#a phantom in enchanting light

[ljaesch]

Yen Press' Announcements at New York Comic Con 2024

Yen Press announced 16 licenses during its pane at New York Comic Con 2024: Title: The Summer Hikaru Died novel Authors: Mio Nukaga, original story and illustrations by Mokumokuren Release Date: April 2025 Summary: The bond between Yoshiki and Hikaru is a welcome escape from their isolated village. But one fateful day when the two boys meet up, Yoshiki can immediately tell something is off.…

[floatyflowers]

Dark Single Father! Male Faerie x Reader

The air of the forest hung heavy with the scent of damp grass and pine, a blissful eerie sound of rustling leaves and nightly creatures adding to the forest's beauty.

You had heard the warnings about wandering too far into the woods, especially at night, but you needed to collect herbs for your child who suddenly got sick in the middle of the night.

And your empty jars of herbs forced you to wander far into the forest.

A journey you had to undertake alone due to your husband being an awful, useless man who never showed support in maintaining your household and instead shirked his responsibilities, leaving you to bear the burden.

That night, as you stepped over twisted roots and through patches of glowing mushrooms, you felt the air shift

A strange hum echoes through the air, raising goosebumps on your skin and sending a shiver down your spine.

It seemed to emanate from the woods around you, growing louder with each passing second.  

Before you could turn back, a shadow detached itself from the darkness beneath the trees.

It moved with an unnatural swiftness and silence, gliding over the forest floor like a phantom.

Then, two points of eerie light ignited within the shadow, piercing the gloom like malevolent stars.

They locked onto yours, holding you captive in their unwavering gaze.

The last thing to register in your terrified mind was the faint sound of laughter echoing through the trees, a chilling notable contrast to the frantic beating of your heart.

                              𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

Your eyelids fluttered open, and you found yourself in a room that seemed to defy logic.

The walls shimmered as if woven from starlight, and the air carried a faint, sweet scent of flowers.

But what truly caught your attention was the weight on your chest.

You looked down, your breath catching in your throat. Nestled against your chest, swaddled in a blanket of silken gossamer, was a baby.

Their skin glowed faintly, and tiny, delicate wings, translucent and shimmering, rested against their back.

The child slept peacefully, their tiny fingers curled around the fabric of your dress.

Your heart swelled with an inexplicable tenderness.

Despite the baby being of a different species, their innocence and vulnerability reminded you of your own son.                      

Before you could fully process the situation, you felt a presence in the room.

Your eyes snapped up, and there he was. The figure from the forest.

His dark green eyes watched you intently, and his expression was unreadable, a mask of calm that only deepened your unease.

"You’re awake," he said, his voice low and smooth, holding an enchanting effect on your ears.

It was not a question, but a statement, as if he had been waiting for this moment.

You tightened your hold on the baby instinctively, your voice trembling as you spoke.

"Where am I? Who are you? And why… why is this child with me?"

He stepped closer, his movements filled with grace, like a predator circling its prey.

Yet, there was something in his gaze something that softened the edges of his intimidating presence.

"You are in my realm," he said simply.

"I am Cathal, lord of the Seelie court. And the child… she is mine, her name is Gwen"

Your breath hitched at his words, knowing very well that Faeries are horrid creatures due to their mischievous and cruel behavior towards humans like you.

Their wild nature made them unpredictable, and their magic, while beautiful, is used for wicked deeds that brought harm to unsuspecting mortals.

The baby, his daughter, stirred slightly in your arms, her tiny wings fluttering before she settled again.

You looked down at her, your heart aching with fear at what he might do to you.

"Why did you bring me here?"you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Kael’s gaze lingered on the child, his expression unreadable for a moment before he spoke.

"She needs a mother," he said, his voice tinged with something you couldn’t quite place.

"Her mother is gone. Dead, leaving me to raise her alone. But I can't take on that role."

"I have a child of my own, sick one that needs my care, I-"

"I know,” Cathal interrupted as his dark green eyes bore into yours, and for a moment, you felt like shrinking back into yourself.

“I have seen your struggles. I know of your child, your husband, I have been...watching for months."

"I don't care why you've been watching me," you forced out.

"I need to go back. My son needs me."

"I have sent someone to care for your child, but if you want to reunit with him, you will have to be the best mother to my Gwenn."

The Faerie Lord smirks mischeviously, as if he'd just delivered a particularly delightful jest.

"However," he continues, his voice turning sharp and cold,

"If I feel like you don't care for my daughter as you should, that you do not love her as fiercely and devotedly as you love your own son, I will have him killed. And not a quick death, either."

[bodybaggage]

Shadows and Crowns

John Constantine finds himself dealing with royalty

john constantine/danny phantom

---

The London night was dark and damp, as was typical, but something was off. John Constantine could feel it, a prickle on the back of his neck—a telltale sign that something eldritch was afoot. He lit another cigarette, letting the smoke drift lazily upward as he navigated the narrow alleyways with practiced ease. His trench coat fluttered in the cool breeze, and he kept his eyes peeled for any sign of trouble.

It didn’t take long.

A sharp chill in the air made him pause, and he squinted into the fog ahead. The magical wards he had set earlier had been triggered, a clear sign that something powerful—otherworldly—had entered his turf. But what appeared before him wasn’t what he expected.

At first, it was just a flicker of light, almost like a distant star. But then it grew, taking on shape and form until a figure hovered a few feet above the ground, wrapped in a swirling cloak of darkness and stardust. His skin was pale, almost translucent, and his hair, a wild shock of white, floated around his head like a halo. His eyes glowed a vibrant, unnatural green, and his presence was something between awe-inspiring and terrifying. It was like staring into the cosmos itself—an eldritch being that seemed to draw the very night around it, bending reality with its mere existence.

John’s instincts screamed at him to run—this was no ordinary spirit, no run-of-the-mill ghost looking for a lost love or a wayward path to the afterlife. This was something far more ancient, far more powerful. Yet, his curiosity, the part of him that had always led him to the darkest corners of the magical world, kept him rooted to the spot.

“Bloody hell,” John muttered under his breath, taking another drag of his cigarette. “What the sodding hell are you?”

The figure tilted its head, the ethereal light of its eyes flickering with amusement. When it spoke, its voice was like a chorus, reverberating through the night air. “I could ask you the same, human.”

John’s eyes narrowed, not liking the sound of that. “Names, mate. I’m partial to knowin’ who—or what—I’m dealin’ with.”

The being seemed to consider this, the stars within its cloak twinkling brighter for a moment. Then, the dark shroud began to recede, revealing a figure beneath it. As the shadows peeled away, what remained was no less intimidating but far more defined.

He was tall, his body clad in armor that seemed to be forged from the cosmos itself—galaxies spun across the black metal, and constellations shimmered in the darkness. A flaming green crown rested atop his head, its fire dancing without heat, and a glowing green ring adorned his right hand, pulsating with power. The armor was intricately detailed, each piece enchanted with symbols John barely recognized but knew were ancient. Despite the regal appearance, there was something unnervingly beautiful about him—an otherworldly allure that tugged at the edges of John’s senses.

“Phantom,” the figure finally said, his voice still carrying that ethereal echo but now more grounded, more human. “King of the Infinite Realms.”

John’s cigarette nearly fell from his lips, but he caught himself just in time. “Infinite Realms, you say? Thought old Pariah Dark was still in charge of that bloody mess.”

Phantom’s expression darkened ever so slightly, the light of his eyes dimming. “Not anymore. I defeated him years ago. The Realms are under new rule now.”

John swore under his breath, stubbing out his cigarette on the damp pavement. The Infinite Realms were the stuff of nightmares—stories passed around in the magical underworld, tales of spirits and realms so dangerous that even the most seasoned sorcerers gave them a wide berth. Constantine himself had always steered clear of anything remotely connected to the place, and now here he was, face to face with its bloody king.

“Well, that’s just grand,” John muttered, more to himself than to Phantom. He cleared his throat, trying to regain some semblance of control. “So, what brings the King of Ghosts to my doorstep, eh? Don’t tell me you’ve come to add my soul to your collection.”

Phantom’s lips twitched into a small, knowing smile, and John felt an odd flutter in his chest—damn, he was ethereal. “Not quite. I’m here on business. I believe you’re familiar with the Soul Shredder?”

John’s blood ran cold. Of course he knew the Soul Shredder, a cursed artifact from the darkest corners of the Realms. It was said to be wielded by Fright Knight, Pariah Dark’s former right hand—a spectral warrior of unparalleled power. Rumor had it that the sword had been lost during Pariah Dark’s defeat, its whereabouts unknown. That was until now, apparently.

“Yeah, I’ve heard of it,” John admitted, his tone cautious. “But what’s it got to do with me?”

“It’s been stolen,” Phantom said, his expression turning serious. “And the one who took it has brought it to your world.”

Constantine swore again. “And you think I know somethin’ about it?”

Phantom’s gaze was piercing, though not unkind. “I think you’re one of the few in this world who knows how dangerous that sword can be. And I need it back before it causes irreparable damage.”

John’s mind raced, trying to piece together what little information he had. The Infinite Realms, a missing sword, and now its king standing in front of him, asking for help. This was way above his pay grade, and yet… something in Phantom’s presence, in the way he carried himself with a mix of regal authority and a hint of vulnerability, made John want to help.

Or maybe it was just that damn enchanting aura the ghost was giving off.

“All right,” John finally said, resigned. “I’ll help you track down your fancy sword. But once we find it, you take it and bugger off back to the Realms, got it?”

Phantom inclined his head slightly, a gesture of gratitude. “Agreed.”

Constantine turned, motioning for Phantom to follow. As they walked, John couldn’t help but glance sideways at the ghostly king, admiring the way his armor seemed to shimmer with an inner light, how the green flames of his crown flickered softly. The presence of the Ring of Rage caught John’s attention next, the glowing artifact known for its destructive power. Yet here it was, worn by a being who seemed to hold it with ease, as if it were merely a part of him.

“So,” John said after a moment, trying to keep his tone casual, “how’d you end up with all that fancy gear? That ring, in particular, looks like trouble.”

Phantom glanced at the ring, his expression unreadable. “It was a gift from the previous ruler. It comes with the territory.”

John whistled low. “You must’ve really done a number on old Pariah to earn that.”

Phantom’s gaze turned distant, as if remembering something far away. “It wasn’t easy,” he said quietly, the weight of his words heavy with the memory of that battle. “But it was necessary.”

John nodded, not pushing further. He understood that some battles left scars that were better left unspoken. Instead, he focused on the task at hand, trying to ignore the growing attraction he felt towards the ghostly king. It wasn’t just Phantom’s ethereal beauty—it was the way he carried himself, the way his presence filled the space around him with a mixture of power and calm. It was bloody distracting, to say the least.

“Right then,” John said, snapping himself back to reality. “Let’s find your bloody sword and get you back to your Realms, shall we?”

Phantom smirked, a faint glow of amusement returning to his eyes. “Lead the way, Constantine.”

As they moved deeper into the labyrinthine streets of London, the odd duo—one a jaded occult detective, the other a regal king from another dimension—began their search for the Nightmare Sword. Unbeknownst to John, this encounter with Phantom would change the course of his life, forcing him to confront powers beyond even his own reckoning. But for now, he pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the task at hand, and the enigmatic figure at his side who, for some reason, made him feel more alive than he had in years.

——

john when he’s confronted by a hot inter-dimensional ghost:

[deathofacupid]

thinking about heian!sukuna on the day of his execution. "ryomen sukuna, king of curses, for his unforgivable crimes – sentenced to death." ⤷ trigger-warning: insinuated suicide, execution, grapic-ish/gory-ish details .ᐟ

the words rippled through the city, a wave of jubilation crashing against the stone walls of his prison. his reign of terror was over. japan would breathe again.

heian!sukuna had accepted his fate. it was inevitable. in his cell, enchanted shackles bit into his wrists, cold metal against warm skin. he wasn’t afraid. death was a fleeting inconvenience, a doorway he’d walked through countless times. death should fear him.

boredom gnawed at him, a dull ache in his ancient soul. he tapped his clawed fingers against the iron bars, the sound echoing in the cramped space, a counterpoint to the distant cheers.

the stench of rust, stale blood, and something faintly sweet and decaying clung to the air. it didn’t faze heian!sukuna. a low chuckle rumbled in his chest. pathetic.

then, a flicker of movement. a shadow slipped past the guard. you. clad in a black coat, you were a stark contrast to the grime and decay. as you stepped into the dim light, the coat fell soundlessly to the floor, revealing a soft, pink satin kimono. his favorite color on you.

“oh, ‘kuna,” you whimpered, a hand flying to your mouth.

“butterfly,” heian!sukuna greeted, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. “well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

“don’t laugh,” you choked out, tears streaming down your face. “it’s not funny. they’re going to kill you. my father…”

the irony had always been a bitter amusement to heian!sukuna. you, the daughter of his sworn enemy, the golden ruler, had fallen for the king of curses. you, who should have embodied purity and light.

and in a way, you did. he saw it in the gentle curve of your smile, the way you treated the downtrodden, the way you looked at him – not with fear, but with a tenderness that disarmed him. you saw a man beneath the monster.

heian!sukuna's smirk faded. your tears were his undoing. even the king of curses couldn’t bear to see you cry. he rose, the chains rattling, and moved to the bars. he longed to reach through, to wipe those tears away, to feel the softness of your skin beneath his rough touch.

“don’t cry,” he murmured, his voice softer than he intended.

“i don’t want to leave you,” you sobbed, pressing your face against the cold metal where his hand rested. “you promised… you promised you’d never go where i couldn’t follow.”

heian!sukuna who's chest tightened. you always knew how to make him feel… human. he leaned his forehead against the bars, as close as he could get. “i know,” he whispered. “i knew this day would come.”

“he’s going to make me watch, ‘kuna. how… how can i watch you die?”

a darkness flickered in his eyes, his jaw clenching. losing his life was nothing. but the thought of you witnessing it…

heian!sukuna who took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm. “you must be strong,” he said, his voice low and firm. “even when everything is falling apart… you can’t break. do you understand?”

“i don’t think i can live without you,” you whispered, a plea in your voice.

heian!sukuna who closed his eyes for a moment, a rare vulnerability showing on his face. “live for me, butterfly. please,” he murmured, finally.

please, you think. not a word you hear often from him. but you knew your fate. you would rather die, than live in a world without him. "okay," you say, instead.

“good,” he whispered back, a faint smile touching his lips. “that’s my girl.”

“and we’ll meet again?” you asked, your lips brushing against the cold metal where his would be.

a melancholy smile touched heian!sukuna's lips. “of course. i will find you. every lifetime, every world.” he leaned into the phantom touch of your lips. “you are mine, butterfly. forever.”

the guards dragged you away, your cries echoing in the dungeon. he watched you go, a bitter taste in his mouth.

at the executioner’s block, the sunlight glinted on the blade. your father stood on the platform, his face a mask of cold authority. heian!sukuna stood there, waiting.

then, a murmur from a guard. “my lord… it is your daughter.”

heian!sukuna who's eyes widened. his butterfly? he strained against the chains, his heart pounding in his chest.

your father sighed, then, without a glance at sukuna, said, “kill him.”

the blade fell. the crowd roared.

but heian!sukuna was already gone, his spirit untethered, searching. he would find you. he would spill oceans of blood if he had to.

you were heian!sukuna's butterfly. and he would never let you go.

all banner credits to @dollywons .ᐟ

[theplotmage]

Halloween-themed Fantasy Festival and Unique Events for Worldbuilding:

1. Whispers Eve – A night when the spirits of the lost whisper secrets to the living.

2. Harrowtide – A festival of fear where nightmares walk among the people.

3. Veilfall – The thin barrier between worlds collapses, allowing passage for the dead.

4. Moonshadow Revel – When the moon is dark, shadowy creatures come out to celebrate.

5. Hallowed Lanterns – A night where enchanted lanterns guide the dead home.

6. Soul’s Gate – The gate between the mortal world and the afterlife swings open.

7. Glimmernight – A festival where ghosts appear as shimmering lights.

8. Dreadmasque – A masquerade where each mask hides a dark secret.

9. Reaping Hollow – An event where spirits return to reclaim what they’ve lost.

10. Bloodfire Vigil – Bonfires are lit with blood magic to protect against the undead.

11. Darkmoon Ascendance – A night where the moon turns black and dark magic reigns.

12. Spectral Tide – The dead rise as the tide reaches its highest point.

13. Twilight’s Grasp – The setting sun never fully disappears, keeping the world in twilight where horrors lurk.

14. Night of the Wraiths – Wraiths descend to collect souls and drag them into the underworld.

15. Frostgrave Feast – A feast in the frozen woods where the spirits of winter grant wishes, but at a price.

16. Bonefire Rites – Sacred fires are lit to honor ancestors and keep malevolent spirits at bay.

17. Witch’s Mark – A night when those who bear a witch’s mark gain immense, but temporary, power.

18. Gravemist Rising – The fog from graves rises, filled with whispers and secrets from the dead.

19. Shadowveil Crossing – A ritual where people cross over into the shadow world to commune with spirits.

20. Autumn’s Curse – A festival where the curse of eternal autumn brings creatures of decay to life.

21. Lantern of Souls – A single lantern, said to hold the souls of the departed, guides the lost on Halloween.

22. Phantom’s Requiem – A symphony is played by phantoms, echoing through the realm of the living.

23. Cindershade Festival – Celebrating the power of fire to keep the dark spirits away.

24. Nightmare’s End – A gathering where the most vivid nightmares are summoned and must be conquered.

25. Hallowveil Procession – A grand parade of masked figures representing both life and death.

26. Gloomhaven Masquerade – A ball held in an eerie town where no one knows who is mortal and who is not.

27. Midnight Harvest – A harvest festival under the blood moon where sacrifices are made to dark gods.

28. Ebon Wreath – A wreath of black flowers is hung on every door to protect against roaming spirits.

29. Soulthorn Festival – A thorny forest springs to life, and only those who navigate it can escape the spirits within.

30. Eclipse of Ashes – During a total eclipse, the ashes of the dead rain down, bringing with them cryptic messages.

31. Gravenight Dance – A dance held in a cemetery where ghosts lead the living in one last waltz.

32. Night of the Void – The stars disappear, leaving the world in utter darkness as creatures from the void emerge.

33. Horror’s Ascendant – A festival that celebrates the rise of a forgotten terror that once plagued the world.

34. Tide of the Forsaken – A night when those forsaken by the gods are given one last chance to walk among the living.

35. Mournstar Vigil – A night when the mournful star rises and the dead follow its path back to the mortal realm.

36. Graveshadow Feast – A festival where the living feast with their deceased ancestors.

37. Shroudfall – The shroud between life and death dissolves, allowing creatures of darkness to invade.

38. Hollowlight Procession – Spirits of lost children carry lanterns, leading a parade through the haunted woods.

39. Doomveil Gathering – A gathering of witches and warlocks under a cursed sky to summon forbidden magic.

40. Veilfire Festival – A festival where fire dances upon the veil between worlds, granting glimpses of the afterlife.

41. Ruinwake Revelry – A chaotic festival celebrating destruction and chaos, where dark beings rise from ruin.

42. Blackthorn Masque – A masquerade in a cursed castle where everyone wears masks of thorns.

43. Echoes of Dust – A ceremony where the dust of ancient beings blows through the town, and their voices are heard once more.

44. Ashen Sun – The sun turns ashen, and with it, the spirits of forgotten warriors rise from their graves.

45. Night of Unraveling – A night when the fabric of reality unravels, and the boundary between dimensions fades.

46. Hushmoor Eve – A silent evening where all sound is banned to prevent awakening the slumbering dead.

47. Cryptwatch Festival – Vigilant watch over ancient crypts, where treasure seekers try to unlock the secrets of eternal life.

48. Wraith’s Breath – A chilling wind blows through town, said to be the breath of wraiths hunting for souls.

49. Duskmire Celebration – A festival in a swampy region where creatures of the mire rise to celebrate with the living.

50. Moonless Descent – A night where the moon disappears and the world descends into a temporary abyss, where anything can happen.

[persephoneaangel444]

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Astrological Observations on the Ascendant signs as forms of literature writings ᯓᡣ𐭩

ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩

AIR ASCENDANTS:

Libra --- Aquarius --- Gemini

ᯓᡣ𐭩 LIBRA ASCENDANT ᯓᡣ𐭩 --- "I want my life to be beautiful & wild & filled with things I never imagined, so forgive me if I ignore everything you think is important & just get right to it." --- "I was within and without. Simultaneously enchanted and repelled by inexhaustible variety of life." --- "Barefoot. And with rose petals in her hair" --- "To love and be loved is to feel the sun from both sides" --- "She looked like a cruel immortal, finding her spiritual feast in the agonies of a dying race" ᯓᡣ𐭩 Libra ascendant short Description: --- Libra ascendants have these Bambi/Bunny like features, they always somehow look graceful and ethereal. They know what looks appealing to their features, usually pale/light skin or has Sunkissed skin and beautiful pink lips. They are quite tall or average height, has long arms and long legs and their smile is almost somehow flirtatious and charming.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 AQUARIUS ASCENDANT ᯓᡣ𐭩 --- "She's never where she is. She's only inside her head." --- "I was born for something greater than I was and greater I would become." --- "The Gods envy us. They envy us because we're mortal, because any moment may be our last, everything is more beautiful because we are doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again."' --- "She was the finest arranged stardust I had stumbled across" --- "And men said that the blood of the stars flowed in her veins" ᯓᡣ𐭩 Aquarius ascendant short Description: --- Aquarius ascendants have this airy feel of not a siren but of a fairy, they always seem like they would disappear the moment you lay your eyes on them. There's a certain cruelness to their distance to others and themselves, as if everything is a game of tag. You the chaser and them being chased.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 GEMINI ASCENDANT ᯓᡣ𐭩 --- "I am profoundly enchanted by the flowing complexity of you." --- "You still crave lemonade, but the taste doesn't satisfy you as much as it used to. You still crave summer, but sometimes you mean summer, five years ago." --- "Innocence, once lost can never be regained. Darkness, once gazed upon, can never be lost." ---"A springtime sun-drenched landscape that is childhood." --- "And I, too, am dim to my friends and unknown. a phantom, sometimes seen, often not." ᯓᡣ𐭩 Gemini ascendant short Description: --- Gemini ascendants have conventionally attractive features. Their soul and aura usually shows inconsistencies and contradictories because they feel and see a lot of things. They want to know a lot of things and experience them but they always feel like somethings missing and because of that usually they feel more empty than others.

[rainydayathogwarts]

Think of me - Remus Lupin

ˋ°•*⁀➷ Phantom of the Opera

☆ 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ☆ 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎�� ☆ 𝐌𝐀𝐉𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇 ☆

summary: Sirius has to bring moral support with to come watch your debut as Christine in the Phantom of the Opera. Despite the judgemental pureblooded families around the pair, they are both serenaded by your enchanting singing a/n: this is more of an introductory chapter, the real story begins in the next one!

Sirius had not exercised his skills on being the ‘perfect pureblood’ in just about, well, since he was taught them. However tonight, he hadn’t only gone to the extent of putting them into practise, but he even taught Remus the few rules he could remember, and everything about theatre etiquette.

All to impress you.

His favourite family member, and the only pureblood with perfect reputation he could stand being around.

Walking into the theatre, Sirius knew that he and Remus never looked better: in old, untouched suits Sirius had specifically tailored to fit them perfectly, all to put every other snobby, rich pureblood coming to watch you to shame. He didn’t hide his smirk as he and his best friend walked into the theatre, aware of the heads turning to look at him, long haired, pierced, tattooed, and his best friend, scarred, freckled, a half-blood. Remus nervously fiddled with the end of his blazer, playing with the metal cuff-link, but to outsiders, his scary resting face gave them the impression he was confidently fixing his appearance, judging all those around him.

Sirius patted Remus’s shoulder as they finally reached the front row of seats, and Remus walked in first, though he didn’t have to move far because their seats were front and centre: the best seats in the house.

Courtesy of you, of course, though the wealthy families around the two men didn’t need to know that. “I could get used to this.” Sirius whispered to Remus, spreading his legs slightly and looking around him. He gaze caught on a curly-haired boy to his right. His younger brother, who nodded curtly to him when their eyes met. Regulus was sat with your parents a couple rows back; clearly you hadn't offered them any free tickets. The older couple was engaged in an enthusiastically fake conversation with another couple, but their rich laughs reached Sirius’s ears, and he shuddered, turning to face the front again.

The last bell rang in the theatre, signalling any wanderers to finally make their way to their seats. Remus’s gaze was drawn down to the orchestra below them, hidden by a railing above the pit. As the lights died down and the orchestra began playing the overture, Remus turned his line of sight to the empty stage. Remus wasn’t a theatre connoisseur. Unlike these wealthy pureblooded families surrounding him, he had only been to a community theatre once when he snuck out of the orphanage with the few friends he had to watch a local production of Matilda. But now, as the live music flooded his veins and the actors started appearing on stage, he decided he liked the rich culture of theatres in the wizarding world.

Remus barely understood the start of the show, but the second he spotted you across the stage — with unmistakable features that belonged to an entire bloodline of Blacks, but so undeniably you — he was taken.

From everything Remus had learned from your parents, he always hated them, but he couldn’t help but agree with them on the fact that you had more than just links to the most powerful wizards in the industry. You had talent. No wonder they had sent you to beauxbatons, where your full potential as a performer could be reached. Your voice was melodic, angelic, serenading even.

So when the show ended and you smiled so widely through your first bows in your run as the lead in the Phantom of The Opera, Remus silently promised you that he would think of you, think of you fondly when you’ll part ways tonight. He’ll remember you once in a while, or perhaps even more than that, because it will be impossible to get your enchanting cadence out of his mind.

taglist: @rory-cakes, @boromoony, @stta-princess, @arielthee-potterhead, @lettertovera

@ravisinghs-wife, @amatoanima, @starry-remus, @pain-in-the-ashe, @hiireadstuff, @superlegend216, @treefairy-28, @superlegend216, @kitkatkl, @juliet-017,

[emotionalmotionsicknessxx]

Immersive Phantom is LND truthers??????? (NOT Clickbait!1!!!)

How did I not post about this WOOPS we got CONEY ISLAND we got HORSE GIRL RIK CONFirmed we got subway mention we got....LND foreshadowing. I love imagining rik reading the paper and making his Plan Z for when things go south what on earth...

transcription below:

CONEY ISLAND: THE ENCHANTED SHORE OF AMERICAN AMUSEMENT

Far across the Atlantic, on the shores of the great city of New York, there lies a place of singular enchantment -- a domain where the summer thrones seek refuse from the oppressive heat from the American metropolis, and where the night is set aglow with electric marvels. This place, known as Coney Island, is swiftly becoming the most celebrated amusement destination in the New World, rivaling even the grand boulevards and pleasure gardens of our own Paris.

Once a quiet seaside retreat, Coney Island has, in but a few short years, transformed into a spectacle of invention and delight. It's grand hotels welcome visitors of every rank, from the industrious merchant to the society dame seeking diversion. The air is filled with the laughter of children and the strains of lively music, while the scene of the ocean mingles with the tantalizing aromas of delicacies sold along its promenades.

Foremost among its entertainments is a carousel, splendid work of craftsmanship created by the Danish artisan Charles Looff, whose hand-carved wooden horses gallop in a never-ending whirl of color and light. This ingenious contraption, though perhaps modest in comparison to our own Parisian fetes, has captured the American imagination, offering an exhilarating escape from the burdens of daily life. Not content with a single such machine, Monsieur Looff has recently provided a second carousel for a grand establishment known as Feltman's Ocean Pavilion, where revelers partake of fine refreshments beside the sea.

Yet the wonders do not cease there. Coney Island boasts an aquarium, where exotic marine creatures may be observed alongside aviaries of brilliant plumed birds and a menagerie of wild beasts -- a true spectacle of nature's diversity, bringing together the mysteries of the deep with the curiosities of distant lands. And soon, as we are informed, this lively retreat will be further enriched by fireworks and musical performaners, spectacles that promise to dazzle all who venture there.

Perhaps most astonishing is the spirit of the place: an amusement park not merely for the elite but for all classes. The rapid expansion of the Brooklyn Rapid Transit Company has brought swift and convenient conveyance to the island, opening its gates to the working families of New York, who arrive in great numbers to taste the joys of leisure. This blending of society in the persuit of mirth and wonder is, indeed, a spectacle of itself -- one that speaks to the changing face of modern amusement.

Shall we soon see a Coney Island of our own, here in France? Perhaps. But for now, this extraordinary corner of the American world stands as a testament to the ingenuity and ambition of our transatlantic neighbors -- an experiment in pleasure and spectacle that shall no doubt leave its mark on the century to come.

[ivys-garden]

More Minecraft ideas, what part of Minecraft needs improvement?

You're wrong, it's ponds.

Ponds, lakes, lava pools. They all suck in Minecraft, they end up just being big holes in the ground with nothing interesting about them that make the landscape ugly and hole ridden

Now you might say “Ivy, literally no one cares” and to that I say, wheesht and accept my ramblings ya donut

So, how do we fix Ponds? It's simply really: make ponds generated structures.

Ponds would now be generated structures taking up one chunk, with an actual human made design to make them, you know, look good. There would be, say, 100 or so different designs to stop them looking to samey (they'd be so small that something like that would be feasible)

Lakes would be done similarly, only with the key difference, they would be made up of 4 chunk “cells”, each making up a corner of the lake.

ponds and lakes in plains or forest biomes would be made of blocks like mud and dirt.

Ponds and lakes in deserts (or oases if you want) would be made up of grass and sand

Ponds and lakes in tundras would be frozen over on the top layer of the water and with clay spawning around the water

Now, let's see some things that can be found in ponds and lakes:

Frogs

Nothing new here, frogs and frogspawn are most common ponds, pond frogs also only come in the green frog varietie.

Perhaps the oasis can have a desert rain frog variant that gives a purple frog light

Toads

Toads and toad spawn can be found in lakes and ponds in forest and plains biomes. Toads emerge from toad spawn in the same way frogs do. Toads have an exaggerated size, being double the size of the frog

Toads come in several colours (Green, Brown, Yellow, Orange and Lime) but these colours do not harbour any game mechanics (in other words: sorry but there are no toadlights)

Toads will eat all mobs with wings, that being the Parrot, Chicken, Phantom, Bat, Bee and the player if they are wearing an elytra, so watch out.

All the aforementioned mobs are scared of Toads, making them and effective deterrent to phantoms in particular

Cattails, Reeds, Rice, Algae and Papyrus

I'll just do all the plant life stuff at once (these will generate dependent on the pond or lake cell)

Algae is a new decorative blocks that can be placed on water

It will connect to other blocks, creating an unbroken surface across the water

Algae has a bright green hue and can be found in both ponds and lakes with the same frequency

Papyrus is a new plant that spawns naturally in the oasis, it is used as a more efficient way of making paper as it can be bonemealed and only one papyrus is needed to make paper

Rice is a plant that grows in water in lakes and ponds spawning in cherry groves.

Rice can be used in two recipes:

Rice Bowls:Putting rice, a bowl and any meat together will craft a rice bowl

This food source that can be eaten twice, eating the meat and then the rice

Sushi: putting rice, dried kelp and one fish into a crafting table creates Sushi, a foodsoarch that can be eaten instantly without playing the eating animation, not very nutritious but good in a pinch

Cattails are a purely decorative plant found in ponds and swamps

Reeds are more common around rivers and lakes, being a fern like plant that grows two tall.

Reeds can be used to craft a new item: Pan Pipes

Combining 3 reeds and 3 string will create pan pipes, these can be played to draw passive mobs towards you so long as the button to play them is held down.

Pan Pipes can also calm neutral mobs like wolves, iron golems and bees, but doing this instantly focus the Pan pipes into cool down

Pan pipes have a cool down double that of the Goat Horn

Bagpipes

By putting Pan Pipes, 3 iron nuggets, 3 red wool and 3 green wool together you can make Bagpipes.

Bagpipes have durability on top of having the same level of cool down as Pan Pipes. Bagpipes cannot be enchanted.

Bagpipes have the ability to PERMANENTLY pacify all hostile mobs in the chunk the player is in.

Bagpipes will break after 10 or so uses

Willow and Palm

Willow and palm are new wood types, Willow spawns around lakes and ponds and Palm spawns around oases.

Willow has a dark Bluish-green colour, complementing mangrove, where as Palm is a desaturated pale white

(These will generate depending on the pond or lake cell)

(Part 1/3)

[n1ght0f-nyx]

Phantom's Adoration

erik deslter x reader- 538 words

tags- kinda angst mostly fluff, stalking, low-key submissive erik (even though this isn't smut) cause thats the truth :) canon true stalking/yandere themes

In the grand opera house of Paris, shadows danced and whispered secrets of love and tragedy. Among them lurked Erik Destler, the Phantom of the Opera, a figure veiled in darkness and mystery. From the depths of his hidden lair, he watched the world above with a heart heavy with longing, knowing that his disfigured face would forever keep him hidden from the light.

Yet amidst the bustling theater, there was one soul who captured his attention like no other – you. You, with your graceful movements and enchanting voice, seemed to float through the corridors like a melody, filling his solitary existence with warmth and light.

From the shadows, Erik watched you rehearse, your every step and note igniting a fire within him. He listened to the passion in your voice, feeling his own heart swell with a love he knew could never be. For how could someone as wondrous as you ever look upon him with anything but fear and disgust?

But still, he couldn't help but dream. Dream of a world where he could stand beside you in the brilliance of the stage, where he could hold you close and whisper his love into the night. In his mind, he spun tales of romance and redemption, where even the darkest of souls could find solace in the arms of an angel.

Yet reality was a cruel mistress, and Erik knew that his fantasies could never come to pass. So he remained hidden, content to watch from afar, knowing that the shadows were his only refuge.

As the days turned into weeks, Erik's love for you only grew stronger, his every thought consumed by the image of your radiant smile. He longed to reach out to you, to confess the depths of his affection, but he feared the rejection that would surely follow.

And so he remained silent, resigned to his fate as the Phantom of the Opera, forever condemned to love from the shadows.

But fate, it seemed, had other plans.

One fateful night, as the opera house lay shrouded in darkness, you wandered into Erik's domain, a curious light in your eyes. Startled, he watched as you explored the cavernous halls, your laughter echoing off the stone walls.

In that moment, Erik knew that he could no longer hide. Stepping out from the shadows, he revealed himself to you, his heart pounding with fear and anticipation.

You gasped at the sight of him, but to his surprise, there was no trace of fear in your eyes, only curiosity and perhaps a hint of something more.

"I have watched you from afar, my dear," he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath. "And though I am but a man in truth, i can assure you my love for you burns brighter than any angels could."

Tears welled in his eyes as i reached out to him, my fingers trembling as they brushed against his teary cheek.

"you're...," i started softly, my voice a gentle melody in the darkness. "You’re…my angel of music?"

In that moment, Erik knew that his love for you was not in vain. For even in the darkest of places, there exists a glimmer of hope – a chance for redemption, you. 

[darkfluffydragon]

Phantasmagoria Short: Regular Week

Trigger Warnings: Blood/jam, mind control, Phantas

The moon hung high in the velvet sky, its silvery glow spilling through tall arched windows and illuminating the marble hallways in a serene, haunting light. The air was cool and still, steeped in quiet. Pure Vanilla walked carefully, his steps making almost no sound against the polished floors. His mind drifted in a pleasant haze, thoughts scattered like dandelion seeds on the wind. Contentment rested heavily in his chest.

He had been cleaning the grand chambers earlier. Dusting forgotten bookshelves, smoothing out impossibly soft blankets, and rearranging strange, elegant ornaments whose purposes still eluded him. His hands worked with practiced precision, driven by a deeply ingrained routine he didn’t recall learning but followed without question.

When the time came, he prepared a meal. The kitchen was a maze of dark stone counters and brass fixtures, its only illumination the soft glow of enchanted lanterns. He cooked methodically, savoring the familiar rhythm: chopping, stirring, plating. The scents of roasted herbs and sweet jelly filled the air.

He served the meals in the grand dining hall, where shadows were cast across towering columns and rich, midnight-blue tapestries embroidered with swirling silver threads. Shadow Milk was already seated at the far end of the long table, clad in his elaborate blue jester-like attire. His smile was twisted, his eyes aglow with an odd amusement.

Pure Vanilla set the plates before him, bowing low. He straightened—

Darkness.

…

Pain struck like a falling axe. His head felt as though it were splitting open, molten iron searing through his skull. He staggered, clutching his temples, breath coming in ragged gasps. A voice, familiar, alien, howled within his mind.

‘Remember! Remember! You have to remember!’ It screamed, desperation clawed at his consciousness like agonising rusted nails.

When his staff’s eyes snapped open again, he was standing upright. The dining hall was silent once more. Shadow Milk was still seated at the same spot, watching him. The plates before them were empty, practically licked clean. Pure Vanilla’s tongue tingled with an aftertaste he couldn’t place, a phantom sensation that filled him with sickening unease.

Shadow Milk tilted his head, gaze sharp, and dismissed him with a flick of his hand.

No words were spoken between them.

Numb, Pure Vanilla turned and walked from the room, each step heavier than the last. The pain in his head pulsed, a writhing, crawling sensation burrowing into his thoughts like squirming worms. His heart throbbed with something raw, something wrong, though he couldn’t grasp what it was. He didn’t dare look back.

The moment Pure Vanilla Cookie stepped out of the grand dining hall, the strength in his legs gave out. He stumbled forward, collapsing against the cold wall with a dull thud. His trembling hand shot up to his mouth just as a thick wave of scarlet jam spilled past his lips, staining his pristine robe.

He coughed violently, each convulsion ripping through his body like jagged claws. The metallic taste of jam coated his tongue, searing his throat with its sickly sweetness. His chest heaved as he struggled for air, the pain twisting inside him like living things writhing beneath his dough. He felt as though he was being hollowed out from the inside, as though something had ripped and torn his very soul apart.

Footsteps echoed softly down the corridor. He barely registered them through the haze of agony.

“Your Majesty.”

The voice was calm but laced with unmistakable concern. Pure Vanilla Cookie’s eyes snapped upward, wide and unfocused, meeting the emerald gaze of Wind Archer Cookie. His bow was slung across his back, though his hands hovered near it instinctively, as though ready to defend.

Pure Vanilla’s breath hitched at the title, something flickering in his mind—‘Your Majesty…?’—but the thought was lost almost as quickly as it came, drowned in the sea of burning pain and crawling nausea.

“I… I’m all right,” he whispered hoarsely, barely hearing his own voice over the pounding in his head. “I’ve… experienced this… many times before… in my years of service to Shadow Milk Cookie.”

The name left his lips like a confession, tinged with both respect and something much like resignation. His head throbbed violently, forcing him to bite back another wave of coughing. He pressed his trembling hand harder against his stained mouth, as though he could hold the rest of the scarlet jam inside.

Before Wind Archer Cookie could respond, Pure Vanilla turned and walked away, his steps uneven but determined. He didn’t dare meet the knight’s gaze again, couldn’t bear to see what might be reflected there…pity, suspicion, fear…

He didn’t see the deepening frown on Wind Archer’s face, nor the way his hand clenched tightly around the grip of his bow.

The cold hallway stretched endlessly before Pure Vanilla, its moonlit silence pressing down on him like a suffocating shroud. The crawling, burning sensation still writhed beneath his skin, and somewhere, deep within his fractured mind, something remembered. Something cried.

But he kept on walking.

The days bled together in a haze of quiet servitude.

Pure Vanilla Cookie moved through the grand halls of the castle like a restless specter, performing his duties with wordless precision. He swept vast rooms filled with cold, empty chairs, polished enchanted mirrors that never reflected his true face, and prepared meals he never remembered tasting.

His mind was wrapped in a soothing fog that dulled the edges of reality. The crawling ache in his chest never fully faded, but he learned to ignore it, as he did the lingering taste of jam.

And so a week passed, each day a seamless repetition. It was a carefully choreographed play where Pure Vanilla Cookie knew only his role as a servant. He existed only to obey.

Until the summons came.

His heart thudded faintly in his chest, though he couldn’t quite grasp why. He simply lowered his head, hands folded neatly before him, and stepped through the great double doors. They reminded him of the jaws of a great beast, waiting to swallow him whole.

At the far end of the hall sat Shadow Milk Cookie, draped across the silver throne in a far too comfortable way and his mouth curled into that ever-knowing grin.

“Come closer,” Shadow Milk laughed, words honeyed with amusement and a teasing tone.

Pure Vanilla obeyed without question, steps slow but steady, until he stood at the foot of the throne. His head remained bowed.

Shadow Milk Cookie rose fluidly from the throne and reached into the shadows at his side. From the darkness, he drew forth a crown. It gleamed gold, with twisted, curved points wickedly sharp like horns.

Without a word, he held his arms out and let it fall.

The crown struck Pure Vanilla’s head with a clang. Its jagged edges bit into his dough. His knees buckled as enchantment shattered like glass, unravelling his thoughts while shards of forgotten memories cut deep into his mind.

He remembered.

A throne of light, radiant and warm. A kingdom built on hope and kindness. The weight of responsibility and love, burdens he had carried willingly. Friends who stood beside him. A war. Betrayal. A silver tree, cut by his own hands.

His breath hitched, agony tearing through his chest. He collapsed to the cold marble floor, trembling. His hands clawed at the ground, trying to steady himself against the flood of memories pouring back with relentless force.

“I…” His voice cracked, hoarse and disbelieving. “I was… a king…”

Shadow Milk Cookie loomed over him, smile widening into something cruelly triumphant. He crouched down, tilting his chin up with a gloved finger, his gaze burning with cold delight.

“Yes,” Shadow Milk cackled, “You were.”

Pure Vanilla’s vision dimmed, exhaustion dragging his thoughts back into the pleasant haze.

“…This…this game of yours.” He mumbled, slowly pulling the parts of himself back together. “…How very cruel…”

“But it was fun~”

He did not have the energy to respond.

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

🖤 The Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) was signed into law on July 26, 1990. To commemorate the occasion, we celebrate Disability Pride Month each July. Disability Pride celebrates people with disabilities for who they are, as they are—no exceptions. To shine a light on the stories, voices, and experiences of disabled persons, here are a few beautiful, illuminating stories for #DisabilityPrideMonth.

[ List below. ]

💚 The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet ❤️ The Education of Pip 🤍 Get a Life, Chloe Brown 💛 Love From A to Z 💙 Only and Forever 🖤 On the Bright Side

💚 Into the Drowning Deep ❤️ Dragonfall 🤍 Cemetery Boys 💛 To Shape a Dragon's Breath 💙 Before the Devil Knows You're Here 🖤 Silver Under Nightfall

💚 Kinship and Kindness ❤️ A Power Unbound 🤍 Kit & Basie 💛 Key Lime Sky 💙 Fella Enchanted 🖤 Venom & Vow

💚 Fae's Freedom ❤️ Out on a Limb 🤍 A Taste of Gold Iron 💛 The Last Sun 💙 The Unwanted Prophet 🖤 Iron Widow

💚 The Spirit Bares Its Teeth ❤️ Stars in Their Eyes 🤍 At First Spite 💛 Phantom & Rook 💙 A Lady for a Duke 🖤 Don't Be a Drag

💚 Icarus - K. Ancrum ❤️ Cosmoknights 🤍 Nimona 💛 The Gentleman's Guide to Vice 💙 Paige Not Found 🖤 Tears in the Water

💚 The Secret Summer Promise ❤️ Love Letters for Joy 🤍 The Luis Ortega Survival Club 💛 The Year My Life Went Down the Toilet 💙 Will on the Inside 🖤 When the Angels Left the Old Country

💚 Disability Visibility ❤️ Run 🤍 We Are Never Meeting in Real Life 💛 Unbroken: 13 Stories Starring Disabled Teens 💙 Sitting Pretty: The View From My Ordinary 🖤 The Pretty One

💚 Diary of a Young Naturalist ❤️ The Degenerates 🤍 Meet Me in Outer Space 💛 The Silence Between Us 💙 Haben: The Deafblind Woman Who Conquered Harvard Law 🖤 Cursed

💚 Care Work: Dreaming Disability Justice ❤️ Your Hearts, Your Scars 🤍 Disfigured: On Fairy Tales, Disability, and Making Space 💛 The Collected Schizophrenias 💙 Say Hello 🖤 My Body and Other Crumbling Empires

💚 Mean Baby ❤️ True Biz 🤍 We've Got This 💛 Losing Music 💙 Easy Beauty 🖤 Life on Delay

💚 Crop Kinship ❤️ Demystifying Disability 🤍 El Deafo 💛 Hummingbird - Natalie Lloyd 💙 Show Me a Sign 🖤 The Chance to Fly

💚 Insignificant Events in the Life of a Cactus ❤️ One for All 🤍 You, Me, and Our Heartstring 💛 All the Right Reasons 💙 The Bone Houses 🖤 Fearlessly Different

[lucky-stick]

minecraft fox facts 🦊

(never saw myself as fiction kin but this also might be a fixtype too soooo and it doesnt have alll the info on it so ignore that i might also do a wolf one)

basic info:

behaviour: passive

spawn: 1-3

location: grove, (snowy) taiga,

breeding: berrys

behaviour:

day:

they will find a area, usually under a tree, which is shaded (under a block) and sleep. they will run away if a wolf, polar bear or an un-crouching player, unless trusted, and find a new spot.

night:

they will occasionally make a screech noise unless with a trusted player. baby foxes will follow adults. they will run away from wolves and polar bears still but wont attack back.

they attack chickens, rabbits, cod, salmon, tropical fish and baby turtles. they attack by running or pouncing, they can jump higher than 1 block (1-5), they prepare by tilting their head and lowering body and wiggle then jumps 2 blocks into the air. if there is a stage 3-4 berry bush around they will harvest it themselves.

"taming" (trust)

you cant really tame them but you can get them to trust you and they will have the same qualities as a tamed wolf. you will have to acquire a baby fox either by finding on alone or breeding two and "kidnapping" the baby with a leash, when its grown up it will be "tamed".

sleeping:

they are some of the few animals that can sleep in the game.

during the day they sleep under a light level of 14 or less. if a thunderstorm is occurring they will not sleep. if the light level becomes 15 or above it will wake up.

they will sit if they cannot find a place to sleep during the day.

items:

if any item is near a fox they will approach it and pick it up.

facts:

- if a fox is holding totem of undying they will get the same effects and will disappear after its used (just like a player would)

- they will always prefer berries over any item

- and food over any non food item

- they can jump over fences and walls

- if they are holding a weapon their attack will be affected by them

- same if the weapon has enchantments

- they will get stuck in snow if they pounce

- they wont sleep in thunderstorms

- red foxes like land creatures like chickens and rabbits while arctic foxes like water creatures like cod and salmon

- you can approach them by sneaking

- they can pick up items when they sleep

- they will sleep around players the trust while not sneaking

- and will sleep on a leash of a trusting player

- they dont sleep if they are in 12 blocks of an amour stand

- if the fox eats stew or soup a bowl will be dropped

- they are the only mob that dont get hurt by berry bushes

- foxes cant pick up items if mob griefing is false

- when they attack phantoms they dont jump

[daenerystargaryensgirlfriend]

starklings minecraft shared world AU where you have on one side sansa and robb having personalized players design (sansa having a princess design with a pink/light blue dress and robb just having a normal everyday outfit but with his hair and eye colour) and on the other side jon with his default steve design and arya with the alex one because she likes the outfit better.

they had to build a giant and wall protected base (with torches everywhere) because they play in difficult mode and sansa refuses to wear armor everytime because she likes her character without and her main occupation is building and agriculture. she hates creepers because they make holes in the soil and don't give enough resources to fill them.

then there is robb who always sticks to jon and arya if he wants to mine because they have more experience with the difficult mode (they often try to beat the speedgaming record in diff mode), he's the only one with the diamond armor and sword because he died too much with the silver one, he finds a lot of minerals but gives all the stuff to jon because he's the one that never dies. robb also helps sansa building sometime but mostly he deals with the animals because sansa hates to kill them (expecially the sheeps). he hates skeletons and witches.

arya only wears enchanted gold armor because she wants it to last long, she always follows jon around when he mines but she never takes anything because she only goes to kill mobs, she tried to slay the warren but got in a fight with sansa because it destroyed a new construction she was trying to do. she likes the nether because she's (somehow) always the first to reach the fortress. she loves to watch endermens in the eyes and then going into the water to get them mad and hates witches and baby zombies.

lastly there's jon, he absolutely hates building (sansa, robb and arya did all the work) but even though he always says he doesn't like wasting materials he secretly takes screenshots of the base sometime. he's the one that enchantes everything because he only died once since they started playing, not because he's particularly good at killing mobs but because he always finds a way to escape them. he ALWAYS gets screamed at because he doesn't want to sleep at night (he thinks it's a waste of time). he absolutely hates phantoms and villagers because they are too pricey. he has one horse and one dog (obviously named after ghost) and asks sansa to feed them daily (since he's always away).

both jon and arya were introduced to the game by robb but he stopped playing much so they both got better than him. sansa started playing after seeing the cherry biome when arya reposted it on her snapchat private stories and it's now her second most played game after thesims4.

they usually don't play with the youngers but they recently started playing with bran sometimes, except he still isn't very good so he mostly follows robb around.

they also have spare rooms in the base for jeyne poole and gendry because they played together once or twice. theon also has his own room but he doesn't play much because he's not good in diff mode (him and robb actually have a private server in normal mode).

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Lights Go Out I Wake Up

König is my sweet little baby and I love him dearly. Enjoy some more Phantom of the Opera!König as he watches reader. He's a bit creepy, but he's also my little creepy baby. Also, this story has a very different interpretation of Carlotta. I thought it might be nice to have women supporting women this time. Or well, one woman being a support. Anna, who you have yet to meet, is not so nice at all.

Also, König learns he has competition! He's not too happy about that.

Anyways,

No Content Warnings

Wordcount: 2.4k

Art from This Post

Story below the cut

Lights Go Out I Wake Up

You looked up in the balconies of the opera house expectantly. You tried to see if he was there. Maybe, if you were lucky, you might see a flap of his cape or a glimpse of the crimson ribbons of his mask. You desperately searched but, as always, it was to no avail.

You turned back to the stage where the primadonna was on center stage. She flicked her long blond tresses over her shoulder as she reached out to the audience, serenading them with her warbling soprano voice. You were drawn into the siren’s song, listening to each staccato note followed by a sweeping drop, each rise and fall of her tone as she sang out the tune to The Magic Flute. She attacked, she defended, she swooped and she swelled with the song as she traversed across the stage.

You smiled softly. You would never be like Carlotta, not in a thousand years. She was leagues above anyone in the house, hands down. Men traveled halfway across the world to bear witness to her voice and her visage. By the final notes of the song, the stage had been outlined with a row of roses, each bouquet from a different suitor fighting for her hand. Carlotta’s voice masterfully lulled each one of them into an enchanted hypnotic state. You followed her movements, trying your best to memorize each and every single flick of her fingers or swoop of her wine red dress as she sang out to the crowds. In that moment, Carlotta had placed the dagger in your hands and sang to you of rage, hatred, scorn. You, Pamina, watched as your mother told you her plans and urged you to slay the sorcerer. You watched her, her passion and beauty overwhelming as she came to a crescendo of the song, the make-or-break of the piece, the part that broke many a singer’s voice before.

Carlotta’s face was clear and relaxed as she hit the high notes, a beautiful crystal clear attack, receding briefly only to sharply hit it again and again before swaying onwards. One of the most brilliantly technical pieces of opera written for a soprano, and yet Carlotta seemed to be floating as she swept across the stage. She was above it all as she magically twisted the song to her delight.

As always, you were floored.

Carlotta was the greatest opera singer to ever come from the British Isles. At least, that was your opinion. The true beauty of Carlotta though was not her voice, nor was it her impeccable diamond-cut beauty. The beauty of Carlotta was her loving eye. She looked into the crowd and you could see her love for them in every smile she gave them. She was the queen of the stage and you would never dare to steal her title. As always, she looked at home here, presented for thousands to admire. She was the songbird of the Vienna State Opera, but this building was her cage.

When she had finished, she left the stage with tears in her eyes. You immediately took her in her arms and hushed her.

“I don’t want it to be over,” she sniffed as she held you tight.

“We’ll still keep in touch,” you assured her.

“We both know it’s not the same,” she held you tightly, then released you back to the darkness of the workshop.

“We can message each other online,” you tried to explain but she wasn’t having it.

“I won’t be able to teach you anymore,” she bemoaned, “and you won’t have anyone to help you with Anna.”

“I don’t need help with Anna,” you huffed.

Carlotta gave you a look, “Darling, we both know that’s a lie.”

You frowned, but followed her back to the dressing rooms. You flipped on a single light, keeping the room only barely lit enough to be able to see yourself in the mirror. Meanwhile, Carlotta sat at her vanity and flicked on the lights to get a better look at her own beauty. You watched her slowly wipe off the theatre makeup while she sat at her vanity. She drummed her fingers on her cheeks in a light massage as she cooled down from the performance.

“So, do you know what you’ll do when you get home?” you leaned on the wall beside the vanity.

“Go to my parents probably,” Carlotta said as she put a dab of skin lotion on her fingers, “they’ve missed me. I’ve missed this little cafe in London that makes the best butter tarts. I just hope they’re still open…”

“If they make the best butter tarts, why wouldn’t they be?” you asked.

“Everything goes too fast in London. One day you see a new hat shop, the next day it’s a tourist trap. There’s never a dry day in London!” Carlotta gave you a quick grin before dabbing at her temples again, “and I miss it. Vienna is nice, but it’s not home.”

“I thought you said Madrid was your home,” you pointed out.

“I was born in Madrid but I was raised in London,” Carlotta explained, “I moved there when I was eight. I only visited Spain when going to see my family, but other than that I was at home in London.”

“You know, you’re the only English woman I’ve ever heard be nostalgic about London,” you mused, “everybody else calls it a tar pit.”

“Oh it’s a tar pit alright,” Carlotta laughed, “but it’s my tar pit.”

You smiled as she went through the rest of her routine, unwinding her hair from its high knot and gently sloughing the great billowing red dress to change into a sleek pair of leggings and a turtleneck. She tossed her blond hair over her shoulders, casting you a sad look as she watched you take off your own clothes.

“I don’t have much longer to teach you,” she sighed.

“Well, it’s not like I need the teaching,” you pointed out, “I’m not your protege. I’m just a backup singer.”

“But you have the voice for a lead,” Carlotta countered, “you have it! Oh stop laughing, I’m serious! You can do it! Anna can do it, but she’s not a natural. You are.”

“I can’t handle that much pressure,” you sighed.

“But you can!” Carlotta sighed, “I just… I wish I could take you home with me. I could train you, give you a position at the RBO, we could do it! You could be a star!”

You shook your head sadly, “I’m not a star though. I’m lucky I even got my parts here.”

Carlotta clenched her lily-white fists in her lap. Her big wide eyes narrowed into feline slits. She looked angry, frustrated, but most of all, disappointed as she whispered, “You don’t know what you’re throwing away, do you?”

“I just think it's best if I stick to my own lane,” you sighed.

Carlotta’s eyes never left you as she pursed her cherry red lips. In the dim light, she looked like a perfect angel, much like the ones painted above. She clenched her hands together, then let them relax with a sigh.

“You’ll keep up your lessons with me?” she asked hopefully.

You nodded and sat on a nearby stool, “Of course. I love your lessons.”

Carlotta smiled thinly, “I love them too.”

You watched as she slipped her necklace back over her swan neck. The bright glint of ruby reminded you of the stage curtains she wrapped herself in. You couldn’t imagine Carlotta as anything other than a singer. She was born for the stage, after all. Her entire childhood had been preparing her for the opera house, following in the footsteps of her mother and her mother before her.

How you wished you could follow in her footsteps.

“I’m gonna miss you, you know,” you sighed.

“I’m going to miss my best student,” Carlotta gave you a sombre smile.

“We’ll keep in touch, right?”

Carlotta flashed her award-winning smile, “I have all your socials; I’m not letting you get away from me that easily!”

You chuckled as you walked around the room, searching for a small brown box.

Carlotta got up to peek over your shoulder to admire the empty wrappers tucked under your shawl.

“Well,” she crowed, “looks like tubby got his treat after all!”

“Tubby?” you scoffed, “the phantom isn’t fat!”

“Well that’s what everybody else says,” Carlotta pointed out,” and if he’s eating candies and chocolates all day long then he’s bound to be… Well, you know… Tubby.”

“I’m telling you,” you rolled your eyes, “when I saw him he was skinny as a rake.”

“As a rake?” Carlotta raised a perfect eyebrow, “not a tractor mower?”

“No he’s skinny! Honestly, I should probably put out something a bit more substantial for him…” you muttered.

“Oh you’re going to go and make the phantom home cooked meals now, are you?” Carlotta smirked.

You huffed as a blush crossed your cheeks, “Well, maybe it would be nice.”

Carlotta hummed as she watched you go dispose of the wrappers. When you sat back down, she gave you a sagely nod.

“Well, if you get this phantom on a diet maybe he won’t be so afraid to show himself,” Carlotta shrugged, “who knows, maybe you could introduce us. You do seem to be his favourite.”

“Me?” you twittered awkwardly, “I don’t know about that…”

“Oh I know!” Carlotta laughed, “whenever you’re on stage the reviews are all five stars! I think the reason you’re being cast so often is that the managers are noticing how well we do when you’re on stage!”

You huffed, “You’re saying it’s not my skills as a performer drawing in the reviews?”

Carlotta bristled, “No I’m not saying that!” she relaxed as she took your hand in hers, “I’m saying that the phantom has a liking for you. I love you, but one particularly good background singer isn’t going to turn the tides of an entire production. You don’t ensure that lights magically keep working. Hell, one lead girl, Hannah I think (but you’d have to check), her mic went out halfway through a performance. Not a single person noticed until they were doing audio checks after the performance! It was incredible!”

“Wait, you’re talking about the time we did Faust, right?” you asked.

“Yes that’s the one!” Carlotta grinned, “I’m telling you that something’s special about you when you’re on stage. Everybody else says you’re a lucky charm, but I think that a certain someone is watching over you.”

You looked away to try and hide your flushed face, “Well, maybe. But if he really liked me, wouldn’t he maybe introduce himself? I only saw him once…”

“I’m telling you,” Carlotta said primly, “he’s afraid you’ll think he’s fat! Either that or he’s an actual ghost, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

“I thought Henry was the ghost hunter around here?” you elbowed her lightly.

“What I said stays between us!” Carlotta warned you.

“Sure,” you smirked, “whatever you say.”

“You know, you should show more respect for your teacher,” Carlotta sniffed.

“I thought you were Anna’s teacher?” you pointed out.

Carlotta groaned and rubbed her temples irritably, “Well she’s no star either. If it weren’t part of my contract here I would’ve dropped her ages ago. She’s…”

“She’s something else,” you supplied.

“Oh she sure is…” Carlotta grumbled as she leaned her elbows onto the vanity, “at least I get one decent student out of this contract.”

You smiled, “I try to be.”

Carlotta turned to face you again with a ghost of a smile, “You are.”

You chatted easily in the dressing room, swapping stories of theatre hijinks and arguing over the stature of the phantom of the opera late into the night. As you left for the night, you wondered once again if you had actually seen the phantom so long ago. Was it really true? Did you actually see the phantom, or was that just another performer? You suspected you’d never know for sure. You just hoped that you’d actually seen the whole event. You’d started to wonder if you were hallucinating the entire time.

You shut the door and locked it as you left.

Inside the room, König drifted from the corner of the dark room to your vanity. He heard voices coming from the alley behind him. Carefully, he used a nail he’d stolen earlier to tack a small letter to the corner of your mirror before ducking behind a panel in the wall. He noted that the gap was terribly small, far too small for a ‘tubby’ man to fit through. If that Carlotta wasn’t such a good teacher, well… König shook his head of the thoughts. As long as Carlotta was good to you, he’d be sure to watch over her too. His personal offence could wait another day if it meant ensuring you’d be safe in the opera house. He could be the ‘enormously fat rat’ as long as he could continue to watch your performances.

He hid behind the wall as the next group of singers swanned through the door. He listened to them titter about, laughing and giggling after such a successful showing. He heard a small gasp, and listened close.

“Look at that!” a girl said aloud.

“Look at what?” another asked.

“On the Songbird’s vanity! There’s a note!”

“Should we take a look?”

König bristled.

“No, no we shouldn’t. Let’s just ask her about it later.”

“Do you think it’s a lover?”

A scoff.

“I don’t think so. She’s not exactly a lovable sort.”

König rolled his eyes.

“Well, maybe. There’s that one guy who’s always asking about her.”

“Oh, that Makarov guy?”

That got König’s attention.

“Yeah, the russian guy. He’s always watching Songbird, you know? I’ve heard he only gets tickets when Songbird’ll be on stage.”

“You think he got backstage to pin a note for her?”

“Maybe, or he might’ve given it to a stagehand to do it for him. Either way, it’s so romantic!”

“Well, if it’s really Makarov behind that, Songbird’s got another thing coming for her.”

“You think so?”

“Oh I know so! Makarov… Well, he’s not a good man. Let’s just hope it’s anybody but Makarov.”

König glanced around in the dark. Makarov? Who was this Makarov? Why was he interested in his little Songbird?

He didn’t bother to hide his footsteps as he crawled away, too focused on the new man to notice how the girls went silent as he left.

“Was that the phantom?” someone asked.

“Maybe. What’re your thoughts he wrote the letter?”

“A ghost writing a letter? Now I know you’re making things up.”

“Who knows, maybe he did. Can you imagine it? A phantom falling in love with our little Songbird?”

Someone hummed carefully, “Something tells me that’s not too far off the truth.”

König dump

Alternate Universes

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Evermore

This is based on the TikTok I watched. I am feeling super angst lately, so I hope you enjoy it! The reader is in love with Lucifer; however, Lucifer is in love with Lilith and doesn't see the reader. The song is Evermore from Live Action Beauty and the Beast. I recommend playing it in the background, as the song applies to Lucifer and the reader in their respective feelings.

Lucifer was a breathtaking creature, a being of unmatched beauty that defied all comparison. He embodied glory and grace, sin and desire, love and compassion. Perfection radiated from him, and the moment you laid eyes on him, you felt it—a magnetic pull that drew you into his enchanting world.

It didn’t take long for a friendship to blossom between you and the enigmatic king of ducks. Both of you shared a whimsical spirit and an eccentric approach to life, reveling in laughter and the absurdity of existence. You were mirror images of one another, two souls destined to intertwine. Yet, as the seasons turned, you found yourself in a painful limbo, watching the years slip by without a trace of Lilith.

You understood the bond between Lucifer and Lilith—strong and unbreakable. He loved her with a devotion that transcended mere affection, needing no one to fill the void she left behind. She was his eternal flame, and no one else could ever ignite his heart the way she did.

This knowledge tormented you, for your love for him burned fiercely, a flame that flickered in the shadows of his unwavering devotion to another. You resented Lilith, not out of malice, but because she had vanished, leaving Lucifer to languish in the castle, waiting for a phantom who may never return.

How you longed to be the one who filled his heart. How desperately you wished to occupy the space that Lilith once held. He was so captivated by a woman so far beyond his reach that he failed to see the one who stood before him—adoring him, aching for his affection.

For six agonizing years, you endured this silent suffering, watching as Lucifer gradually descended into despair, each passing day serving as a reminder of her absence. You observed him sitting before her portrait, eyes filled with longing, clinging to the hope that she would walk through the castle doors and into his arms once more.

Each year felt like a dagger to your heart, another opportunity lost to be seen, to be cherished. It was almost comical how you both mirrored each other—not just in your personalities but in the fierce yearning to love someone who was unreachable.

Your love for him mirrored his for Lilith, and it was a bitter pill to swallow. Deep down, you knew he would never leave your side; you were his best friend, a cherished companion. But that was all you would ever be—an echo of the love he reserved for another.

You were two fools, yearning for an everafter that would never come. Two souls grasping for a light that flickered tantalizingly in the vast darkness of loneliness, always out of reach.

Lucifer was indeed a great friend—the best, in fact—but how long could you endure this torment? How could you tell this broken man that your heart was fracturing under the weight of unrequited love? 

You could wait for eternity, hoping that Lilith would never return to reclaim him, but what good would it do if each year of her absence found you sitting beside him, watching as he wept for her? You could don disguises, try to morph into the vision of her that he so adored, but it would never satisfy the yearning to be loved as your true self.

After six grueling years of waiting, of longing for him to see you—to notice you, to desire you—you realized that he would always be entranced by Lilith. As you stole a glance away from him, you envisioned a life filled with love and acceptance, a life that felt perpetually just out of reach. Could you ever love someone who wasn’t Lucifer?

Tormented by the idea of leaving him behind, a painful clarity emerged. Perhaps that’s what you had to do. So, with a heavy heart, you took a step away from the man who had captured your soul yet remained oblivious to your feelings. You knew the door would always be open for him; he would always have a place in your heart.

As you walked out onto the fiery streets of Hell, tears streamed down your cheeks, each drop a testament to the love you had nurtured in silence. You realized that you would not have the man for whom you had waited so long. He would remain in that castle, forever hoping for Lilith’s return, locked in a longing that rivaled your own.

You knew he was your forever in a way, but perhaps he was meant to be your forever in unrequited love, and somehow, that would have to be enough for Evermore.