#Opera Singers near you

[germangholami]

Hire Opera Singers for Weddings, Parties or Events

No matter the occasion, engage the exceptional vocal talents of German Gholami, an accomplished opera singer available for opera singer for hire near you.. Let his enchanting voice transform your atmosphere, bringing joy and delight to your event. Reserve your spot now and leave your guests amazed.

[bubblegum-snowdrop]

i want to be a cat. jobless. educationless. useless. there to be pretty and soft

Big mood. I envy my cats and their ability to just roll around, be cute and scream for love whenever they want it

I will argue however; kitties are not useless. Their use is to be baby and be loved.

[earlycuntsets]

"DEATH COMES RIPPING" - SPOOKY ISSUE

'THE BLACK PARADE, THE TRIUMPHANT NEW ALBUM BY MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE MAY HAVE A TRAGIC STORYLINE, BUT IT'S NOTHING COMPARED WITH WHAT THE BANDMATES ENDURED TO BRING THE DISC TO LIGHT

PHOTOS BY JON WIEDERHORN PHOTOS BY JUSTIN BORUCKI

STANDING ON A BALCONY nine floors above the teeming streets of New York, Gerard Way overlooks the city in which My Chemical Romance began assembling their ambitious new album, The Black Parade. The newly peroxide- blond frontman takes a deep drag from a cigarette and exhales with a sigh. He knows he shouldn't smoke, but it's his only remaining vice.

"If I hadn't been sober, I think The Black Parade surely would have killed me," says Gerard, who climbed on the wagon in 2004. "We were going insane the whole time, and I had to cling to my sobriety to stay even a little lucid. The album became like this beast that was consuming us."

Following up a release as successful as 2004's Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, which sold 1.4 million copies in the U.S. alone, is never an easy task. And the various scares the band experienced as they worked on the new record-drummer Bob Bryar had a near-fatal staph infection, Gerard seriously injured his foot, and some restless spirits at the studio where they recorded kept them all on edge-did not help matters. And neither

did MCR's decision to make The Black Parade (Reprise) a concept disc. Together, Gerard and his bandmates-Bryar, guitarists Frank lero and Ray Toro, and bassist Mikey Way (Gerard's younger brother)-decided to craft a record about a dying young man who is visited by a cast of strange characters that help him examine his short life.

But diving into the conceptual deep end proved well worth the hassle. The Black Parade is not only MCR's most realized offering; it's also one of the most eclectic, enjoyable rock records of the year. One listen to tracks

like "House of Wolves," "The Sharpest Lives," and "Dead!" makes it clear that My Chemical Romance can still rip a good metallic punk tune. But the bandmates are now equally influenced by epic albums like Pink Floyd's The Wall, David Bowie's The Rise & Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars, and Queen's A Night at the Opera.

"A lot of bands from the scene we came from try to strip down their music to 'keep it real," Gerard notes. "But the real you is what you've always had inside you and what you strive to be. So when we started compiling the material we had written, we were like, You know what? This has to be a huge, theatrical record."

MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE started working on ideas for The Black Parade in the back of the bus while on 2005's Warped Tour, after which they flew to New York and rented a rehearsal space for two months. And that's when things started to get weird.

"I was living in Queens, and I had to commute on the subway every day," Gerard says. "I was suddenly very scared and paranoid. I felt more like an outsider than I ever had, and I had no confidence, which is bad when you're trying to work on a record. And I had no anonymity because there were a lot of teenagers on the train." In reaction to the young fans he encountered on the underground,

Gerard wrote "Teenagers," a T. Rex-style romp with the chorus line, "Teenagers scare the living shit out of me." "The song came directly from commuting when school let out and being so terrified of them," the singer says. "I was like, Wait a minute. These are the same people that listen to our band. Why am I scared? And I realized it was because they're scared, too. Teenagers are made to feel like they can only solve their problems with violence. They lash out at each other in a really volatile way." After several months experiencing the joys of mass transit, MCR had completed only a handful of songs and felt like a change of scenery (and climate) might do them some good. "I couldn't keep working in New York," says Gerard. "We wanted isolation."

id: Gerard leads the way to what will likely be the band's second platinum record

So the group relocated to Paramour Mansion, outside of L.A. Nestled high in the hills, the deluxe estate overlooks the trendy Silver Lake area and boasts spacious rooms, a gorgeous pool, lush gardens, a state-of-the-art recording facility-and a few special guests.

"The place is definitely haunted," Gerard says. "Doors would slam, and the faucets would turn on. You'd get a bath drawn for you of freezing-cold water in your room, and you wouldn't know why." As unnerving as its mischievous spirits could be, the Paramour was also inspiring, and contributed to the haunting vibe of songs like "The End" and "This Is How I Disappear." More important, it led Gerard to come up with the bleak, surreal concept for the record. "I would have these night terrors, where it would feel like someone was choking me, and my heart would stop and I would stop breathing," he says. "I would wake up in the middle of the night and write these notes to myself, and one of them read, 'We are all just a black parade.' So I started thinking about how this band is kind of a black parade, like a funeral-procession rock thing. And I used that idea to piece together this story about the idea that when you die, death comes for you however you want." Gerard molded his concept into a narrative about a character he dubbed the Patient, whose strongest memory from childhood is of his father taking him to the city to see a parade. Two songs into the album, he dies, and the black parade comes for him.

"During the rest of the story, he meets this entity of death and all these characters, like Mama, who represents anyone who's ever lost their son in a war," Gerard explains. "It's almost like these Canterbury Tales, where he goes along on this journey, and at the end he decides whether he wants to live or die." With the concept in place, My Chem made the songs as sweeping and theatrical as Gerard's lyrics. They accomplished this, in part, by combing through their own eclectic record collections and pulling choice elements that would set them even further apart from other melodic punk bands.

The first two minutes of "Welcome to the Black Parade" stemmed from Gerard's love for Broadway musicals, the horns in "Dead!" came from Mikey's interest in Blur and Britpop, and the jaunty feel of "Mama" was informed by Tom Waits and Nick Cave. But the most poignant moment on the record, "Cancer," was (unlike its morbid moniker) something of a pleasant surprise. "I was very upset about something in my personal life, and that's when that song came out," Gerard says. "It was really spontaneous, and it was recorded pretty much live with Rob [Cavallo, the record's producer] on the piano and me in the vocal booth. Then we added layers of drums, which gave it a certain urgency. It's the song I'm most proud of because it was the most pure emotion we've ever captured, and it gets such an immediate response. You can't shake what the song is about."

As the CD approached completion, some members of the band began to show signs of nervous exhaustion. The group was scheduled to fly to England to play the Reading Festival, and as the date grew near, Toro, who has a fear of flying, got noticeably agitated. Then, after the band tracked "Welcome to the Black Parade," which was originally called "The Five of Us Are Dying," the guitarist lost it.

"I thought I had this premonition," Toro explains. "I was flipping through the TV channels, and on the news. there would be something about a plane crash, and every time I woke up in the morning, the clock would say 9:11. I was playing Tomb Raider the night before the flight, and on the level I ended up at, there was this whole flashback to a plane crash. So right before the flight I was like, 'That's it. I'm not flying."

Despite his misgivings, Toro boarded the plane, and when My Chemical Romance returned to L.A. (all of them still very much alive, thank you very much), The Black Parade was completed without further incident. Listening back to the record, the band members were in awe of what they had achieved and eager to share it with their fans. "There was a real confidence that came to us," Gerard explains. "Having survived it, we felt like we were changed forever. I feel different as a performer now, and I think we really finally discovered who we were as a band." But just because MCR were done with the record didn't mean that it was done with them. About a month later, the band was shooting a video for "Famous Last Words" with director Samuel Bayer (Garbage, Smashing Pumpkins) on a set featuring walls of flame, when-seized by the moment-lero grabbed Gerard's throat from behind and wrestled him to the ground. The singer rolled one way; his foot went the other. "It bent completely backwards, and I heard a crack and felt this agonizing pain," Gerard recalls. "I tore all the ligaments in my foot, but I got up and continued to perform." "I didn't know what I was doing," says lero, shaking his head. "I wasn't trying to hurt him. I felt awful. I still do." Gerard's injury was serious, and he still walks with a cane, but it paled in comparison to what happened to Bryar. At the end of the shoot, the pyro was so intense, the drummer could feel his leg burning, but he stuck it out for the rest of the song. By then, he had a nasty third-degree burn. And the misfortune didn't stop there. Bryar didn't take his antibiotics regularly, and he failed to keep the wound clean. By the time the band got back from a brief tour of Japan, the burn was severely infected. Then Bryar's face swelled up and, after doing the MTV Video Music Awards preshow telecast and a special club show, stumbled into a hospital emergency room in intense pain. "I thought I'd be there for 10 minutes, but as soon as they saw me, they got all serious and gave me an IV and said they had to do a CAT scan," recalls Bryar."They did all these blood tests and kept me there for 14 hours." Doctors discovered that Bryar's leg infection had spread to his blood and caused an abscess in his face that was creeping dangerously close to his brain. If it had been left untreated for another two days, he could have died. "The whole thing was such a nightmare," Bryar says. "This doctor stuck my cheek with a needle about six inches long and the width of an IV tube. Then he went in and out of the inside of my mouth with the needle about 10 times. Fortunately, the treatment worked, and Bryar left the hospital three days later. With tragedy averted, My Chem are now focusing on touring for The Black Parade. They'll be in Europe for most of November, and when they get back at the end of year, they'll start rehearsing for a U.S. arena tour that starts in February. "We want to put on a full show with props and staging like The Wall," Gerard says. And MCR plan to keep the Patient alive long after they're done touring for the CD. "I would love to see the story turned into a play or a musical, and it could easily be a movie," enthuses Gerard. "Making this record, we cut ourselves open every day, pulled out every organ, and lay them on a table so it would be something we're completely happy with. We want The Black Parade to exist for a long time." "The whole hole thing nightmare. This doctor stuck my cheek with a needle about six inches long and the width of an IV tube." -BOB BRYAR

"I felt more like an outsider than I ever had, and I had no confidence, which is bad when you're trying work on a record."

-GERARD WAY

12/2006 revolver - mcrhollywood on flickr

[yourmomsawh0r3]

the garden

anthony bridgerton x female reader

The ballroom glittered with candlelight and the murmur of polite conversation filled the air. Y/N moved through the crowd with grace, a vision in her deep purple gown. Tonight's ball was one of the grandest of the season, hosted by the Bridgertons themselves, and every eligible lady and gentleman of the ton was in attendance. The eldest Bridgerton, Anthony, had a reputation that preceded him a rake through and through, with a notorious string of mistresses, the latest being the opera singer, Sienna Rosso.

Anthony Bridgerton stood near the entrance, greeting guests with practiced charm. As he glanced across the room, his eyes landed on Y/N. She walked in with an air of confidence, her gown a striking shade of deep purple that accentuated her every feature. His heart skipped a beat, an unusual reaction for a man known for his composure.

He found himself wondering what she might smell like tonight. Lilacs, perhaps, he mused. It seemed to suit her, a delicate yet captivating fragrance. As she moved through the crowd, her eyes caught his, and he felt a strange pull, as if the room had suddenly become smaller and she was the only one in it.

Y/N found herself in the company of her friends, who were eagerly discussing the night's prospects. Despite the glittering environment and charming faces, Y/N’s thoughts were clouded. She had seen Anthony Bridgerton earlier in the evening, his eyes lingering a bit too long on several ladies. Her curiosity had gotten the better of her a few nights ago, and she had followed him, only to see him disappearing into a house that was clearly not his own. The scandalous whispers about Sienna Rosso had turned out to be true, and it only solidified Y/N's opinion of him as a rake.

As if summoned by her thoughts, Anthony Bridgerton appeared at her side, bowing with impeccable manners. "Miss Y/N," he greeted, his eyes warm but guarded.

"Lord Bridgerton," she replied coolly, offering him the barest of curtsies.

"May I have the pleasure of this dance?" he asked, his tone smooth.

She hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding. "Of course."

As they moved to the dance floor and began to waltz, Anthony’s grip was firm but not overbearing. "I believe we have not had the pleasure of a conversation before tonight, Miss Y/N."

"That is correct," she said, her eyes not meeting his. "Though one hears enough in the drawing rooms of the ton."

Anthony raised an eyebrow, clearly catching her meaning. "One must not believe everything one hears," he said lightly, though his eyes sharpened.

"Indeed," Y/N replied, not bothering to mask her sarcasm.

The dance passed with strained civility, and when it ended, they parted with polite nods. But throughout the evening, Y/N found her gaze drifting towards Anthony, and more often than not, he was watching her too. She told herself it was merely curiosity.

The weeks that followed were filled with similar encounters. They argued over trivial matters at every gathering, each encounter leaving Y/N more convinced of Anthony’s rakish nature and Anthony more intrigued by the spirited woman who seemed immune to his charms.

One evening, Y/N was standing alone on the terrace, enjoying a moment of solitude, when she heard footsteps. She turned to see Anthony approaching. "Miss Y/N," he said, his voice softer than usual.

"Lord Bridgerton," she acknowledged, her tone guarded.

"Why do you despise me so?" he asked bluntly, stepping closer.

Y/N’s eyes flashed. "You think very highly of yourself if you believe I spend my time despising you, my lord."

Anthony’s mouth twitched. "I think you are avoiding the question."

Y/N took a deep breath. "I saw you. With Sienna Rosso. Late at night."

Anthony’s expression hardened. "You were following me?"

"Purely by chance," she lied. "And what I saw only confirmed what I had heard."

"Perhaps you did not see the entire story," he said, his voice tight. "Sienna and I are no longer... involved."

"Oh, how convenient," she said, turning away.

Anthony stepped in front of her, forcing her to look at him. "Believe what you will, Miss Y/N. But I assure you, I am not the man you think I am."

She wanted to argue, but the intensity in his eyes made her pause. Before she could find her words, she turned and fled into the garden, needing space to clear her tumultuous thoughts.

The night air was cool and the garden was quiet, a stark contrast to the noisy ballroom. She wandered deeper into the maze of hedges and flowers, her anger and confusion bubbling to the surface. When she heard footsteps behind her, she spun around, ready to berate whoever had followed her.

Anthony stood there, breathing heavily as if he had run. "Y/N," he said, his voice raw. "Please, listen to me."

She shook her head, tears of frustration prickling her eyes. "Why do you care what I think?"

"Because I care about you," he said, stepping closer. "More than I can explain."

His words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of them moved. Then, driven by a force neither of them could control, Anthony closed the distance between them and kissed her.

It was not a gentle kiss. It was fueled by weeks of frustration, misunderstandings, and an undeniable attraction. Y/N’s hands found their way to his shoulders, and she kissed him back with equal fervor.

The world seemed to fall away as they lost themselves in each other. Anthony’s hands were in her hair, pulling her closer, and Y/N felt a fire ignite within her. They stumbled backwards until Y/N’s back hit a tree, and Anthony’s lips moved to her neck, trailing kisses that made her shiver.

Their breathing was heavy, and for a moment, they simply held each other, the intensity of their emotions leaving them both stunned. Anthony pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against hers. "Y/N," he whispered, his voice rough. "I want you to know, I am serious about you. I want more than just this."

Y/N’s heart raced as she looked into his eyes, seeing sincerity and vulnerability that she had never expected. "I... I believe you," she whispered back, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw.

He kissed her again, softer this time, and she felt herself melt into him. They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, wrapped in each other’s arms under the starlit sky, knowing that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together.

The garden became their refuge, a place where arguments turned to understanding, and dislike blossomed into a love neither had anticipated. And when they returned to the ballroom, hand in hand, it was clear to everyone that Anthony Bridgerton had finally met his match.

As they made their way through the crowd, Anthony pulled Y/N close and whispered in her ear, "We need to talk to my mother."

Her eyes widened, but she nodded. They found Violet Bridgerton near the refreshment table, her eyes lighting up as she saw them together.

"Mother," Anthony began, his voice steady. "I have an announcement to make."

Violet turned, her eyes widening in surprise as she took in the sight of her son and Y/N together. "Anthony, what is it?"

Anthony squeezed Y/N’s hand and looked at his mother with a proud smile. "Miss Y/N has agreed to become my wife. We are engaged."

For a moment, there was silence as the words sank in. Then Violet’s face broke into a delighted smile, and she embraced them both. "Oh, Anthony! Y/N! This is wonderful news! I am so thrilled for you both."

The room erupted in applause as word of their engagement spread. Friends and family came forward to offer their congratulations, and Y/N felt overwhelmed by the warmth and acceptance she received from the Bridgerton family.

As the night wore on, Anthony and Y/N found themselves alone again, standing at the edge of the ballroom. He looked at her with a mixture of love and amazement. "I never thought I would find someone like you, Y/N. You have changed my life in ways I cannot even begin to describe."

She smiled, her heart full. "And you have changed mine, Anthony. I cannot wait to start our life together."

After the party, they went to Bridgerton House to formally announce their engagement to the rest of the family. The Bridgertons welcomed Y/N with open arms, and the house was filled with laughter and joy as they celebrated the upcoming union.

Violet took Y/N aside at one point, her eyes shining with happiness. "You are going to make a wonderful addition to this family, Y/N. I can see how much you and Anthony love each other, and I am so happy for you both."

Y/N felt tears of gratitude prick her eyes as she hugged Violet. "Thank you, Lady Bridgerton. Your support means the world to me."

As the night drew to a close, Anthony and Y/N found a quiet moment together, looking out over the grounds of Bridgerton House. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. "This is just the beginning, Y/N. We have a lifetime of adventures ahead of us."

She leaned into him, feeling a profound sense of peace and contentment. "I wouldn’t want to share it with anyone else, Anthony."

With the moonlight casting a gentle glow over them, they stood together, knowing that they had found something truly special. Their journey had been unexpected and filled with challenges, but it had led them to a love

[n1ght0f-nyx]

hiiiiii i'm a big phantom of the opera fan. Could i please please please request a fic where the reader works in the opera house and she has a panic attack but the phantom sees her and sings to calm her down <33333

Song in the Dark

erik destler (the phantom) x gn reader!

The reader, working in the opera house, has a panic attack and hides in a dark corner. The Phantom finds her, sees her distress, and sings a calming song.

warnings- not a realistic panic attack, anxiety

word count: 889 words

divder by kodaswrld

The grandiose halls of the Paris Opera House echoed with the sound of rehearsals. Dancers glided across the stage, singers belted high notes, and behind the scenes, the workers were bustling—adjusting props, fixing costumes, and preparing for the upcoming performance. You, one of the backstage hands, found yourself moving at a rapid pace, trying to keep up with the demands of the day.

But something was different today. There was a tension in your chest that hadn’t been there before. The pressure of work, the fast pace, the noise—it all began to blur together, and suddenly, your world felt as if it was spinning out of control.

You stumbled into a shadowy corner near the labyrinthine hallways beneath the opera house, clutching your chest. Your breaths became shallow, your heart raced, and your mind was swirling with thoughts you couldn’t quiet. You had read about panic attacks before, but nothing could have prepared you for the overwhelming feeling of dread. Your hands trembled as you slid to the ground, tears welling in your eyes.

Suddenly, amidst the darkness and chaos in your mind, a voice emerged from the shadows. Soft, soothing, and hauntingly beautiful, it called out to you.

"Do not be afraid, little one. You are safe here."

The voice wrapped around you like a gentle embrace. Though your heart still raced, you couldn’t help but focus on the sound. A figure stepped into the dim light, cloaked in shadows, yet unmistakable—the Phantom. His white mask gleamed against the darkened walls, and his presence, though intimidating, was oddly comforting in that moment.

He crouched beside you, his voice low and melodic. "You must breathe. Listen to me."

You tried to take a deep breath, but the tightness in your chest remained. Your vision blurred with tears, and you found yourself sinking further into the panic. Sensing your struggle, the Phantom leaned closer, and without a word, he began to sing.

His voice, rich and deep, flowed through the narrow space. The melody was unfamiliar, but it was calm and gentle, like a lullaby meant to soothe a frightened child. The notes filled the air, wrapping around you, coaxing you to focus on the sound rather than the chaos inside your mind.

“Close your eyes,” he whispered between verses.

You obeyed, closing your eyes and listening to his song. The tension in your chest slowly began to ease, as if the weight of your panic was being lifted by the very sound of his voice. You could hear every note, every gentle rise and fall in the melody, and it felt like the world around you had stopped spinning.

The Phantom continued to sing, his voice a balm to your frayed nerves. He wasn’t just singing to calm you down—he was singing for you, as if each note was crafted with you in mind. His presence, once feared by so many in the opera house, felt like a lifeline in your moment of vulnerability.

Gradually, your breathing steadied. The tightness in your chest loosened, and the tears that had spilled over your cheeks began to dry. The panic that had gripped you so fiercely was now fading, replaced by a sense of calm, and the comfort of knowing that someone had been there for you when you needed it most.

When you finally opened your eyes, the Phantom had stopped singing. He was still close, his eyes fixed on you, though half his face remained hidden by his iconic mask. You swallowed hard, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over you, though you weren’t sure what to say.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

The Phantom’s lips twitched into a faint smile, though there was something unreadable in his gaze. “There is no need to thank me. The music has always had the power to heal... to calm the soul.”

He rose to his feet with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly and extended a hand to you. Hesitant at first, you took it, allowing him to help you to your feet. Even after the panic had subsided, there was something grounding about his touch.

"You should rest," he said, his voice softer now, almost tender. "The opera will still be here when you are ready."

You nodded, still feeling the aftershocks of your anxiety, but the weight had lifted. The Phantom gave you a final, enigmatic glance before turning away, his figure melting back into the shadows from which he had emerged.

As you watched him disappear into the darkness, you couldn’t help but feel that something had changed within you. Perhaps it was the Phantom’s song, or perhaps it was the realization that, even in the deepest corners of the opera house, even in the midst of fear, you were not alone.

And somewhere, deep in the bowels of the opera house, the Phantom sang on.

[wonder-mei]

The star has fallen (Honkai : Star Rail’s Gepard Landau)

@Chokore_4 on Twitter/X

Reminder : I do not write accurately to the lore of the world I am writing. I write whenever there’s an idea

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The moment Gepard was given a task to guard the Belobog Opera House he was excited to be this near to his crush of years. It was when he was still a trainer in the Silvermane Guards,he went to visit Serval. The moment he stepped inside Neverwinter Workshop, he was greeted by a gentle singing voice; if he could eat the voice he would taste carefully combined flavors of all the sweets he favored. They are all combined into one, the most anticipating sweet he wanted to have. 

But he can’t.

That is what he thinks. 

She was Serval’s friend and still is. She was from somewhere far away from Belobog,came here to achieve her dream to be an Opera singer. Serval found her through the talking of her mutual musician friends. From that, they both become friends. 

Gepard now stands cold in the chilling night with only the moon accompanying him in the dark guiding the entrance of the building from unwelcome guests. His heart screams telling him to go inside and watch her perform. But he has a duty to do. As a captain he needs to obey the orders. 

Gepard’s ears focus too hard listening to the faint opera singers sing inside making him so unfocused on his task but luckily the night went well. The guests departed from the building after the opera ended. His eyes wanders into the crowd to see if she is there. She is not.

With disappointment he sighs loudly. His task was finished so he went to the garden to smell the famous jasmines that have a strong fragrance at night. He takes a few deep breaths inhaling and exhaling the flower scent that soothes his disappointment a little. He walks around viewing the well-structured garden. Gepard stops walking exhaling. He closes his eyes and inhales again, smelling the desolate cold and fragrance night. 

“Evening,Captain Landau” 

The sudden voice made him jump. Gepard turns around raising her gaze. There she was wearing the most beautiful dress he had ever seen. Or is it beautiful because she is wearing it? She stands on a high porch eyeing down him with a smile

“M-miss!--” without thinking Gepard salutes. He quickly puts down his hand when he realizes. The blond captain is madly in the shade of red now

“Salute to you too,Captain Landau” 

“Gepard…”

“What?”

“Please just call me Gepard,miss”

“If i have to call you by your name. Call me by my name too”

Gepard’s hitches at her words. He has been calling her by her last name since they met. It’s too strange to call her name…too embarrassing…too intimate in his defense. 

“I–uhh–” He stuttered his words. Shaking out of nervousness and red from embarrassment. The woman of his dreams is closer than ever. From looking at her far away through TV’s screen,phones and newspapers. She is now in front of him. 

He did have a lot of chances to be near for over the years of her being close friends with his sister. But he will always runs away with stupid excuses ‘The Colonel called me!’ or ‘I have trainers to train!’ and many more excuses. She is so close to him, his mind is blank. Cannot process to either run away or just went invisible.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, tilting her head. ‘She will be the death of me’

Gepard snaps from his deep thoughts “Oh, just wandering around… It is very beautiful here”

She looks around and nods “I’ve been here for quite a few times but never got the chance to walk around”. Her eyes from looking around the garden to him. 

She is staring for too long in his liking.

“Oh ohh!” Gepard asked for his hand which she gave her right hand. His other arm wraps around her waist then lifts her from the high porch to the ground. Gepard carefully places her on her feet. He can smell her perfume. He thanks the night with all of his heart or she can see how red he is right now. 

“Thank you,Captain Landau”, she thank him taking a step back 

“Don’t call me that…” he mumbles looking away. Too shy to look at her

She chuckles “Okay,Gepard. My apologies. So, the flowers does smell refreshing at night” she turns facing the bushes 

“Yeah they do…” 

They both looks at the flowers for awhile and then-

“Flowers blooms and withers,

But she blooms for eternity…”

Gepard’s mouth gapes open widely. That poem. He wrote that. How does she know that?!

“What?!” his heartbeats faster looking at her with wide eyes

She just laughs at his reaction “Serval told me your poetry. They are very romantic,Gepard. You are a very romantic man. She is very lucky to have you”

“I don’t have a girlfriend..or anything like that”

“I know. I’m just teasing you” 

He slaps his face and hides his red face but she holds his hand lowering it. She stares at him with a smile “Don’t hide your face. You are cute…i always love to see your face” 

Gepard gasps at her confession “You do?”

“Yes. The Captain of Silvermane Guards, the tough and disciplined captain is actually a shy and easily flustered man. Which made me find it cute” 

“Don’t tease me please…”

She intertwines their fingers holding tightly onto him “I've always wanted to talk to you,Gepard. I thought you hated me or you think i’m ugly. I was hurt at first but then Serval showed me your poems. They are all so sweet and so heartfelt” she tightens more “I thought they were all for your partner but no. I have noticed you have been always watching me from afar” 

“Really?”

“I like you too,Gepard Landau”

Those words send him into space. So unreal like in a dream he always dreamed of every night but now this is reality. Their feelings are mutual.

“Say it. Say the words you have been dying to say”

“From the moment i see her,

The glimpse of my lifespan flash in my eyes,

And you were there in every moment,

My love and soul”

He picked the first ever poem he wrote about her. The day he knows love. “I love you too”

I do not need a compass, As my heart knows where she is, As for her, She needs guidance, And i willingly to do so, Just like she guided herself into my heart. ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

I listen to a song that matches on the story idea on loop just to feel that vibe from the beginning until the end. I listen to I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys for 2 hours or so.

Like and follow me. And my requests are always open as long you give me an idea for it. Thanks for reading!

[n3ptoonz]

Hii, I hope you are feeling very well. I've been looking at your posts and I love your blog ^^

Can I request random HCs for kuai liang? maybe some nsfw too? I adore that boy 😔

tysm ;3! and ofc 😌

my random hcs about kuai liang!scorpion

nsfw under the cut; includes reader

SFW hcs

secretly heavily invested into soap operas. don't ask me how ik that (tomas put him on) especially foreign ones

tea lover. he cannot survive 24 hours without at least 3 cups a day (he swears it fuels his fire since he ONLY drinks it hot as fuck)

the best singer out of the trio, it still shocks tomas and bi han lowkey can't stand that he's so good

ngl i could see him wanting an older son younger daughter combo

doesn't get scared easily. matter of fact, rarely ever gets scared. you'd have to be on the brink of death to really pull that out of him

prefers to only ever have his hair down at home. otherwise his buns are always perfect when he leaves the house. hair down = relaxed and hair up = he is not playing around

i could envision him being similar to bi han in a sense that bc of his duties and the importance of them as he got older, he rarely laughs or is ever playful. even with tomas. although with you he allows himself to be a little less serious

NSFW/Suggestive hcs

proud giver. he thoroughly enjoys giving in any capacity to his partner (he a munch) like sometimes it would be concerning how much he don't gaf about receiving. as long as you're smiling while outta breath and shaking, he's good (he's an EATERRRRRR)

i've said this before but i think he'd have nicely sized dick. not too big, but def not small either. manz got mad girth (i am screaming ace virgin)(cue nerd voice) that fills you up like your body was made for him

being a good singer = very vocal in bed. groans, moans, breathless whines, profanities, whispers, YOU NAME IT

i can see him as a sensual lovemaker, but also the switch in his mind can easily take it there. especially if you like his aggressive side? by the elder gods...he will literally stare into your eyes and tell you to take it because he knows you can while holding your jaw in place so you can't look away SHEESH.

doesn't believe in jerking off. he believes he should either go to you or just wait it out. if he's single, he just focuses more on kombat than anything else (no wonder he's super fucking jacked NGH~)

full nelson enthusiast. that's all i have to say!!!

side note: the moment he feels your fingers in his hair, he becomes damn near a servant to you. it's like an immediate submission activator in his brain😼

[baeshijima]

there’s an undeniable serenity which follows your voice. how it traverses within the room’s dome-like structure, reverberating through the surrounding space before ultimately touching the hearts and souls of those who hear your solo piece. it captivates and impassions, an underlying force woven beneath layers of harmonies forged under years of dedication holding one’s attention as they await in baited breath for the forthcoming emotions which swirl and soar at the mercy of your voice.

having never missed one of your performances to date, neuvillette believes he would know this best.

in his life, he has found there are many difficulties which arise when overseeing trials of various levels of severity — some being a life-defining case whereas others may delve into a more… menial aspect of things.

(“to bring some entertainment for once!” …is what he would usually hear in response to his unvoiced thoughts before having to reprimand a certain archon for levity in the court.)

but in spite of the blurred lines between professionalism and public entertainment, neuvillette finds himself at ease once he steps into the grand hall, finding his seat as stated on his ticket, waiting patiently as the chatters die down the moment the lights dim and the curtains draw, watching in content as vocals and instrumentals resound until the lights dim once more to signify the end of the opera.

amidst his day-to-day life, he has come to anticipate the dates which mark your performances.

ever since he first started attending, he has discovered that when sitting amongst the crowd enjoying your voice and performance, he is neither the iduex nor the chief justice of fontaine; he is simply neuvillette — a man who finds peace and respite in your presence, regardless of how near or far you may be from him.

he claps just as everyone else does, watching as you stoop into a bow on centre stage once the final note dissipates into the air where rounds of applause take over. there’s an ever-present smile stretching your lips, the corners of your eyes crinkling as you wave to the crowd surrounding him.

neuvillette recognises this expression as one you’d wear after a performance you deem satisfactory and finds his heart fluttering at the glow in your expression. (your smile doesn’t reach your eyes if you think it is anything less, despite his internal thoughts believing otherwise.)

he remains seated as the orchestra begins to arise and gather their instruments, as the conductor steps down from their podium, as the singers line up and shuffle off stage, as you turn and take your leave in close pursuit.

he glances at the bouquet settled atop his lap. oddly enough, the colours he chose coordinate with your attire, and he cannot help but to think this is some twist of fate playing with his convictions.

no matter, he thinks to himself as he rises from his seat, the bouquet cradled within his hold. with brisk steps, he makes his way past the crowd. it’s easier once people step away the moment they identify him and opt to gawk at his presence, allowing an easy passage for a quick escape.

it is not much later when he finds himself walking down a familiar hallway, the bright lights illuminating the name plaques hanging on the dressing room doors. his feet naturally come to a stop in front of a dressing room six doors down, the words [name] [last name] neatly engraved into the stainless steel nailed to the door.

his eyes trace over your name a few times, the flowers in his hand seemingly heavier than they were mere moments prior.

perhaps this time…

neuvillette attempts to push back the lump lodged within his throat. there’s a slight trepidation which hangs overhead as he gently raises a fist to your dressing room door, one which is all-too familiar in the way he hesitates and rethinks his actions over and over when in regards to you.

he stops before his knuckles touch the door. before he knows it he falls back into his usual routine: place the bouquet in front of your dressing room door, gently knock three times, turn and walk down the hall, disappearing before you can see him loitering around and make the connection of him being the anonymous bouquet gifter after each performance.

rounding a corner, neuvillette comes to a halt. with a glance over his shoulder he watches you peek your head out the door, looking around the hall in search of who knocked. when you take note of the bouquet he left, he fights back a smile of his own when you beam and thumb at the petals as he wills himself to turn and resume his exit.

perhaps after your next performance he will finally gather the resolve to speak to you.

if you enjoyed this, then reblogs with/or comments are greatly appreciated !! <33

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[yona049]

𝕻𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖔𝖒 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕺𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖆 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

Part 3

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°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

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Disclaimer!

This is a story following the events after the Phantom of the Opera (2004) and only follows the movie and not any other adaptations!

This has evolved into its own story, if its not something you're interested in, feel free to skip this one and check out some other fics on my page! °v°

°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○

Christine Daaé, first a dancer, then Opera singer, beautiful slender shoulders and Radiant eyes to stun even the toughest man.

No wonder the Opera ghost fell for her, it's easy to forget they knew each other for years before Christine's debut. He was her teacher, and she was his muse.

"Isn't she beautiful!" Meg says excitedly, watching Christine in her white dress on stage.

Meg Giry, daughter of Madam Giry and best friend to Christine. She was so supportive and a good friend to Y/n aswell.

Y/n looked back at the stage with a bright smile feeling Christine's voice vibrate the floorboards beneath her feet.

Just as the chorus started Y/n could hear arguing from back stage. A very loud conversation beneath Christine's voice. No one seemed to mind since they were all bewildered by the Opera singer, except Y/n.

"Aloïs?" she questioned holding her puffy tutu up and past all the onlookers until she was back stage.

She could hear her Lover Aloïs arguing with someone, quite aggressively, any louder and they'd match Christine's Volume.

Finally she spotted him at the back of back stage near the curtain ropes. The man he was talking to was hidden behind the curtains, so hidden that Y/n entirely missed him.

"You can't take Christine! Then Carlotta will certainly take her place again!" Aloïs Yelled.

"She will be returned soon. I've been planning this for years, she won't be harmed." the voice said defensively.

"You set small accidents for Carlotta now you want to resort to kidnapping! End it! Or I will!" Aloïs suddenly grabs the man's face and yanks a white mask off it.

Y/n gasps loudly causing Aloïs to turn suddenly.

"Darling? You should be near the stage! It's almost time for your dance number!" he quickly hides the mask behind his back.

"I heard arguing?"

Y/n explains looking at what Aloïs hid behind his back. She smirks and moves against Aloïs placing a small kiss on his lips. This caught Aloïs off guard.

With swift turns in her ballet shoes, she spins around Aloïs and grabs the mask from his hands.

"What's this?" she questions holding it up to look at it.

"Hey! Y/n! Give that back!" Aloïs reaches to take the mask again but Y/n, still on her toes, En Pointe, spins away and holds the mask to her face.

"Why? I'm assuming it's just a prop?" she tilts her head sightly with the wide mask not fitting her face at all.

"Y/n!" Aloïs says with an angry tone.

With a giggle she stops teasing and hands Aloïs back the mask. Aloïs gives a sigh of relief and looks back at Y/n before placing a delicate kiss on her head.

"Thank you, darling. And yes, this is a very important prop."

Y/n smiles back at Aloïs's before her ears perk.

"Oh no!"

Putting her feet back flat on the ground, she shrinks to her natural height that's much shorter than Aloïs.

She blows a kiss to Aloïs before running off to the stage, right on cue to her dance number.

Aloïs turns back to a deep chuckle behind the curtains. Phantom had been watching Y/n's playful spectacle.

"Quite the witted beauty. Perhaps I'll take her instead?"

Aloïs growls and shoves the mask against Phantoms chest.

"Take whoever you want! Just leave Y/n out of it!"

"Y/n?" The Phantom taunted with a venomous rumbling voice. He places the mask back onto his face and swings his cape dramatically.

"I shall remember her." His last words before disappearing into the inter mechanisms of the Opera house.

○○○○○○○○○○○○○○

Months passed since Y/n and Erik were hired in the Tavern. Things were going well. Their room had been upgraded to one with a proper washroom and two beds.

Even tho two beds still in the same room, Y/n made a point of it to put up a curtain between her and Erik's bed for a little privacy.

After the first few days of working Erik noticed the knot in Y/n's dress was starting to ruin the dress completely.

He saved up and bought her a band new dress the next day. One with frills and extra light material to emphasize the dance moves.

Slowly they started building a living! First properly cleaning the room best they could, adding curtains and a carpet. Then clothes and accessories to match their taste.

Erik's first time in a market was a wonder to behold, like a child scattered in all directions. Spices from India, silk from Asia. All exported goods Erik never really considered beyond the walls of the Opera house.

Y/n had to hold his hand to keep him from wandering off. This ended up turning into a tugging to every stall that caught Erik's eye.

At nights when it was time to work, Y/n took the time to properly warm up then dance for hours on end.

Erik usually leaned against the wall or sat at the edge of the bar. Watching every step and every beautiful lock of hair glide through the air as Y/n danced.

Tho his face was dark and intense, he always felt the magic of the theater when watching Y/n dance. A twinge of nostalgia.

Unfortunately there were times when he had to twist a mans arm or almost break his hand for even almost touching Y/n.

Y/n always lost track of time. Erik took this oppertunity to pull her to a corner and probably hydrate and give her a needed break.

After the day was said and done they'd go up to their room for the night, still buzzing from the energetic bar.

"Ha! Come now my dear, if I danced I'd surely look like waddling pigeon!" Erik laughed while delicately massaging Y/n's legs.

Back in the room after a long night of dancing for drunken men. A small candle was flickering against the wooden walls of the room.

Y/n had finally taken Erik up on his nonsense that she 'wasn't doing the proper cool down stretches', and told him to show her how he thinks it's done.

"C'mon! I'm sure you can do a perfect walts! You should've learned something from never leaving the Opera house!"

She watched Erik at the foot of her bed struggling with the basic massaging methods. She was finishing her dinner that Boris had brought up for them.

"Well of course! Walts and many other partner dances. But I wouldn't dare dance alone!" Erik mumbles.

"Mmh! Ow!" Y/n wines yanking her leg back.

"That's enough of your 'help'. " she lightly smacks Erik's hand with the back of her spoon.

She is quick to get back on her feet before pulling Erik to his.

"Now show me this waltz!" she excitedly puts her hands on either of his shoulders with a little bounce.

"Alright, alright! Let's start with this." He mentioned with a little chuckle before pushing Y/n down by her shoulders to stop her bouncing.

He takes one of Y/n's hands off his shoulder and holds it to the side. His hand traces down her side until it's firmly placed on her hip.

"Follow my feet, when I step forward, you step back." he looks down at their feet and starts humming a small tune.

Ta, ta tum! He steps forward and Y/n is quick to match, then another step forward and Y/n steps back.

"Good. Now there's a very important thing to remember about the Waltz." He smiles looking at Y/n's intense focus on his feet movements.

"What's that?" she questions.

Erik smirks and uses his finger to delicately lift Y/n's chin until she looks at him.

"Read the words that come from your partners eyes."

Y/n feels the blood rush to her cheeks and she nods still following Erik's steps and his hummed tune.

"Very Good." he complimented, his voice barely above a whisper now.

Their dance slow to a few small steps and Erik watches Y/n's gaze, hypnotized by his voice and the flickering of a candle in his eyes.

Erik felt his chest start beating faster. Their bodies close enough to feel Y/n's steady breathing. A delicate hand on her hip controlling her movements and keeping her tightly in his grasp.

Y/n's eyes never waver from Erik's gaze. He moves down slowly feeling an immense need to kiss her delicate lips. Their lips graze only for a moment, the want for the sweet taste of each other rushing through both their bodies before :

Knock Knock. "Y/n! A letter for ya!"

A sudden knocking pull both of them from their thoughts and Y/n is first to turn into a red tomato.

"Coming!" she yells, feeling the cold air away from Erik's embrace.

Finally opening the door she looks at Boris still holding his cigar firmly in his mouth with an abnormally white envelope in his hands.

Y/n thanks Boris and whispers a small goodnight before closing the door.

She turns back to Erik with her eyes plastered on the wax seal on the letter. Very formal one compared to any common folks letter.

She traces her fingertips over the oddly familiar crest on the seal.

With a satisfying snap she breaks the wax quickly unfolds the letter.

"What is it?" Erik questions after recovering.

Y/n reads intently which quickly turns to worry. She brings her thumb to her mouth and starts chewing on the nail.

"Floquet..." she talks with a mumble because of the nail she chewed on.

Erik delicately takes her hand from her mouth and holds it to his chest like you would a book.

Y/n looks at him then takes a deep breath.

"Aloïs Floquet. That was his family's name. I recognized the crest from back in the Opera, when he received multiple letters from his mother and father." she explains.

"The letter says they'll be coming here within the next few days. But it doesn't explain why?the letter was sent a week ago! They could arrive tomorrow!"

Y/n's hand clenches out of reflex. Erik delicately traces circles on the back of her hand before questioning.

"Why would they come here?"

"I don't know! Aloïs must've told his family about me! And they heard of me dancing here! Now someone from the family is coming here to yell? Ask me where he is? Arrest me?!"

Y/n starts breathing quicker but Erik swiftly pulls her into a hug.

"Calm your breathing, my dear. It's surely nothing of the sort, and if it is? You did nothing illegal. They will have me to deal with."

He places a kiss on the top of Y/n's head trying to calm her spinning thoughts.

Y/n nods slowly in agreement still feeling fear in her soul. She squeezed Erik tightly and sniffed her tears back.

"Thank you Erik."

She whispered so quietly Erik almost missed it.

Not long after Y/n fell asleep in hed bed. Another mental blow adding to stress that never quite left her after the Opera house burnt down.

Erik peaked through the curtain at Y/n peacefully sleeping on the bed before closing the curtain again.

He walks to the closet then kneels down to the very bottom of the wooden cupboard.

He pushes the false bottom out to reveal a small dagger he'd retrieved from the Opera house. Tho he'd like to use his Rapier sword, being the excellent swordsman he is, it would be far to obvious. Keeping a large sword visible would give him away to his opponent.

This was how Erik planned his encounters with any hint of a threat.

Christine's voice drifted through the open window and into the room. It filled Erik with a breath of fresh air once again. Christine still preforming in an opera nearby giving Erik all the more reason to think about her.

He pushed the dagger back into its sheath and set it down then pulling the ring from his shirt tied to a necklace.

Sitting on his bed he watched Y/n's silhouette through the curtain, her body tense while she slept, then back at the ring. While in thought he starts humming.

"No more talk of darkness,

Forget these wide-eyed fears,

I'm here, nothing can harm you,

My words will warm and calm you." his thoughts turned into a comforting melody.

Y/n's shoulders relax by hearing Erik sing like she's gotten so use to. He smiles seeing her figure calm down.

"Christine, you'll have to wait. I must protect My Y/n first."

○○○

Loud cheers from two or three men early in the morning. Their obnoxious voices make Y/n jump out of her dreams and right into the bright morning.

She groans rubbing her eyes with her palm, her wild, lioness hair never breaking the morning routine it kept.

She sighed and stood up from the bed, quickly pulling back the curtain. Erik was still fast asleep with his newly made black mask on the bedside table.

Y/n smiled warmly walking over to him and placing a very quiet kiss on his cheek. A small groan from Erik still fast asleep, then Y/n prepared for the day ahead.

She sighed pulling her shoes on and quietly closing the door behind her. Breakfast was served downstairs as a way of welcoming her and Erik to work in the mornings.

She skipped downstairs with a smile before sliding down the hand rail skipping the last few steps.

"Bonjour Boris!"

She smiled and spun around to the back of the bar where she grabbed a fork.

"Bonjour, girl. Hope you're hungry!" he said tossing a cloth over his shoulder and pushing two plates onto the counter."

Y/n takes a deep breath inhaling the fresh smell of warm bread. She swiftly grabs the bread and took a seat on one of the bar stools.

"Mm~ You spoil us, boy!" she teases Boris while chewing happily, only to receive a smack over the head with the cloth Boris had.

"Ow-!"

Boris smirks with a little chuckle before looking at the door that creaked open.

"Welcome! What can I get for you?"

"I'm looking for a girl."

Once again Y/n stops chewing and drops the bread into the plate causing the fork to fall out and onto the floor. Her heart pounding in her throat at the familiar voice she heard behind her.

Her body slowly turns to see a young gentleman in the doorway. A coat hung over his shoulder and a neat vest over a white V-neck shirt.

His eyes bright blue and his curly blond hair pulled into a formal ponytail with a few stray strands.

"A-Aloïs...?"

Y/n stands straight only for the shock to hit her fast. She falls back onto the bar holding herself up with her elbows.

Slowly Aloïs walks closer and kneels down to match her hight. Delicately he lifts her chin to look at him.

"Y/n, My darling. I've been looking for you for so long." a smooth whisper before he plants a kiss on her lips.

Y/n is taken by surprise and pushes Aloïs back with her hand on his chest.

"Hold on!" she objects but Aloïs scoops her into his arms and lifts her bridal style.

"Aloïs! Please wait! I-I need to-!" her heart now in her throat she couldn't get the words out fast enough as Aloïs carries her to the door.

"Don't worry! You're safe now!" Aloïs boasted with his head held high, feeling like a knight in shining armor rescuing the damsel.

Aloïs was inches from the door when he's slammed to the side and Y/n is dropped to her feet. With one hand she's pulled into Erik's chest, holding her body tightly against it. So tight that she could hear his heart pounding aswell.

Erik holds his dagger out to Aloïs and glares even more daggers towards him.

The villain come to claim back the damsel, he held Y/n's shoulders then growls out his objection.

"She said, Wait."

Aloïs stands up from where he was pushed and looks at the masked man confused.

"You?" he proclaimed.

Y/n squeezes her eyes shut and listens to Erik's heart for just a moment. He was terrified of her leaving. Tho he doesn't talk much about his past, Y/n knows for a fact he's terrified of ending up alone again.

"That's enough!"

She shakes herself out of her panic, at least enough to talk then looks straight back at Aloïs.

"Let's talk outside."

After getting Erik to lower the dagger, they meet outside of the tavern to talk. Erik right beside Y/n leaning against the wall and listening to every word.

Y/n is the first to talk with her hands fidgeting with her dress.

"How is this possible Aloïs? I saw you get crushed by the falling beams! I heard you scream as you got burnt."

She looks at Aloïs though her hanging locks of hair.

"I did, but I was found. And thanks to my parents, I got the right treatment." his hand moves to his collar only to pull it down low enough to reveal some scarring peaking out of his shirt and crawling up his neck.

"After that I made it a priority to find you. I asked the Managers but those cowards didn't even bother to check how many people survived!"

He takes a step towards Y/n but stops the second Erik growls.

Clearing his throat he looks back at Y/n.

"I hired a private investigator to find you. In the end, they told me of a girl dancing in a tavern matching your description. I knew it had to be you! Now I've come to take you to a safer place."

Y/n shakes her head with her body still tense.

"Leave with you? Aloïs? I barely recognize you! It's been months since, I saw you die. Now you have fancy clothes and an expensive carriage!"

"Yes! To live the life we always talked about! Y/n, I have the money now."

He reaches for Y/n's hand but she pulls away.

"Aloïs... I've mourned for you, I've finally gotten myself to stop crying and move on, you want me to come right back?"

She clenches her teeth and pushes her index finger against Aloïs's chest.

"You may have been in the Opera for a few years, but I've had to learn to create an entire new life for myself and Erik!"

Y/n feels angry tears fill her eyes.

"We can't just start loving each other again!"

Y/n proclaims.

"We still could! I'm still the same Aloïs, Y/n. All you have to do..."

Aloïs pulls a sparkling ring from his pocket and holds it out to Y/n making her gasp.

"... Is give me a chance to show you."

Y/n looks at the glittering jewel as he places it in her palm and folds her fingertips over it.

"Think about it, my love."

He places a kiss on her hand. That was the final straw, Y/n couldn't take everything anymore, she took off back into the tavern leaving Erik and Aloïs.

Aloïs gives a long sigh before straightening his coat and popping the collar.

"That didn't go as planned, I'm afraid."

As much as he didn't want to, Erik chuckled at Aloïs's failed proposal allowing Aloïs to glare him down.

"You! You said you would leave her out of it."

"No, I said I'd remember her." he teased Aloïs.

Aloïs retorts.

"Don't forget, I know exactly what you are. What would Y/n think if she knew she was living with a murderer. The Phantom."

Erik's eyes go red and he shoves Aloïs against the wall and was about to plunge the dagger into the fancy vest Aloïs wore, but Aloïs grabbed Erik's mask almost yanking it off.

"Careful now! You kill me, Y/n will know instantly by my screams." Aloïs warns.

Phantom looks at Aloïs with his one eye that's not covered by Aloïs's palm. Taking a careful step backwards, he let's Aloïs go.

Aloïs straightens his coat and smirks walking to his carriage.

"Tell Y/n I will return for her answer, and you better not be here."

A final threat from Aloïs before the whip echoes and the horses gallop down the street.

[samalong1]

Hannibal X abused opera Reader

Written with a oc in mind but using you and such

Dead dove do not eat

Tw rape and abuse of power (not by Hannibal) murder,disgust,sucide mentioned, pig fed to pigs,use of guns,cannibalism,and Nsfw and rape

Hannibal preffered knives and similar weopons to guns. It was more intimidate along with consuming his victims getting close to another life. One that had struggles,prides,family, and memories. Ending as they bleed on his knife only to consume him.

He only used a gun once. And never again. He still had the gun in his office framed and everything.

It was for a specific man a man he once respected. The man was called Vernin. He worked hard he performed,directed,and wrote opera even having a few books about him and now worked as a professor at a university teaching others his craft.

He woudnt say he admired him but was aware of his work. So when he attended a Opera performance he was suprised to see a woman introduced as his Student.

You were breathtaking. He got to speak with you and he was pleased to be in the presence of your wits and charm.

He befriended you and while he would of done so if Vernin weren't your mentor he became acquainted to him. He didn't mind of course but he grew suspicious. You were a former student of his and he was still your mentor but his hand would sneak onto your waist and your charm and wit would pour away when he was near.

He tried to speak to you alone but not for perverse reasons but simply to enjoy your company but he'd insist on coming. The man he respected became a annoyance you were flowering as a singer and he was holding you back.

As he got to know you more secretly their was some feelings between you to. He learned that your parents died early in your childhood your mother from cancer and your father years later in a murder suicide from your stepmother.

You came from foster care, a orphan with nothing but you used your voice at first for comfort but soon you learned to flourish from it. You became well educated, you spoke multiple languges,you attended a top college, and you sang at such famous venues and in such classical operas. Your beauty aswell your bright eyes and warm skin all paired with such plump and soft body features.

He started to notice signs more often, how much Vernin dulled you. It all made sense one night when he saw him in one of his fancy parking cars in the opera parking lot, in a blind spot forcing himself on you as he cried. He knew this wasn't the first time. He knew the dullness was fear.

It took weeks. You went through so much you didn't deserve to witness his act. The act of him shooting the man he once respected in the head, he wasn't bothered to create art or a scene of his body and the thoughts of eating the man sickened him.

His body was fed to the pigs the only animal close to his level of filth. He stared as the body was eaten feeling a small smirk.

After the grieving you were much happier in his arms. You flourished you were much happier with him then Vernin ever made you. After every show he was in the crowd holding flowers and giving a standing ovation and if he wasn't clapping it was because he was lost in the smile and glimmer in your eyes.

[malleux]

performance anxiety.

-> lyney x fem!famous singer!reader

-> warnings: mentions of past bad relationship, anxiety, no use of y/n

-> words: 3.4k

[a/n]: this was not supposed to be this long but. not proofread, idk what universe this is in where all of these characters are friends but shut up. i just started writing, gun to my head i could not tell you what happens in this story

Applause. Roses. Adoration. Entertainment. 

You craved the effervescence of the spotlight. The thrill of being on stage. Millions of eyes are on you and you alone– coming together for the sole purpose of viewing you. 

It seemed a bit voyeuristic, but you couldn’t care less as the final notes of your song rang out across stages all over the country and applause replaced the roaring in your ears. People stood as they clapped, whooping and hollering. All for you. 

You stood before them night after night, baring the roughest edges of yourself on the stage for them all to judge. You were vulnerable to every attack possible– verbal, physical, emotional. Yet none occurred, save for the dozens of flowers that showered you every night as you completed a performance flawlessly once again. 

It was only after you made it backstage to your dressing room that you finally took a breath. A very shaky, very exhausted breath. Stagehands ran back and forth, putting up props and fixing light fixtures for someone else’s performance the next night, but they reassured you that nobody could possibly outshine you after you had christened the Opera Epiclese. 

Your first performance in Fontaine. In your hometown. 

“That was amazing!” Your manager burst through the door, a cup of water in her hands. She passes it to you. “One of your best performances yet– not that the others were bad! Quite the opposite, actually–”

“I get it. Thank you.” You chewed on your lip, gazing at yourself in the mirror. You looked frazzled up close with the stage makeup slightly smeared across your face. Not enough for the audience to notice, though. No, to them, you were perfection. “I hope they thought the same.”

“Are you kidding? You were amazing. I bet you made at least ten men think about leaving their wives for you tonight.” You cut your eyes at her, and she backtracked immediately. “I-I mean! Oh, that was such a bad analogy, wasn’t it? I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” 

It really wasn’t fine, but you weren’t going to make your friend-turned-manager feel any worse than she already does for bringing up the past. You weren’t married– Archons, no– but you lived a fast life that not many were equipped to handle, especially if they were staying home while you traveled Teyvat on a tour. 

Your ex couldn’t handle you and your lifestyle, so he handled others in bed instead. 

It didn’t sting as bad as you would have expected it to. You couldn’t take the time to grieve, not when there was a performance in Natlan the night you found out. Other performers and those who lived a more nomadic lifestyle had warned you about failed relationships and friendships with those who did not stay close or did not understand the busyness of traveling. You truly believed you were the exception, and now you realize that such relationships are impossible. You chose this life, thus giving up the idea of a simple love. Your friends were your manager and the crew that traveled with you, and that was that. You didn’t stay anywhere long enough to culminate true, meaningful connections with anyone. 

“Are you ready for the encore?” 

You swiped another layer of lipstick on and fluffed your hair in the mirror before turning back to your manager. 

“Born ready.” 

—---

Lyney sat on the edge of his seat for the past hour and a half and continues to do so, staring at the dark stage. 

His sister keeps a hand near his chair, just in case he somehow leans too far forward and falls out of it completely. She’ll never understand his infatuation with such a famous singer– it’s not like he had a shot with you anyway. Nevertheless, she made sure to surprise him with front-row tickets the minute she learned of your performance at Fontaine’s beloved Opera Epiclese. 

Lyney nearly cried in happiness and he’s nearly crying now, praying to every Archon above that you’re going to come out for an encore and that this isn’t the end of your show. The tears almost fall as the spotlight graces the stage once more and music fills the room. 

Everyone in Fontaine tried to get tickets for your performance and the most influential of citizens were sure to attend. Furina sat in the VIP box, leaning on her hand as she watched you step back onstage. She was quiet for once, enraptured by your voice. Clorinde was at her side. Neuvillette sat near the twins, seated but smiling. Charlotte and Navia were a bit further back, Charlotte furiously scribbling on her notepad to review the performance. She stopped writing halfway through, though, unable to stop herself from just enjoying the performance. Wriothesley and Sigewinne showed their faces from outside of the Fortress, the former succumbing to the latter’s pleas for tickets. Even Freminet was there, on the other side of Lyney, just happy to see his brother so happy. 

And yet there he was, sitting in the middle of the row, front and center. A perfect view. And there you were, in that jaw-dropping dress that sparkled perfectly in the lights, reflecting the same way the stars in the sky shined. Lyney was positive there were also stars in his eyes, but he couldn’t help it. 

And when the performance was over, Lyney finally sat back in his seat and exhaled a deep breath– one he had been holding since the minute you appeared onstage. 

Lynette looked him over as if to make sure he was okay and happy. She didn’t need any words to tell that he was over the moon. “Are you ready to go?”

“Just– just give me one minute.”

—---

“How long will you be in Fontaine?”

“Probably a week or two, at most.” You hummed, finally eating a snack left for you by the Hydro Archon herself. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been home. I’d like to stay a bit longer.” 

“Hmm,” Furina’s finger tapped her chin– a clear sign that she was thinking. About what, nobody could tell. “How about another performance before you leave? Many people didn’t get tickets to this first show. You’ve had so many supporters from here since you started. Why not give them a special thanks? Especially me, since I’ve supported you and been your friend for all these years?” 

You squinted at her for a moment, trying to decipher what she could be devising in her head. You weren’t a mind reader, and Furina didn’t necessarily all have it going on in her head, so you opted to just ask her outright. “What could you possibly gain from that?” 

She reeled back, feigning offense. “Nothing! It’s-it’s just that it’s great for business. And we’re having special visitors soon who may want to see. Totally not because I want to watch it again– heh.”

“What special visitors?”

“Why, the Traveler and Paimon, of course!” Furina clapped, “Yes, yes. They’d love to see your performance.”

“Hm.” You continued staring at her, unconvinced that the legendary Traveler wanted to see your performance. But, you did get to perform again and get a part of the profits. You didn’t see why not. “Fine.” 

The squeal that came out of Furina’s mouth was enough to almost break your glass of water– a feat many singers trained to do for years and could not accomplish. Yet, your friend was close to doing it without even trying out of sheer excitement. 

She grabbed your hand once you were done changing clothes and dragged you out of the dressing room. You had no choice but to follow as she led you into the main room, where the audience sat. It looked much different from before with the lights on and the chairs empty. 

Except for two chairs, three people still present in the opera house. 

At the sound of her voice, the three turned around. There was a pair of twins and a younger blonde boy. The twin boy made eye contact with you and seemed to shoot straight up, becoming entranced as he saw you. This was typically a normal reaction for fans, but there was one difference this time. 

You were entranced too. 

Furina looked at the three and huffed. “Isn’t it time for you to go home?”

“Sorry, Lady Furina,” The youngest boy spoke and motioned to the other boy, whose face was bright red. “Lyney just needed to sit for a minute.”

“Is he okay?” You tilted your head, gently shaking free of Furina and walking to them. Furina gasped and crossed her arms, almost angry that she didn’t have your attention anymore as your self-titled “best friend”. “Your face is hot.” 

The twin girl hid her mouth with her hand. “He’ll be okay eventually. I think he got overheated or something. Got all nauseous and dizzy.”

“Oh my Gods, I’m so sorry!” You felt awful– you had told someone that you felt the air was a bit too hot in the audience, but you were brushed off. This just proved that you were right. “You all come with me, there’s fresh water and everything in the guest house I’m staying in tonight.”

You ushered everyone out of Opera Epiclese and into the small building next to it. It was the guesthouse, built solely for performers without a place to stay as they traveled. You were given it for your time in Fontaine and couldn’t be more grateful, especially at a time like this when someone is in need. 

Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet– as you learned their names were– followed you and a pouting Furina into the house. You offered them all a seat on the couches and chairs before running to the kitchen and grabbing a bowl of cool water and a rag. You sat next to Lyney, who was silent the entire time, and neared his face as you put the rag on his forehead. You were a bit confused at Lynette and Furina’s snickering behind you, but you could only worry about the boy in front of you whose face turned even redder at your closeness. 

“Say,” Furina spoke up, “Lyney and Lynette here are performing at the Opera Epiclese tomorrow. Fancy a show?”

“Really?” You looked into Lyney’s eyes, “What do you do?”

He swallowed, and you wondered if he needed a glass of water. “Magic.”

“You’re magicians? No way!” You grinned, “I’ve always wanted to see a magic show live! Furina, I think we should go. I’d love to see more of these two.”

“I do too.” Lynette joined, “We can get you on the reservation list for front and center… unless you’d like to sit VIP with Furina?” 

“We’ll both sit front row. Neuvillette can have front row if he wishes to attend.” Furina grinned at Lynette, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were missing out of something as you cared for Lyney. 

“Wonderful.” Lynette stands up, followed by Freminet. “I think Lyney just needs rest now, but we don’t live far in the Court of Fontaine. We probably need to head out before it gets too late.” 

You nod and hold your hand out to Lyney, who takes a second of staring before taking your hand and hoisting himself up. You both definitely hold on a bit too long to be typical for someone you just met, but exceptions could always be made. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow then, Lynette.” You glance back at the boy at your side. “Lyney.” 

“Y-yes.” He speaks. You like his voice. “Tomorrow evening. I’d love to see you there.” 

After the three left, Furina stayed on your couch and stared. 

You sat across from her, staring back with a puzzled expression. 

This was the longest you’d ever heard her be quiet and it was incredibly unnerving. You couldn’t take much more of this. 

“What?”

Another beat of silence. “What do you mean ‘what’?”

“What do you mean ‘what do you mean’? What did I do?”

“You’ve never done that before.”

“Done what, Furina? I don’t have time for this–”

“Gotten all flustered like that. You don’t even dote on me like that and I’m your best friend.”

“Lynette said that he got overheated during the performance.” You defended, “I had to help him, I felt bad. I told the crew that it was too hot in there but they didn’t listen–”

“You’re stupid.” Before you could retort in offense, Furina leaned forward. “You haven’t been that open and nice since…” 

You’re glad she doesn’t finish that sentence– doesn’t let his name leave her mouth. Furina is right and you know it, but you definitely don’t want to admit that. Especially not to her. 

“I just felt bad.” She doesn’t believe you and you know it. “Fur, you know I can’t. People can’t keep up with my life. He’s cute, but I’m better off alone.” 

Furina looks away for a moment as if to think about what she’s going to say next for the first time ever. “He’s different.” 

“You don’t know that.”

“First, I know him better than you do. I’ve had my fair share of run-ins with that crew, and I’m the Hydro Archon. I know everyone in Fontaine.” She twirls a finger around her hair– a telltale sign that she’s desperate for someone to listen to her. You want to oblige, but your mind won’t let you. “Lyney understands the life of a performer. Has he traveled? No. But I bet he’d be more than willing to travel with you as like– an opening act or something!” She snaps her fingers as if this is some sort of life-changing revelation. 

Your anxiety says otherwise. 

“What about Lynette and Freminet?”

“They can go with you!” She says as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. “Lynette is Lyney’s assistant, so she has to go. Freminet would be good with helping with finances or something. Or if you happen to drop your wedding ring in the ocean, he can get it.”

“Wedding ring?”

“Yeah, for when you marry–”

A knock on the door interrupts her and you’ve never been happier. You give each other confused looks before you get up and open the door a crack. Behind it is a face all-too-familiar, and you open it wider. 

“I-uh, forgot my hat here.” Lyney, cheeks still rosy, rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment. 

“O-oh, of course!” You stammer out, leaving him at the door and finding his hat in one of the other chairs. Furina stares him down in a way that makes him feel like he’s intruding on a very important conversation, but he tries to brush it off as one of her theatrics. 

Lyney’s smile returns when you appear again, his hat in your hands, and tries to ignore the jump of his heart as his fingers accidentally brush yours when he takes it. “Thank you so much.” You watch as his figure begins to retreat from the guesthouse, but he quickly turns around and waves. “And I do hope to see you tomorrow.”

—---

Lyney does, in fact, get to see you tomorrow. 

Peeking through the curtain, he sees you front and center, sitting in the same exact seat that he was in the night before. Furina is at your side, chatting with you happily and ignoring the questioning whispers of her citizens as they question why she’s on the floor instead of in her box. Their questions cease when they see you. 

A bit of jealousy hits him as he sees some citizens ask for your autograph or come up to talk to you, but he can’t dwell on it long before Lynette is behind him. 

“Is she here?”

“Yes.” He lets out a nervous breath. “Everything has to be perfect tonight.” 

“It will be.” She reassures, “And don’t worry about anything else. I have it all covered. She’s come to see you and you alone, so you just focus on being the best you can be.”

Lyney has never been more grateful for his sister than he is at that moment. Sure, it was one thing when she accepted his schoolgirl crush on a famous singer, but when she was actually here, at their show, watching him, she was the best wingman in Teyvat. 

He peeked out of the curtain once more, his breath catching in his throat when he sees you looking directly at him. You wave and send him a soft smile and Lyney can feel his entire body heat up. He’s determined and ready for this show to start. 

And with a short countdown, it does. 

In most performances, Lyney keeps his eyes above the crowd. It’s an illusion many performers learn– don’t look directly at anyone specifically, it’s easier to quell the anxiety of thousands of eyes being on you, judging your every move. He knows you do this tactic as well, getting to witness it firsthand last night as you wowed the crowd from the very stage he was on tonight. He wondered how he could possibly be equal to such a wonderful performance and his mind gets a bit louder as doubts start plaguing him. As quickly as they come, however, they disappear. 

Lyney looks at you. 

You’re dressed beautifully, hair and makeup done simply as if to bare the real you. Oh, how Lyney longs to know the real you. 

You think it’s a funny coincidence when the first rose comes to you. Just a chance that a draft happened to send it directly into your lap after Lyney throws it into the crowd. Same with the second rose, that he passed off to you personally as he walked by after doing his switch trick with the box. You realize it’s not just some happenstance when the performance ends and you are left with a bouquet of roses in your hands, your face hot as Furina teases you. 

“Rainbow roses have special meaning in Fontaine, you know.” She grinned. You swatted her away. 

“I know.” You huff, “He probably uses those in every show to make the little lucky audience girl feel special.”

Furina opens her mouth to speak, but a voice from behind speaks up before she can. “I normally use Romaritime Flowers, and only pull one out of my hat, but I thought tonight I could do something a little different.”

Lyney prays you aren’t uncomfortable when you turn around– the adrenaline of the show is the only thing driving him to speak to you steadily right now, and he didn’t know what he’d do if he got rejected. He’s pleasantly surprised when you do turn around and your mouth is slightly agape, your cheeks darker than usual. He did his job. 

“They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

“Keep them, they’re yours.” Lyney places his hands on yours to push them back when you go to give him back the bouquet, but he doesn’t remove them when you clutch the flowers to your chest. “This is my official offer– let me treat you to dinner.” 

You turn your head to give Furina a look, but she’s long gone. You make a note to curse her out later. 

“Lyney, I want to accept your offer. So badly. But I just know it won’t work.”

Seeing Lyney’s face fall almost makes you want to take it back, but you can’t. You can’t get hurt again. 

“Please,” His voice has gone soft, “How do you know that?”

“It’s happened before. I’m just protecting you. I’m going to be gone soon and you can forget about this little infatuation–”

“No!” Lyney blurts out but quickly composes himself. “You’re not protecting me, you’re protecting yourself. I’m not whatever man hurt you in the past. I’m a performer too, I can handle all the things that entails.” 

“Lyn… This is only my third country on my tour. I have so many more left, I’ll be gone for a very long time. It’s not fair to ask you to wait for me.”

“I think I get to decide what’s fair for me.” You don’t respond, looking away. Lyney takes your chin between his fingers to make you look at him. “And I think that me waiting for you is a fair trade if it means you come back to me in the end. Please, ma chérie. Consider it.” 

You took a breath, weighing the options as seriously as the Oratrice. You think back to your conversations– the ones with your manager, the ones with Furina. Finally, you meet his eyes fully. Lyney hasn’t looked away, a softness in his eyes that you were not expecting.

“Let’s go to dinner. I’ve been thinking of hiring an opening act for the rest of the tour anyways. How do you feel about that?”

[brandycranby]

Andy hits a milestone for legal cases won. It’s great, he’s taken out to a nice dinner you get to attend with some coworkers, but the thing is, budgets are tight. There’s glittering no watch, no special cufflinks. His gift from the city for the occasion? Embroidered hand towels. Luckily, they’re the good kind. Soft, yet durable. Good for spinning tight and whipping at each other. Able to be….tied. They hold knots very well😈

a/n: take this triple drabble uwu 🤲🏻💕💕

The only consolation he has, Andy muses, is the look on your face when you see what's inside the sleek black box the city administrator handed him. There's not a doubt in his mind that you would have made a good lawyer with the honesty that you confront the world with. No rules, no games. Just pure unadulterated truth.

"I'm literally going to fling manure on their Cadillacs."

"Honey." His tone is fond, indulgent even as you list all the ways you'll vandalize city hall and the ungrateful bozos that gave him hand towels. It's a little deserved - Andy wonders who made the executive decision to choose towels for some reason. Not even a nice wine?

Hand towels.

It's an oddly domestic choice and secretly, he swears to never voice this out loud near you, it might be because he's chosen to get married again. To you. Who can be reckoned as a chore-focused housewife as much as a donkey can be an opera singer.

"Not even a sexy Rolex!" You snap one of the, admittedly, luxurious hand towels in emphasis. The rage in your tone is partially for show, partially realistic; Andy, in the middle of taking off his corporate armor for the night, looks smaller than you remember him being. The all-nighters are taking its toll and wearing him out. Even his plush swimmer's muscles seem diminished.

He pauses in the middle of fingering the second towel in the set, twisting it this way and that, "C'mere." You listen, albeit a little huffily, holding out your hands when he gestures. "I'm not saying it's not a shit gift, but it can keep on giving."

It's no sexy leather belt and the cloth is a lot more forgiving than ideal, but the makeshift handcuffs he eventually knots up will serve its purpose.

"Now, you want to treat me better than the city?"

---

soooo shtinky, sooooo husband

[exactlycleverpirate]

Trying to Make Sense of Rafayel's Timeline

This has been updated here.

Spoilers for basically everything below, except for the endings of he Myths, as I do not have those yet.

First, so notes:

See outline for three possible options for the timing of the pinky promise/rescue. 

As children, she rescued him when he was stranded on the beach and then Rafayel made a pinky promise with MC that “It's settled then. If you don't return I'll…I'll chase you to the ends of the Earth.” (Nightly Stroll and Main Story chapter 7)

Also 3 options for the slaughter of the Lemurians after Rafayel is deceived as a child.

As a boy, Rafayel sings the “Siren's Ballad” as an elegy for the slaughtered Lemurians as he sits on a coral reef alone surrounded by waves dyed red with their blood, watching ships sail away, carrying those who deceived him and slaughtered his people (Anecdote 3). (Could be that Rafayel trusted the wrong humans and revealed either the location of the Lemurians or that they were all vulnerable on Ebb Day) (Perhaps MC had an unwitting hand in this).

These two events may be back to back or occur at separate points in the timeline. Inclined to think the promise came first, then the deception, but could be that he was stranded because of the deception/slaughter, or these events occur separately.

Timeline:

On Earth, past life/lives:

First possible option for the pinky promise/rescue: Their first lives ever meeting each other, starting it all off. 

First possible option for the deception/slaughter: Immediately after their first encounter with each other.

Rafayel and MC are lovers.

MC cursed to be a Sea Witch in the Abyssal Rift and has forgotten Rafayel and being human. He gives up a scale, some of his blood, and his song in a shell to set her free. The potion she makes with these is a bitter scent reminiscent of fermented aquatic plants. She turns human and remembers him. He gets her to shore and then he turns into foam. (When she regains her memories, the voices that play are of current day Rafayel, from his date Your Fragrance. Possibly just because she is remembering this in a dream, rather than those being the actual memories she recovered at the time.) (Fragrant Dream)

Second option for pinky promise/rescue and/or deception/slaughter: Reunited in some reincarnation between the initial life and the current one.

Current life, on Earth:

2024 Rafayel born March 6th (or so he claims).

2026 MC born.

Rafayel was given a Whale Call by Lemurian adults when he was a child. He never had a chance to use it and buried it in a Lemurian city under the sea. (Was this in this life or a previous one?)

Third option for pinky promise/rescue and/or deception/slaughter: This timeline when they are children, likely before the Deepspace Tunnel and Chronorift Catastrophe in 2034

Rafayel's only living family on Earth is his Aunt Talia, also Lemurian. There are some other surviving Lemurians as well who are being hunted, tortured,  and harvested for their scales and blood. (Anecdote 3)

2034 Ruins of Lemuria were revealed near Linkon the same year that the Deepspace Tunnel appeared and the Chronorift Catastrophe occurred. MC (age 8) now has protocore shards in her heart, is adopted by Granny, and has little memory before this event (perhaps this is when she forgets Rafayel).

Rafayel is an Opera Singer in Verona going by the moniker “Mo”, hunting down and killing people, possibly as revenge for the destruction of Lemuria and slaughter of his people. He is in touch with Talia. He also recently attended a Seamoon Ceremony for another Lemurian, K, who dies and is returned to the sea (after having his scales and blood taken). It is suggested that Rafayel is trying to accomplish something to save the Lemurians, saying, “Not every Lemurian survivor can wait.” It appears the longer he takes to accomplish his goal, the more of the Lemurians die in the meanwhile. (Anecdote 3)

He is not painting. 

He is being investigated by a private detective named Louis.

Rafayel remembers the dying cries of his people.

Rafayel leaves Verona and moves to Linkon city. He has a picture of MC in his pocket. (Anecdote 3)

Rafayel uses a private investigator to find out MC is attending Linkon University. He takes a position as a special lecturer there. He sees MC again, talking to some of her classmates. He is confused that she doesn’t seem to know anything about Lemuria. (Anecdote 2)

Rafayel begins painting again.

Rafayel does not tolerate the PI getting too close to MC or taking pictures of her.

Describes his feelings for MC as akin to a spice, painful and addictive.

Indicates he is prepared to be with her for the rest of his life, but also wants to “settle the score”.

Rafayel believes she is being surrounded by dangerous entities, some of whom may possibly be trying to use her to trap him. This is part of why he doesn’t approach her at this time. He decides he can afford to take his time and make his moves carefully. 

Rafayel hires Thomas to be his agent. (Anecdote 1)

2048 MC (age 22) begins work as a Deepspace Hunter. MC and Rafayel are reunited, though MC does not remember Rafayel. Rafayel’s home is called Mo Art Studio.

Rafayel acquires a red Flamula from Lemuria the first time he reintroduces himself to MC. She gives it to him to take home.

When Rafayel attempts to abandon MC to drowning, there is a tail mark that appears above his heart, and he turns around and goes back to her. (Possibly an indication of the bond they forged when he saved her with his scale or made a vow with her).

Lemuria is described as being gone for thousands of years, yet Lemurians are still alive now. (Possibly they had gone into hiding and were revealed when Rafayel was deceived.) (Rafayel described himself as “a lost pearl that washed up on the beach” in Ebb and Flow.)

In “Nightly Stroll” date, Rafayel makes MC vow never to make him wait again, a vow that is blessed by a little blue fish, an Emissary of the Ocean.

In “Your Fragrance” date, Rafayel asks MC who gave her the catnip-like perfume (he says it smells familiar), suggesting she is working with someone, using underhanded methods to trap him. 

(This smell has a similar description to the perfume he gives her later that gives her the dream, as well as the smell of the potion that turns her human. “Bitter like fermented plants”.) 

“Are you trying to run away again? I'm not going anywhere. You're going to lock me up again. You're with them, I just know it. Don't think I'm unaware of what you're about to do. I won't fall for it again. Not this time.” 

(Order of events: Your Fragrance > Dangerously Close > Fragrant Dream)

In “Ebb and Flow” date, he reveals himself as a Lemurian to MC on Ebb Day. She promises to never hurt him.

This vulnerability suggests he has a remarkable amount of trust in MC, despite his bitterness at her forgetting him. 

Rafayel asks MC what she would do if this was all a trap he set up to kill her. This is what is happening in Rafayel’s myth story. Does Rafayel in this time period somehow know about that or is this just foreshadowing? 

In “Whalefall Lament” date, Rafayel takes MC to underwater ruins of Lemuria to dig up the Whale Call he buried there as a child. He describes his childhood as boring and closely guarded. He made many escape attempts when he was young, and was given the Whale Call as a means of protection, but he never had the opportunity to use it, as his escape attempts did not succeed again after this.

Philos (estimated 30,000 years after Earth’s destruction):

Myth takes place on Philos, likely sometime between Xavier and MC meeting for the first time (Xavier’s Anecdote 3) and Xavier's myth story. The oceans have been missing for 30,000 years (possibly because Earth was destroyed and Philos was made with a fake core holding separate tectonic plates together). 

Rafayel was bound to MC when the oceans still existed by giving her one of his scales (see Fragrant Dream for when this may have occurred). 

MC's heart keeps the people of Philos immortal (See Xavier’s Myth for the connection between MC’s heart, the people’s immortality, and Philos’ core) and she was “born from the depths of the earth”. MC remembers living on the Island of Songs in a hut by herself, surrounded by the ocean. (Was this in her first life or some subsequent life on Earth?)

Could Hat Island and the Island of Songs be the same place?

MC is gifted Rafayel when they are young and sets him free. Rafayel later implies he was only caught because he wanted to be.

Rafayel and MC are reunited as adults when she is attempting to escape the palace. They meet several times and grow close, though Rafayel is plotting with Amund.

Rafayel is mentioned as the second most important person to princess MC. The first visits her often. Who is this? Xavier? The King?

There are other Lemurians on Philos with Rafayel,  including Amund. They are killing human nobles, with the belief that by doing so, it will help restore The oceans and Lemurian.

Rafayel is referred to as the God of the Sea in the myth and it is implied that his heart has been stolen by MC. Possibly not literal.

Rafayel believes revenge is meaningless. Only wants to restore the oceans and Lemuria.

MC can use a Lemurian Beacon to summon Rafayel.

Rafayel and Amund take MC to the Island of Songs (now no longer an island), and she recognizes it. Rafayel has to decide whether to believe the legends and cut out MC’s heart in an effort to restore the oceans and Lemuria. Rafayel had previously indicated that the heart must be given willingly. (Don’t have the final 2 chapters of the Myth yet to know how this plays out).

On another note, I am now just sitting here thinking about how both Xavier and Rafayel have loved her for over 30,000 years. And Xavier has been alive through that whole time, possibly watching her die over and over again. *sobs*

Please let me know your thoughts, questions, corrections, insights, what have you. I'm sure i missed stuff or made mistakes. This will likely be updated when I can finish the myths.

[rotting-ink]

Who would you say has the most toxic relationship? The ro that has the most red flags

Off the top of my head, E Rawlins, V De Winter, Quincy Beaumont, Saleos and to some extent A Lancaster.

E Rawlins goes through a corruption arc, and goes from a sweet thing you meet in Book 1 and develops a puppy crush that bulldozes into an infatuation. No matter the relationship, romantic or platonic, E wants to be near the Witch and hates when L is around them. Clingy and entitled. Very possessive.

V De Winters is... Married. Is called a gold digger, obviously had a relationship with an opera singer and now the Witch if they wish to. They're also as possessive as can be. Would want to buy you a flat in town, closer to their place, wants to keep you a kept paramour. If you don't like that, they'd still try their hardest to keep you close. Also has an incredibly cavalier attitude towards sex.

Quincy Beaumont is a touring opera singer who is fine with having affairs with married people, shout out V. They're incredibly possessive and can accidentally treat the Witch as a pet.

With Saleos, any treatment of the Witch like a pet isn't accidental. You're an incredibly cute human pet to them and it does feel that that's exactly how they see you. They want to drape them in collars and jewellery and treats.

A Lancaster feels like a technicality but it's because they're a Witch Hunter. Their relationships starts off purely antagonistic with them trying to reveal the MC as a Witch and hunts them. Is the one that always has way more power over the Witch. Also you do get to later roleplay with them if you want and get railed with their chains around your throat :>

[writers-hes]

the one i love most (a. bridgerton x reader)

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But I knew you Playing hide-and-seek and Giving me your weekends, I I knew you

(Warnings: cheating, folklore by taylor swift… angst), unedited

Kate was your dear friend but it was Anthony Bridgerton who had your heart. It wasn’t something that you meant…Anthony was just always there. He understood you in ways no one ever has. Maybe it was because of the friendship that you both fostered long ago. Two kids in his mother’s garden, playing hide and seek with his siblings. Your friendship was rooted on solid ground and nothing could have ever ruined it.

When Edmund Bridgerton died, it was you who helped Anthony through it all. He said it himself one afternoon while you walked through the lush green grasses of the park. You smiled and brushed it aside. He was your friend, it was the least you could do. Anthony was grateful for you. Grateful that you stayed in his life despite his shortcomings and his mistakes. You’ve always been there for him and he couldn’t just let you go so easily. It hurt him when you left. It broke him when you told him that you’d never want to receive another letter from him…he didn’t follow.

But everything hurt.

It started one night. You were in a secluded area in someone’s estate, attending the party under the guise of looking for marriage.

“My mother has been pestering me to find a wife,” he chuckled. “I don’t think I could marry yet. There’s so much to do…so much to achieve and I…” words fell from his lips as he watched you tilt your head sideways.

“What is it?”

I wanted it to be you. I want you. I want everything but I’m tied down to my responsibilities and I can’t just want you so wantonly without thinking about anything else.

“I am to attend a picnic with the Sharmas,” he sighed. “The younger sister…Edwina. What do you think of her?”

“Why does it matter? She’s smart, capable, and beautiful,” you replied monotonously. Edwina was all of these things but Anthony wanted something else.

“I think it is Kate who has my heart,” you heard him mutter. You looked up at him, hopelessness stirring in your heart. “But I’m not sure yet,”

“Shouldn’t love be as simple as knowing?”

Kate Sharma was the perfect match for Anthony and you couldn’t even deny it. It was there. They were written in the stars; foretold by the cosmos. You simply had no space in his heart. The shape of Anthony that you so carefully took care of would forever be his but you would never be. It was the same thing when he fell in love with the opera singer. He longed for her whilst he occupied your mind.

“But I want you…”

“Anthony?”

“I want you,” he said. “But if it is one of the sisters who I shall marry for the preservation of the honor of my family, then, I shall,”

Words died down in your throat. Were you not honorable enough for him? You shook your head as he neared.

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you since the day I realized that I want you,” he whispered. “Will you allow me?”

One kiss turned into more kisses. Fleeting touches that occurred sometimes. He’d look at you sometimes while you laughed at someone else’s jokes. You’d look away when he’d dance with Kate. Soon, you were travelling the roads less travelled by; wearing Anthony’s garments as to not arouse suspicion. Soon, you were meeting an inconspicuous alleyway that led to a hidden cottage just outside of the city. Only the two of you before he marries Kate tomorrow.

“You’re getting married tomorrow,” you told him.

“But it is you who I want,”

“How many more proposals must I reject for you, Anthony?” you asked but he’d kiss you so you’d never have to think of it ever again.

Tomorrow, when you help Kate prepare for the wedding, you'll have a lump in your throat that you’ll try to swallow. When he puts the ring on her finger, you’d tear up because of how happy you were for the two of them. They’d never know the cross you’d carry in your heart; how terrible you’d feel because Anthony would never be with you. You’d never be his wife. He’d never wake up beside you ever again. You knew that he loved her and you only warmed his bed to keep him from the cold. He’d never know the guilt you’d carry for loving him while he loved someone else. He’d never know anything because at the end of the day, it was Kate whom he loves.

It’s been three days since he married Kate.

He seeked you out in all of those days. He’d come up with a smooth lie about his estate but he’d ultimately end up with you somewhere. He’d hike your skirt an inch higher than what was appropriate and when the sun sets, he’d walk away and let you go. Not today, though. You were set on telling him something important.

“A duke proposed to me,” you muttered while he fixed his belt. He looks at you.

“And what did you say?”

“That I’ll think about it,”

“Say no,” he says, sitting down on the bed, helping you with your corset. “Say no,”

“Why?” you asked. “I’m not getting any younger, Anthony,” you sighed. “My mother wants me to accept his proposal. It’s not everyday I get proposed to by a duke,”

“A viscount isn’t enough for you?” he asks, nibbling softly on your ear.

“No, it’s not like that. You know it isn’t,” you scolded, inching away from him but he holds you closer. “It’s just that…my prospects aren’t as great. Every year, my value dwindles down. This man…he’s kind and considerate. He’s not half as bad and respects me.” Every word seemed to stab Anthony’s heart, twisting it further and further until he was bleeding. “Besides, if I don’t marry, where else will I go?”

“You’ll have me,” he says. “You don’t need a duke to take care of you. I will,”

“And what of my family? What about Kate?” you asked. “Anthony, you’re only mine when we’re together. These clandestine meetings ought to stop soon,”

“Will you make him wait a little bit more? Until I sort things out,” he asks and you nod, your voice betraying you once more. You knew that you had to give an answer soon…but for now, you’ll allow yourself to take Anthony’s word for it. “I promise you’ll never have to look for somebody else to take care of you,”

Between the two of you, you both knew that things would be changing. Anthony has never faced a proposal from a duke before when it came to you. You were right. How many proposals do you have to reject just so you could wait around for him? He knew it was unfair for you but Anthony was a selfish man. He couldn’t imagine himself sharing you with somebody else. He couldn’t imagine losing you and if it took the heavens to come crashing down to do so, he would be more than happy to comply.

He watched as your carriage took you back home. For all everyone knew, you met up with Anthony by the park for an afternoon stroll. It was a daily occurence that shocked no one. Still, when he married Kate, the Ton wondered if these meetings would stop. The town moved on from one gossip to another but one thing was sure…they’d never get over how a married Viscount and a spinster from a respectable family met up every afternoon without lapse.

You sat in the drawing room of your house. You heard the whispers on the street. How shameless! You knew what they said about you but still, there was something inside your heart that bloomed whenever you saw Anthony. You’d never admit it to him and it seems that he’d never say it too but without the verbiage of confessions, you just both knew.

You hated how he made you feel sometimes. It hurt to know that no matter what you did, you’d never take things back. It hurt to know that you were hurting Kate too. She’d never hurt you the way you hurt her. Multiple times…over and over again. Anthony would never know the guilt that consumed you whenever you laid with him…the torment of knowing what’s right but doing what’s wrong because for him, what he was doing was right. He was a selfish man.

The next time you met Anthony with even more confusing feelings was a dinner hosted by your family. He was with Kate, happiness painting his face so effortlessly. Kate made him happy while you looked like you were dying multiple times. You flashed a smile when Kate found you. It was so natural, nobody would ever suspect a thing.

“Kate, you look so beautiful,” you told her. “Marriage life suits you,”

“Anthony treats me well,” Kate laughs. “I heard a duke has proposed to you…?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “I…said yes,”

“What? That’s amazing!” Kate exclaims but you shush her.

“It’s still something that we decided to keep between us,” you confessed. “A moment of peace before the Ton realizes,” You couldn’t look at Anthony who appeared beside Kate.

“Anthony, you can’t tell anyone but our dear friend is spoken for,” Kate whispers and Anthony could feel his world crumble. He showed it with a fake smile and a clench of his jaw.

“What?” he asked, incredulously. “You’re engaged?”

“Yes,” you whispered, looking everywhere but him. “I am,”

“Excuse me for a moment,” Kate says, sensing the tension between the two of you. She knew that you were the closest among the Ton and you were the one to thank for how Anthony turned out. He only ever listened to you and she often wondered if his heart belonged to someone else. Maybe you…but you were engaged now. Surely, she’d never have to worry about that. About you.

“Let’s go,” Anthony says, taking your arm and then dragging you to your room. How scandalous. It hurt to think that for him, he could drag you everywhere else without so much as a word from you. He locks the door behind him and looks at you like you’ve murdered him.

“Is it true?” he demands. “That you’re spoken for?”

“Anthony—“

“Please…just tell me,” he begs. “Is it true?”

“It is,” you nod and he inhales a breath. “I was planning to tell you tonight. He’s kind, Anthony. You’d never have to worry about how he treats me,”

“Break it off,” he says.

“Excuse me?”

“Break off your engagement. It’s my job to take care of you. While it’s early,”

You felt anger bubbling inside you. How could he ask that of you when he could never do the same?

“We can’t keep on seeing each other like this, Anthony,” you tell him calmly. “Kate loves you and I…”

“What about you? Do you love him?”

“I’m engaged to him,”

“Do you love him?”

“I’ll learn to!” you cried. “He’s a great man, Anthony and after we wed in England, he’ll take me away from here and bring me to Scotland,”

“What?” he asked. “He’ll take you away from me? What about me? What about us? You’ll forget about us that easily? Like we were nothing? You know that I need you here. Why are you leaving me? Do you not love me?”

“You can’t do that to me, Anthony,” you tell him. “I could have stayed with you for a lifetime if you weren’t married…but this—everything—doesn’t feel right anymore. I’m hurting Kate. We’re hurting her without her knowing and you’re hurting me.” you cried. “This is all too confusing for me and I’m afraid we have to let it end here,”

“We can’t. We’ve known each other in all of our years. You just can’t leave me here alone.”

“But you are married to Kate! It doesn’t feel right. Do you know what the Ton thinks? I used to think that we could just both run away,” you told him. “I thought about it but it couldn’t happen. You have your responsibilities and I have mine…”

“I need you here,” he begged, sitting down on your bed as you walked towards him. “Just stay here with me. You can marry him…just stay here with me, please,”

“Anthony…”

“Please,” he begs, wrapping his arms around your waist and laying his head on your chest. “You can’t leave me. You’re the only person in this whole world that gets me. You know me more than anyone else. You’re my person,”

“But I don’t know you anymore, Anthony. Ever since you married Kate, everything between us became purely physical. You don’t talk to me anymore. You don’t kiss me the same way you used to. You stopped letting me in,” you said, stroking his hair softly.

“Please. I’ll be better. Kate may be who I am married to on paper but it has always been you,”

“So, why didn’t you choose me?”

Anthony stilled. You’d never know how much he wanted you. You’d never know how much he yearned for you. You’d never know how he had to stop himself from loving you completely because he believes that he’d never deserve your love. He didn’t want to marry in love and you wanted it more than anything. He was tied down to produce an heir. He never wanted to love but you took it from him. He’ll always be the first born. His responsibilities must come first before his whims.

“And then what? We’ll hurt two people?” you asked, hands on his shoulders to push him away. “Anthony, I’m so tired of hurting the people that I love,”

“Am I not who you love the most?” he asks in a small whisper. “You’re who I love the most,”

“So why did you marry Kate?” you asked, breaking away from him. “You’re telling me you love me now when you’re married to someone else. When I’m about to marry somebody else,” you cried, tears flowing from both your eyes. “I’ve done nothing but love you in all our years. I was so, so, so convinced that you were going to marry me. I rejected proposals and prospects because I was holding onto that thread so badly but you never once asked me for a dance,”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m so, so, sorry,”

“If I asked you to run away with me now…would you?”

“Kate is pregnant,”

You could only chuckle as you moved from him.

“Kate is pregnant,” you nodded. “Kate is pregnant and yet, here you are begging for me to stay. You’re about to have a family, Anthony. Why can’t you see that we’re hurting the one we love?”

“Because I love you the most,”

“Kate is pregnant,” you reminded him. “Anthony, we should stop all the emotions that linger. I’m leaving England and you have to leave me too. We’d never be the same. We could never have our nights again. I am thankful for them, trust me…but this—this needs to stop.” you shook your head in disbelief and excused yourself.

Anthony watched as you left your bedchamber. He’d have to save face and attend your wedding soon but for now, he’ll allow himself to nurse his broken heart in the place where you broke it into a million pieces.

Marked me like a bloodstain, I I knew you Tried to change the ending Peter losing Wendy, I I knew you Leavin' like a father Running like water, I And when you are young, they assume you know nothing

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[guujikaroko]

PLEASE go on about genshin characters and instruments and genres 🙏🙏 Totally agree with your Sumeru 4 headcanons! Like as much as I like kpop, I can’t see them being a kpop group

Ok, fine, just because you asked (<- really wanted to do that for a while anyway)!

Since there's so many characters, I'll only do some this round with a little explanation.

Lumine: she's a jazz clarinet! Clarinets have this airy, whimsical sound that just screams "Lumine" to me, but it's specifically in a jazz contest that it reminds me of her. Since I default to Traveler Lumine, I imagine her being a star in ascension in the jazz world, always busking and playing with other famous jazz musicians and befriending them.

Aether: a classical clarinet. I envision the twins mastering the same instrument but going off to build their music careers in different genres. Clarinet in classical music also has an airy quality to it (is the instrument's nature, after all), but the "mood" is noticeably different from a clarinet in jazz music.

Venti: he's pretty much the creator of Mondstadtian music, so he probably knows everything medieval under the sun. But he isn't one to stay complacent either, so along with classical harp, he'd also play the accordion, with is vital for European folk music! I'm sure he's proficient with a ton more instruments.

Diluc: classical violinist. Do you ever look at this man? His face screams "I hate Paganini for what he did to my fingers". Damn near a virtuoso too.

Zhongli: he's not an expert in Liyuese culture, he IS Liyuese culture. I can only give him the erhu. He had all the time in the world to master every piece of traditional music possible and I'm sure he'd be a living legend in the orchestras of today. That being said, he loves trying new things, so I bet he'd dabble on things like jazz erhu too.

Childe: he looks like an electric bass player to me. Now, what genre does he play in is the question... I'm staying with funk for now, but it's subject to change. He does look like he'd dance a lot while playing too.

Ei: she's been disconnected from her people for a LONG while, so I wouldn't be surprised if she only knows gagaku (traditional Japanese music). With that in mind, I'd choose the koto for her.

Itto: unemployment be damned, my boy can play some drums! It's so easy to imagine the whole Arataki gang getting ready to work on a taiko ensemble. But I think Itto would like to try some drum kit too.

Nahida: while the image of her holding a big-ass citar would be hilarious, I think she'd actually be a tabla player. You know what they say about percussion being the backbone of music; Nahida's reliable like that.

Wanderer: Mr. Kabuki over there could have played gagaku in the old days, but I actually think he was more of a singer instead. And, after the Sumeru Archon Quest, he could have picked up traditional forms of Indian singing too. In general, I'll always associate his musicality with theater.

Furina: also a singer. Originally an opera singer, grew tired and overwhelmed by her career and then retired. I think she's a jazz soloist these days, but she doesn't really make a career out of it anymore.

Neuvillette: a very talented cellist, but I think it's more of a pastime for him than an actual career. Otherwise, I can see him as a superb orchestra conductor.