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#crimson peak au
lukasadss · 1 month
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Re-watched Crimson Peak, had a thought
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coffeebookslovegt · 11 months
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“Cosas como recuerdos, sentimientos, personas. Algunas son buenas, otras malas… y otras… otras no deberían mencionarse nunca más”
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dandelion-wings · 7 months
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Tonight's not-so-much-warm-up-as-wind-down presented with absolutely no context, except a warning for non-graphic but extensively discussed domestic violence/child abuse. There's an establishing backstory fic-bit in my head that I have absolutely no time to write any time soon, but this was much shorter and a good mental cooldown, so have a very AU version of teenage Jean being talked into a bit of vigilanteism!
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Jean catches Kaeya and Rosaria going out the window of one of the storerooms on the cathedral's upper floor.
Rosaria has her spear with her, and Kaeya his sword. That only makes certain what Jean has suspected for a while--that their pretense of hiding away to fondle each other has been exactly that. No matter what they say, she can tell that Kaeya is comfortable with Rosaria in the same way he is with her, different only in degree, not kind. His affection is a false front, overblown, and Rosaria has never sold the lie at all. There's something else they're up to.
"Where are you going?"
Rosaria pauses with one foot on the window, reaching back to grip the haft of her spear where it's strapped to back, though Jean is certain she wouldn't actually draw it. Kaeya looks back and smiles at her, theatrically sheepish.
"We're just looking for a little privacy."
"With your weapons on you?"
"Sister Victoria does say it's dangerous out there at night."
"Kaeya-"
"We're going to put the fear of Barbatos in Gottleib Spitz," Rosaria says shortly, over her shoulder. "You can help, or you can stay out of the way."
Jean frowns. She doesn't have to ask why. "That's something the Knights of Favonius should be taking care of."
"Unfortunately," Kaeya says, "they seem to be falling down on the job."
"If we could just get a report filed-"
"Elsa has lied to them the last three times she's come in here. If it was just her, I wouldn't care." That's a lie and Jean knows it; Rosaria had dug in too determinedly with all her questions about the reporting process and why the Knights couldn't just take the nuns' word over Elsa's, the first time the woman came in with her bruises and her flimsy lies, not to care. "But now that he's putting Clara in the same state, that's not just her business anymore."
She isn't wrong. Jean knows what she'd seen last time, when the senior nuns handed Clara off to her to heal while they tried to badger Elsa into finally reporting her husband to the knights. Kaeya had seen it too, when he sat down to entertain Clara for her while she worked. All Rosaria would have had to do was look at their faces while Clara was distracted to know what kinds of injuries Jean was tending.
"Under other circumstances, the Knights might take the same stance," Kaeya adds, soothing, as if he thinks Jean's objection here is the offense to the Knights. "But given everything that's going on, they must be stretched a little too thin. It only makes sense for the Church to step in while they're overextended."
"By terrorizing Gottleib Spitz in the middle of the night?"
Rosaria rolls her eyes. "By dealing with someone who hurts kids the way he deserves to be dealt with. Isn't that what you got your Vision for, anyway?"
Jean's breath catches at the careless cruelty of Rosaria's words. That isn't what she did--that wasn't what her mother was. Her mother was grieving, and hurt, and had no one giving her (them) the help that she (that they) needed to deal with the weight of all that grief. That things came to a head the way they did wasn't anyone's fault, except maybe Jean's.
"I wouldn't put it that way," Kaeya says, catching something of that protest in her expression before she can find the words to make it. "But you've said yourself that it's your duty to Barbatos to protect the innocent and defend the weak. Leaving the Spitz situation alone won't help anyone."
"Unless you want to wait until Clara ends up in the same position as your sister," Rosaria adds.
"That wasn't necessary," Jean snaps, but already the breath is coming back into her lungs, determination flowing with it. "Just let me get my catalyst. I'll come with you."
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phoenixyfriend · 11 months
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[knocks back a drink] gender-adjusted Crimson Peak plot, Mortis sibs as the impoverished patricians, Obi-Wan as the latest husband that Dot (Daughter) has taken for The Money
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captastra · 26 days
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Crimson Peak AU? 👀
Ok so I love crimson peak so so much and any ship is going to get a gothic au setting no matter what.
For this one specifically it has Lethyan with both Calcazar and Heinrix, where Lethyan marries Calcazar while Heinrix secretly pines for her. They all head off to this mansion in the middle of nowhere and ends with a big twist and tragic ending for Lethyan and Calcazar.
Idk if I'll get around to it, but it would be similar in story where there is a love story with ghosts.
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nildespirandum · 1 year
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Hi today is a slow, rainy day here, so I was planning to turn to two of my comfort reads, The Bottom of the Hourglass and Perfection. May I ask you where do Kay and Alice come from? I love them.
What a lovely Ask to get on what is also a rainy, slow day here (my favorite kind of day, as it happens). It gave me a jolt of pure joy to read this.
Oh, where or where did my girls come from...
It is easier for me to answer that question about Kay, because Kay came from two places primarily. One was from at the time newish job at the bookstore I now work at. It was the first time longer than I wanted to think about that I had worked at a store that I truly loved, and in fact the whole idea for The Bottom of the Hourglass came from my not realizing that a coworker had come in and out of a normally locked door into the store and my seeing leaves and rain on the floor. At the same time one of the songs that was used in OLLA - Funnel of Love - played in the store.
I have worked with so many fantastic, brilliant, too smart, too well read, and too plain weird booksellers over my career, many of whom were also deeply invested in their personal styles, so Kay is a little bit of seven or so of the put together.
The other influence for her is I have this headcanon that Wes Anderson's movies and Jim Jarmusch's take place in the same world. Their aesthetics and obsessions are like mirror twins. So I loved the idea of what would happen if a character out of one of Anderson's movies, and one from one of Jarmusch's fell in love? Kay is my Wes Anderson character.
Interestingly, her face claim - and some of her style - is my beloved Alice Quinn from The Magicians, which is the character that Alice from Perfection got her name from.
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Alice, where did Alice come from? I know that the first inspiration for her was I wanted her to be a visual artist, a painter, because it felt to me that in Crimson Peak one of the things that made the connection between Sir Thomas and Edith was that they were both creators. The both wanted to put something into the world.
I of course wanted her to be from Chicago both because I love my home city, but also because I have read a LOT of history of the city from the turn of the last century. Additionally, the connection between London and Chicago by way of Harry Selfridge and that Marshall Field who Selfridge became a junior partner to - who Alice's father Oscar is very, very remotely based on - was wildly rich by the standards of the time so I could set her up in style.
As far as the specifics of her character, the first time I pictured her I saw her limping, and I knew that this was someone who despite having all of the advantages a woman of her time could have, was also someone who understood struggling. Struggling to be seen for what she could do rather than what she could buy. Struggling to bring the beauty inside of her mind out into the world in a tangible way. Struggling in a physical way. Struggling and working and never letting herself stop.
All of which would give her the kind of strength you would need to love a man with powerful demons, a man in capable of loving himself.
But in both cases, they both came from themselves, each one revealing herself to me as I wrote them. Telling me about the families that formed them, their backgrounds and tastes, and what they love and what they hate.
If any of that makes sense.
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phoebegracegrey · 11 months
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Flaming Memories
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lady-rose-moon · 2 years
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I told you, you're so different
Summary: In which Sir Thomas Sharpe, Baronet was actually Loki Laufeyson in disguise. What if Edith was someone even she didn't know about?
A/N: Hi everyone, sorry for the lack of updates. I have been sick for the past four days and had to sleep it all off but I am on the mend and so, back at my desk and writing more! Part Two of Give Her Back will take a while because it will go through all of the events of WandaVision, part two ending on 80's Wanda and Y/N and Part 3 starting from then on and also Multiverse of Madness. So, yes, they will be huge fics. If you didn't sign up for that, my apologies... Anyway! Enjoy this!
Warnings: angst, fluff, Lucille Sharpe
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So ghosts were real, she had suspected as such. Ever since she was younger and saw her mother who had warned her of Crimson Peak and again before her father died, Edith believed in ghosts.
Writing her novel about the ghosts being a metaphor was her way of coping with what she saw as a child. Maybe, if Edith put it down in writing that the ghosts were metaphors; her own experience would become one.
After marrying Sir Thomas Sharpe and moving to Allerdale Hall, things had started to go wrong and the love of her life had turned out to be nothing other than an incestuous man who was marrying women for their money and having his sister murder them soon after.
Promptly after discovering the dark truth, Lucille Sharpe had tried to kill her too but Thomas had, surprisingly, stood between them. It lead to his death and Edith couldn't help but feel a little bit honoured that Thomas went to such lengths to save her life.
Standing over Lucille's crumpled form with a shovel, Edith stared at the white ghost in front of her that had to be her late husband. Her lip trembled as she walked closer and lifted a hand to stroke his cheek gently, frowning when her hand passed through his cheek and the image of him distorted where her hand was. Thomas leaned into her touch as much as he could and gave her a mournful frown before disappearing into the wind.
That was years ago now and while Edith had married Alan just two years after the incident, she never forgot her time with the Baronet. He had changed her life and she was determined to never have children with Alan. The doctor understood and respected her wishes. The Cushing line would end with Edith and Eunice would carry on the McMichael name with her new husband.
However, on Edith's deathbed, she did not account for the fact that she might reunite with her late husband and he would have to deal with the fact that he was so easily replaced by Alan. He wasn't but Thomas's self-doubt, though hidden perfectly, was always something Edith had wanted to help him with.
With her hand in Alan's, she smiled up at the ceiling of the hospital, accepting her passing. It was 1948, January 23rd. Thomas's birthday. While struggling with her illness, Edith heard the voice of her father calling her but also the distant laughter of Thomas that she thought she would never hear again even in Crimson Peak.
It was quiet when she passed, painless. She had thought she would wake up in Heaven where her father would be waiting for her but instead, she found herself standing on a bridge. It was coloured like a rainbow, leading down to an observatory and then travelling into the golden city. Perhaps, Edith wondered, this was heaven? The people who wrote the bible had never been to it so maybe, just maybe, this was Heaven.
Grabbing her golden skirts, she headed down the bridge into the city. Absently, Edith admired how she had her youth back. She was young again, her hair missing greys that had come over time. The bridge was slippery but by staying in the middle, she was able to keep her balance. Perhaps even Heaven gets rain? That must be the reason.
As she was walking through the marketplace, Edith smiled at all the things for sale as if she was fascinated by the fact that even Heaven had markets for souls to carry on their practice after death. Smiling, Edith carried on her journey and talked with merchants about what they were selling.
All throughout the market, she heard people yelling to grab shoppers' attention.
"Come buy your state-of-the-art linens! Best in Asgard!"
"Come try the best pies of Asgard! Just two gold pieces!"
"Come get the morning paper! Prince Loki part of scandal yet again!"
Edith had never heard of 'Asgard' before, never mind it being a name for Heaven. And also, who was Prince Loki? Edith was pretty sure the Bible depicted Heaven as a peaceful place where God ruled with his son, Jesus. She had never heard of a 'Loki' before.
Suddenly, a voice filled her ears that she thought she would never hear again and she snapped her head to the right and saw a blonde man with a slightly smaller black-haired man at a stall just parallel to her. Though his hair was shorter, slicked back, Edith would never forget his jawline and the smile on his face.
"Thomas?" Edith mumbled, staring at him in disbelief. She had thought that he wouldn't make it to Heaven because of his crimes back in Allerdale but really, when she thought about it, he just married the women and left them for Lucille to kill.
At hearing a familiar voice, the raven-haired man's head looked around curiously before his eyes locked onto Edith's and the world around them stopped. He turned his head away to say a quick goodbye to the blonde before making his way over to Edith.
While walking through the crowd, the pair never once took their eyes off each other. Meeting him in the middle, Edith looked up into his eyes and reached up to cup his cheek, him leaning into it with a small smile on his face.
"Edith," he whispered gently, his voice not even different from how it used to be and it brought Edith to tears as she smiled up at him, nodding eagerly.
"Thomas," she breathed, pulling her hand away from his face so she could wrap her arms around his waist and hug him tight, resting her head on his chest.
They held each other for a long while until the blonde came over and grumbled, "Loki, who is this? You're not one to take wenches, brother."
Loki snarled and conjured up a dagger, holding it to the blonde's throat with a deep glare in his eyes, "do not call my wife a wench, Thor."
The blonde- Thor, looked confused before tilting his head curiously as he looked at Edith, "you took a bride again, Loki? You said after your last dare that you would never go to Midgard again."
Loki frowned and held Edith tighter, rubbing her back gently before glaring at Thor, "let's not do this in the market. Edith, come with us."
Nodding, Edith followed the two men up to the large golden castle and when she stepped inside, she immediately felt that she did not belong in such a grand palace. Loki, noticing her anxiety, smiled and held her waist as they walked to his study and he kissed her head gently.
So she had met Thomas again and the blonde man who she now knew as Thor had not only called him 'Loki' but had also called him 'brother'. What the hell was going on? Edith was starting to think that she was more than likely dreaming rather than actually being dead. In a moment, she will wake up again and be in her bed with Alan by her side, holding her hand and whispering sweet nothings to her.
Only, that didn't happen.
They entered Loki's study and Loki sat down on one of the grand sofas, pulling Edith down beside him as he smiled lovingly at her, Edith smiling back at him in disbelief. Thomas was here and she was happy! There was no sight of his incestuous sister either! Bonus!
"So," Thor started, looking at the couple with barely hidden curiosity, "when did this begin?"
Loki sighed and held Edith's hands, looking deep into her eyes with a smile on his face, "please don't stab me with a pen when I tell this story, okay?"
Edith laughed at the reminder of how silly it was to threaten Thomas with a pen but it was the best she had at that time. She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, "just tell the story, Thomas."
Loki smiled at her and took a deep breath before looking at Thor, "the reason why I do not to dares with you anymore is because of this lovely lady. You don't know how the last dare you made me do went and that is because I fell in love. I was known as Sir Thomas Sharpe, Baronet of Allerdale Hall. I started life off right from the start without my memories but before I was killed by my incestuous sister, I regained my memories and magic and I cast an illusion of me dying. In my life, I married four times, three times for money and I married Edith for love. Lucille didn't like that. Edith was a tough little wonder and managed to kill Lucille. I don't blame you, Edith," Loki mumbled, turning back to Edith, "for remarrying."
Edith hung her head and sighed as she dropped her hand from Loki's, missing the broken look he gave her from the gesture, "lying again. Thomas, how am I supposed to trust you? Who are you?"
Loki sighed softly before slipping off the sofa and kneeling in front of her with his hands holding hers desperately, "I am Loki Odinson, God of Mischief, lies and stories. Lucille didn't know. I didn't know until moments before I died. Then I regained all of my memories."
Edith sighed and smiled sadly as she reached out and cupped his cheek again, him eagerly leaning into her warm touch, "I shouldn't trust you so quickly, Thomas. It was dangerous last time."
Loki smiled fondly and turned his head to kiss her palm, his hand holding hers on his cheek as he met her eyes, "Lucille isn't here."
"Where even is here?" Edith asked and looked around the study as Loki chuckled and helped her up, walking her over to a floor to ceiling window to show her the kingdom.
"This is Asgard, Edith," Loki whispered as he held her from behind, resting his head on hers and smiling as she gasped, watching the people walking in the market.
Edith smiled as she watched the people of Asgard go about their daily jobs before she turned in Loki's arms and wrapped her arms around his neck, "but how am I here? I remember dying."
Loki sighed softly and leant down to kiss her forehead gently, "it's the last spell I made as Sir Thomas. I searched your blood and found a being that I thought had disappeared years ago. A past love of mine. Sigyn Iwaldidottir. I used a spell that would bring out the Goddess in you when you died."
Edith's body tensed up at that. Goddess!? That sounded so strange coming from his mouth and Edith felt in her heart that he was telling the truth, "Thomas, I'm not a Goddess... I'm just a girl you met in Buffalo that stopped you from marrying Eunice for money."
Loki laughed softly and kissed her temple gently, "it'll take a while to get used to but I assure you, you are Asgardian, Edith. I told you, "you're so different."
Edith looked up at him and smiled lovingly as she stood up on her tip-toes to kiss him tenderly, his arms holding her tighter and their eyes fluttering closed.
On the day of Thor's coronation, Frost Giants were never let into Asgard. Loki didn't feel jealousy for his brother when he had his Edith by his side.
On December 17th 2008, Loki celebrated his birthday and also the wedding to his beloved Edith.
On January 23rd 2011, you and Loki welcomed your daughter, Selena, into the world.
On July 17th 2014, Loki was told the truth of his heritage. Edith helped him heal from the shock with their daughter by moving to Midgard.
While on Midgard, on December 17th, Edith brought their son, Thomas, into the world. Loki decided that their little family should move to Midgard and try a 'normal' life.
Life was perfect. Baronet turned Prince with his wife and their two children.
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helianskies · 1 year
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liking the idea of a Crimson Peak au in which England would be Edith, Portugal would be Thomas, and Spain would be Lucille. i have thought little else beyond it - details, tweaks, etc. but whenever i watch the film i see these guys instead and it just makes me feel some things . . .
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little-miss-mash · 1 year
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Worm Crimson Peak AU
Cant say all the details off the top of my head, but absolutely horrifying. Classic worm trigger warning. Everyone has thier powers, still victorian era.
Amy is our Lucille and Vic is deeply unfortunately our thomas- but specifically she’s a version of herself that’s being mind-wrecked to love amy (looks normal but fucked in the head. Sveta is our Edith. Robot body version. Yes i ship sveta and vic, replace sveta with whoever you ship vic with, ashley or lisa
I’m thinking about Amy’s dialogue that everything would be good and work out if she allowed herself to brainwash vic and thier parents and no one else, so this is kinda of about that. Instead of going into town Vic and sveta spend a night away at the nearby Dallons residence, where the letter was sent (plot reasons). The dallons are all a little mind foggy about vic and amy’s relationship. They become confused and irritated when asked but clear up the second the subjects passed. Shitty mind tweaking there, amy.
Amy has moved on from rodents and bugs and dogs and cats and is trying to lure the BEST meat to continue sustaining vics life, which shes bonesaw-ing to be indestructible and perfect. She’s an absoutely terrible lucille- no charisma or backbone, she’s constantly trying to make vic placid and happy and every time she messes up she has to tackle her and brain tweak Vic to forget her horrifying actions. Vic acts like her canon self save for the fact that she gets a little foggy and confused when presented with some facts of her life. Constantly complaining about migranes. Has no memory of her Fragile One, and Amy is veyr sharply always looking around at creaks.
The main ghost in the setting is my beloved Fragile One in her wretch form, detached from Vic and desperately trying to get whoever edith is to see her and understand whats happening. The fragile one escaped from vics body and has been trying to save her from amy but (plot reasons) cant do much. The other ghosts are characters close to vic, chosen for arbitary good-meat reasons. Sveta, Vista, Anelace maybe
@brockton-breakers​ for kick-starting this idea
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dandelion-wings · 7 months
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What's the context for those excerpts?
I mean, I did say presented without context :P but also I do enjoy a ramble, so. Ideally I would have written the sort-of-intro I have for the universe, but that's going to be longer than I would have the time for this week even if I wasn't trying to actually finish a WIP before the end of October, so, alas, maybe someday.
In the meantime! This started life as a Crimson Peak AU, because some cool friends watched it and so I read the book so I could share in their enthusiasm XD and my Genshin brainrot is such that I try to hash any and all media into Genshin AUs, so. But it has turned to a canon-divergence AU from the girls' childhood, and also a sibling-swap!
I am putting a cut because the next two paragraphs contain a few spoilers for the movie/book. Also, as with the bitlets, warnings for domestic violence/child abuse mentions.
There is a Jean/Diluc/Kaeya version out there (feat. a grief-maddened Crepus trying to kill one of the boys to bring back his beloved) that runs much closer to the actual movie plot, but while we worked out the tragic backstory parallels for Jean and Barbara, Jean does not work nearly as well as Diluc as a brooding romantic hero who seduces rich paramours to steal their fortunes and then allows their more ruthless sibling to kill them.
The tragic backstory works so well, though. All you need is an abusive parent and a sibling determined enough to protect the other to kill them, so running with 'grief-maddened' as parental motive again, we had Seamus die protecting Barbara when she was very young, before whatever led to their divorce had developed in the relationship, presumed that Fredrica had truly loved him enough to be grief-maddened, and let her blame Barbara for it (she was, for the record, six), and then went from there!
In the version that turned into this AU, Fredrica's blame becomes her driving tiny Barbara way, way too hard in training and punishing her extra viciously for failure, in ways that are actively endangering her health and well-being, and in some of the sparring sessions actually threatening her life. (Fredrica does get thoroughly villainized for this, but that's the nature of the original source material, rip.) Jean, unable to stop her or to get anyone to intervene, decides she's going to take care of Barbara whatever it takes, and I'm still working out the exact shape of the scene, but I know that Fredrica tries to make Barbara keep training with a life-threatening wound, and when begging doesn't make her stop, twelve-year-old Jean gathers all her resolve and stabs her in the kidneys. Which gets her an Electro Vision, incidentally, we worked out elements today.
And then she heals Barbara with her new Vision (it's a lucky break, she hadn't been sure what she was going to do about that), marches down to the Ordo, and turns herself in directly to Varka. Who knew Fredrica was unbalanced and feels so guilty he can't, like, take her to court, so he manages to evade that by being like 'her Vision appearing proves her action was necessary and it was pure defense of another, we don't need to drag the eight-year-old who has now seen both her parents die in front of her through a trial,' but there have to be Consequences. Jean is stripped of her inheritance as a Gunnhildr and placed in the Church's custody, ostensibly as an orphan but with very restrictive rules because they are Watching Her.
Barbara, meanwhile, is Crepus' goddaughter, because I'm running with my "Seamus and Crepus were friends" headcanon, and once she got her way with Jean, Fredrica gave Seamus that as a concession. Crepus really wants Diluc, who is desperately lonely, to have a companion of equal rank that he can actually play with, and he also genuinely cared for Seamus and is genuinely concerned for Barbara, so he pulls that string and gets two birds with one throw! Neither Diluc nor Barbara want to consider the other siblings per se, because Jean is a very present ghost in that relationship, but they resolve this by Diluc swearing himself to her, in a very knightly style, as her protector in lieu of Jean until they both reach majority and are permitted to see each other again. He is acting on behalf of her big sister and that works for them both.
When Kaeya shows up all of a month later, Crepus has already satisfied his desire of getting Diluc a companion, and also is dealing with Barbara's incredible, massive PTSD and doesn't have the capacity for another sure-looks-traumatized kid. So Kaeya gets shuffled to... the Church orphanage! Where none of the other kids want to socialize with a weird twitchy foreign kid, and he ends up plopping himself down beside the other kid no one wants to socialize with. Because she killed her own mother. I am applying another of my pet headcanons here, the "Kaeya's mother turned into a monster" one, and so they have a conversation that goes approximately:
Jean: You don't want to be my friend. I killed my own mother. Kaeya: So did I. Jean: What? Why? Kaeya: She was turning into a monster. Jean: ...So was mine.
Anyway! Friendship accomplished. With the worst possible person with regards to his purported mission here, but Kaeya is, honestly, desperate for anyone to be nice to him, and Jean may be mired in guilt here (redoubled by the fact that she still can't think of anything better she could have done), but she is not going to be mean to this scared flinchy foreign kid who looks scared in so many of the same ways Barbara did. And then, like three or four years later, Varka dumps Rosaria on the Church as well, and she naturally gravitates to the "killed our own parents and also none of the other kids like us" club. XD
Anyway, things proceed as canon re: Ursa, and that's where we are as of the bitlets! Jean and Barbara, if it wasn't clear, are forbidden to contact each other at all until Barbara has reached her majority, and both are abiding by it for a couple reasons, including fear the other one will report them if they violate the rule, because they're both deeply attached to the idea of their sister they haven't seen in five years, but are also unhappily aware that neither of them know anything of what that sister is like now. :( Both hoping the other wants them back, but terrified that they won't.... Better to follow the rules, and put off the harsh reality.
(Rosaria thinks this is stupid and Jean should just sneak across town and rip off the bandage. Rosaria thinks a lot of Jean's feelings and fears are stupid. Jean did one badass thing at twelve and then let this purported 'civilization' Rosaria has been forced to join make her feel bad about it. Rosaria would still do a murder for Jean, mind XD she just has Opinions. Kaeya also has Opinions but unlike Rosaria keeps them to himself, because he's gotten pretty good at being the kind of diplomatic required from a brother in the Church, and would rather hatch plans about it than argue.)
(Eula, when she shows up in the Ordo a year later and is greeted by a young knight from the Logistics Company who holds out her hand to her when no one else is speaking to her and smiles (because it's what Jean would have done, Barbara thinks, and besides, given what happened in her family, she can hardly judge the Lawrences any longer), decides that if Jean is cruel to Barbara when they do reunite, she will make her pay, because Barbara is one of the few bright spots in an Ordo rotted hollow at the center, and she deserves better.)
(Diluc is on his murderventure, but has significantly more faith in both sisters than they have in themselves, and is a much more active correspondent with Barbara than he is with Kaeya in canon. Because he made her oaths, and it would be a betrayal of both his childhood friend and the girl who's become almost his sister to fail them.)
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jtownraindancer · 5 months
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A little moment I didn't catch the first time I watched this film but loved when I noticed it later: Mr. Holly admiring the model bridge and being embarrassed when Mr. Cushing catches him.
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marzipanandminutiae · 5 months
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Your tags "late to the incest with Starbucks" on that crimson peak post almost made me throw up laughing
"Thomas. You said you were going to get Starbucks at 3:30 and we were going to stroll through the park Not Holding Hands But With Sexual Tension at 4:00. It is 4:15. You are late. And you still have Starbucks."
(this sounds ominous but is, in fact, more in a hurt tone)
(would Thomas be a peppermint mocha or a sugar cookie latte man in the winter, is the real question)
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nildespirandum · 2 years
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18 + ONLY  (tags on AO3)
Remember, reblogs = love
Chapter 11
The Past is A Closed Door
Everything ends eventually. Except for love. And vampires.
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Kay bit the back of her hand, hard.  She had read somewhere about someone doing that to keep themself awake as they drove.
She couldn’t remember who, or where, or why they were driving so tired, which was why she knew that she was fading fast.  Her memory for the written word was not exactly eidetic, but was good enough that not being able to bring any of those things forward meant that she bit harder.  
Hard enough to bruise and to leave teeth marks that Adam found when he woke that night.
The road being so bad, and the wheel being on the wrong side, as well as exhaustion, taxed Kay’s out-of-practice driving, but she was the only one available.  Mas had fallen back to sleep after the sound of his ancestral home imploding briefly woke him long enough to pull himself into the passenger's seat of the massive SUV his great-grandmother had rented for them.
Looking at him, his head lolling and his mouth slightly opened, Kay wondered how much he would remember and if, perhaps, he might have been permanently damaged by what Lucille had done to his brain to convince him he was Sir Thomas.  
“Well,” she reached over to weakly pat his arm, “at least your family is really rich.  And has a history of mental illness so it’s less likely to be stigmatized amongst those close to you.”
Then she wrenched the wheel hard to the right to avoid drifting off of the narrow, stone road.
In the back, under the several layers of mover’s blankets and also protected by the darkened windows that had both been thought of by Lady Sharpe-Meadows, Adam, Loki, and Lauren - No.  Laurel , Kay mentally corrected herself.  Adam, Loki, and Laurel were in a vampile, dormant and silent, having barely made it into the vehicle before the sun rose over the burning pile that had been Allerdale Hall.  
The side of the SUV brushed a heavy, tangled hedge, thick enough that it knocked the driver’s side mirror against the window, probably breaking it.  Rolling down the window, the cool, wet air of the morning helped wake her up a little more, and shoving the mirror proved that, oh, yes, it was broken.  It hung by a bit of plastic, banging on the door, scattering bits of broken glass in their wake.
The wind howled behind them.
Once everyone who could be burned to a crisp by the rays of the sun had been covered over, Kay had considered curling up in the driver’s seat and taking a nap herself, but another groan from the ruins made her turn.  
Not stone, nor the ghost of a matricidal Edwardian ghost this time, rather the moan came from the earth itself, blubbering and thick and punctuated by snapping noises as the ground just in front of where Allerdale had been disappeared, falling inwards.  The edges of it - tangled with weeds and looking like an open wound as it oozed clay - started to fall in turn, pushing outwards.  
The mines were collapsing.
Having no idea how big they were, or of how much of Crimson Peak was honeycombed with them, but being sure she wouldn’t like the answer, Kay had fumbled to turn the ignition for several panicked seconds until her worn out brain remembered that the keyfob had a button.  The engine turned and despite the size of the vehicle and the weight in it, fishtailed down the all but invisible path away from the widening pit.
A hard jounce had Kay’s head hitting the roof of the SUV hard enough that she thought she could see the Milky Way and only terror of something worse than a car accident kept her driving.  
The sounds of falling earth and escaping air and sucking clay, and the stench of everything that had been lost within it since the mines first opened, followed them for a long, long time, until finally the GPS found a signal and Kay was able to turn onto a proper road.
Not sure where Loki and Laurel were staying, or if they had even had a place to stay, Kay retraced the route to the expensive hotel they had been put up in.  
Adam had, needless to say, hated its gleaming, granite and metal surfaces and the stink of plastic everywhere, but had grumbled less when he’d seen the underground garage and private elevator to their suite.  Not that Kay could drag him or any of them into it.  Finally able to breathe, she fished around and found the iPhone that had fallen under the seat.
Lady Sharpe-Meadows had all but forced it into Adam’s hand, saying to call the number that was programmed into it when they found Mas.  Kay didn’t recognise the voice on the other end, gruff and deep, but whoever they were, they worked fast.
Though she had fallen asleep in the quiet, dark garage, which was so well cared for there weren’t even any oil stains on the cement, she was certain it was only minutes before she was woken up by a tap on the car window.  
She was being grinned at by the largest man she’d ever seen in her life, who had three gold teeth and a scar that tore through his left eyebrow.  All of which would have been terrifying, if Kay was capable of being frightened by a normal, live person any longer.  
“Hello there, Miss.  Looks like you could use a hand.”  His Scottish burr would have been delightful under other circumstances.  
After that things moved quickly.  Suddenly there were other, gigantic men there, although none with such impressive facial scars or expensive teeth.  One gently lifted Mas and carried him towards a waiting ambulance, the two others hefting the vampires not quite so carefully into fireman's carries and heading with them to the elevator, with the Scot’s Giant taking up Adam.  She fell into step beside him, having to take exaggerated strides to keep up, keeping a hand snagged in Adam’s unruly mane.  
The Scottish giant kept up a soft patter, explaining everything was being seen to, and that she needn't worry about what had happened to the house.  That it hadn’t occurred to Kay to be worried was probably a sign of how tired she was, and once or twice he’d reached out a massive hand to straighten her up, as she kept listing to one side or the other.
Kay was surprised to see Loki start to stir, as if sensing something was happening and trying to fight his way back to consciousness.  
No matter what happened, when the sun was up and Adam was virtually nothing could bring him around.  But Loki  - Kay wondered briefly if she could get him to come to the store to sign stock - looked like he was about to manage open his eyes before going limp again.  
The massive suite had three bedrooms, and had been plunged into darkness by blackout curtains.  A few tiny, amber-shaded lights along the floor were all that kept Kay and the vampire-carrying giants from walking into the furniture.  Later she remembered telling them that they could put Loki and Laurel in together, and taking a phone from the main giant and making noises at Lady Sharpe-Meadows who was very grateful.  
Extremely grateful.
More gratefu-
Kay dropped the phone and crawled into bed next to Adam, coiling around him as much as she could, so tired that for the first time in her life she forgot to thank someone, as the giants crept quietly away.
They slept through the day, and the next night, shifting about despite how deep vampire torpor was so that Adam was half-draped over her and half off of the bed when Kay finally woke up the next evening having to pee.  For a moment, he wrapped his fingers around her ankle to try and keep her in bed, but she made it very clear that this was not an optional situation.  
After relieving herself for so long it started to be alarming, Kay noticed how disgusting she was.  Lucille’s illusions had not been very hygienic, it seemed.  Looking at herself in the full-length mirror of the spare, brushed copper and black marble bathroom attached to their room, Kay couldn’t recall ever having been so dirty.  
The shower was high-tech, with adjustable jets coming from three angles and a plate of scent cubes to be added if she wanted, offering her a variety of states of mind and health, depending on her choice.  Kay knew that Adam’s dead heart would have a small coronary event if he smelled the “bullshit shuck” of aromatherapy around her person so she settled for lots of hot water.
While not as good as sex, the heat and steam were at least in the running for the greatest non-orgasm-related pleasure of her life, each of her muscles unlocking all but audibly.
Because she had a head full of suds and her eyes screwed closed, and because he was a vampire and incredibly quick, Kay almost had her own small coronary event when Adam’s long hands slid around her to grab a washcloth and liquid soap which he used to wash himself and his hair (no wonder it was always in such a state, she thought, if he weren’t supernatural he’d probably be bald) before she could say a startled-
“Fuck!”
“I plan on it…” he whispered in her ear, sliding his arms back around her, up her waist, to cup her breasts.  Only he of anyone she’d slept with had hands big enough to hold most of them and he loved to show that off.
His calloused, dexterous fingers pinched her nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through her, leaning back on him, letting herself slide, reaching up and back to snag his neck and pull his mouth to her throat, she remembered.  “Wait!  Loki and Laurel!  They are… they are like you,” she said, avoiding the v-word, “they’ll hear.”  She hissed out the last word in a whisper.
Adam laughed against her, “They are gone.  After making sure I heard them celebrating our victory over the grave.  Sadly,” he bit her slightly, and Kay moaned, feeling her pussy prickle and pulse and soften, “knowing him he’s probably going to find a way to make a pest of himself sooner rather than later.”
“But-”
Growling, he cut her off.  With his teeth.  His fangs dragged across her skin, leaving a line of fire and blood, which he lapped slowly as he lifted one of her legs so her foot rested high on one of the safety rails.  Reaching up, he adjusted one of the shower heads to medium pulse and aimed it at her pussy, using those long fingers to hold her open, an arm about her ribs to keep her upright, and his teeth in her shoulder, deep to the bone, to keep her still.
Adam normally wasn’t one for toys or using anything but the parts he was born with when it came to sex, so she was a little surprised, though water was probably basic enough even for him.  
Kay had never been molested by one of the four - five if you were in Asia - basic elements before.  The water hit with authority, pulsing and dripping away, the drops trickling through her pubic hair, each teasing her already very sensitive flesh.  Like careful fingers playing with her.  Pulse and play, pulse and play, while Adam sucked and moaned into her skin.
“I think you like this,” he said, voice deep and soft.  He reached up and increased the pulse, and now Kay was squirming, wanting something in her, needing something to bear down on.  She must have, to her very minor mortification, said as much.  “Here, sweetheart, here is something to fill your sweet little cunny,” he all but sang, trailing his free hand under her so he could fuck her from behind with his fingers.  
Even over the faster, and more maddening sound of the water pulsing and splashing on her, Kay could hear the squelch of her pussy as those long, musician’s fingers filled her, first one for a few hard strokes, then two twisted together, and finally three.
“Every drop of water that has ever been,” Adam whispered, looking over her shoulder, watching down the length of her body as the water and his hand made love to her, as Kay twisted and tried to find a rhythm that neither her precarious position or her preternatural lover would allow, “still exists somewhere.  Despite the zombie’s efforts to burn up the planet, it's still here, somewhere.  It has always been, and I think that the luckiest of it all is the water that is licking your pretty gillyflower right now, love.”
“Oh, god, I need to-”
“Not yet. Not for a while.”  
He slid his fingers out and turned her around to face him.
Kay looked up at Adam.  Normally by this point he was as wild as she was, all but past words and ready to take her, his voice recalling his centuries on earth, his need all but animal.  But he seemed calm, cool, water rolling down the fine planes of his face as he met her eyes from over the height of his cheekbones.
“This is about me going into the house, isn’t it?  You’re still mad, yes?”  Her voice was trembling a little, from the need to come, not from fear.  Adam would never hurt her.
But he would punish her a little.  As much as she allowed.
He nodded, all but expressionless.
“And you are going to make me suffer for it aren’t you?”
He shook his head.  “No, I am going to make you happy.  Very happy, love.  Eventually.”
“What does eventually mean, exactly ?”
“At an unspecified later time, or,” he leaned down and whispered close, close enough that if he breathed she would feel it in her ear, “at the end.  As I see fit.”
Kay gulped.
Every inch of the bathroom, the massive couch in the main room of the suite, the double closet - which had a very sturdy clothing bar - the California king bed, and finally the thickly carpeted floor was used, as was every inch of Kay’s body.  Whenever she reached to touch Adam in return he would take her wrist and guide her hand to her own skin, his mouth, for he was after all mostly a creature of appetite and thirst, bringing her to the edge over and over again until finally, shortly before dawn, he entered her.
Her swollen, over-pleasured pussy trapped him, and Adam, fangs long enough to nick himself, bled down on her, her open mouth catching a few drops, unknowing, delirious, licking her own blood from within him, letting him rut, her heels deep in the pile of the rug to push up and offer more and more of herself, until there was no more to offer, no more to be taken, no more of him to take and then she, and then he, and then they came, he loud, she with barely the voice left to rasp out his name after hours of screaming, and they slept the day away on the floor.
Home again….
Adam took the large, flat brown paper-wrapped package from Earl, frowning.  “Who knows I’m here?”
His business partner raised a brow and lowered his glasses to the end of his nose to look at Adam.  “I used to think no one.  I liked it better when you were quiet, just sulking away in the basement.  Not bothering anyone, not having company.  Not taking my goddamned store manager away on trips to who knows where….”
“What fucking ever, I liked it better, too,” he said, tucking the package under his arm.
“Yeah, sure you do,” Earl went back to the NYT crossword puzzle, “what fucking ever.”
Down in his lair, Adam tore the paper open, balling it up and tossing it into a corner.  Kay looked up from the couch, taking out one of her airpods since she was listening to an audiobook - which Adam considered to be abominations - about the history of apples, while knitting a scarf in black and green cashmere.  A gift for someone, she had said.  
He’d started to say something then, but knew it would do no good.  Kay liked having friends, and she liked them having friends in common and nothing he could say would change that.
Within the wrapping was a flat, wooden box, and with it was a frame, old silver beautifully worked by hand into rosettes, with a photo in it and no note.
The photo was in black and white, with the blacks desaturated into deep greys and the whites dulled to platinum, and Adam could tell that the effect came from real film being carefully processed in a parade of stages rather than a digital image shuffled through filters.  
Kay was lovely in the picture, which was only a bit under lifesized.  Adam alway found her beautiful, even though her looks leaned more towards the comfort of prettiness rather than the sometimes distancing grandeur of beauty.  Ganguly had caught her in a moment of thoughtful joy, her mouth turned up at the corners, her head tilted back, with her eyes looking just past the viewer, at that fucking horrible house he was sure.
Adam hadn’t even noticed the man had his camera with him when they met.  But of course he did.  He touched his fingertips to the glass.
The wind had whipped her hair away from her tender neck, and she looked ready to step towards an adventure, not fearlessly but bravely, curiously, certainly.  As if there was so much life before her and she couldn’t wait.
Though they had only just met and for only a couple of minutes, like any truly great artist Ganguly had seen the truth of Kay and, more importantly, was able to show that truth to whoever was smart enough to look.
“Is that…?”  Kay took the frame from his hands, holding it up to the light, a soft smile slowly opening her lips, “An Owen Ganguly!  When did he take this?  It must have been right before I went into Crimson Peak.”
“Allerdale Hall,” Adam corrected pedantically, resting his chin on the crown of her pale gold hair, feeling himself smile as well.  It still felt odd to smile with any regularity, but it no longer was like stretching muscles that had atrophied.  Kay had done that to him, he supposed.
“You know what I mean,” she murmured, distracted.
The photo was black and white, with all of the earmarks of what made Ganguly an artist.  A genius.  Any scene - the nightmarish horror of the aftermath of a military attack on civilians, the grotesquery of the working conditions in a prison sweatshop, even the less visceral misery of a call center, or the temporary but very real joy of commuters chatting in the Tube - his photograph made the people within it immediate, real.  
No one was anonymous in an Owen Ganguly photo.  They were all people you could know, or could be, no matter how different their circumstances from your own.  
“I wish I looked like that all of the time,” she said with a sigh.
Adam leaned down and kissed her, loving the warmth of her rounded cheek, the slightly rose scented rice powder she favored on his lips, “I don’t.  My dead heart can’t take it.”
She leaned on him and they looked at the picture together for a moment.  Adam knew immediately where he was going to hang it, though he would have to move a few other pictures.
Kay, looking towards the future, would look perfect right beside Eve where she gazed into the past.
Thank you for coming with me on this strange journey.
@caffiend-queen​ @myoxisbroken​ @dianamolloy​ @joyfullymassivewhispers​ @just-the-hiddles​ @justthehiddleswrites​ @dangertoozmanykids101​ @toozmanykids​ @someillplanetreigns​ @piggledy-higgledy​ @catsladen​ @lokislastlove​ @yespolkadotkitty​ @is-it-madness​ @ransoms-sweater-holes​ @mischiefmaker76​ @evieplease​ @clove-pinks​ @nerdygirl203​ @perksofeatingbacon​ @ladyacrasia​ @hopelessromanticspoonie​ @death-unbecomes-you​ @latent-thoughts​ @redfoxwritesstuff​ @emeraldrosequartz​ @servent-alearika​ @mariwild​ @alexakeyloveloki​ @rauko-art​ @reileth​ @lokiestorch​ @wrathkitty​ @undecidedsworld​ @lokiperfection​ @mfluderesq​ @wolfsmom1​ @incurablyromanticsblog​ @pigilene​ @mdemontespan1667​ @colorfulfreakstudentpizza​ @oddlymurderousplant​ @huntress-artemiss​ @arch-venus25​ @i-stand-with-loki​ 
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lucillesharpeismybaby · 2 months
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Photoshoots for my CPeak modern AU
: Carter Cushing was murdered when his daughter Edith was 12. She could never forget the killer's face, a woman. She was never found. Edith grew up to be a detective and has been investigating her father's case alone. Tracing the killer's past, Edith discovers that she has been living since the 19th century.
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maureen-corpse · 9 months
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a tale told in images
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