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soulsforscrapbooks · 7 months

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How the Dracula Stage Play Influenced Future Adaptations

So I wanted to let people know about the stage adaptation of Dracula, because it established a lot of tropes that have come to define the novel as well as vampire fiction in general, despite the fact that large changes were made when bringing the book to the stage. Sometimes, honestly, it seems like more adaptations pull from the play than the book. Okay:

The original stage adaptation of Dracula was written in 1897 by Stoker himself! Here you can see the manuscript in his own hand:

Apparently he hated how it turned out, because he called it “dreadful” and it was performed only once and then never again. The role of Mina was played by Edith Craig, a well-known figure in the suffragist movement and the daughter of Ellen Terry, Stoker's friend, whom he mentions in the book. The next attempt at adapting the novel would not be until the 1920s, after Stoker had died.

The 1924 adaptation by Hamilton Deane stays fairly close to the events of the novel. Some key points:

The entirety of the action takes place in the Harkers' house

Mina and Jonathan are already married

Dracula is already in England, and the storyline involving Jonathan as a prisoner of the Count has been omitted

To accommodate the female members of his theater troupe, Quincy is now a woman! Her name is still Quincy, and she is described as “feisty,” and is a close friend of Jonathan and Mina. (There don’t seem to be any photos from the 1924 play, sadly.)

It is in this first major adaptation that the idea of the Count as suave and debonair is brought into existence. This change is to allow Dracula to interact more easily onstage with the other characters, whereas in the book he stays an offscreen threat for large amounts of time. This is also the first instance of Dracula wearing a high-collared pointy cape, which was originally done to hide the actor better whenever Dracula had to “disappear” through trapdoors.

Here is Raymond Huntley as Dracula in the 1924 stage adaptation:

The play was a success, and quickly moved to Broadway:

This version, adapted by John Balderston, was a complete revision not just from the book but from the 1924 stage play, and a LOT of changes were made:

Quincy, Arthur, and MINA have been removed from the story. Mina is mentioned as having died mysteriously before the play takes place.

Jonathan’s relationship to Dracula has been completely removed. He is not involved with bringing the Count to England at all. He is also now wealthy, and has traveled Europe extensively, where he has heard folktales about vampires.

Lucy is now engaged to Jonathan, and her last name is now Lucy Seward. This is because……..

John Seward has been aged up and is now Lucy’s father.

The action takes place at Seward’s house/asylum.

Renfield is allowed to just sort of…wander around Seward’s house when the plot requires him to be there. He gets dragged away by attendants whenever he needs to be offstage. He also survives.

The Broadway version also made large changes in characterization:

Lucy is weak and feeble when we meet her in the play. She is helplessly preyed upon by Dracula, and yet is sexually tempted by him when under a trance. She and Dracula share a passionate kiss at the end of Act II, right before she willingly exposes her neck for him to bite.

Jonathan is still concerned for Lucy as she is slowly turned, but he is more wary of her and goes along willingly with Van Helsing’s ideas regardless of how Lucy feels.

Renfield is portrayed as actively malicious, through fearful and subservient to the Count.

Seward is seen as a strong-willed father who leads his asylum with a firm and confident hand. He believes Van Helsing more readily when confronted with the existence of vampires.

Dracula himself is once again depicted as charming and suave, and he spends time during the first act as a mysterious but pleasant dinner guest of the Sewards.

Despite these massive revisions, the Broadway version was a hit, partially to due the charisma of Bela Lugosi, who originated the role. (Below is Bela Lugosi as Dracula along with Seward, Van Helsing, Jonathan Harker, and Renfield on the floor:)

Bela Lugosi, of course would go on to star in the 1931 film adaptation. Other famous stage Draculas include Jeremy Brett and Frank Langella (Langella's revival would also give us this amazing Edward Gorey art:)

So we can see that the stage plays influenced many versions that would later come, as well as the idea of vampires in pop culture at large. It’s interesting how the motifs and themes we expect when we hear the word “Dracula” were actually the creation of people besides the author, and these differences don't seem to have been majorly disputed in the last 100 years. Has this happened with other classic novels? I'm not sure, but I'd love to see an accurate adaptation of Dracula in stage or film form, and see how it might influence filmmakers and directors for the future.

#dracula daily #dracula spoilers #theater

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johannestevans · 2 months

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Crimson Peak: A Love Letter To Gothic Romance

Adoring thoughts on Guillermo Del Toro’s 2015 masterpiece.

On Patreon / / On Medium.

This review and bit of analysis is related to the talk I’ll be giving on Crimson Peak tomorrow, responses to misogyny and marginalisation in and around Gothic fiction, and how much of this social conservatism is mirrored in BookTok and modern retorts to problematic fiction.

All proceeds from the Romancing the Gothic Goths for Breakfast talks go to charity, feeding school children free breakfasts! You can sign up for tickets here.

Edith and Thomas in bed, via Cap-That.

Crimson Peak (2015) frustrated me when it came out, and often frustrates me today — I was desperately excited about it when it was released, loved it the first time I saw it, have loved it every time I’ve watched it since. What frustrated me was not the film itself, but its advertisements and the way it’s filed and tagged on sites even today is that Crimson Peak is not a horror film.

Crimson Peak is a Gothic romance.

Yes, Gothic fiction — Gothic horror — might be classified under traditional horror tags and descriptors, but gothic romance is a different and more complicated kettle of fish.

Gothic fiction is typified by its associations with the most visceral of human emotions — with fear and horror and terror; with disgust and anger and rage; with want and jealousy and envy; with lust and love… and grief.

We see in Gothic fiction what we see in the the Gothic architecture for which the genre is named, inspired by its traditional settings — the darkness that lingers thick and impenetrable amidst the ceiling arches, untouched no matter how many candles are lit; the long shadows cast by figures silhouetted against windows and fireplaces; the endless corridors, the haunted attics, the cold and shadowed cellars, the strange and troubling shapes of the house around us.

What do we find in Gothic romance, then?

In Gothic fiction we find the most macabre and grotesque of happenings, of settings, of events — in Gothic romance, we find those who love and lust for them.

Some of the most famous Gothic romances are Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre; Deaphne Du Maurier’s Rebecca; Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights (Stephenie Meyer’s favourite book, and an inspiration for Twilight, by all accounts: no more damning comment can be made of it).

When I was describing my affection for the genre to my partner the other day, I also mentioned Bram Stoker’s Dracula — Dracula lacks the female protagonist that these three classics have, but I would argue that the want and lust (and even love) between Dracula, Jonathan, and Mina (in each direction) more than amount to enough to fit the book into the genre.

It’s not as simple as desire or want or even love for another whilst horrific happenings go on around their heads — Gothic romance’s unique allure is in the darkness of people’s romantic desires, their sexual desires. Wanting what they should not want — wanting the pain and the grief and the fear as much as they want the sweetness, the comfort, the pleasure of love.

This stands out most of all in those Gothic works that delve into proto-feminist explorations of female empowerment — in Jane Eyre, in Wuthering Heights, in similar works that largely centre the horror of a young woman (or women) entering into marriage with a man that leads her to doom of one type or other, supernatural or mundane, what is ultimately being explored is the horror of these women’s lack of choices and agency.

If she will be terrorised either way, if she will live in fear, if she will be controlled no matter what she does and whom she’s married, why would she not seek out a controller, seek out a ghost or monster, whom excites her? To whom she is most deeply attracted? A man who she can — and will — terrorise in turn?

I think it’s why poor Jonathan Harker stands alongside these Gothic heroines in my mind, not merely in line with Mina because he’s her husband, but part of the line-up in his own right— he is desirous of Dracula and, like many of these women stumbling, or rushing headlong and passionately into, dangerous matches, he is heedless of every warning as he allows himself to be trapped in the faraway manse of this hypnotising man who will feed on him, and whom at the same time Harker feels a sort of hunger for even as his intentions and his nature become clear.

What is it, then, about Crimson Peak?

Here’s a Gothic romance that stands on its own two feet — like the best of pastiches, it near perfectly echoes the tone and the hypnotising ache of the best and most impactful stories in the genre, creating a story that could well have been penned centuries ago alongside contemporaries like Wuthering Heights.

In Crimson Peak, there are so many references to different staples of the genre — apart from the basic staples of the isolated manse in the middle of the dales, the strange and dark family with the sordid past, the young ingenue, intelligent and driven but at the same time naive, we see small references or direct mirrors to particular tropes or archetypes present in some famous Gothic tales.

Finlay, for example, the Sharpes’ elderly caretaker who seems confused and scatterbrained, is a mirror to the long-winded and sometimes incomprehensible Joseph of Wuthering Heights; Edith compares herself to Mary Shelley, a stalwart creator in the Gothic genre and one of its defining authors.

Like the best of pastiches, it is filled with its love for that which it’s imitating, delving into classic tropes of the genre — the sprawling and crumbling manse on the hill, apart from all the other houses, filled only with ghosts; the once rich and splendid family, now rendered impoverished and preying on others to survive; the aspects of natural horror, insects feasting on one another, the presence of this red in tooth and claw violence and the desperation to survive; the horrors of lonely, isolated children developing inappropriate and disgusting, incestuous intimacies with one another, those intimacies carried on into their adulthood; ghosts that at once horrify those they appear before and yet on some level crave to help them, to save them, or at least undo what has been done.

At the same time, every character but Lucille Sharpe (Jessica Chastain) is desperate to escape the genre they’ve been born into.

Edith (Mia Wasikowsa), naturally, wants for a romance, but she also wants more for herself than her role as a woman in the society she’s in — much like the Brontë sisters did themselves, she wishes to disguise her gender so that her work is not immediately dismissed, exchanging her father’s gift of a pen for the machinised genderlessness of a typed hand, that she might be an author and create things for herself, just as her father built things before he owned them; Thomas (Tom Hiddleston) wants for a romance himself, craves the love and sweetness of a marriage whilst untangling himself from the horror it’s attached to with his sister, but he is also trying to drag himself out of the hole his house is creating with machinery designed to dredge out clay.

Edith and Thomas both reach for tools of the industrial age, reach with grasping hands for modernity, as if these can save them from the classic ghost story they’re trapped in.

And yet there are further depths to this gift — in giving Edith the gift of this pen, Carter (Jim Beaver) is giving her a sort of phallic symbol. He is a patriarch giving his daughter a metaphorical extension of masculinity and masculine power — in essence, he is saying to her: “Edith, you are not just my daughter, not just a woman as in the eyes of the patriarchal society around us, but you are my firstborn. Uncaring of the gendered nature of your position, and the ways in which this dispossesses you, I am giving you an appropriate tool for your trade.”

And what does Edith do? Immediately reject his pen, because his approval and his extension of this power to her is not enough — she exchanges the tool for the typewriter because she craves the anonymity it will give her, and its modernity.

Appropriate, that Carter Cushing should take such a dim view of Sharpe’s prototype and dismiss it as little more than a child’s toy, whilst talking about his own hard work leading to the empire he later built — talking about hardening his hands before he built larger structures, before he owned property himself.

This is the same opportunity he is attempting to offer Edith in giving her that pen: for her to have a tool to build with before she owns his empire, and yet she rejects it. In turning down this offer of power from Carter Cushing, representative of his allotting her more personhood than one might expect to be offered to a woman in this period, her head is then turned by Thomas Sharpe’s proposal.

She is, in a way, taken back to the past when she returns with him to England — social mores are not so flexible in England as they are for a woman like Edith in America, and even if they were, she is isolated from anybody but Thomas and Lucille (and the ghosts in their home), so she is robbed entirely of opportunities for self-empowerment or agency.

In Allerdale, it is Lucille that carries all the power, Lucille that holds the a ring of metaphorical phalluses on her belt, taken from all her victims — Lucille holds the keys to the house, and denies them immediately to Edith, who by all rights should now be lady of the house as Thomas’ new wife.

She holds power in her hands, wielding these keys, and of course, Edith takes the one that had belonged to Enola Schiotti to unlock her trunk — the same ghost who unlocks another door for her, no key needed, to give her some power within that home on the sly.

It’s appropriate that Edith finally wields her father’s pen when Lucille pushes her to sign the contract that will sign her life away — a concern Carter no doubt always had about Edith marrying any man, even were Thomas not so suspicious a character — and uses it as a weapon to attack Lucille and defend herself, to allow herself to reach once again for freedom.

There are so many layered meanings and ideas within the text, and it’s so richly written and developed compared to many contemporary films I might think of — it’s miserable to think of, but Crimson Peak really is one of those films where you feel that every part of the story has its place, where the whole thing has been wholly considered, carefully mixed and edited, where every scene, every line, every movement of the camera is for a reason, and adds to the greater narrative, elevates that narrative.

In the beginning, for example, we hear Edith say that her mother died of cholera, and that it was a closed casket, that her father begged her not to look — when Carter himself is on the block in the morgue, she is compelled to look although she doesn’t wish to, and seeing him dead there, she cannot conceive of the reality of the situation. She never sees her mother dead, but she understands she is dead, and then sees her as a ghost — never able to fully digest the death of her father, she denies it even as she touches his cold hand, and she is never haunted by him.

Edith mentions that she sees Thomas Sharpe as a parasite with a title before meeting him, and she is entirely right to think of him as such, because that is precisely what he is — there is a continuous and constant theme of living things feeding off one another. Lucille compares Edith to a butterfly, the two of them sitting side by side, one brightly yellow and the other dark and pale: Lucille tells Edith, distant and dreamy, that the moths she’s so familiar with eat butterflies (like her).

Edith and Lucille, via cap-that. “It’s a savage world of things dying or eating each other, right beneath our feet.”

Even the house itself at Allerdale is being consumed by the mountain below, being devoured by the red and bloody clay that had once given the family within it their fortune — having been fed upon by this family over generations, it now feeds on them in turn, both in the absorption of Allerdale House, and incidentally in the drowned victims of those the Sharpe siblings feed into the cellar vats.

Edith as a protagonist notes details — she’s keen and clever, investigates, considers; she notes that Alan keeps Arthur Conan Doyle on his shelves; she speaks on the specificities of Thomas Sharpe’s wardrobe and how its dated appearance reveals that his fortune is waning or has entirely waned; she follows clues, she researches, she deduces. Like her father, she reaches for information, arms herself with it.

We see her horrified again and again by the ghosts that plague her, and at the same time, she works so hard to understand them — she works hard at every opportunity to comprehend the incomprehensible, to know the unknown, to understand everything that cannot be understood.

There are so many other wonderful elements to the film — it’s beautifully shot, of course, and has some of my favourite costuming that I could name in any period piece. Every dress, every suit, is perfectly tailored, effortlessly lit, every piece moves and flows, every piece of jewellery or accessory is set to fit the period, the setting, each individual character.

Even the ghosts, with their smoky essence, with the unnatural shift and angularity to their movements embroiled in a constant and preternatural fog, seem so real, have such a texture to them that makes them so easy not only to visualise, but to imagine you can feel, that you can reach out and touch — or not touch, even as you reach.

And like any good Gothic piece, but especially a Gothic romance, Crimson Peak is a film that exudes sex.

Every glance between Edith and Thomas is full to the brim with want and lust and desire — Thomas’ gaze lingers on Edith’s face and her body, on her hands, on the movement of her skirts and the shift of her waist; Edith follows after Thomas where he moves, leans toward him like a candle flame drawn to a draught, and you can see her hold her breath whenever he draws closer.

Whenever there is a distance between the two of them it feels fraught with electric tension: when that distance is slowly closed, bit by bit, and yet repeatedly denied and interrupted — by Alan, by Carter, by Lucille, by everyone around them — it seems that it should crackle and pop, flash and burst into flames.

Lucille’s desperate control of Thomas is in part dependent on their sexual dynamic, on the older Lucille having groomed him into a partnership when she was only 14 and Thomas even younger at 12 — and Thomas’ soft murmurings, almost to himself, with Edith, are so revealing of his vulnerability.

“You’re so different,” he whispers in one scene, and quickly brushes off Edith’s bafflement at the comment; he is frightened to lay hands on Edith, even to be alone with her at times, for fear of Lucille’s wrath, and when finally permitted the opportunity to fall into bed with her, he’s desperate in his desire for her.

His most sympathetic moment is no doubt where he says to Alan through carefully gritted teeth that Alan is a doctor, that Alan knows where to direct Thomas’ blade, that he might finally do violence upon someone — what Lucille has always wanted from him — and yet still save himself from having committed a murder.

Lucille damns everyone she touches, kills everyone she can — her mother; Carter Cushing; the dog; each of her brother’s wives; Thomas Sharpe himself.

And yet she’s not unsympathetic.

We see Lucille’s desperation — under her cold demeanour is an agonisingly lonely woman, isolated and abused for the whole of her life, robbed of any real and obvious power of her own, and forced to wield power only through her brother’s name, her brother’s movements, her brother’s actual, legal power, which as a woman she cannot wield.

Lucille and Thomas were locked alone in their attic and denied access to anywhere else in the house, apparently denied any other companionship or loving contact — their mother was also an abuse victim, and became isolated after what their father did to her, but she just carried on the cycle in abusing her own children. Is it any wonder she should grapple so desperately for purchase in a world literally slipping out from under her, the sliding stone and brick stained red with crimson clay?

Is it any wonder that she should mix blood in with it, when she has nothing in the world, as far as she sees it, but her brother?

As cold and brutal and violent as Lucille is, she acts on instinct to protect herself and who she holds most dear — even in killing Thomas himself, it’s a desperate action in the hopes of keeping him bound up with her, terrified of his rejecting her when he has been the one constant she has ever been able to rely on.

God, what a film.

#musings #crimson peak #tom hiddleston #movie recs #movie review

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bebemoon · 7 months

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CASTING MUTUALS IN SPOOKY MEDIA FOR HALLOWEEN, PT. I

@interluxetumbra ~ margot (la reine margot) | jareth (labyrinth) | clara webb (byzantium)

@shalott ~ blind mag (repo! the genetic opera) | christine daae (the phantom of the opera)

@vampirkaninchen ~ nadja cravensworth (what we do in the shadows) | mina harker (the league of extraordinary gentlemen)

@ayzrules ~ alice liddell (alice: madness returns {video game}) | kang saebyeok (squid game)

@allthestoriescantbelies ~ edith cushing (crimson peak) | sarah (labyrinth)

@zenibas ~ selene (underworld) | william "spike" pratt (buffy the vampire slayer)

@bienenkiste ~ suzy bannion (suspiria)

@naiadereverie ~ hannah von reichmerl (a cure for wellness)

@konvalia ~ mina harker (bram stoker's dracula) | aya tsukimori (fatal frame)

@wrenling ~ carrie white (carrie) | wicked lady (sailor moon)

@blubbingbeautifully ~ star (the lost boys) | tank girl (tank girl) | diva plavalaguna (the fifth element)

@roseverie ~ mirror queen (the brothers grimm) | frieda gellhorn (twins of evil)

@rosehaunt ~ lisle von rhuman (death becomes her) | maria gellhorn (twins of evil)

@melethrille ~ princess nuala (hellboy 2: the golden army) | fiona belli (haunting ground {video game})

@silkfaun ~ princess lili (legend)

@uneorchide ~ nina sayers (black swan)

@blauestunden ~ dani (midsommar)

@senvive ~ saxana (the girl on the broomstick)

@mermaid-lullaby ~ akari (ghost squad)

#kinda wordy #don't care tho #request #hope this amuses some of you- i swear to god it was fun #halloween #collage #mutuals #spooky #film #tv #video games #mine

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irregularcollapse · 8 months

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Sooo... Damen pov in the gothic fic right?

I don't know if this is a weird question, but can you tell us about the roles you put them in, in regard to the typical roles of a gothic novel? Like how you chose them, what adjustments you had to make etc. (Maybe that's a tough one to answer without spoilers? Oops)

Also! What are YOU most excited about for this fic??

I haven't read any gothic novels since high school, but I'm thinking about (re)reading a few just to get in the spirit for this fic :3

YES third-person restricted Damen POV 🫨🫨🫨 and unfortunately, my son is straight up not having a good time so far.

The funny thing about getting the idea for this AU was the lightning-quick realisation that the core characters largely fit the roles of various gothic archetypes all on their own.

Damen—the gothic heroine! Distinct in role from the gothic hero. The heroine is often captured or confined, finds herself beset by strangeness that perhaps others do not acknowledge, is often the target of manipulation, but in many stories ultimately triumphs over the evil. A representation of goodness and all virtues which the author wishes to reward. Her journey often shows a transition from naivety to maturity. She also sometimes gets to run around a castle in a nightgown looking for ghosts, holding a candelabra aloft.

Think the new Mrs de Winter (Rebecca), Emily St Aubert (The Mysteries of Udolpho), Mina Harker (Dracula), The Governess (The Turn of the Screw), and of course, Edith Sharpe (Crimson Peak)—although there are many more examples!

Laurent is, in my opinion, a near-textbook Byronic Hero. Take this quote from Camus:

The Byronic hero, incapable of love, or capable only of an impossible love, suffers endlessly. He is solitary, languid, his condition exhausts him. If he wants to feel alive, it must be in the terrible exaltation of a brief and destructive action.

The Byronic hero is a tortured soul, alluring but with a darkness inside. He is brooding and cynical, consumed by loneliness, but often finds a light in the heroine.

The Regent is easily a villain figure, the predatory aristocrat who initially charms but ultimately manipulates and abuses. The most famous example of this type of character is probably Dracula himself. No vampires in this AU, though. Ghosts only!

Another character type which will become relevant (but I won’t assign due to spoilers) is the “madwoman in the attic.” Following from Rochester’s wife in Jane Eyre, this figure explores concepts of truth and deception, rationality and insanity, illness and health, and “untamed” (and therefore punished) womanhood.

What am I most excited for in this AU? Like, the whole thing. The Gothic is a particular academic interest of mine—I have studied it, taught it, immersed myself in it, been obsessed with it for most of my life. I’ve been much too scared to attempt to write one of my own, because I feared it wouldn’t live up to my ambitions. But fic is, for me, a great place to experiment! So I’m excited to abandon trepidation and throw myself in. I’m having so much fun so far!

#asks #my writing #a storm that took everything fic

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ultimate-fucked-up-ship-tourney · 2 months

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Tentative list for best horror and thriller girls:

1. Maria from Mad Father

2. Reiko Mikami from Another

3. Bridget, from the webtoon Nonesuch,

4. Ha-Im, from webtoon Never-ending Darling.

5. Riot Maidstone (from Hello From The Hallowoods),

6. Martha from Ravenous 1999

7. Grace, from Ready or Not (2019).

8. Regan Abbott (A Quiet Place)

9. Ava (Ex Machina)

10. Beatrice (Over the Garden Wall)

11. Jennifer from Jennifer’s Body

12. Rozy from the guy upstairs

13. Rachel (Rachel Rising comic book series)

14. Amanda Young, SAW,

15. Wendy Torrance, “The Shining” movie

16. Pannochka - Viy

17. Blind Mag (Repo! The Genetic Opera)

18. Sasha from the magnus archives

19. Mina Harker (Dracula

20. Lex Foster from Black Friday.

21. Charlotte from Hello Charlotte!

22. Carrie White, Carrie

23. Scarlet, I’m the Grim Reaper

24. So Jung-hwa, Strangers from Hell

25. Dana Scully, The X Files

26. Akane Tsunemori, Psycho Pass

27. Mima Kirigoe, Perfect Blue

28. Nina Fortner, Monster

29. Eva Heinemann, Monster

30. Edith Cushing, Crimson Peak

31. Lucille Sharpe, Crimson Peak

32. Ellen Ripley, Alien

33. Clarice Starling, Silence of the Lambs

34. Lisa Reisert, Red Eye

35. Laurie Strode, Halloween

36. Kayo Hinazuki, Erased

37. Hondomachi, ID Invaded

38. Yonaka Kurai, Mogeko Castle

39. Ib, IB

40. Re-L Mayer, Ergo Proxy

41. Kyun Yoon, Bastard

42. Jisu, Sweet Home

43. Lauren Sinclair, Purple Hyacinth

44. Nita, Market of Monsters series

45. Rose the Hat from Doctor Sleep (2019 movie and Stephen King book)

46. Sidney Prescott from the original Scream movies,

47. Jade Daniels, Indian Lake Trilogy/My Heart is a chainsaw by Stephen Graham Jones

48. Villanelle, killing eve

49. Harrow from gideon the ninth/Locked Tomb

50. Maggie, Everything is Fine

51. Chaerin Eun, Surviving Romance

52. Finn, I’m Dating a Psychopath

53. Rayne Liebert, Homesick

54. Ha-im Yun, Never Ending Darling

55. Ashlyn Banner, School Bus Graveyard

56. Chae-ah Han, Trapped

57. Jeongmin Choi, Dreaming Freedom

58. Frankie, Stagtown

59. India Stoker, Stoker

60. Nam-ra, All of Us Are Dead

61. Ji-woo, My Name

62. Nanno, Girl From Nowhere

63. Emerald, Nope

64. Jessica Jones

65. Susy, Wait Until Dark

66. Margot, The Menu

67. Vera, Just Like Home

68. Rosemary, Rosemary’s Baby

69. Gertrude Robinson, The Magnus Archives

70. Alex, Oxenfree

71. Margaret Lanternman/The Log Lady, Twin Peaks,

72. Audrey Horne, Twin Peaks,

73. Su-an, Train to Busan

74. Ji-a, Tale of the Nine Tailed

75. Cha Ji-won, Flower of Evil

76. Coraline

77. Helen Lyle, Candyman

78. Nancy, Nightmare on Elm Street

79. Mrs. De Winter, Rebecca

80. Mrs. Danvers, Rebecca

81. Shiki Ryougi, Garden of Sinners

82. Kirsty Cotton, Hellraiser

83. Pearl, Pearl

84. Take-ju, Thirst

85. Suzy Bannion, Suspiria

86. Lain, Serial Experiments Lain

87. Asami Yamazaki, Audition

88. Naru, Prey

89. Eli, Let the Right One In

90. The Girl, A Girl walks home alone at night

91. Cecilia, Immaculate

92. Evie Alexander, The Invitation

93. Maren, Bones and All

94. Michelle, 10 Cloverfield Lane

95. Thomasin, The VVitch

96. Emma, None Shall Sleep

97. Contestanta, A Dowry of Blood

98. Brigid O’Shaughnessy, Maltese Falcon

99. Sandra Voyter, Anatomy of a Fall

100. Lisa, Rear Window

#polls

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marvelousmrm · 2 years

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The Tomb of Dracula #7 (Wolfman/Colan, Mar 1973). It’s hard out here for a vampire! Rachel Van Helsing introduces Frank to more descendants of the novel, who join in the crusade to slay Dracula.

#marvel #marvel 616 #the tomb of dracula #dracula #frank drake #rachel van helsing #quincy harker #edith harker #marv wolfman #gene colan

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thewardenofwinter · 1 year

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Character Inspo Tag

Tagged by the wonderful Nopal over at @writernopal! Thank you so much, here is their post with some absolutely insane character combinations lol

(also some of these are not characters but real people but I wanted to include them anyway)

Rules: List your OCs and the characters that inspired them!

Very gently Tagging: @sam-glade @elshells @zestymimblo @crowandmoonwriting @captain-kraken @indigowriting @rownanisntwriting and @eurydicefades

Give No Quarter

Circe

Circe of Aeaea (Greek Mythology)

Gamora (Guardians of The Galaxy)

Golsifteh Farahani (Actress)

Wonder Woman and Talia al Ghul (DC Comics)

Sypha Belnades (Castlevania TV show)

Yennefer (Witcher)

Aya/Amunet (Assassins Creed: Origins)

Mix together mommy issues, witchcraft, and ancient knowledge in large bowl with a gilded dagger you get Circe.

Adam Bonny

EDWARD FUCKING KENWAY (Assassins Creed: Black Flag)

Trevor Belmont (Castlevania TV show)

Charlie Hunnam (Actor)

William Thatcher (A Knight's Tale)

Jack Sparrow (Pirates of The Carribean)

Westley (Princess Bride)

Flynn Ryder (Tangled)

You let a BLONDE MAN speak to you like that??? Ceo of 'maybe if he were a little less fuckable we wouldn't be in this mess.'

Henri Bellamy

Ichabod Crane (Sleep Hollow TV Show)

Chris Cornell (Musician)

Julien du Casse (Assasins Creed: Black Flag)

Dracula (Bram Stoker's Dracula 1992)

Armand (Interview with the Vampire 1994)

The only Frenchman to ever exist, the rest are fake. Don't let anyone lie to you.

The Resurrectioners

Samara Dombroski

Isabel Dodson (Constantine 2005)

Selene (Underworld Series)

Victor (Umbrella Academy)

Sidney Prescott (Scream)

Sarah (The Craft)

Pretty much the human personification of what happens when you gain too much Insight in Bloodborne.

Nazriya Akkineni

Theodora (The Haunting)

Morana *gasp* (Castlevania TV show)

Zoya (Leigh Bardugo's Grishaverse)

Satine (Moulin Rogue)

Nancy (The Craft)

Jennifer (Jennifer's Body)

God only made her 5 feet tall because was afraid of her being too close to him.

Zekiah Rush

Chyna Parks (ANT Farm)

Janella Monae (Actress)

Belle (Beauty and The Beast)

Rachel (The Craft)

Karen (Blade)

Resident walking encyclopedia. If you give her a bookmark she might propose to you on the spot.

Dmitriy Mikhailovich

Dmitri Pisarenko (Actor)

Morpheus (Sandman TV Show)

Levi (Attack on Titan)

Viktor (Arcane TV and for his design ONLY that weird mix of a czech/russian accent fucking kills me)

Men with big noses and dark hair>>>>> Frequently pretends he doesn't speak English so people don't talk to him.

What We Undertake

Dolores Clive

Dolores O'Riordan (Singer)

Mina Harker (Bram Stoker's Dracula book)

Edith Cushing (Crimson Peak)

Lydia Deetz (Beetlejuice)

Being the village freak isn't easy but someone has to do it.

Charles Morrison

Alan McMichael (Crimson Peak)

Hercules (Hercules)

Thor (Marvel Franchise)

Milo Thatch (Atlantis)

I wouldn't call Charlie a himbo per say because he's actually quite clever, so I guess he's more of a 'golden retriever nerd with really weird interests.'

Vincent Karloff

Thomas Sharpe (Crimson Peak)

V (V for Vendetta 2005)

Jason Dean (Heathers)

Edward (Edward Scissorhands)

Victor Frankenstein (Mary Shelly's Frankenstein)

Voted most likely to disappear under mysterious circumstances in high school.

Reading some of these combinations is giving me whiplash.

— M. Warrin

#tag game #oc inspiration #oc #original character #wip #current wip #The Resurrectioners #What We Undertake #writeblr #writeblr community #character inspiration #writeblr tag game #Give No Quarter #my writing

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earth-6677 · 1 year

Text

The Five Gifts of Hathor

Gorgon Island, February 1952

Gorgon Island is like a perpetual spring garden. The lower parts of the island are dry grass and brush with palms, dragon blood trees, and acacia. Further up the mountain ridges on the windward side are the laurel forests, and above them the pines and sycamores. It’s never too hot or too cold, and the sunsets are so lovely.

Like this evening, with the sky all violets and dusky blues and gold. The sun melting into the Atlantic. This is the time of nightjars, nightingales, and bats. It’s a magical time. Especially when Edith joins Emily on the porch working on some knitting.

“Got Bree down for the night,” Edith says.

“That’s good,” Emily says. The baby’s been sleeping better recently, which bismillah will help them sleep. It helps keep those black dog feelings away from Emily. She’s a far better mother than she gives herself credit for, yet still she runs herself ragged. The healing factor helps a lot, physically, but she needs all the rest she can get. Michael even promised no missions for her until she’s ready and wants to go. They have all the time in the world now.

“How’s the jumper coming along? She asks.

Emily holds up her work. It’s a dark blue guernsey jumper meant for Pat, his thirty-ninth is coming up in March. “Seems to be going decently. Just have to be sure the knitting’s tight. Can’t imagine he’ll wear it as his Sunday best.”

“Dear Pat’s too practical for such things,” Edith says, wrapping an arm around Emily’s shoulders.

They sit quietly for a while, enjoying each other’s company. She presses her face close to Emily’s hair, catching the lingering scent of her perfume - iris as delicate as gossamer serenely ornamenting her skin.

Look at you Edie, being such a maudlin poet.

“I just remembered something,” Emily says, leaning back on Edith’s shoulder.

“Hmmm.”

“Been ten years since we met.” “Really? That long?’ she muses.

“Yes,” Emily laughs. “Funny how all that time went.”

It feels like yesterday as the cliché goes. At the same time it’s ancient history.

“I still can’t believe how nervous I was around you when we first met.”

…

Cairo, Egypt, February, 1942

So this is Cairo?

Emily comes into the city at the head of a sandstorm and quartered in a FANY barracks close to SOE headquarters - the worst kept secret in the city. Her bunkmates are nice enough, a few are SOE like her, and the work’s not too bad. It’s translating and paraphrasing intercepted messages. It’s easy enough, but it keeps her thinking.

It’s simple, analytical work that requires her full attention so there’s no room to think about such things as home, France, and especially Lyon. It was simple. For a few hours a day, Emily can ignore the feeling of being set adrift. Listless. Directionless. No one knows what to do with her.

Emily Gower, the heroine who discovered the vibranium smuggling ring. Mentioned in dispatches. She’s also damaged goods. Her cell’s blown up, there’s a body in Lyon, and she’s the lone survivor. What do you do with a girl like her?

Send her far from home to cool her heels and keep her out of trouble. Rotten city to do that, there’s nothing but trouble from the men. With the Axis so near, life becomes desperate.

“I can’t possibly go along, Vera, I’d be the odd girl out. Two couples and the spinster, I’d be a complete bore.”

They’re all in a common room. Emily’s curled up in an armchair with a book by Sylvia Townsend Warner. She tries focusing on it to keep herself from eavesdropping and failing miserably. At least the cover acts as a good screen.

Edith Harker is a FANY driver and heart achingly beautiful. She’s tall with auburn hair and lovely blue eyes. She sort of looks like Ingrid Bergman. Emily sometimes casts her as a heroine from a novel - Helen Graham is where her mind goes most of the time. Harker’s talking with another FANY driver and she’s always friendly enough with people, but there’s a certain solitude about her. Not aloofness. There’s a sadness about her. A desire for connection, but possibly the fear of it, as well.

“Oh come now, I’m sure Bertie could drum up some young man for you.”

“No, no. Don’t go to all that trouble for me. You and Ruby go and have fun. I’ll be fine.”

“Alright,” Vera concedes. “Just don’t keep yourself cooped up, dear.”

Harker politely waves Vera off and collapses into the armchair next to Emily. She sprawls in the chair, legs extended out, taking up as much room as possible. There’s something of a pout as she lets a bored expression pass over her face and stares into middle distance. She’s alone in her own world. All Emily could do was wonder what it was like.

Then Harker sighs and looks over at her and her mouth goes dry.

"Good book?" She asks.

Suddenly, Emily feels her cheeks flush and her hair stand on end. They’ve exchanged polite words before. The requisite “hellos” and “pardon mes’ of life. This was the first time Edith Harker actually asked her something. And all Emily can do is nod.

Harker tilts her head and reads out the title, “Lolly Willowes. Good pick.”

“You’ve read it?” she asks, surprised.

“Of course,” Harker replies.

It’s a bit of an odd book to read, not that Emily didn’t mind more popular fair like Nancy Mitford or Emily Fox-Seton. And she loves Christie and du Maurier. Reading a Sylvia Townsend Warner is like Virginia Woolf in her opinion. It’s good stuff, but people think you’re putting on airs, especially where she’s from. And Bethan Gower’s daughters were always putting on airs according to some.

“I like the idea of running away to become a witch and fall in love with the devil,” Harker adds with a wicked grin. “Seems like the only way a woman can be alone if she’s a wicked witch.”

“Make herself as unappealing to men as possible?,” Emily adds, much to her surprise. It came out so naturally.

“That and to get away from her family. Especially if she wants any independence.”

“Have you read Rebecca? The du Maurier book?” Emily blurts out the question.

Harker raises a brow, “Yes,” she answers. “I liked it well enough. Though the second Mrs. de Winter could have grown a spine sooner.”

“Yes…” Emily says. “So anyway I heard that one of the cinema’s playing the film. It’s Hitchcock directing. And it’s got Joan Fontaine and Laurence Olivier.”

“Oh, yes! Didn’t he also do Jamaica Inn?”

Emily nods, “Though honestly, the book’s far better. Though I’m biased, I really like the book.”

“Same here,” Harker says. “But I do like Joan Fontaine. And Vera’s right, I should get out more.” She looks over at Emily, an eyebrow arched in curiosity. “Care for the cinema?”

Emily’s taken aback. She’s still astonished that someone like Edith Harker would take any interest in her. It’s thrilling nonetheless and she’s been so lonely. So she swallows back her fear and nods, “That’ sounds like fun.”

…

Gorgon Island

Emily and Edith make tea for themselves, enjoying themselves with music and a lot of laughs. They reminisce about the past and talk about all the things Sabrina’s gotten up to. She’s babbling, and crawling, and finds everything fascinating. Hair-raisingly so at times.

“So when was it when you realized…” Emily asks. Maybe a little deliberately coy.

“Realize what?” Edith replies, hiding a smile behind her tea cup.

Emily shrugs with a smile, “You know…” She gestures to indicate their connection. “Was it right away?”

Edith lowers her cup and stares up to a corner of the ceiling. “It did take a bit. Sort of two stages.”

Emily gives a quizzical tilt to her head that gets Edith laughing, “You’ll have to forgive me love, I’m still a recovering Catholic. Had to get over the guilt and all that.”

“I mean, I’m a recovering Calvinist. You’re in good company.”

“Well then,” Edith says, clapping her hands together in mock prayer, turning her blue eyes to the heavens. “Forgive me father for I have sinned.” She turns her gaze to Emily. “I have committed the sin of Lust, for Emily Gower looks ravishing in a red bathing suit.”

…

Cairo, Egypt, March, 1942

The barracks have gathered around the swimming pool, some as sunbathers, others as swimmers. It’s one of the few days that is not dominated by sand storms.

Edith sits on a deck chair, reading Jean Rhys and once in a while glancing up at the pool. For the most part, she minds her own business, content under a shady palm with an engaging book.

By chance she needs a sip of her lemonade. And by chance she sees Emily Gower emerge from the pool.

It’s a simple, halter neck bathing suit in poppy red. Modest by many standards. But Emily Gower looks like a nymph of Artemis. A Spartan warrior girl. She’s short and boyish, yet her body is sinewy. Edith’s gaze drinks her in, her imagination wanders to shaded groves and moonlit hunts. She sees Emily stalking through the woods with silent ease, bow and arrow in hand. Poised to strike.

Emily gets over to her deck chair, toweling herself off. She takes off her swimming cap, unpinning her hair and letting it loose. It falls heavily on her shoulders in waves of rich reddish gold, catching the light of the afternoon sun as she runs her fingers through it.

She turns her head and Edith ducks behind her book. It’s rude to stare and she knows her face flushed a vivid red. Since she was a school girl, Edith has known that she’s fancied members of her own sex just as much as she loved men. Sometimes more so. She had been raised to view such feelings as unnatural. As sinful. Something to confess to Father Brady and pray on the rosary about. Hope that God will take away such feelings.

But what if she didn’t want these feelings to go away? If she no longer cared what her father’s wrathful God thought was right and wrong, then what’s holding her back?

…

“You make me sound like Betty Grable,” Emily says incredulously. Truth be told, she’s always thought herself rather plain. No matter what people told her, there was always that nagging doubt.

Edith looks at her a bit cockeyed, “Well honestly, you’re not like one of those Hollywood types. But you are striking. Got a way about you that’s rather bewitching.”

Emily leans over the table and kisses Edith.

…

Luxor, Egypt, April, 1942

Edith has to duck to enter the tomb. Emily doubts the Ancient Egyptians ever planned for a five foot ten English woman entering the resting place of Nefertari.

Emily would normally make a crack about it, but she’s too transfixed by the ceiling alone. It’s painted a deep blue with golden stars. Her eyes wander to the wall paintings of the dead queen journeying to the afterlife. She’d only seen hieroglyphics as the plain carvings on exposed temples. She never imagined what they’d look like painted.

“Marvelous, isn’t it,” Edith says in a hushed voice.

It seems wrong to speak any louder. It feels more sacred than any church she’s been in.

Quietly, they go around the tomb. Edith studied this stuff at Oxford, and she gives a running commentary on the images and even reads some of the carvings.

They frequently brush up against each other. Stand close. Whisper to each other.

“And this is Hathor blessing Nefertari,” Edith says when they get to a painting on a pillar, “Hathor’s the one with the cow horns and sun disk.”

She nods. It looks like the queen and the goddess are holding hands. The blessing, Hathor placing the ankh on Nefertari's lips, is rather intimate. There’s something gentle about the Ancient Egyptian afterlife. More comforting than the Calvinistic dogma of her youth.

Election never sat well with her.

She feels Edith’s hand brush against hers. Emily is still astonished that someone like Edith would give her the time of day. Let alone invite her down to Luxor with her.

“Em, dear,” Edith says, gently touching her hand without taking it. “You can tell me off if I’m wrong, but I really like you. A lot.”

The room smells of dust, kerosene lamps, and the jasmine oil Edith daubs behind her ears. The caress of Edith’s fingers on her palm sends Emily’s heart racing and raising the heat in her cheeks.

“I like you, too,” she replies, not knowing what else to say. She was more than happy to have Edith as a friend.

“I know…” she stops and sucks in a breath. Emily looks up at her and is surprised by the worried look on her (in Emily’s opinion) angelic face. “It’s just I want to know… “

“Look now,” Emily says, taking Edith’s hand and turns so they’re facing each other. She takes the other hand, stares up at her and says, “I think I don’t just like you, Edith. I think I love you. And I know for damn sure I’ve been wanting to kiss you since I met you.”

“Thank God!” Edith says. She bends down and Emily stands on her toes and before the image of Hathor and Nefertari, they share their first real kiss.

…

Gorgon Island

They get ready for bed. Wash faces, brush teeth, the usual routine. Emily goes to check on Sabrina. The baby’s peacefully asleep in her cot. Her hair is dark brown, soft, and downy. Her little hands balled up into fists. Emily wonders what Sabrina dreams of; the sort of adventures she goes on. Hopefully it’s nothing harrowing. She had a rough entry into the world and Emily owes her daughter a happy future.

Edith comes up from behind, wrapping her arms about Emily’s waist.

“She’s such a sweet little thing,” Edith says. She adores Sabrina and that has been such a comfort to Emily. She’s been so happy these past few months she sometimes worries that she’ll wake one day and find it’s all been a dream.

“Em, don’t worry,” Edith whispers in her ear. “Bree will be here in the morning.”

“I know,” Emily sighs. She runs a finger over a soft cheek. She knows exactly what she would do if something happened. “Doesn’t mean I don’t think about it.”

Edith turns Emily around in her arms, cupping her face. “Emily, you are a wonderful mother. And no harm will ever come to Sabrina while she’s here.” Edith kissed her forehead.

“We’re safer now,” Emily breathes out, leaning on Edith. “You make me feel safe.”

…

Yugoslavia, January, 1945

Emily is awoken by the sun. The room is so bright. Her vision unfocused. Head swimming and body aching. She’s so disoriented. She doesn’t know where she is. She can barely move.

She needs to get up.

She needs to leave.

Where am I? Why can’t I move my arm?

“Em! Emily, wake up. I’m here.”

There’s a hand on her cheek. Her vision focuses. Hovering above her is Edith. Her auburn is disheveled, falling into her face. Her blue eyes are wide with fear and happiness. Her face is both tired and elated.

“You’re alright. You’re safe, love,” Edith says, tears welling at the corners of her eyes.

Emily tries to speak, but it feels like there’s cotton in her mouth. Edith takes the que and pours her a cup of water. She’s so weak she needs help sitting up. She needs help to drink.

When she’s gathered more of herself, Emily looks down at her arm, bound closely to her body in a sling. She can feel bandages around her shoulder and chest. It dawns on her what happened.

He finally got her.

He won.

Her mind reels. She feels sick. She feels helpless, violated. Dirty.

The tears come and she shatters once more. Everything’s gone to pieces. Emily’s fallen to pieces.

“Emily,” Edith says, holding her hand. “Emily, look at me.”

She takes several shuddering breaths before looking up at Edith. She’s crying, too.

“Nothing’s going to be the same. But you are here. You are safe. And you’re alive. That’s all that matters right now. We’ll be alright.”

Together they weep and mourn what’s happened. Desperately, Emily grasps that lifeline. Desperately, she clings to Edith.

…

Gorgon Island

“I should have listened to you,” Emily whispers in the dark. She’s far more restless now - used to fall asleep quickly and then slept like a stone for the rest of the night - and Edith seems a little restless, too.

“‘Bout what?” she murmurs back.

“That we’d be alright. Took me too long to realize that.”

They turn to face each other in bed. It’s dark and quiet. Outside is just the wind rustling grass and leaves.

Edith wraps her arms around Emily’s shoulders and they lay together, head to toe.

“If there’s one thing I know is that you’d always come back.” Edith says. “You just needed to figure that out on your own.”

“Even if it took me a hundred years?”

“I’d wait for you forever.”

They kiss and hold onto one another. They were together now, and nothing would change that.

…

Holland Park, London, United Kingdom, November 1950

The trip back to London was abysmal. Nothing but dark, overcast skies and heavy rain from Paris to Calais. The Channel was rough and the train to London was surprisingly crowded. Edith did bring some treasure back from this excursion. More books for the Service’s occult library. And it was surprisingly sunny when she got back to London.

But first, Edith checks in with Maddie and Robby.

She opens the door and is greeted first by the bloodhound, Jasper, with a loving amount of baying and slobber. He’s followed by the twins - Robin and Pippa - excited shouts of “Missy!” (they had trouble with “Miss Edith”) as they ran from the parlour.

“Hello my darlings!” Edith calls as she’s met with the cacophony of excited children and dog. She is swept into the parlour by the twins, wanting to show her something as little children are want to do.

And her heart stops.

Sitting on one of Maddie’s expensive settees is a ghost Edith clung to. One who’s haunting she never wanted to leave. For nearly five years, all she had wished and prayed for above all else, was for Emily to come back.

And here Emily sat, her hazel eyes wide, her hair ablaze in the late afternoon sun. Angel isn’t the right word, but this feels like a miracle.

Edith crosses the room and Emily rises and before either of them can speak they fall into a fierce hug. It’s been so long. There were times when Edith wanted to give up. There were times when she wanted to lose hope.

“I’m sorry,” Emily whispers into Edith’s shoulder between sobs. “I’m so sorry.”

“You’re here, love. That’s all that matters.”

…

Gorgon Island, 14 February 1952

Watching from the porch, Emily observes Edith holding Sabrina, showing their daughter all the flowers and insects in the garden.

On a notepad, Emily writes a list.

Five things I am thankful for

That Edith and I met

That we found love

Sabrina

We have a home

Edith never gave up

#mcu #marvel cinematic universe #mcu fanfic #invaders fanfic #marvel comics #marvel #emily gower #edith harker #valentines day #one shot

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