#Thomas sharpe x edith

[lady-rose-moon]

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

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.

#crimson peak au #loki fanfic #Thomas sharpe x edith #loki x sigyn #i am literally dying #loki #loki fluff #requests open #imagines #reunited lovers

[unamazing-sheep21]

You truly understand me

Edith Cushing and Christine Daae would be best buddies and bully their ghost boyfriends together but you’re all not ready for that conversation yet

#classic litterature #phantom of the opera musical #phantom of the opera #christine daae #crimson peak #thomas sharpe #edith cushing #christine x erik #erik poto #erik destler

[k1ranishf4]

I want what they have

#i want what these bitches have #it’s a need #basically I want a weirdo who’s most likely autistic to my weirdo who has adhd #addams family #morticia addams #gomez addams #gomez and morticia #crimson peak #sir thomas sharpe #edith cushing #sally the ragdoll #jack skellington #jack and sally #jack x sally #castlevania #vlad dracula tepes #lisa tepes #dracula x lisa #monster high generation 1 #deuce gorgon #cleo de nile #cleo x deuce #draculaura #clawd wolf #clawd x draculaura

[darklinaforever]

People who try to argue that Edith was not in love with Thomas must be missing the premise of the film being a gothic romance... (I've literally seen someone say that Thomas didn't seem happy that Edith survived at the end and seemed shocked / disappointed that she was alive. WTF ? The guy literally tried to save her when he was alive and his appearance as a ghost was specifically for that purpose too...) Worse, those who think that Edith would end up in the future with Alan while the beginning of the movie literally says that Edith will die a widow.

#thomas sharpe #edith cushing #edith sharpe #crimson peak #guillermo del toro #thomas x edith #edith x thomas #thomas and edith #edith and thomas #alan mcmichael #Alan McMichael #gothic romance

[opereetveritate]

The yearning under the guise of vulnerability persisted even after two years. He was standing at the foot of her enormous bed. The ghost of a forgotten love story came to her.

Little did Edith know that he came back for her. His voice had still the same effect on her as it uttered,

" Crimson Peak, Crimson Thomas!"

#crimson peak #edith cushing #sir thomas sharpe #thomas sharpe #mia wasikowska #tom hiddleston #horror #my fiction #my stuff #my post #my writing #edith x thomas #forgotten realms #forgotten love #ghost #gothic #just girly things #just a thought #i freaking love him

[holymultiplefandomsbatman]

Does anyone have an idea for a Crimson Peak fic? I've been wanting to write one recently but I can't think of much.

@muddyorbsblr @lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @fictive-sl0th @michelleleewise

#crimson peak #crimson peak fanfiction #lucille sharpe #thomas sharpe #sir thomas sharpe #edith cushing #thomas sharpe x reader #lucille sharpe x reader #edith cushing x reader

[lokislittlemidgardian]

Hey ria! I know it's a bit of a strange request but would you ever consider writing for crimson peak? Totally okay if you don't feel like it🥰

Oh thats an idea, I adore that film. If anybody would read caregiver Thomas/edith let me know<3

#be quiet ria #ria answers #crimson peak #thomas sharpe x reader #little!reader #edith sharpe x reader #sfw age regression

[muddyorbsblr]

the final Lady Sharpe part 4: something to look forward to

Series Masterlist See my full list of works here!

Part of the 500 Follower Celebration Requested by: @ellooo0ooo

Summary: You and Edith make significant progress on your mission to put Lucille behind bars; Thomas makes a confession before you go to sleep

Pairing: Thomas Sharpe x Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: ghosts; a lil bit of steam [let me know if I missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: Reader & Thomas are married; more pining; simp Thomas

The ink had dried enough on the final document you were working on duplicating for tonight that you could group them together and place the original papers back in Lucille's hiding place. Tomorrow morning if ever she were to check on them, she would be none the wiser of what had been transpiring over the last two weeks. You repeatedly clenched and unclenched your fingers, trying to get some feeling back into them after writing with barely a pause for break over the last few hours.

"Tomorrow we'll be done with all the documents," you whispered into the silence, feeling Edith's presence nearby as you made your way to Thomas' workshop. "I'll need you to show me where the phonograph cylinders are hidden, and if you know which one has Lucille's demented confession…"

"I'll show you the way," she confirmed. "And I'll make sure that none of the more…how do I put this…bloodthirsty spirits don't touch you. They tend to be a bit overly protective of their turf."

"The what?" You froze in place at her mention of bloodthirsty spirits. You had enough of a fright when you'd first "met" her and Enola, you might not survive encountering their less agreeable companions. The feel of someone nudging you from behind had you moving down the corridor again.

"Don't you worry about them, Y/N. I'll do my part to keep them away, explain to them that you're our friend, and you'll put an end to Lucille's lifelong murder spree. It might take time for them to fully understand, but they will."

Once you crossed the threshold to Thomas' workshop, you heard the exaggerated groan that belonged to your fleeting husband. Checking the candle in your hand, there was only about a thumb's worth left.

"Right on schedule," Edith remarked before you felt a nudging sensation on your shoulder. "You know he must really care for you if he's willing to endure being with her for the sake of your safety. Before she made him go back out into the city to find a new wife--well, a new victim, he looked gaunt. Almost like he found his life grotesque. Then he came back here with you and…there was color in his face again. Like he's allowed himself to live while he wooed and married you. There's a happiness in him when he's with you that I only ever saw glimpses of back when I was--"

Her words fell dead, but you had a feeling you knew what the sentiment was. Back when I was alive. Back when I was his wife.

"Why Miss Edith Cushing, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were playing matchmaker with your ex-husband and his current charlatan of a wife," you mumbled, trying not to look to deeply into her words, her testimony of Thomas' time before you. You were already having enough trouble keeping your affections for him at bay whenever he engaged in your routine of a kiss to cap off the night, marking yet another rung on the progression ladder. Lucille's incarceration becoming ever closer.

You decided to hide the duplicated papers in between the pages of his sketchbook, thinking the chances were slim that Lucille would look into them since he only kept concept art of the toys he wished to work on within it. Flipping through the pages to evenly distribute the additional papers, you found a set of sketches that had absolutely nothing to do with toy designs.

The last few pages that he'd worked on in the journal were filled with sketches of you. Some depicted you asleep, others as if the image he had in mind was of you next to him at the dining table. And a full page that showed the bedroom you shared with the baronet, you perched on the edge, a light wash of orange painted on the page, like the scene was illuminated by firelight.

That was the day you arrived at Allerdale Hall. The fleeting moments of desirous bliss you had before reality came crashing down on you.

"You say this marriage is all an act for you both now, but it doesn't look that way. Not from where I'm standing…well, floating." Both of you shared a chuckle before she posed a question at you. "Y/N something I noticed at night when he makes his way back to you…there's an excitement in him, as if he can't move fast enough."

"I--I didn't know about that part," you answered her in hushed tones as you made your way to your shared bedroom, maneuvering the barely moonlit halls with what little candlelight remained. "I usually try not to look at him before we sleep. I fail, of course, but I make the effort. Granting his request for a kiss after he washes the night off of him was already a miscalculation on my part--"

"Completely understandable miscalculation," she quipped, managing to quietly open the bedroom door wide open. "Far too handsome for me to even think of knowing any better back then."

"My thoughts exactly," you mumbled, stepping into the bedroom and disposing of the used candlewax before stretching and allowing yourself to relax from the night's clandestine activities. "Goodnight, Edith."

"I'll talk to the spirits inhabiting the corridor where the cylinders are hidden," she offered, a faint whispering joining her once again before you heard her echoing chuckle. "It seems your husband's rushing to make his way to you. You still have quite the night ahead. Goodnight, my friend."

You could feel the fatigue setting in as you let the tub fill for Thomas' bath before putting away your tools and your blades, mentally preparing yourself for another night of insufficient sleep. Just as you had for the better part of the last two weeks.

Right as you made your way back to your side of the bed and shook your hair loose from your bun, Thomas walked through the open door. You gave him a small smile. "I should be done with the documents tomorrow, Edith and I will work on transcribing the recording cylinders that can lead the case more to Lucille than you two days from now at the latest."

"That's wonderful news, darling," he beamed at you, running his gaze over you briefly before walking toward the bathroom. "I shall see you in a few moments," he told you, his voice echoing across the tiles. A few seconds later the sound of the water sloshing and a sinfully satisfied groan filled the room as he sat into the tub. "You truly are a godsend, my wife. Thank you."

You did your best to ignore the fluttering in your stomach hearing him call you that. You wouldn't hear it for much longer with the progress you were making. "You're welcome," you answered back, fighting back your own sounds of relief once your back hit the bed and you allowed yourself to finally relax for the night.

The cumulative efforts of the last dozen or so days seem to have finally taken its toll on you, your eyes fluttering shut as soon as your head hit the pillow. You hadn't been able to hear the sound of Thomas padding his feet on the floor and back to you, or his little gasp as he saw you in your slumbering state.

"No…" he sighed, climbing into bed with you. "Y/N, darling, please tell me you haven't completely fallen asleep yet," he said softly, brushing your hair away from your face.

"Hmm?" You leaned in to his touch, feeling a strange sense of comfort when your cheek rubbed against his slightly calloused hand. "'M awake…" you mumbled, slowly opening your eyes. He gave you a tender smile when your eyes met his, and you couldn't help but return it.

It was only in these moments just before you both went to sleep, your parts in this perilous operation done for the night, that you could allow yourself to almost feel as if you were a normal married couple. Just laying in bed together before going to sleep, sharing a quick goodnight kiss before he pulled you into his arms, cradling you against his chest.

Perhaps even indulge yourself, even for a moment, in the dangerous truth that once this was all over, you would miss these fleeting moments of peace with him. You'd miss how he held you through the night and how you'd wake up wrapped in his arms. How in the last few days he would greet you in the morning with a soft kiss to your nose before you both made your way out of bed and stepped out of your room.

You would miss him when all this was over. When you'd both signed the divorce papers and went on your separate ways, and you were back in your apartment in the city, going to bed alone, you would miss him.

He leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, a small sound coming from the back of his throat as he sighed into the kiss, almost as if he was relieved. "This is the only thing getting me through the nights," he said solemnly, settling more comfortably into the bed as he kept kissing you. "Knowing that this was what awaited me when I get back."

Instead of your usual night routine of a few kisses and he would pull you into his arms, both of you falling asleep to the sound of the other's breath evening out, he moved his body closer, kissing his way to your neck, his hand traveling down the side of your body until it settled at your waist. His lips began to trace along the neckline of your nightgown, the contented hums against your skin combined with the feel of his lips on you had you struggling for breath. "Thomas--"

"It should be you," he whimpered, his exhales warming your skin. "I should be spending my night with you. Laying with you." He kept on kissing along your neckline, his other hand pulling along the string that exposed your décolletage and he immediately pressed his lips to your chest, above your heart. "You're my wife, I should be with you."

He kissed his way back to your lips, your shock from his confession letting his tongue slip past your lips and tangle with your own. It was like flames licked all along your body at the contact, both of you moaning into each other's mouths as your fingers weaved into his onyx curls.

"Thomas, wait--" you tried to say, placing your hands on his chest in a paltry attempt to get him to pause for a moment, failing to fight against your eyes fluttering closed and your entire body melting under him the moment his tongue delicately ran along the roof of your mouth.

"I want to lay with you," he said once he pulled away, looking at you with those wide pleading eyes that likened him to a pup asking for a treat. "May I?"

For the love of all things good in this world say yes, you hissed at yourself. You struggled to breathe properly, fighting against every instinct to give in as he repeatedly whispered "please" into your skin. Trying to not let the curiosity and desire consume you and see how far your husband was willing to go.

This was the fantasy you wanted to lose yourself in, where by some miracle when all this was over and you both made it out alive, that you'd found something with each other that neither of you wanted to lose. That after all this perhaps you could have a life together, preferably far away from Allerdale Hall and the figurative and literal ghosts that roam the corridors.

The fantasy that perhaps when you were both safe from Lucille and she was serving her time behind bars, locked away where she couldn't harm anyone anymore, that Thomas might not want to sign the divorce papers. Because maybe he was falling in love, too.

"We've come so far already, we can't afford to lose focus now," you answered him, your voice coming out so small it was like the words all but refused to get through the lump in your throat. "Once all this is done, and we're free of her, you'll be free to do whatever you please…with whomever you please."

The last part left a bitter taste in your mouth, like it physically pained you to say the words.

"You're right," he sighed, leaning away enough so that he could look at you. The expression on his face was akin to that of a wounded pup, making the guilt and regret from your decision overwhelm your system. "Of course." He moved over to his side of the bed, taking a breath before hesitantly touching his fingers to yours. "May I still hold you?"

You didn't think twice, moving over to him and settling into his arms. "Yes, of course." The words refused to be spoken, but you'd found a strange comfort in his embrace. That despite the very real danger you both found yourselves in, and the looming dire consequences of Lucille and the business end of her cleaver if you made so much as one misstep on this perilous endeavor of yours, you felt almost a safety in his warm embrace.

And while no one would ever be able to get you to admit it, it made getting up out of bed in the mornings near impossible. You didn't want to leave him. You wanted him all to yourself.

All the more reason why you needed to be done with this and go your separate ways. You should never be so selfish as to beg him to stay with you and deny him yet another freedom. So much had already been stolen from him.

He brushed a lock of your hair away from your face before asking softly, "How long do you reckon before Scotland Yard comes here after you send the papers?"

"Not long," you answered him, your words full of confidence in your peers. "I'll include a summary of my findings to help them through the papers I've sent them, process them faster. I'll also try and emphasize the urgency of our situation, that we're currently living in a manor with a woman that has the intention and means, not to mention the stomach, to kill me. That we have very good reason to believe our lives are in imminent danger. Should get them moving pretty quick."

"And what are we to do until they arrive?" You could feel him tensing as he anticipated your response.

Bile flooded your stomach from what you had to tell him. "We keep routine." His beautiful face looked so pained as you said the words. "She has to believe that there's nothing wrong, that everything's going to plan. If she gets even the slightest whiff that we're up to something and she kills me. Maybe even you if she finds out that you helped."

He took a shuddering breath, pulling you closer against him so he could press a kiss to your forehead. "Let's hope they move quickly then," he mumbled against you, pressing more kisses on the same spot as he took calming breaths. "I can barely stomach any more of it." His breath hitched at his words, his tone rife with shame.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, placing your hand on his chest, feeling his pulse sprinting like a madman. "This burden shouldn't be on you. Never should have been. She's stolen so much from you…" Your sentiment caught in the back of your throat as you did your damnedest to fight back tears. "I'll do my best to make sure she doesn't steal any more of your life away."

"What if she figures out what we've been up to? Or if she gets impatient and realizes there's no money coming after all this time?"

It took you a moment before you could answer, the implication hanging over you both now like the Sword of Damocles. "Then Scotland Yard will arrive here to a corpse. Either mine or hers."

Tears welled in his eyes as he pulled you closer, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. "I won't let her hurt you, I swear it." He stole a few more kisses from you before he cradled your head against his chest. "You should sleep, I can feel how tired you are."

"Exhausted," you confessed, settling into his embrace, the comfort from his hold blanketing over you as your cheek rubbed against the soft hairs on his chest. "Goodnight, husband."

You couldn't resist calling him that. In a few short weeks you'd never be able to again.

He pressed his lips to the top of your head, stroking your hair before he whispered, "Goodnight, my darling wife."

As the minutes passed, and the only sounds that filled the bedroom were your breathing and the crackling of the fireplace, Thomas found himself unable to succumb to sleep just yet. He was still riddled with so many questions that he couldn't bring himself to ask you quite yet.

What if by some freak accident of a chance, Lucille comes across one of your colleagues when she runs her errands in the city and they were to mention who you were, and what you did before you married him? What if now that she was armed with this new information, she deemed you too much of a threat and decided to do away with you like she'd done with so many other innocent women?

What if she decided to make it even worse, and ordered him to kill you instead? Spout some nonsensical notion that he needed to get his hands dirty this time around so she could see if he still had the stomach for it?

He knew he wouldn't be able to hurt you, that he would be completely unwilling to. But would he be able to protect you against Lucille?

And the question that had him looking upon the coming weeks with a mix of dread and hope, all depending on how you would react if he were to even muster up the courage to say the words: What if you stayed together after this fleeting partnership of yours? What if you were open to exploring what a life together would truly be like? Move away from Allerdale Hall and find a place in the city?

"What if I begged you not to leave me?" he whispered into the empty silence, stroking the backs of his fingers along your cheek. "What if I've fallen in love with my wife, and I want to turn our marriage into something real?"

A/N: *popping out my head from my writing hidey hole* Well hi there! Been a long while since I updated this story, but I can promise you now…I didn't abandon it 🫡 And we're picking up with our precious meow meow baronet big tiddy goth husband really showing his hand here that he's catching feelings 🥹

everything taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog

#thomas sharpe x reader #thomas sharpe x female reader #crimson peak fanfic #crimson peak fanfiction #the final lady sharpe #muddyorbs writes #fic requests #500 follower celebration

[five-miles-over]

The Phantom of Asgard - Part Two (Thor: The Dark World!Loki x Reader)

(Thank you @michelleleewise for this artwork)

Summary: It has been three days since you or anyone else in Asgard has seen a sign from the Phantom. Meanwhile, your friend tries to use a book from Midgard to convince you that ghosts exist.

Warnings: dark!Loki ,hypnotism, mentions of the plot of "Crimson Peak"

You closed the door behind you. "What are we doing here? I thought you were too scared of the Phantom to venture in the palace after dark."

"This library is different from that one. We're safe." Revna sat down on one of the comfy armchairs, leaning back. Ingrid, on the other hand, immediately searched through several books within a section of the library labeled as "Midgardian literature" as soon as she finished lighting a few candles. She pulled out a dark red hardcover book with a black stripe on the binding. "This is where Prince Thor kept his special books from Midgard. I heard from one of the Warriors Five who heard it from the All-Father himself that these books were brought from another library found in a place called New York."

"As in…New York where Thor fought alongside a bunch of so-called heroes?" You raised an eyebrow.

Ingrid placed the book in a table in front of Revna. "I thought I would show you this book since you still don;'t believe in the existence of the Phantom of Asgard."

"Actually…" Revna adjusted her position on the couch, "you never told us what happened two nights ago when we went to investigate the Phantom. We heard you screaming…and then nothing."

You ran your fingers through your hair and knelt beside her. "I told you what happened. Nothing," you lied.

"I'm not buying it."

"Well, I'm not selling." You quipped. "Crimson Peak?" You turned your attention to the hardcover, stroking the leather cover and eyeing the gold lettering.

"Crimson Peak, written by Edith Sharpe." Ingrid opened to the first page, which contained a dedication to the author's father and to her childhood friend Alan McMichael. "It's a book about this woman who married a dark, handsome man whose family home is filled with ghosts hiding in red clay!" Ingrid moved a candle closer to the book. "Maybe Lady Sharpe will change your mind about phantoms."

For the next hour, Ingrid took it upon herself to play narrator, putting on a dreamier-than-usual voice to reenact Edith's thoughts when she encountered the Sharpe siblings for the first time. 

As for Revna, she quickly became invested in the story. All she needed was the writer description of Edith's first kiss with her husband Baronet Thomas Sharpe in his workshop - the way he lifted her skirt and pinned her against the window, his passion overtaking him in the moment as he crashed his lips onto hers. "That's it." Revna declared with a loud sigh. "I want a Thomas Sharpe of my own." 

"Well, why don't you ask Prince Thor to bring you one when he visits Midgard again?" You teased her. 

Ingrid tutted. "Don't be hasty, ladies…" 

"Please, I would bet that he could out-dance all of the men of Asgard." Revna leaned back again, crossing one leg over the other.

"That's because no one here knows how to waltz." Ingrid turned the page and continued to read.

With every detail about Lady Edith's experience as the wife of Thomas Sharpe, encountering ghosts in 'Crimson Peak" that warned her of Thomas's previous marriages, you begin to picture eery, faceless monsters - no, walking skeletons - covered in red liquid that dripped with every movement. It was a far cry from the Phantom you encountered, who was truly just the God of Mischief in hiding.

But just as things started to sound too grim, the story would mention some intimate detail about Thomas, like the part of how surprisingly strong his arms were underneath the loose white shirts he wrote. And those were most entertaining to listen to, not because of how perfectly Edith expressed her love for her husband in a nuanced manner, but because of how they made Revna close her eyes and sigh, almost as if she were the one in Edith's place. You and Ingrid - how on earth was she still able to maintain a good narrative pace? - couldn't hold back peels of laughter.

"Ingrid…" Revna moaned softly, throwing her head back, which was starting to bead with sweat. "I want him."

"Even after he murdered his father-in-law, and his ex-wives?"

"He's a human and we're from Asgard" Revna countered. "I'll deal with his sister before the wedding. I'll set her up with someone."

You snickered. "Oh, so we're talking about a wedding?"

"Yeah, why not? I'll have him stay in Asgard with us."

"Let's hope the Phantom doesn't get to him," Ingrid reminded you both, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes.

"Still scared?" Revna rested her chin on her palm.

Ingrid closed the book. "No one has seen him or heard from him in the past three days." She lowered her voice to a whisper, "What if he's planning a murder? Or worse…?"

"Then we'll just have Thomas's sister deal with him."

"You're insane," you interjected under your breath and hugged your knees underneath your gown while your thoughts wandered to the Phantom. Maybe no one has heard from him because he's left Asgard. He was, after all, the God of Mischief. It would be easier to search Midgard for a Thomas Sharpe doppelgänger than to attempt to completely understand Loki's psyche. And whatever he did, or wherever he went, you were bound to find out about it at some point.

Still…there was one thing you hadn't managed to understand about your encounter with the Phantom: why you? Or rather, what did he want with you? Before going into hiding as the phantom, the god of mischief was known for his silver tongue, begrudgingly praised by Asgardians. He always knew how to get what he wanted, how he wanted, and when he wanted it, one way or another. So there must have been an ulterior motive behind him showing you his magic. Some twisted, dark reason for him holding you close, touching you so intimately while he confessed the truth behind the Phantom of Asgard.

And what of the lilly he left behind when he disappeared into the night? You could still picture its pristine white petals and perfectly-cut stem, which was decorated by a green silk ribbon whose hue resembled the cape worm by the younger prince in formal events. Perhaps if you'd encountered two or more other maidens with similar 'presents' from the Phantom of Asgard, you’d have suspected that the God of Mischief had adopted a philandering persona. Though between the two princes of Asgard, it was Thor who cavorted with noble girls and laid with whomever caught his eye. Loki, on the other hand, struck you as the more romantic one, the kind of prince described in tales whispered among girls as they brushed each others’ hair. The type of prince who would never think to look at anyone else with desire after he lost his heart to someone.

“Hey?” Revna snapped her fingers in front of you, amidst Ingrid giggling. “Hello? You alright?

You blinked, accidentally saved from your own wandering mind. “We should probably head to bed…I’m fine, just tired.”

"You’re bluffing.” Revna crossed her arms. “Seriously, what happened that night? You refuse to tell us anything, and clearly you are off.”

“Look, the phantom just…” You swallowed and stood up reluctantly, wrapping your finger around the edge of another sofa. “He…he didn’t do anything. I couldn’t see him but I…I felt something hold me.” You increased your pitch to sound more nonchalant. “And then he sent me on my way.”

“So he hugged you?” Ingrid stepped closer after she returned the book.

You confirmed her words. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

“That’s weird.” Revna made her way to the door and Ingrid extinguished most of the candles in the library fro the night. “Well, try to get some sleep. Who knows, maybe it was a one-time thing. At least he was nice…”

You mumbled a ‘yes’, and Revna decided that all three of you ought to head to your bedroom now. She descended down the steps of the library with Ingrid following suit.

But before you could blow out the last candle in the library, the doors swung shut with a booming thud. Holding the flickering candle by your side, you strode towards the entrance of the library only to be stopped by a harsh whisper.

“No.”

You turned around to find none other than the beautiful Phantom of Asgard standing behind you with his silk gloves, tailored black waistcoat and signature emerald mask. His raven curls and pale, square-like forehead not obscured by the mask glowed in the faint candlelight.

Your fingers pressed further into the candlestick, not caring if they left an imprint in the wax. “You…you’re not supposed to be in this part of the library.” You muttered, inching your other hand towards the doorknob and twisting it.

“And why not? Because I’m a phantom, doomed to haunt only the darkest hall, past the throne room?” He darkly chuckled, taking a step forward. With a simple flick of the wrist, the doorknob you held instantly went stiff. “Don’t pretend you don’t know the truth.”He delicately clasped your chin. “Tell me who I am.”

“You’re the God of Mischief.”

He wrapped his gloved fingers around your cheek and leaned in even closer. “Say my name.”

Heat rose in your cheeks and between your thighs. You closed your eyes, struggling to believe just how easily he could make you flushed with just a single touch. “You’re Prince Loki.”

The God of Mischief answered you by pressing his forehead against yours, while his other hand held your shoulder.

“My prince….” You felt his lips against the tip of your nose. “Don’t tease.”

“And what should I do instead?” He taunted, whispering against the side of your face. “This?” He lightly kissed your neck, and smirked when you let out a sigh. “If only you knew how much I have missed your warmth. Have you been thinking of me, sweet one?”

“How did you know?” You tried to look down only for the God of Mischief to force your eyes to meet his. “Forget I ask,” you faltered. “You’re the God of Mischief.”

“Exactly.” Loki walked backward, leading you to a couch. “Honestly, must you ladies always be in packs like she-wolves?” He remarked in a playful tone. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you alone in this palace once.”

You chose to remain silent as Loki’s hand rested on your waist, and you sensed him reappear behind you, his chest pressed against your back. “It pains me to be away from you, sweet one.”

Your hand slid down across your body, towards his. “My prince…”

“Loki.”You glanced over your shoulder. “You say that I am the only one who knows the truth…”

“Yes?” He goaded with a light kiss behind your ear.

"Then why…” You began, wondering how best to pose your question to the god of Mischief. It certainly didn’t help that his other hand inched towards your rib, lingering just below your breast. “Why? Why are you….touching me?”

He froze. “You don’t like it?” In that moment ,Loki’s voice dropped to a scared murmur, a voice so innocent and fearful that it could’ve been mistaken for a boy’s.

“No…I do like it but…” You took a deep breath. “You could have any woman in this palace, in any of the Nine Realms. Why me?”

“Because you are the only one who sees me as I am, and yet chooses my company.” Loki pushed a few locks of your hair aside. “I do not want you solely for your beauty, sweet one. I also want you for your heart.” He nuzzled against your hair. “Were someone to take you away from this place, I swear that I would burn this palace to the ground…”

“Loki.” You swallowed. Did he just say that he wanted your heart? That he would set Asgard on fire at a moment’s notice?

“Stay by my side, even if it’s only for a few moments,” he pleaded, caressing your hair. “Turn your face away from this garish light of day,…and simply take delight in this darkness, with each of its sensations.” Loki wrapped his long fingers around your neck. His intoxicating whisper drove away any defensive part of you that wanted to flee.

“As you wish,” was all that left your lips.

He rested on the couch, with you in his arms. “Someday, I’ll show you the stories in this library I enjoy the most. But tonight, all I ask is that you relieve me from my solitude.” Loki kept his fingers entangled in your hair, with the other hand resting on your own arm. He whispered, for your ears only,

“I ditt smil mitt hjerte finner ro,

I dine øyne, kjærlighet jeg for alltid skal tro."

(In your smile, my heart finds peace,

In your eyes, love I shall forever believe.)

He repeated the couplet two more times, and a strange calm fell over you. Your eyelids started to grow heavy, and your limbs became numb, like you were melting into a puddle. In a matter of moments, you fell fast asleep, a peaceful smile on your face.

“My beauty…” Loki whispered. For a brief moment, Loki lifted his mask and leaned down to kiss your eyelid. He slid the mask back on and simply held you for a few moments. While you slept in his embrace, Loki pondered to himself about the future of Asgard. He contemplated about how or if he would ever convey the news of him “not quite dying” to Thor.

How would he explain the disappearance of the All-father from Asgard? Would his punishment be worsened? No, that wouldn’t be possible, given that his original sentence was to spend the rest of his godly not-terribly-signifiant life in the dungeons.

“In due time,” Loki uttered to no one in particular. With those words, the God of Mischief lifted you in his arms in a bridal carry, and opened the library doors with a silent spell.

Once he brought you to his chambers, the God of Mischief placed you on a round bed adorned with ivory white satin bedsheets and gold pillows. He gently positioned you so that you lay on your side, and pushed the strands of hair obscuring your face. Then he conjured an emerald green cape and draped it over your body.

Would that he could, he would join you in his bed and hold you close as your heartbeat lulled him to sleep. But it would leave him far too vulnerable. What if you tried to remove his mask while he slept, lest you became repulsed by his looks, leaving him in the early hours of daylight? Alone in his bed, surrounded with his own demons and his own battles to fight? It was better that he suppress his own desires, at least for now. Forcing himself to tear his gaze away from your perfection, the God of Mischief closed the door of his own chamber and disappeared into the night.

Tagging: @icytrickster17 @mischievoushiddleston,@lokischambermaid , @lady-rose-moon , @lokisgoodgirl , @lokisninerealms @jennyggggrrr ,, @tom-hiddleston-imagines , @lokiismineforever @smolvenger @winterfrostlovetriangle , @the-haven-of-fiction , @turniptitaness @cakesandtom ,@sallymagnoliaposts @leahs-reading-nook @holdmytesseract @muddyorbsblr @anukulee @acidcasualties @lotsoflokilove23 @caffiend-queen @aesonmae @asgards-princess-of-mischief @eleniblue @fruityfucker @el-zef @huntress-artemiss @evelyn-rathmore @lovingchoices14

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki odinson #loki god of mischief #loki fanfic #mcu loki #Loki x female reader #loki of asgard #marvel loki #loki x reader fic

[mischievoushiddleston]

Descendant

Warnings: Smut, Non-Con, Ghost sex

Pairing: Thomas Sharpe x Reader

Masterlist here!

Request by @jadep2003 hope you like it 💚

"You can put the box there..." said Y/N to one of the movers, pointing to a spot in the room. She had spent several months restoring Allerdale Hall so that people could live in there again. It had its charm and she loved old buildings like that. When her grandmother Edith passed away recently, she passed it on to her because her mother probably never would have wanted it either. Edith always told her the stories that had happened to her here, but also left some out. Y/M/N hated her stories and never wanted her to tell Y/N, although it never stopped her from telling her. Finally all the boxes had been carried into the house and she sighed. It had all been pretty exhausting today. She stroked her hair and stopped in front of a mirror.

She had inherited a lot from her grandmother when she was younger, only her hair and eye color were different from Edith. She felt a cool rush of air against the back of her neck and shuddered a little. Everyone thought Allerdale Hall was haunted, but Y/N didn't believe in ghosts, unlike her grandmother. She looked around and saw that the kitchen window was open. She went there and closed it before going into the living room and lighting the fireplace. Y/N went into the kitchen and turned on the kettle to make herself some warm tea. Luckily she had modernized everything here so she had electronics here, although there was still a wireless hole here so she couldn't connect to the internet. Finally the water boiled and she poured it into the cup and put the tea bag in before walking over to her sofa and sitting down. She enjoyed the warmth of fire and sighed in relaxation and closed her eyes.

Suddenly, she heard a loud noise from upstairs. She frowned and put down her cup before getting up and starting to walk upstairs. Was it foolish to go up without any protection? It wasn't like there were many people in the area. Besides, who would break in here? There was nothing of value here....

The lights began to flicker a little as she approached the stairs to the top floor. "Come to me..." she heard a voice barely audible whisper. No, she thought, imagining it. She stopped and sighed. Probably she was just tired...

However, she couldn't shake this feeling that someone was watching her and Y/N got goosebumps. She went back to the living room, but stopped at a portrait. It was of her grandmother's then owner and first husband, Thomas Sharpe. He was an attractive man and seemed to want to do the right thing in the end, but was killed by his sister. Eventually she moved on and sat back down on the sofa and wrapped a blanket around herself as it was getting colder. She didn't know when, but eventually she fell asleep there.

Thomas had been watching her all along, as he had all the months since she had restored Allerdale Hall. She was the spitting image of her grandmother. He walked over to her and sat down on the side of the sofa next to her. It had been so long since he had seen Edith and Y/N began to awaken his desires. All those years alone and cursed to be a ghost. Thomas stroked her cheek with a finger, but she only felt a cool rush of air and moved a little. He pulled down her blanket and leaned in to kiss her neck as he stroked his fingers over her breast and could already feel her nipple getting hard. Thomas let his hand move further down between her thighs and rubbed her pussy a little through her pants. This touch made her whimper a little.

"You will be mine," he said softly against her neck and she suddenly opened her eyes in shock and looked around fearfully, but Thomas was already gone. Y/N swallowed and got up to go to bed. She went to her bedroom and undressed, not noticing that Thomas was watching her as he sat in the chair in front of the full-length mirror, rubbing his erection a little through his pants.

Y/N lay down in the bed after putting on a nightgown and pulled the covers over herself to fall asleep. It didn't take long for her to fall deeply asleep either. Thomas got up and walked over to her before opening his shirt and then sliding his pants and her down before pulling her covers down and carefully pulling her legs apart. He sat down between her legs and stroked her legs. She shivered a little and Thomas smiled wickedly and pushed up her nightgown and pulled down her panties, always careful not to wake her, at least not yet. He stroked his cock as he looked her up and down, moaning excitedly and stroking the crease of her pussy with one finger. She moaned a little in her sleep.

Thomas smiled and thrust a single finger inside her. She was tight one finger and he couldn't wait to see how she would feel around his cock. Slowly he began to thrust it in and out of her, enjoying the way she moaned softly and writhed under him. But he didn't want to risk waking her before he had his cock inside her. He pulled his finger out of her and guided his cock to her entrance and rubbed it against it before pushing the tip into her, making her whimper and moan a little louder.

Thomas pulled her legs a little further apart and looked at her as he thrust his cock deep into her pussy in one hard and fast thrust. She widened her eyes when she felt it and tried to move, but he had already grabbed her wrists and held her still as he started thrusting into her quickly. Y/N looked at him in shock and didn't know what was happening at first, but then realized it and tried to stop him.

"Stop it! Let me go!" she screamed and moaned as he thrust deep inside her again and bit her neck.

"God, you're so tight...It's been so long since I felt a woman around my cock," he moaned as he continued to thrust hard and fast into her pussy. Y/N couldn't believe what was happening. She was being taken against her will by a man who looked like the portrait of Thomas. But it couldn't be her late grandmother's first husband, could it? He was dead and even if he was alive, he was never that young. Tears streamed down her cheeks as he continued to fuck her. Thomas kissed her cheek with a tear running down it. "Don't cry...I'm going to have so much fun with you and you're going to enjoy it..."

She heard his words and gasped as he sat up and released her hands to wrap a hand around her throat. The new angle caused him to bump against her G-spot with each thrust of his cock, making her moan loudly. She looked at him as he fucked her pussy and clawed at his arm, trying to resist, but Thomas didn't move a bit, just smiled wickedly. Surely he couldn't be real? She closed her eyes. This is all a nightmare and you're about to wake up, she tried to tell herself, none of this ever happened-.

She arched her back and moaned loudly as he thrust hard into her, forcing her eyes open. "S-stop..." she begged softly, but Thomas ignored her. He watched her breasts jiggle with each of his thrusts. He let one hand wander down to her clit and began rubbing it. Against her will, she felt her orgasm building quickly inside her.

"So tight..." he moaned through clenched teeth. She began to tighten and it became hard for him to thrust in and out of her. "Cum for me."

Thomas rubbed her clit faster and his thrusts became erratic. Unexpectedly, she cum all over his cock and her vision went black as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. He continued to thrust into her until he was deep inside her, filling her with his cum. Y/N was breathing heavily as she felt this and Thomas finally pulled out of her. She glared at him and swallowed as he smiled wickedly again and leaned in to her ear.

"Edith may not have gotten pregnant by me, but maybe you..." he said darkly in her ear. Could that be possible? He was a ghost, but then again, it shouldn't be possible for him to even touch her, let alone have sex with her. She closed her eyes and let another tear run down her cheek, when she opened them again he was gone.

"This is going to be fun..." she heard his voice say laughing out of nowhere.

#smut #thomas sharpe #thomas sharpe smut #crimson peak #Ghost sex #rape #non con

[lady-rose-moon]

To escape || Thomas Sharpe x Reader ||

Pairing: Thomas Sharpe x Reader

My Main Masterlist

Summary: after finding out the dark truth about Allerdale Hall, you confront Thomas. Through time, you plan to escape with your husband.

Warning: angst, Lucille, happy ending, fluff, (anything else? I don't think so)

Reading through the files that you had discovered, bile raised up your throat at the horror of what had occurred here at Allerdale Hall. The last file that you picked up was labelled 'Edith Cushing'. You took time to look through the file and saw that she was a beautiful blonde girl, a smile permanently etched onto her lips as she held Thomas's arm and laughed. A letter fell out of her file and you picked it up eagerly.

"If there is ever a next one, this message is a warning. You mustn't stay here! They are killing me with the poison in the tea! If I fail to survive, please run. Thomas may have fallen in love with me but Lucille will do anything to keep him to herself. Learn the truth, follow him when he leaves his bed. Do not trust the tea or the food."

Staring down at the note in horror, you immediately stood from the table and vacated the library in a hurry. As you ran up the creaking stairs, you heard Thomas's voice call your name out through the house and your heart froze. You had to get out!

Desperately, you ran into your bedroom and pulled out the suitcase that you had buried beneath the bed. You quickly piled everything into the suitcase as tears covered your vision and you released broken sobs as you thought back to when you had first met Thomas.

You were at one of the parties your father was throwing for your birthday. Dressed in the elegant gown that he demanded you wore, you stood with your back to the wall with a permanent frown on your face. Your father expected a marriage to be rid of you now that his youthful second wife had given him a son to carry on his business.

"Excuse me?" came a voice to your right and you turned, coming face to face with a handsome face that was smiling at you although the smile barely reached his eyes, "may I have this dance?"

You hesitated for a moment as the man offered you his hand but once you slipped your gloved hand into his and felt how soft his skin was beneath your glove, you gave him a gentle smile and allowed him to guide you onto the dance floor.

"I'm Thomas," the man introduced himself, his oceanic blue eyes sparkling as he gazed down at you, beginning the waltz and guiding you across the dance floor.

"You probably know who I am," you whispered softly, looking away from his stunning eyes and over to the scornful eyes of your father. The man nodded and promptly left the ballroom. Your marriage to this stranger was set.

Your marriage was quick after that and the dowry was paid to Thomas quickly. The move away from your family home in the warmer part of the Midlands of England was harsh, especially so when you entered Allerdale and felt the sheer cold of the building.

"Y/N?" Thomas's voice broke your memories and your head snapped up from packing everything to stare at him in horror, "what are you... don't leave!"

You scowled and picked up the object closest to you, a simple glass and you shattered it before thrusting the remnants in front of you in a way of protecting yourself, "don't come any closer!"

Thomas frowned and backed away a little, closing the bedroom door behind him as he eyed you. "What will you do?" he asked softly, his hands shaking with the nerves, "please don't leave, the snow is falling and it will be impossible to-"

"Anywhere is better than here!" you sneered, feeling like a cornered animal as Thomas stepped closer. The Baronet frowned as he gently took the glass from your hand and your tears fell quickly in terror, "please don't kill me."

Thomas's gaze softened as he stared at you, seeing the same terror on your face as it had on Edith's face as she was falling from the third floor to her death. "It's not me that wants you dead, darling," the Baronet whispered, feeling you tug away from him but he kept holding you firmly, "Y/N, please."

"I don't believe you!" you yelled, tears cascading down your face as you tried to tug yourself away from him, "what else do I not know, Thomas?!"

The Baronet faltered and looked over to the door, the sensation of being watched feeling like moths crawling under his skin and he pressed his lips to yours to keep you from rambling on. Once he pulled away, he stayed close to your lips in a way that resembled him still kissing you but he whispered to you, "we're both in danger with Lucille still here. She murdered Edith because I loved her... She'll kill you when she finds out I love you and then... I will be next."

You looked up into his eyes with disbelief before you saw the fear sparkling through his eyes and you sighed sadly, resting your head on his chest, "what do we do?"

The Baronet took a few seconds to think before whispering, "we wait it out."

"Thomas-" you tried to interrupt him but he shushed you.

"We must," he whispered desperately, "I shall brew your tea the proper way, without poison. We cannot leave yet, not until I get something sorted."

You searched his eyes for any sign of trickery but you knew deep down that the man was being honest and you frowned as you nodded, "we shall wait it out."

Thomas nodded and pressed another soft kiss to your lips as a 'thank you' and then he pulled away, making sure to stand in the way of the suitcase so Lucille couldn't see you were planning to leave. "I'll be sure to tell Lucille, my darling," Thomas spoke a little louder so that Lucille could hear, "the sickness should pass soon."

Thomas left your room and frowned at the sight of Lucille on her knees, staring at the keyhole. "It is rude to eavesdrop, Lucille," the Baronet whispered, helping his elder sister to her feet before beginning to walk off, "she knows nothing."

"The files were laid out, Thomas," his sister spat, hatred burning in her eyes as she looked over her shoulder at the door to your room, "she knows, she has to."

Thomas put on his best guilty face and he looked down at the floor, watching Lucille stop and gaze at him. "I got sentimental, Lucille," the Baronet smoothly lied, hearing Lucille tut affectionately, "I dug out the files to see the photo of our little boy."

Pain flashed over Lucille's face and she sighed, embracing her brother while whispering in his ear, "we shall have one again once your business is running."

~~~~~~~~~~

Two months passed like that. You were tense around Lucille but did your best to play it off as a sickness though you were beginning to feel under the weather lately. You didn't need much sickness to tell that you were pregnant with Thomas's heir and suddenly, life in Allerdale became all the more terrifying.

One night when Thomas came to do his cordial hour with you that he had promised to Lucille was just him going to bed with you to make you think that he did sleep beside you, you waited on the bed while he left the bathroom, his torso bare and the pants hugging his legs dropping low enough to show the beginning of the V-line.

"Is something the matter, my darling?" Thomas asked with an easy smile, facing you and gesturing with his hands that you were being watched by Lucille.

"Can you help me with the hot water? I need a bath and I still haven't gotten the hang of the taps," you smiled sheepishly before standing from the bed and walking to the doors, locking it before heading into the bathroom with Thomas.

The Baronet released a breath that he didn't know he was holding before he turned to you with a frown, "what is the matter, sweet darling?"

You bit your lip before you stared up at him and admired the blueness of his eyes before whispering, "I'm pregnant."

Thomas froze and the colour left his face as his eyes darted down to your stomach. Pure fear raced through his heart with your admission, how were you going to hide this from Lucille until he got the tickets he needed to get you out of here?!

"No," Thomas whispered, his brows pulling together as he gently held the sides of your stomach, "not now, this cannot be happening."

Your hands trembled as you rested them against his chest and whimpered, "it's happening. I'm sorry, Thomas, I didn't realise-"

"This isn't your fault," Thomas whispered firmly, his thumb tenderly caressing your stomach as love filled his eyes, "but I'm nowhere near getting us those tickets and this is going to be so difficult to hide from Lucille! She already suspects me of stopping the poison!"

"Then don't get the transportation right now!" you whisper-yelled, panic evident on your face, "we can go visit my father and my little brother, tell Lucille that I missed home and then grab a ticket while we stay there! Please, Thomas, if she finds out about this baby..."

"She won't," Thomas answered firmly, looking deep into your eyes as he made the promise, "I will make sure that our baby lives, my love!"

You nodded fearfully and sighed as you rested your head on his shoulder, "I'm scared."

"I'm scared too," Thomas whispered as he pressed a firm kiss to your forehead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two nights later, you decided it was time to begin your plan. Sat at the dining table, Lucille served the food and you knew it wasn't poisoned because that would mean Lucille would need to poison them all.

"I was thinking of going to my father's house for a few days," you whispered as you dug into your food, hearing the clatter of Lucille's fork hitting the plate as she stared at you in disbelief, "Lucille? Is something the matter?"

The lady stared at you for a moment before looking at Thomas and straightening herself, "we are sorry to see you go," the woman whispered with her voice full of hate.

"Actually," you began nervously, looking at Lucille and seeing the rising anger in her eyes, "Thomas is coming with me. You see, my stepmother never got to meet my darling husband and that must be put right."

"But Thomas has a business to run," the lady protested, her eyes darting over to Thomas pleadingly, "he will have no time to go with you to the Midlands! So far away from home!"

Thomas cleared his throat and looked away from his meal to stare at his sister, "I am going with my wife, Lucille. It is frowned upon for a married woman to go somewhere without their husband."

"Thomas!" Lucille protested desperately, her hands quaking with her anger, "you mustn't! Your business! What about me?"

"Well, certainly you could survive a few days without us, Lucille?" you whispered unsurely before flinching back when she pointed her butter knife at you.

The Baronet moved closer to you and glared at his sister. "That's enough," he spoke with dominant finality, "I am going with my wife and that is final."

Lucille's chair scraped across the tile floor and she rose, promptly leaving the kitchen while seething. You bit your lip and looked over at Thomas nervously and your husband mirrored your terrified face. Lucille wasn't stupid, she knew Thomas was slipping into the abyss of love again. They had to leave before she could act.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The carriage arrived two hours later and while you were being helped with loading the luggage, Lucille pulled Thomas aside to speak with him.

"What are you doing?!" the woman snarled, her eyes searching Thomas's for any sign of his love for her. She found it, Thomas had perfected his act of the manipulated loving brother, the incestuous boy that sought out only his sister for his pleasure. Under the facade, he was desperate to get away and burn that mask of his.

"Her father doesn't know that she is coming," Thomas whispered, watching Lucille's eyes become curious at the revelation. "I crafted the note she received telling her that they wished to see her and she firmly stated that she wished to go. We have her money. She's not coming back."

Lucille eyed him for a moment before nodding and reaching up to press a kiss to his soft cheek. "I cannot wait for you to get home," she whispered, her hand trailing down his arm, "that way, we can bring our child into the world again."

Thomas nodded and hugged her before getting into the carriage beside you and allowing the driver to set off. He turned and waved to Lucille, to the manor, to Sir Thomas Sharpe Baronet of Allerdale Hall.

Once you were down the hill and out of sight of the horrible house, you sighed in relief and shuffled closer to Thomas, resting your head on his shoulder and smiling as his hand rested over your pregnant belly. "We are free," you whispered and smiled when Thomas released a relieved sigh and his lips pressed against your forehead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The carriage arrived at your father's manor and you stepped out, greeted by the warm arms of your stepmother who whispered to you, "oh thank God you're alright! Your husband sent a letter that explained your situation! Darling, are you alright?"

You nodded and held her arms gently before pulling away and sighing in relief. "Thank you for allowing us to stay," you mumbled, feeling Thomas's hand slide into your own, "with Carter, I thought you'd reject."

"Reject you?" your stepmother asked in shock, squeezing your hand gently as she frowned, "I would never! Your father might but you are my daughter, you are allowed to stay whenever you must. Now, are you going to introduce me to your husband?"

Your eyes widened in realisation and you turned to Thomas with a smile. "Evelyn, meet Thomas! Thomas, meet Evelyn, my stepmother!" you smiled, watching as Thomas took your stepmother's hand and kissed her knuckle.

"An honour to meet you, Mrs Y/L/N," Thomas greeted politely, smirking at the blush that spread across her features, "my many thanks for allowing us to stay."

The elder woman fanned herself and smiled before looping her arm through yours and guiding you into the manor, "I'm glad you married him! I get to see him every day for a while now!"

"Mother!" you admonished the woman with a grin, finally realising that your stepmother wasn't as bad as you had thought before. She was a sweet woman and so different to your stubborn and neglectful father.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Your stay at your father's manor lasted a lengthy month before Thomas was able to secure the tickets that would get you a cruise to Norway and the carriage to take you to the home he had bought for the both of you.

Standing in front of the liner, you stared at it hesitantly as your hand rested on your growing baby bump. "Now remember," your stepmother began, tearing you away from your thoughts, "send letters as much as you can and do make sure to visit, will you? I'm sure Carter would love to meet his nephew or niece when they are born."

You laughed and kissed her cheek. "I shall send letters, I swear," you grinned and looked up at Thomas, seeing him nodding in approval to the conversation your father held him in, "I shall also warn you that if Lucille comes knocking, call the police, she's dangerous."

"I will heed your warning, dear," your stepmother nodded and she squeezed your hand gently, "do not worry, your father is organising a new manor to be built in the Yorkshire Dales."

The blowing horn of the liner distracted you from the conversation and Thomas curtly ended his conversation with your father before he smiled at you and offered you his hand, walking onto the boat once you slipped your hand into his.

As the ship set sail away from the dock, you saw a flurry of red and your heart sank at the sight of Lucille running to the end of the dock. The liner was too far away for her to do anything but her desperate call of 'THOMAS! DON'T LEAVE ME' was clearly heard against the wind.

The Baronet stared at his sister until she was a mere red speck on the horizon and then he turned to you, cupping your cheek and pressing his lips firmly to yours with a soft sight. When he pulled away, you locked eyes and he whispered tenderly, "we're going home."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@lokisgoodgirl @lokisninerealms @evelyn-kingsley @slpnbty2001 @jennyggggrrr @hahaha12123445 @ozymdias @holdmytesseract @itsybitchylittlewitchy @lovingchoices14 @xorpsbane @huntress-artemiss @muddyorbs @nerdy-fangirl-65 @lonadane @silverfire475 @chantsdemarins @iamsherlocked1479 @kittiowolf210 @just-someone11

#sir thomas sharpe x reader #sir thomas sharpe #sir thomas sharpe x female reader #thomas sharpe x reader #tom hiddleston #thomas sharpe baronet #crimson peak thomas x reader #crimson peak 2015

[unamazing-sheep21]

Rough comic about how I think a POTO and Crimson Peak double date would look like

this would happen pretty often

#phantom of the opera #gothic romance #byronic hero #crimson peak #edith x thomas #edith cushing #thomas sharpe #erik poto #christine x erik #christine daae #erik destler #Tee Hee hee

[prettybillycore]

FOR TOMMY | TWO

Pairing(s): Thomas Shelby x Original Character

Universe: Peaky Blinders / Fantastic Beasts

Summary: Veela and Seer- a powerful combination of traits for one person to have. Edith Lillian Scamander falls in love with a young Thomas Shelby while working in a nurse’s ward during WWI. Will her feelings be requited, or will she be doomed to pine over the man of her dreams for eternity hopelessly?

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 0.8k

Warnings: domestic violence

Read on AO3 or Scroll down to read it right here on Tumblr below the cut!

It was several days before Lilli received that letter from Tommy, but when it came, her whole demeanor shifted. She had been reading in her study, something she did quite often when the mail arrived. One of the house staff, Martha, knocked quietly on her door. Lilli ushered her inside, casting a dull glaze over her eyes. Martha always collected the mail and passed it out among the members of the Malfoy family. She was the only one in the house that even knew of Tommy’s name. She had no idea who he was, but she dared not breathe his name around Lucretius; she knew that would be a death sentence. She smiled a simple gesture in an attempt to brighten Lilli’s somber expression. Lucretius was home this particular day because the letter arrived on a Sunday. He had been ordering Lilli to wait on him, hand and foot, even though the house was bustling with servants. Lucretius was trying to lull Lilli into submission with his orders and sharp tones. It was partially working as she retreated to her only private space and yet, still found herself to be subdued. Martha felt sorry for Lady Edith Lilli, deeply. She was Lilli’s closest confidant outside of her younger brother, Newt. She knew the struggles that Lilli faced and wished for something better for her. Little did she know, something better was burning a hole in her apron pocket. She pulled the letter out, shaking it lightly in front of Lilli’s face. “Another letter addressed to you, Lady Lilli.”

Lilli didn’t have to read the envelope to know that it was from Tommy, his letters all looked the same from the outside, and the writing was unmistakable. She thanked Martha as the color returned to her face, and her cheeks became rosy. She waited until Martha left the room to read the letter. 

A part of my heart has belonged to you since then, my Lilli.

The words on the page didn’t feel real at first. She knew that she harbored feelings for Tommy, but she had a hard time believing that he held such high feelings for her. Her heart felt like it was going to burst as she continued reading. 

Under her advice, we have both agreed that it would be beneficial for you to depart from your fiance in a timely manner. With Grace's absence, a barmaid vacancy exists in my Pub. I'll have a room waiting for you when you arrive.

She had spent many nights dreaming of a moment like this, a moment where Thomas Shelby was going to sweep her away from her life in London. She never expected it to really happen; even when she received visions of it. She knew that her visions would always come true, but still, she could not bring herself to believe them. Now, the opportunity to leave her life behind was right in front of her; she couldn’t let it slip through her fingers. She couldn’t let Tommy slip through her fingers. 

A vision came before her eyes of Lucretius coming to the door. As soon as it stopped, she quickly moved back to her desk, tucking the letter from Tommy where she kept all his letters, in a locked drawer at the bottom of her desk. The key she wore as a necklace never left her body. She kept her heart tucked away in this draw too. 

She placed herself down in her chair and smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress just as Lucretius opened her door. “I’ve been calling for you from the Library. It’s just down the hall, didn’t you hear me?”

Lilli shrugged her shoulders lazily. “No, sorry, Dove. I did not hear you calling. If I had, I would have come to the library,” her reply was mostly true. 

He made a ‘tsk’ sound with his tongue and the back of his teeth. “Be honest, for once, Edith. You do not care about me and my needs.”

Lilli rolled her eyes. “I have tended to your every need all day. Please forgive me for taking a moment for myself.”

“You are to be my wife; you are supposed to tend to my every need. I should not have to come into your study to find you. Your study is for when you are home alone. If I am home, you should be in my presence,” he scolded. 

“We have servants and housemaids who can tend to your whims. I came to have a few minutes to myself because I do not have time during the week. My work as an Auror fills my days. I need some time to breathe on Sundays,” she sternly replied.

“You know how I feel about you having a job outside of our home. How are you going to take care of our children? Will their needs be ignored much like mine? You only take yourself into consideration with your decisions!” Lilli flinched at the loudness of his voice. That only seemed to anger him more. “Do not recoil from me! You cannot fear me. I am your fiance, your one shining star! I am lifting your family up in the world, and you need to respect me as the head of your household. How dare you quiver in front of me.”

Lilli had no time to react before his hand connected with the soft tissue of her cheek. He used the back of said hand, causing his engagement ring to clash with her supple flesh. She felt a small dripline of blood forming. Violence was not usual from Lucretius, but it was not often aimed at Lilli. He usually took his anger out on the walls of their shared home or the pillows that covered their bed, but he could not contain himself every so often. Silence fell over the pair. They stood in this silence until Lilli decided she was ready to move again. “I will be in our quarters. Do not bother me until the morning.”

“Edith–”

“No. Enough has been done, Lucretius,” she said. Her tone was flat, and the little bit of love she had left in her heart for him was gone. She left the room, clasping her hand around her key necklace tightly. She was leaving for Birmingham, and she was leaving tonight.

___________________

#tommy shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x imagine #thomas shebly imagine #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby #peaky fucking blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky fookin blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peakyblindersedit #peaky blinders #thomas shelby imagine #fantastic beasts fanfiction #fantastic beats and where to find them #fantastic beasts #fanfiction #hp fanfiction #harry potter drabble #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter

[darklinaforever]

What kills me is that Thomas's declaration to Edith is essentially reminiscent of Rochester's declaration to Jane and Mia Wasikowska herself ultimately played Jane Eyre ! I find the coincidence funny.

#crimson peak #guillermo del toro #thomas sharpe #edith cushing #edith sharpe #thomas x edith #edith x thomas #thomas and edith #edith and thomas #jane eyre #charlotte bronte #jane x rochester #rochester x jane #jane and rochester #rochester and jane #mr rochester #gothic romance

[marzipanandminutiae]

Do you have any favorite crimson peak fics you're open to sharing? I love any possible dynamics, the ot3, Edith/Lucille, Edith/Thomas either or both Sharpes/reader. I really want some fics to read and I feel like you'd have some of the best recs

So many! I've done a few rec posts already, so I'll link those below. (No "X/reader" fics, because I'm not a fan of those- and anyway, I'd want Edith/Reader, if anything. And nobody writes that for some reason. Seriously, am I the only lesbian who's thirsty for Edith? If so, is everyone else blind?)

Most of them are OT3 or Edith/Lucille, but a few are just Sharpecest. Pure Edith/Thomas isn't usually my thing, since it generally comes with a heaping helping of Lucille Hate(TM). That being said, an OT3-verse oneshot about Edith and Thomas Shenanigans could be fun!

Rec Post 1

Rec Post 2

Rec Post 3

And some that don't appear in any posts but which I still like:

If Thou Wilt Chide, Thy Lips Shall Never Open (explicit, Sharpecest, pre-canon)

The Killing Jar (pre-Sharpecest, pre-canon exploration of Lucille's first murder: their father. dips into canon territory a bit at the end)

Trying To Reason With Hurricane Season (pre-canon Sharpecest, explicit)

like the innocent flower and the serpent under (Edith/Lucille, explicit)

Black Moth Nocturne (short study of Lucille's time in the asylum, pre-canon- the author has written a bunch of good CPeak oneshots, but that's just my favorite of them. because Trash Fire Darling)

and of course, if you're interested, I also write CPeak fics myself...

#crimson peak #fic recs #fanfic #there are more I'm forgetting- I'm certain of it #bad at bookmarking things

[allerdalexhall]

((Submission)) Theory(idk if someone said it or it’s a fact but)

Why was Thomas’s ghost white at the final scenes of the movie? Well as we know all other ghosts and spirits have been portrayed as black, whispy, disturbing entities, like Edith’s mother, or they are broken, horrifying creatures made out of the red clay underneath the house. But in the final scenes of the film we see that Thomas ghost is actually white, unlike any we’ve seen so far. So why is this? Well I think it’s because Thomas has no attachment to anything or anyone. The other ghost/spirits all have a reason to haunt over the house and the people living there, Thomas and Lucilles mother; she was brutally killed by Lucile, Thomas’s past wives; also met the same end ergo Lucile and Thomas.

But when Thomas dies , he has no attachment. He told Edith that he did truly love her, he confronted Lucile and he was ready to leave his past behind.

Thomas had no reason to be a revenge seeking ghost. And that’s why he was a white ghost in the ending

Tell me what you think, just a theory (again idk if it has been said but I just thought it was cool)  -End of Submitted post- -Blog Holders Response-

Sorry for the late reply to this submission. Holidays make things so busy. I actually posted a theory similar, no idea if it was one you may have come across or not. I looked for the said post and it was actually a reblog that I commented on {X} The original response I made to a gif of Edith being embraced by her mother’s ghost 7 years ago in that link was as follows:

~ All she wanted was a hug and to love and cherish her little Edith and keep her safe. It takes so much to come back just to warn her and hold her. We don’t know how strong a ghost has to be to be solid enough to be seen and interact with things. It has to take so much will power and emotions to do it. Others just appear faintly in photos. But the strongest of emotions makes them solid and seen. Her love was what was so strong to bring her back to her daughter and warn her. Not just once, but twice! Not even her father pulled that off. We never saw him again. It’s the raw pure emotion that brings her to her daughter. The same with Lucille. Her love and hate and rage all together has her formed in Allerdale Hall. Two woman with two different forms of Love bringing them back from death. All the wives were full of fear and sorrow. Want to for freedom and stained as the clay of which they were surrounded by. Sorrow took over they’re after lives, forming them and giving them shape. Thomas was peace, happiness, and pure love. Each forming a different color to show what it meant. It appears Black is a strong emotional love and want, if not a rage with it. The person dying and having that emotion giving them strength to the point of returning. For Edith’s mother being taken so soon from her daughter and unable to hold and see her before her death. Lucille her rage and love fueling her beyond the grave. Red, sorrow and pain, along with the very color of the clay around them if not stained by it and the blood they shed in death upon their murders. The wives and baby buried in the clay of the mines and Lady Sharpe her own bloody bath, if not tainted with the red clay upon filling. White, a happy, pure love and acceptance if not peace. Some still lost don’t even appear. Just stay as shadows, unseen but in the shadows of a form. Or only in images, if not shadows in that as well. ~

It has been a theory of mine that the wives are Red greatly due to the clay they were buried in. Their ghosts appearing to change with the decay of their bodies hidden away. We don’t see this with Lady Sharpe though (Thomas and Lucille’s Mother). She is red, but only appears with the wounds inflicted upon her death by her daughter’s hands. It’s never said or shown where her body is laid after her death either. But we do know it was discovered by the police through the newspaper article that is shown. That gave me thoughts and theories to a connection to colors and emotions and manners of their deaths.  The wives were not a peace, they as well as Lady Sharpe are most likely full of rage, but the wives not as much. The appear to know they’re bodies are decaying away and what they look like. Hoping perhaps in passing one of the siblings will see them and instill fear or show what they have done. Perhaps also using the form as a warning to Edith of what cruel things Lucille has done. Thomas ever appears close to seeing the ghosts himself.  The way he speaks to Edith of ghosts through out the movie, in the book and the deleted scene where he appears to feel them around him. Even in the book he seems to feel them or glance them faintly.  Some ghosts take on more of their living selves as likely how they see themselves or wish to be seen. Some it is likely they have not the strength, skill, or both to appear and keep a form that is pleasing. I believe I have tweeted at the director in the past, but never got a reply in what the colors of the ghosts mean sadly. Something I would love to hear the story behind.

#crimson peak #thomas sharpe #cp #submission #ghosts #ghost #theory #theories #late approval