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Every love story is a ghost story.

David Foster Wallace (via quotemadness)

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April is the cruellest month, breeding / lilacs out of the dead land

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caeleps:

“I do not see why you would not marry though”, he said thoughtfully and foolishly. By their time standard, she should have already been married and not being married meant that perhaps she would be branded spinster. Some men would probably find her to old to be married off and for that Thomas knew he must succeed in his invention. He had to care for her and provide for her even after he took a wife, if he managed to, he would still see to it she was cared for.

He nodded though at her words. Of course he would find a wife they could trust, he would not marry less she approved anyway. He wanted any sort of change to be gradual, easy for her. Their life had not been kind to either of them and because of that he did not want to cause anymore trouble or add to it.

He watched her for a moment, the way her eyes slipped closed. He watched her, the tell tale signs there that she seemed to be attempting to calm herself. He’d said something wrong, that was the only reason she would be behaving as such. “I apologize Lucille, I did not mean to upset you. I was merely being foolish in thinking…”, he trailed off. In thinking what? In thinking that she would actually marry and leave Allerdale Hall?

He knew there would be no way she would ever leave this place. While he had wished to traverse the world, to see what there was outside of this crumbling tomb he knew that with out her complying to such dream he would need remain here and see that the family wealth prospered once more. He needed to prove to everyone that the Sharpe’s were not so easily put out.

Lucille’s lips tightened. Did he wish to cast her off? Foist her on to the shoulders of another man? Did he tire of her, did he dislike her now, did he resent her for her mere presence? She knew she was older than most women who were married now, knew that many women her age in their social circle were married. That did not mean she had to be married as well, she did not have to leave him. She could not even bare the thought, and yet, he seemed to be able to accept such an idea as the expected.

As though he expected her to leave. She felt a coldness fill her body, a tingling start in her fingers as her gaze hardened. She looked away from him, attempting to control the breathing that wished to send her chest in to frantic motion. Even the closing of her eyes could not calm her as it usually did. It did not allow her to regain the control she so desperately needed to hold on to.

Her eyes snapped open at his next words, the anger overwhelming her as she picked up the book she had only now stopped holding as tossed it across the room. “To think that I would ever feel safe with a man unlike you? To think I could ever leave this home, to risk becoming imprisoned in another man’s home? To be chained to his table, his bed, alone?” Her voice cracked as she shouted her words. Her hands trembled and she turned away from him quickly. Lucille moved across the room, the floors creaking under her feet, grating upon her already rough edges. Her dress moved with her, the heaviness of it not sitting upon her like a cloak of death.

Would it be improper to disrobe before him? He had seen her bare before, and she felt as though she was being smothered. Her hands flew to her hair, raking through the loose braid. She needed to regain control, she needed to find her center.

He was her center. And he was attempting to unbalance her she knew it!  

Control || Open Rp

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caeleps:

The feel of her fingernails across his cheek only made a shiver run down his spine. Displeasure. She was displeased in something he’d done. Just what that was he did not know, with her he never knew. It was like dealing with caged animal now after having reunited with her. Before as children he could see nothing but love in her eyes and now behind that love there seemed to be a coldness, something feral.

Soft press of her lips upon his forehead had only seemed to dispel the tension. She was once more placated. This was perhaps how it should be, he submit to her and she will remain pleasant. But he knew she also fretted over him, fretted over him not being in her sight, not being able to over see him as they had as children. That was one thing he wished he could aid her in, in overcoming such fear of being unable to tend to him.

“I know”, he whispered back softly as he simply lavished in her touch. Despite wishing to find but a bit of peace away from her he still clung to that comfort of her touch. Yet when that touch seemed to fade he opened his eyes and looked once more at her. His reflection staring back at him from her mirror was not that of the young man he had been but of a haunted little boy.

For a moment he began to have second guess of leaving her here alone in Allerdale, she could not be alone, not ever again. He was conflicted but he knew the only way to revive the life they had once had would lie in this trip to London. Yet he feared the loneliness he would cause her during his time away. Perhaps he would fix the automaton in his workshop, bring it to their bedroom so she may have at least some trinket of him to keep her loneliness at bay. Perhaps a book or two that he’d enjoyed reading would keep her at bay. “Of course”, he said softly as he watched her.

She nodded in response to his words, her eyes drifting around the room. The room that had once held so much power, so much fear that she resented. But all that was gone now, their parents were gone, all that was left was them. Her and Thomas. The way it had always meant to be. She smiled softly, the idea pulling at her lips. Teasing her with pleasure, for what greater pleasure could there be than being with Thomas?

There was no greater pleasure. She knew that.

“When you return it shall be with good news I trust. I can see no other outcome besides the best.” She said firmly, turning back to him after she schooled her face in to a calm and neutral look. “I believe in you above all other things.” She clasped her hands together behind her back and nodded slightly. It was perfectly normal to feel this anxious, to fear her brother never coming back to her arms. Fear would overwhelm her, she knew, but not right now. She could not seem weak before him. “You should start preparing, you do not want to be unpacked when you leave.”

Chains of Our Own || Open RP

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crackedportrait:

@claybeneathourfeet hit the heart

“That shade is stunning..” He murmurs as his gaze settles on her. She’s lovely, truly, strands of inky hair contrasting with the pale softness of her skin. The crimson of her dress  accentuating the dark and light of her beauty.

Her shoulder stiffen slightly at the voice she had not expected. She had found the piano in the backroom of the manor the party was being held in. Turning only slightly, she pressed the hair back from her cheek. “It is my most preferred dress.” She replied calmly, though her fingers flexed against the keys. He was handsome, he was dangerous in that. She would know how beauty hides dangerous things.

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Her fingers seemed so delicate as they rested upon the edge of the tub. Softer than they had ever been in life, curled as tight as they were around the edge as though that could keep her alive, could fight the fate that had always been meant for her. Her fingers almost seemed to caresses the white in a way that Lucille could not understand, could not begin to have ever hoped for in life.

And such delicate, fragile fingers, had no right to wear the ring that was a symbol of coldness. Lucille bent forward slightly, letting her clever fall on to the towel, and plucked the red ring from her mother’s fingers.

It had never been meant for her after all. A ring of this beauty was meant to be a symbol of love, and Beatrice had never held love in her heart once. 

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Billy Bogiatzoglou aka Billelis, Illustrations.

Incredible illustration work mixed with 3D rendering by British artist Billy Bogiatzoglou, aka Billelis.  I’d really, really love to see these as real-life sculptures and maybe even own a few.

Don’t miss Supersonic Art on Instagram!

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Crimson Peak (2015) dir. Guillermo del Toro

The bleak house stood at the end of a red clay path, surrounded by dead brown grass and skeletal trees and backed by a dark gray sky. Gone were the boulevards lined with trees and topiaries. No porte cochère to shelter aristocrats’ coaches as they disgorged visitors; indeed, no visitors. 

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Edith from Crimson Peak

Costume & edit by me Picture: http://www.theazur.com/

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☾

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Faerie/Fair Folk Starters

"They say strange things gather at the crossroads."

"Whatever you do, keep your head down and don't look anyone in the eyes."

"Entering a faerie circle is an easy way to get killed."

"Won't you come dance with us?"

"You're a foolish creature...but, a beautiful one. I think I'll keep you for awhile."

"Never insult the fair folk. Talk about them with respect, unless you're just dying to be cursed."

"Come away, oh human child."

"They can be kept at bay with iron, a salt circle, or certain herbs. But you still have to be careful!"

"I've taken you as my bride/groom. You should be happy!"

"Please, tell me you didn't eat anything they gave you!"

"When I was little, one of my friends disappeared after walking into a faerie circle. I never saw them again."

"Have you ever heard of something called "The Wild Hunt?"

"If you manage to impress them, you might be granted a favor."

"I fulfilled my promise; I gave you exactly what you asked for!"

"You were the one who was willing to gamble what you couldn't afford to lose."

"Real faeries aren't anything like Tinkerbell. Real faeries are fucking terrifying."

"It's said that they steal teeth from children."

"I hate to break it to you, but that baby's not yours, or for that matter, human."

"They'll put a glamour on you. You won't be able to speak, or fight back."

"Time passes differently in their world than it does in ours."

"They can't cross running water."

"I told you never to ask them for a favor!"

"You helped me. And now I will help you."

"Once it has you in its thrall, it won't ever let you go."

"What a good mortal. I'm glad I decided to keep you."

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mysterious dark beautiful places aesthetic moodboard

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manuscript dated 1823 -

An introduction to botany with original water colour illustration

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Favourite spooky films for Halloween

Crimson Peak - Guillermo Del Toro

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