, slowly but surely as she gained more awareness, as each of her senses came to life…or perhaps unlife was the better term. 

There was something warm at her feet, something soft. Something…breathing? What did anything here have any need for breath? How curious…

She was almost afraid to look, but was pleasantly surprised when she did. A large black dog laid at her feet, curled up as if attempting to keep them warm. He was shaggy, with long hair and a rather large yet strong body. The ears were triangular, relaxed in a sleeping state and yet so acutely aware. Curious and a little afraid, Ellen reached a hand out to touch the sleeping dog at her feet, moving a little so she could pet his fur. He wasn’t cold, unlike the rest of the room it seemed. It felt like he was…alive almost. She heard a soft ruff from the animal and pulled her hand away as he raised his head. Her eyes found the silver-gold orbs of the canine, and he let out a soft whine. 

“Hello there, beauty” Ellen reached her hand out again and petted the dog softly between his ears, “Were you with me this whole time?” she asked, as if he could answer. 

The dog wagged his tail, panting softly as if to tell her he did in fact stay with her. He was awfully calm and gentle for such a large animal. Ellen wasn’t used to dogs, though she had a few of them growing up. Felines were more of her interest, as she liked their independent nature. However, she wouldn’t deny that there was indeed a sort of charm to this dog in particular. 

“Such a good boy. Thank you” Ellen whispered softly as she petted his back and shoulders, “Now I just…need to figure out where I am”. 

She stretched a little and got up, finally pulling the frosted burgundy curtain aside to finally get a glimpse of the room. Just like the rest of the world, it was so…dreary. Everything seemed to be dipped in varying shades of blue and gray. But it seemed the room had everything Ellen needed: bed, wardrobe, a rather nice if antique vanity, a small bookcase full of various books, on top of which were, strangely, various tiny figurines and dolls from her childhood. Things Ellen thought she forgot a long, long time ago. Literally a lifetime ago in this case. 

“A place where things go when they’re forgotten, perhaps” Ellen wondered aloud as she stood from the bed, the dog following close behind her. 

She touched one of the figurines, a little fairy in a white dress with dark hair. Her father had gotten it for her, calling it a miniature version of her. Ellen remembered she had thought that humorous as a child, but now it seemed he hadn’t been completely wrong. To be honest, she didn’t know exactly what she was anymore, nor was she entirely sure it mattered now. 

Not now. Not that she was…

She still couldn’t bring herself to think it. Guilt fed like a ravenous beast in the back of her mind. She had left Thomas. She chose the monster who plagued her for her entire life over him. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right. But at the same time, it had to be done. She had to do it, to end the beast’s reign of terror.

A harsh blast of cold pulled her from her gnawing guilt, her thoughts stopping for all of a moment, before she knew: She wasn’t alone, and it wasn’t just the dogs. Ellen held the figurine tightly in her hand, as though somehow it would protect her. It couldn’t be…could it? She watched him perish. 

Held him as he perished…

The memory of that last, final moment, that last breath ran through her mind. Ellen held him, trying to somehow convey thoughts of comfort and reassurance despite the pain he felt. 

“It’s okay…” she remembered thinking, “It’s okay…we’re together now…let go…let go…” She remembered thinking as the beast, the Count, bled out all over her and her bed.

Ellen blinked, her thoughts coming back to the present. She dared not turn around, the dog at her feet staying close by, but not as guarded. She closed her eyes tight, trying to think of something that didn’t scare her. There was no way he could be here…surely there wasn’t…

“You are…awake” his voice was an all too familiar sound, though it sounded different now. 

He sounded different. Gone was the deep wheezing caused by lungs that no longer functioned. The growl was still there but not as prominent. The accent was the same, and it was still slightly monotone…slightly. It wasn’t unpleasant, per se. Just…something Ellen wanted to leave behind her. But it seemed the higher powers, who or whatever they were, had some other ill plan for her and the Beast. 

“Get out…” Ellen said quietly, not even looking at him. 

She could feel his ice cold glare at her back. “You…do not…command me-”. 

“I said get out…now!” Ellen dared to cut him off with a harsher tone. 

She heard a growl, but didn’t dare turn around. She would not look at him, refused to face him. The large black dog laid quiet at her feet, ears flat, torn between two masters. Ellen shook her head, her eyes closed tight as if she were in some sort of nightmare. 

“Shall you deny me now?! After everything I’ve done?! After I pulled you from Chaos?! This is my repayment?!” the Beast demanded, “After what you did to me?!” 

“I had to do it. To save everyone…” she said, “You would’ve killed everyone! Everyone! And i was supposed to sit there idle and let you-”. 

“Ah still a neat little trick you do little one…You close off your mind and lies spew from your mouth like venom!” 

“I’m not lying!”

“About your intentions! You didn’t do what you did to save everyone. You joined with me because you wanted to”. 

“And once more you are a deceiver! If I have a serpent’s venom, then you speak with a serpent’s tongue!” . 

“And once more you deceive only yourself, suflet mic!”. 

Ellen shuddered at the nickname. “Don’t you ever call me that again! You lost the right to call me that years ago!”. 

Suflet mic…

It meant “Little Soul” in Romanian. He had once used it as a term of endearment for her, when they first found each other. He hadn’t called her that in years, not since he stopped coming to her after she married Thomas. 

A cold silence overtook the room. The air was icy with both his presence and her hatred. Ellen trembled from the sheer force of it. Her hands balled into fists, even around the little fairy figurine. 

“I said leave. You are not welcome in this space…you will NEVER be welcome in this space!” Ellen yelled, tempted to turn around and throw the figurine at him. However, she refrained…just barely. 

Without her permission, he couldn’t stay in her room, her space. This was hers and hers alone. It was one of the few rules of this place: Neither could enter the other’s space once it was established to them without consent. He stepped away from her, his footfall heavy. The Beast peered down at the black dog. 

“Furie, ține-o în siguranță…” He commanded as he left the room, compelled by this strange realm’s magic and rules. 

The dog, Furie apparently, barked in response. He would be her faithful guardian, not that there was much that could harm her here. But even so…the last thing he needed was Ellen finding her way back to the waters of Chaos. 

Away from Him…

And ultimately lost to time…

The thought disturbed Orlok in a way he had never known. To be dead was one thing, but to be lost and forgotten was a whole other fear. Chaos could take him if fate demanded, but he would not spend eternity where she wasn’t there. He told her Ever Eternally…and he meant it. She was his until Chaos decided to call for them both. If and when that ever happened…

Thanks so much for reading guys! Please don't forget to like, reblog, and comment! Your support means the world to me ^-^

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I wanted to wait til I had a few chapters done but...I know a lot of yall are waiting on this so...

Here is the prologue! Short and kinda sweet but I hope you guys like it anyway! 💜🖤💜

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

If you'd like to be added to the taglist feel free to let me know ^-^

Without further ado:

Exile: A Nosferatu Fanfic

Prologue

I can see you standing honey, with his arms around your body. Laughing but the joke's not funny at all…

Cold…

Cold was what surrounded her on all sides. The deepest cold she had ever felt. Impossibly cold. It was all Ellen could think of as she laid there, her eyes unfeeling, body unmoving and yet somehow drifting. She wasn't moving and yet it felt like she was floating downward.

Sinking…

Sinking into the cold, inky blackness. No direction, no way of knowing where she was or what was happening. Ellen felt like a fallen leaf, drifting through an icy river, prepared to let it rip her apart. She opened her arms, feeling the impossible cold flow through and over her. She still couldn't see, everything was so, so dark…

Peace…

There was a sort of peace that came with the drifting. Her mind was blank. A painless nothingness had overtaken her. Acceptance threaded its way through her as her mind eased away. Images of her life flashed in her mind's eye: from her mother's death, to warm summer days in the sun, to her wedding…the happiest day of her life.

Thomas…

Her sweet beloved Thomas…

She was gone and he was alone now…

Ellen had left him alone. How could she? Why did she do it? To be the hero? To save everyone? For some half noble purpose? No…not completely. It wasn't all completely altruistic. Not all heroic. Ellen knew, from the deepest part of her, she did it to free herself. Chose to die, to save everyone and herself. And she knew it. The terror began with her, so it had to end with her.

Did it work? She had no way of knowing. And in the moment, with her mind gone and body drifting through cold darkness, Ellen didn't care. She would've been horrified, if she could feel it…

“No…i…will never…let go!” A voice, horrific like a half dying, mourning animal, sounded in her ears, piercing her mind like a large sharp needle.

She felt a hand, as cold as the darkness, grab her arm. There was a rush of cold, exhilarating and terrible all at once, before she broke through shattering, glassy ice. Ellen still found she could not see. All around her was white, all the world covered and suffocated by deep snow.

Her mind was slowly coming back. Dreadfully. No…no she didn't want it back, didn't want to feel these things! No! No no no no! Her entire body and mind raged and fought but it was like a pair of strong, icy arms held her firmly against a solid body.

“No! Stop! STOOOOOOP!”.

The roar sounded again before she fell back into darkness, her mind going blissfully unaware once more…

If you guys enjoyed this please like, comment, and reblog! This is gonna be a long fic and I honestly need all the encouragement I can get! Thank you and I hope you're having an awesome day/night! ^-^

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So...I have a new fanfic I'm about to start working on because I have a new obsession and I'm going to inflict it on you all!

Exile: A Nosferatu Fanfic

Summary: they died together, so it's only natural they wind up in the same afterlife right? Spending eternity with the monster she helped destroy isn't Ellen Hutter's idea of heaven. Neither is it the Count's. But when fate has a plan, who can possibly fight or resist it? Can these two souls learn to co-exist? Or will past actions, and unspoken grief, tear them further apart?

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Guests For Dinner

(ANOES)

-/-

(A/N: This is a part two to my ‘What You Wanted’ ANOES fic, inspired by the show Wandavision! Suggested by my lovely Tumblr Wife @caddy-crystal-queen !)

-/-

In a remote little corner of America lies Springwood, Ohio. Springwood was a town like any other, with loving, Ordinary families making their homes there.

One such family was having guests over for dinner.

“Honey! I really don’t know what you’re so upset about. I invited Mr. And Mrs. Smith over for dinner, not to move in. They have a little boy the same age as the twins, you know.”

Mr’s. Krueger flitted around the kitchen preparing for their guests, and Mr. Krueger watched with annoyance. He contemplated what his wife had said for a moment.

“Well I still don’t like them. They’re…Nosy. And Obnoxious.” He grumbled.

Mrs. Kreuger chuckled, kissing him on the cheek.

“Play nice. It’s only for one evening.”

…

Later, with dinner ready and the table set, the doorbell rang. Mrs. Kreuger brushed imaginary dirt from her light green dress, answering it.

The neighbors, Nancy and Quinten Smith, were a strange pair. They both seemed anxiety ridden, and even a little manic. Their eyes were just a tad too wide, with matching touches of darkness under them, as if they were sleep deprived. But they seemed very kind and even Artistic. Their son was the spitting image of his parents, quiet and innocently strange.

“Hi! It’s so nice to finally get to meet you properly. Your home is beautiful.” Nancy smiled kindly.

“Thank you so much! It’s nice to have new neighbors with a kid! Our twins have been anxious to meet your son.”

Mrs. Krueger called the two little girls down from their room upstairs. The pair appeared silently, sitting at the table without introducing themselves.

“They’re Quiet.” Mr. Krueger said, leaning in the doorframe.

He ushered the Smiths into the dining room with a smile that did not meet his eyes.

…

A little while later, they were all sitting around the table, Mrs. Krueger chatting away, seemingly oblivious that there was an awkward air in the room. Mr. Krueger drummed his fingers absently in annoyance. The Smiths just seemed lost.

Suddenly, the young boy screeched in delight, pointing at something through the back window.

“Mommy! It’s a doggy!” He exclaimed. “Can I go play with him?”

The formerly silent twin girls snapped their heads up to stare at him in unison.

“No. Rufus is mean. He bites.” They said, again in unison. “He bit Daddy. We saw it.”

“Shut up, you little brats. I should have never gotten that stupid dog for you in the first place.” Their father said angrily.

“We hate you!” They screeched back.

There was silence. For a long, long moment.

“Go to your room.” Mr. Krueger said quietly.

The twins didn’t obey, glaring defiantly. After another moment, their father huffed angrily, waving his hand toward them.

And that was when all hell broke loose.

The twins flew into the air, hitting the ceiling and falling down again, all the while screaming in anger.

“I said go to your room.”

The twins were flung up the stairs by an unseen force, the slam of the bedroom door behind them.

“Honey, don’t do that. They didn’t mean any harm. They’re just adjusting to the new house.” Mrs. Kreuger said soothingly, coming behind him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders soothingly.

“They’re tough. They can handle it.” He grumbled back.

The Smiths were dumbfounded, their son now crying from the commotion.

“I think… I think we’re going to go. It seems like you have your hands full.” Mr. Smith said as his wife helped their son with his jacket.

“Oh I’m absolutely devastated.” Mr. Krueger muttered sarcastically.

Nancy sent her son to wait by the door, shooting a look at her old enemy.

“What’s your game? Are those little girls-“ she began, a look from Freddy telling her everything she needed to know. “And who is she? Does she even know-“

It was Mrs. Krueger who looked angry now.

“I am his wife, thank you very much, and I think You all need to tell me what’s going on!” She said sternly, her eyes wide and confused.

“Your husband is a murderer. He haunts peoples dreams, and drives them crazy. And then he kills them. You’re dreaming. We all are. He’s tricking you!” Nancy blurted.

Mrs. Krueger blinked a few times, looking dumbfounded. Something in the earnestness of Mrs. Smith’s words made Mrs. Kreuger feel uneasy.

“She’s lying.” Fred Krueger glared daggers through the Smiths.

“What do you remember? Do you remember how you two met? Your wedding? Getting this house? Anything?” Quinten asked Mrs. Kreuger.

She looked to her husband warily. He stepped between his wife and their neighbors.

“Get out. Take your kid, take your… wife… and get out of my house.” Mr. Krueger said through gritted teeth.

“Please, just come with us, we can prove everything we’re saying.” Nancy said to Mrs. Krueger.

She didn’t have time to respond before her husband flicked his wrist, sending the front door flying open and all three of the Smiths flying out of it by force before it slammed shut.

“Oh my God.”

Mrs. Krueger had tears streaming down her face.

“She’s right, isn’t she? Who are those people? Why do they know you? And why can’t I remember anything before moving in here?” Mrs. Kreuger demanded.

Thinking back, Mrs. Kreuger remembered a feeling. A deep, burning ache in her chest and the feeling of utter betrayal.

“Don’t do this.” Her husband pleaded.

“You… you died. You died… and I was distraught. I was crying. You were… you were burned. You had that awful thing on your hand. Oh my God. Tell me you didn’t…”

Warm, inviting hands held her face now.

“It’s alright. Look at me. Don’t worry about that. You’re not supposed to remember that. I should have never let them in this house.” Freddy murmured soothingly.

“You don’t get to decide what I do and don’t remember!”

Mrs. Kreuger’s words were cut off by lips pressing into hers firmly. The feeling of warmth melted through her confusion and fear for a few moments and by the time their lips parted, she didn’t even really remember what they’d been talking about.

“….. What was I saying again? Oh, yeah… it’s such a shame the new neighbors had to leave. They seemed nice.” She smiled up adoringly at her husband. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, honey, I’m just tired. How about we get the girls tucked in and go to bed?” He replied.

“I’ll go get them into Pajamas and tuck them in if you pour me a glass of

And with that, the evening had become a blur, and everything was exactly the way it should be.

-/-

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What you wanted

(Pairing: Freddy Krueger X Reader)

(Synopsis: Mourning the loss of a love never requited, A young Teacher is tormented by nightmares. Perhaps some old flames keep burning for longer than intended.)

(Warnings: Violence, slight body horror, cursing, mention of both murder and suicide)

—/—

“They’re saying he locked himself inside an abandoned building and set the place on fire.” Gwen Holbrooke said, conspiracy in her tone. “He was… a very disturbed man. They’re saying he might have something to do with those twins going missing…..”

He set himself on fire.

It hit her like a ton of bricks. The man she’d been too shy to carry on any lengthy conversation with, but whom she’d spent countless hours fawning over like an idiot. Just… gone.

Sure, she knew he was a little eccentric, if not completely hopeless at any social interaction. And he was a lonely man, with nobody and nothing he really had any attachment to other than his work. But it broke her heart to think he’d so such a thing, much less because he was running from something wrong he’d done. Not when she’d been so close to finally getting close enough to him to break through his strange outer shell and get to know him.

“…I have to go.”

Hanging up the phone, tears were already streaking down her face.

Nothing could have prepared her for this strange sort of grief. The grief of knowing so little about someone, yet loving everything she did know about him so completely and effortlessly, and then finding out it was all a lie. That he was never as kind, or as thoughtful, or as gentle as she’d let herself believe. He was a monster.

After what seemed like an eternity, eyes red and puffy, a sound broke through (Y/N)’s morbid train of thought.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re kind of pretty when you cry?”

A voice, small, almost but not quite quiet, with the ghost of an accent lost in his childhood. But this voice was colder. Deeper. More condescending.

Standing in the doorframe was something that might have once been Fred Krueger. It stood taller, prouder than she’d ever seen him stand, and on his hand was a glove fitted with long, Vulgar looking razor blades. It wore Fred Krueger’s hat, pulled lowly, almost shadowing its face.

Or rather… lack thereof.

Two piercing, blue eyes glimmered playfully from within the hollow, burned, and bloody shell of a face.

“What? Do I have something on my…” it felt its face gingerly, feigning confusion, then enlightenment. “Oh! I can fix this.”

It then started peeling flesh off of its face and head and dropping it onto the floor in pieces.

(Y/N) watched in horror as this thing ripped off it’s Face, and then scalp, and slowly, agonizingly and disgustingly, morphed itself back into a perfectly live looking Man. Into a perfectly live looking man who had previously been dead.

“Better?”

Seeing him like this terrified her. She could still smell the burning flesh… or what had been left of it.

“What happened to those little girls? Did you do something to them? What did you do? Did you kill them?” But (Y/N) already knew the answer.

Freddy laughed. It was then kind of wheezing, baffled sort of laugh that meant “Are you serious?”

(Y/N) could hardly breathe, the sound of boots stepping forward like a death march echoed in her head.

“Of course I did. They would have grown up to be awful, ugly little things. Trust me. I saved them. I gave them their youth, and their little curls, and their cute little fucking dimples forever. They’ll never know what pain really is. They never even felt it.”

His tone softened one of reverence.

“Let me show you. Death is so easy. It’s just like falling asleep. It’s like dreaming.”

“What are you talking about? I don’t want to die!”

The smell of smoke invaded (Y/N)’s nose as fingers covered her lips gently. The feeling of his skin against hers was making her head swim.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?”

He shifted himself onto the couch above her, tangling their limbs so she couldn’t go anywhere. Her eyes squeezed shut, her face red and burning.

“Didn’t you want me? Like this? With you?”

Soft, unbelievably soft lips trailed along her jaw to her own lips, turning her mind into a puddle.

She had wanted this. For a long time. And so what if it was a little different than she imagined? It felt good. It felt right.

And suddenly, she saw red. A sharp ache burst through her chest like a bomb. And then that bomb burst into four separate tiny bombs ripping through her ribcage. Hot, thick blood drenched them both as she gasped.

A voice, cold as ice, and sweeter than any honey she’d ever tasted murmured softly in her ear.

“…Say ‘hi’ to the girls for me. They’ve been asking for a new Mother.”

—/—

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Slow burn but it's written by an impatient person