#and that helps christine accept herself which is beautiful! :')

[britishchick09]

a rewrite comic about body positivity! :) (based on this post by @lestatsstims)

transcript:

*arrows pointing to the statue saying 'small chest', 'smushy tummy', 'thick thighs'*

rewrite christine thinking: she's like me... *feels insecure*

rewrite erik: "wow, she's so beautiful! like a goddess!"

christine: "wha- you think so?"

erik: "yes. i'd love to have a healthy body like that. it's the perfect body in my eyes. so is being chubbier!"

christine: *blushes while gazing at the statue*

erik: *smiles* "i'd be so proud to have a body like that."

christine: "yes..."

christine: "i'm certainly proud."

[seaoflove07]

~ Ballroom Event ~

🔪Azusa & Rose🌹

Oc x Canon.

Characters: Azusa Mukami & Christine Melendez. (Rose)

Fan Fiction Written by Me.

Word Count: 1460.

Fandom: Diabolik Lovers.

• Note: Since Yui is in Azusa & Christine’s story. The Mukami brothers have a different nickname for Christine. •

Ruki at the beginning used to call her “Livestock” but ever since Azusa & Rose's relationship got serious and he saw how happy his brother is with Christine, he now just simply calls her, “Christine-san.”

Kou calls her “Kujaku-chan.” which means Peacock in English. (All credit to @cutelih for helping me choose this nickname)

Yuma calls her “Blondie”

Oc Introduction Here.

Event by @bluerosethornrp

⚠️A tiny bit of Nsfw near the end⚠️

• Photo Source: Picrew, Pinterest, IMVU and I edited Rejet Azusa’s CG •

- The Scene starts in Christine’s Bedroom -

Looking in the mirror, Christine is happy with her style choice for tonight’s ball. She has on a beautiful black gown dress with a pair of pearl stud earrings and a pearl necklace. Usually, she always wears her gold cross necklace, but for the ball, she wanted something more elegant. Last week, she and the Mukami brothers went to a boutique shop together. Azusa hasn't seen her in this dress yet. They were all busy trying out different outfits. It was a long night, once we all chose our outfits, we had dinner at a nice restaurant. The brothers told her that Karlheinz had done many ballroom events over the centuries, not only in the Demon World but also in the Human World as well. This particular ballroom event that they are going together will be in the Human World. Christine has never been to a ballroom before, this will be her first. The brothers told her that they had been to a lot of them. It was nice spending time with Azu and his brothers. For the final touch, she grabs her favorite perfume, Coco Mademoiselle by Chanel and sprays it on her neck, the insides of her wrists, inner elbows, and behind her earlobes. She puts the perfume bottle back on her vanity, then looks at herself one more time in the mirror.

Azusa: “Rose-san…”

She turns around, looking at him.

Christine: “Azu… I didn't hear you come in.” 

(He definitely teleported, He doesn't do that often, only when he wants to surprise her) 

Azusa: “Rose… You look so beautiful… in that dress… You always take… my breath away…with your beauty…”

Taking her hand, he bows down a little and kisses her hand.

Christine: “Thank you Azu, you look really handsome as well.” She said with a smile.

He is wearing an elegant black tuxedo with a nice purple shirt. She notices he is holding a small white box with a pretty red ribbon on it.

Azusa: “Rose… I have… a gift for you…”

- He gives her the small box -

She removes the ribbon and opens the box. There's a pretty small red rose inside.

Azusa: “I bought this…  rose hair clip… for you… I love placing… flowers in your hair… but the flowers… always die quickly… when I saw this hair clip… at the boutique display… I had to buy it… for you… the clip is 18k gold…”

Christine: “Azusa, I don't want you to spend a lot of money on me.”

Azusa: “Eh...? Rose… you are precious… to me… and I am happy… to buy nice things for you… please… I want you… to accept my gift…”

Christine: “Azu, I will accept your gift. I truly love it. Thank you so much.”

She kissed his cheek.

Smiling, he takes the rose clip out of the box and places it in her hair.

Azusa: “Roses really do suit you...” He said while stroking her hair.

*Knock Knock*

Yuma: “Oi Azusa and Blondie, I’m gonna open the door, and you better not be doing anything I don't want to see.”

He walks into the room.

“What is taking you guys so long? Our ride is here, Ruki sent me to get the two of you. We don't want to get him upset by being late to the ball. Move your asses and let's go!”

Azusa nods and takes Christine’s hand.

Azusa: “Come… Let's go, Rose…”

*TimeSkip*

- They Arrive at the Ballroom -

Christine: (I'm so happy to be here. Everything looked stunning! Classy and fancy-looking. All the tables had a huge bouquet of red roses, and the ceilings had beautiful vintage paintings. Music is playing and people are dancing. Near the dance floor there's a nice fountain…)

Ruki: “Come everyone, let's sit at our assigned table.”

As they walk through the tables, Christine saw all the Sakamaki brothers and Yui sitting at their table. The brothers looked like they were arguing like always. Yui looked at her with a smile, she looked so pretty in her pink gown dress, Christine smiled back at her and gave her a small wave. She plans later to say hi and to talk to her for a bit.

- Azusa pulls Christine’s chair back, waiting for her to sit  - 

Christine: “Thank you, Azu.” She said smiling and sat on her chair.

- Azusa sits next to her -

Azusa: “Rose-san… would you… like a drink…?”

She saw there were bottles of champagne and wine at the table already for them.

Christine: “Yes please, I’ll have a red wine.”

Yuma: “Careful Blondie, don’t get drunk on us.”

Kou: “Fufu~ Let Kujaku-chan have fun Yuma, the night is young.”

Ruki: “You all better be on your best behavior, I don’t want any embarrassment.”

Looking at Kou.

Kou: “Ruki, you are no fun. Anyways, I see a few cute fan girls looking my way. I’m gonna go say hi. See you all later.”

He stands up and leaves.

Ruki and Yuma started talking to each other. Christine took a sip of her wine and noticed that Azusa was staring at her.

Christine: “What?” She asks with a smile.

-A Ballad Song Starts Playing -

The Night We Met by Lord Huron.

He smiles back at his blonde beauty.

Azusa: “I’m happy… to be here… with my precious rose…tonight…”

Christine: “I’m happy too.”

She takes his hand.

“Azusa, would you like to dance with me?” 

Azusa: “Yes…” 

They both stand up still holding hands, while walking to the dance floor that was near the fountain. Staring at each other’s eyes. Christine wraps her arms around his neck, while Azusa places his hands on her hips.

- They start slow dancing together -

Moving their bodies slowly from side to side. 

Christine: “Our dance practice back home paid off. Azu, you're doing so well.”

Azusa: “...Eh...? You think so...? I tried... my best for you… I didn't want… to embarrass you… this was the only dance… I was… able to learn… sorry for being so pathetic…”

She Frowns.

Christine: “Azusa, don't talk like that. You are never an embarrassment to me and you are not pathetic either. You know I don’t like it when you talk like that... because... you are my everything.”

(Azusa’s deep gaze is making my heart beat so fast!…)

Azusa: “... You know… I never forget…  the night we met… when the night was… full of terrors… and your eyes… were filled with tears… when you had not… touched me yet… Your beauty… your skin… your blood and floral scent… captivated me… my love for you … is stronger every day…”

Pressing her body closer to his while still dancing.

- Christine cups his cheek -

“Rose-san… are you happy… with me…?”

Christine: “Even though we had a rough beginning to our relationship... You make me happy, and my heart still beast fasts every time I’m with you.”

- Azusa pressed his forehead against hers -

“With you, I feel secure. I love you, Azusa.”

He smoothed her hair.

Azusa: “Rose…”

His fingers found the sensitive curve of her scalp, cradling her head as he kissed her, sucking her bottom lip. Then he took her mouth in a deep demanding kiss. His tongue moved against hers, exploring her, possessing her, making her moan in his mouth.

Her breathing becomes heavy, and she breaks the kiss, placing her hands on his chest.

Christine: “Azu…we are still on the dance floor.” She can feel her cheeks flushed.

Azusa: “... I saw many men... looking at you tonight… my heart starts aching… just by thinking about it… so I needed… to show everyone… that you belong only to me… you are all mine… the thought of you… leaving me… for someone else… is a pain I will never… be able to handle… I love you… so much…” 

He hugs her tight.

“Rose… I want to suck... your blood...”

Christine: “Now!?”

Azusa: “Yes.. let’s go...”

*TimeSkip*

- Azusa takes her outside to the Rose Garden -

Christine: “Azusa, someone might see us here.”

- He pins her down -

Azusa: “Sorry, Rose-san… I've been holding back… this whole time…”

- He kisses her neck and breaths on it, caressing her with his fangs -

She moans softly.

Christine: “Azu… I’m in love with you and I will never leave you for anyone, I am yours…”

Azusa: “My Rose…”

- Azusa bites her hard -

*Slurp*

Azusa: “Hmmm… Rose-san’s blood is… flowing through me… It feels so good…”

He licks the bite mark and starts biting her deeper near the chest, making it hurt even more, slightly rubbing his body against hers, and groping her breast.

*Gulp*

A flick of pain, her arms squeezed around him.

Christine: “Please… you must stop.”

She gasped.

“I can’t bear any more.” 

He looks at her with desire in his eyes.

Azusa: “Yes… you can…”

He pressed his lips to hers, letting her taste some of her own blood.

“I want your everything… till sunrise… I love you… my precious Rose… forever...”

He continues to bite her

Enjoying her lovely expressions and sounds

She is his rose, and only his

He will make that clear tonight… 

- End -

Thank you for reading. 📖🌹

• Artwork by 46SnowFox •

[ginemrys]

a bedsharing fic!! <3

i had some fun with this one!!! thank you for sending in the prompt @sunshine-marauders <3

-------

“Lily, it’s okay, we’ll grab a room in a hotel, it’s not the end of the world.” James said as the two of them stood staring up at the boards in the centre of Euston station, tears in Lily’s eyes as she read the bright orange “CANCELLED” sign beside their train, the last train of the night that would get them home.

It had been a wonderful night of visiting the theatre with one of her best friends, getting lost in a musical for a few hours. The two of them had been singing songs from the show to each other on the tube on the way back to their station, not caring as they got weird stares from other passengers on the Northern line whilst they sang a beautiful rendition of All I Ask Of You. And sure, Lily had felt her heart beat a little faster when they reached the point of the song where Christine and Raoul kiss as she looked into James’ eyes, but that didn’t mean she liked him. It just meant that she understood the character, right?

But their sing-along had come at a price. They’d missed their stop. And the next after that. Then the next. It wasn’t until the last passenger left besides them on the train got off at Golders Green that they’d realised their mistake. And then they’d had to run and get the tube back to Euston, only to just miss one. A three minute wait later and they were finally heading back to Euston, getting off to discover that the last train to Northampton was cancelled. And they were stranded in London.

Lily was wiping furiously at her eyes. They’d stopped for a drink in a bar after the show, assuming that they’d have enough time. So the alcohol in her system heightened her emotions, resulting in the water works. James was scrolling through his phone, looking for the closest hotel.

“There’s a Travelodge or a Premier Inn, they’re fairly close. Everything else is ridiculously expensive.” James said, glancing up at her. “Which would you prefer?”

“Premier Inn, duh.” Lily said, pushing her hair out of her face. “Are you sure we can’t get a taxi?”

“From Euston to Leighton Buzzard?” James shook his head. “It’ll be cheaper to spend the night. Come on, it won’t be that bad. It’s just a short walk and then we can grab some breakfast in the morning before heading home.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “What do you say?”

“Fine,” Lily shoved his side playfully, but leaned into his hold after. “But you’re buying breakfast, you’re the one who suggested drinks.”

“Deal.” James chuckled before ducking to kiss the top of her head. “Come on, let’s go. It’s late and we’re both shattered.”

And so they made their way out of the station, following Google Maps to the closest Premier Inn. It was dead quiet inside, just one sleepy receptionist behind the desk barely able to hold her head up.

“Hi, how can I help?” She asked in a monotone voice, having just blinked at the two of them a few times as if she was trying to figure out if they were real or just her imagination.

“Hey, we missed the last train home. Do you have any rooms for tonight?” James asked, running his hand through his hair. Lily watched his movements, eyes following the motion of his fingers brushing through the messy black curls. She wanted to do that, run her hands through his hair. Chill out, Lily. She mentally berated herself, barely hearing the conversation beside her as she tried to sort out whatever the hell was going on with her hormones at that moment.

“Lily?”

“What?”

“Are you good with sharing a bed? There’s only doubles left.”

Holy shit. The thought of sharing a bed with James both thrilled and terrified her. Would she be able to control herself around him? The not crush but definitely a crush that she’d been harbouring for him for the last few months might rear its ugly head and make her do something stupid. But then again, she really didn’t want to have to walk all the way to the Travelodge and have the exact same option, or no room at all.

So she nodded, blushing when James grinned and turned back to the receptionist, passing over his card. Lily tried to protest but he insisted that she could just send him half the money later to save time. Then before she knew it she was joining him in the lift, heading up to the fifth floor. Of course James had had the foresight to ask for some toothbrushes and toothpaste, Lily was far too occupied to even consider such a thing.

Lily decided that she was going to hum to herself the overture to Phantom of the Opera as they travelled up to their floor, her eyes fixed on the ceiling of the lift. And then James’ hand was in hers, pulling her out of the lift and down the corridors of the fifth floor until they came to a stop in front of their room. He swiped the key card and there they were, alone, in a room with one bed.

Her throat felt thick as Lily looked at the double bed, why did it look so tiny? She stood in the small space beside the open wardrobe and the bathroom while James flicked on the lights and moved further into the room, peeling off his jacket and kicking off his shoes as he went.

“Come on, Evans. It’s just a place to sleep.” He smiled at her as he said it, noticing her hesitance. Damn him for being so perceptive to her emotions all of the time. With a deep breath, Lily walked further into the room, setting her shoes beside his while her own jacket draped over the top of his on the chair.

“Here, toothbrush.” He said, passing her one of the two clear toothbrushes he had picked up. “I’ll let you use the bathroom first, gentleman as I am.”

“Oh, so kind.” Lily rolled her eyes while grinning at him, accepting the toothbrush gratefully. She shut herself up in the bathroom, immediately rushing to the sink to splash some water on her face. Why was she so warm? “Get it together, Evans.” She muttered to herself, glancing at her reflection. She sighed as she looked at her makeup, minimal as it was, she had nothing to remove it with. Which would almost certainly result in panda eyes in the morning, but what other choice did she have?

So she left her face alone and focused on brushing her teeth, being a little more thorough than she usually would so James wouldn’t have to wake up to horrific morning breath. God, James was going to see her first thing in the morning. Christ on a bike. She filled one of the small glasses by the sink with water to rinse out her mouth, then gulped another glass down.

James was sitting perched on the edge of the bed when she returned, his eyes meeting hers straight away. Damn, did this man ever stop smiling?

“All… All yours.” Lily said quietly, stepping out of the way as he moved to head into the bathroom.

“Thanks, Lil.”

The door locked behind him and she released a deep breath again, her fingers moving shakily to undo her jeans. She knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep in them, so wanted to get them off and climb under the covers before he could come back. He wouldn’t want to see her in her underwear.

Jeans folded, with her bra tucked safely beneath them, Lily climbed into the left side of the bed, hoping he didn’t mind that she preferred the left. She plugged her phone into the socket next to her bed, thanking her past self for packing her charger in her bag. And then she waited, sitting cross-legged beneath the duvet as she listened to the sounds of the tap running.

The bathroom door opened and Lily had to do her best not to gasp. He’d taken his shirt off. It wasn’t even like it was the first time she’d seen him shirtless either, but seeing him in a dimly lit bedroom right before he was about to be laying right next to her was something else.

“You don’t mind if I sleep in my boxers, do you?” He was asking, his eyes having taken note of her folded jeans.

Lily shook her head, doing her best to look him in the eyes rather than drool all over his bare chest like some hormonal teenage girl watching Magic Mike for the first time. But then he turned his back on her and was pushing his jeans over his hips and Lily couldn’t help but stare. It was actually so unfair how fit her best friend was now, she could still remember the scrawny little kid she used to swim in the local lake with.

Any shred of sanity Lily had left vanished when he turned to face her again, she could feel a wave of heat rushing all over her body. And he’d seen it happen, had seen her eyes darken and her gaze shift into something hungry.

But he ignored it, electing to just climb into bed beside her and turn out the light, facing away from her.

With a slight huff, Lily threw herself down against her pillow, gazing up at the dark ceiling. Her arms were folded over her chest, her legs still crossed like they had been when she’d been sitting. While annoyed that he’d not responded to her sex eyes, she also just felt embarrassed. Because she’d totally just objectified him, looked at her best friend in the whole world like he was a tree for her to climb and use. And she hated herself for it.

“I can hear you thinking, Evans.” James whispered through the darkness, his back still facing hers. “Relax.”

And she did, her hands slid to rest on her stomach, her legs unfolded and moved to rest against the mattress. Her eyes closed and she let out a small sigh. And then he had to go and roll over, his breath on her neck.

While she knew she should just ignore it, squint her eyes and try to sleep, Lily couldn’t help but turn her head on her pillow, her eyes opening once more. And there he was, looking at her. No glasses, his hair already made even messier than usual from the pillow. He just looked so soft.

Usually James was all sharp edges and angular, charisma dripping from every inch of his body. He was sarcastic and energetic and never ever seemed to get tired. But there, laying in bed beside him, he seemed so calm, so at peace. His sharp edges had blurred, softened by the look in his eyes as he gazed at Lily. And that was what he was doing, gazing.

It didn’t take her much to lean in, just one look from him was enough. Her body turned on the mattress as she shifted to reach his lips, her own brushing his softly. And then she moved to pull away, to see his reaction when he moved, his hand sliding to the back of her neck to drag her closer. His lips covered hers and by god, did it feel right. Lily’s hand came to rest on his chest as she kissed him eagerly, their mouths pressing together in a perfect dance, nothing too eager or too slow.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for months.” Lily whispered when they broke apart, her eyes still closed.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for years.”

She looked at him then. There was no trace of a lie in his eyes. She believed him, because of course she did. James never lied to her.

And then she tackled him against the bed and thanked the London Northwestern Railway gods for cancelling the last train home.

[tinalbion]

Since ya like experimenting (I think): Headcanons for The Phantom (from the 1989 movie) and a Reader who takes Christine's place in the story?

Ahhh yes! Dude this movie was interesting and I loved Robert as a more horror-based version of Eric. I will do my absolute best for you and I hope this is close to what you wanted! ♡ 'Composer by day, serial killer by night'. After rewatching it, I popped tf off and I am not sorry. 

Christine had been a gift to the opera house, he was her teacher, her angel of music. She felt something for him, but once she knew who he was, what he was, she wanted to be as far from him as she possibly could. Eric would have retaliated badly if it weren't for an odd glimmer in the crowd that caught his eye, but maybe it was nothing. He was distraught by his beloved's outburst. Maybe she just needed time and maybe he did too, but no matter how enraged he felt by Christine's rejection, there was still something that perplexed him.

You were in awe of those who were on stage ever since you were a young child, you had always wanted to perform, but the fear of becoming something like that, it was amazing and terrifying. You'd walk the empty halls there sometimes, singing the composed words the stage held previously, the beautiful melodies resounding in your mind. It wasn’t quite possible to do since your family had no status to get in good graces with the right people, but you were happy enough to afford the opera with your family when you could. It was the only thing that really kept you going through life. 

This evening after the show, which was a complication on its own, you had once again taken your usual routine to walk the empty halls to admire the architectural beauties and play pretend, if only for a little while. Your humming turned to full-on singing a tune as you looked up at the wonders of the stage, imagining what it would be like to be where the greats have stood. You imagined a beautiful ensemble to wear upon that golden stage, the bright lights shining down on you, filling you with a warmth that overtook you.

Your thoughts were short-lived as the sound of an organ took over and filled the room with the melody of the song you sang, chills running up your arms as you fell into the soul of the music. You sang along louder this time, picking up where you left off as you mindlessly belted out the words. If only you could see who had been playing so beautifully! The music they played felt so passionate, so beautiful. As much as you were enjoying this shared moment between this mysterious stranger, you longed to know their identity to praise their musical abilities. 

As the tune ended and you smiled wide to yourself, your eyes scanned the room for the person who accompanied you in the grand theater, but no one was there. "Please," you'd call out, "let me see you. Your playing was incredible." They would remain silent as you continued on, rambling off until either they revealed themselves or you found them. You never would have guessed the Opera Ghost was incredibly real, but those were all just stories made up to spook the people who would wander the halls alone. 

You were resilient, you wouldn't give up to see the person who played so beautifully, so filled with pain, but he wouldn't show himself. "I’m afraid you cannot see me," the voice echoed hauntingly, “you will be afraid.” His words were pained and sincere, but he didn’t know you and he surely didn’t know how you would react to someone like him. You were confident that you could withstand the sight of someone like the Phantom. Again, you urged him to reveal himself, and he secretly adored your tenaciousness, but he was still wary, still hurting, he couldn’t bear to scare you away. He couldn’t take it again, he wouldn’t know how he’d react to it, but you were alone…

He circled you without giving away his position, his eyes upon you like a lion keeping its prey within its gaze as he watches your every move. The way your chest rose with each breath, but your breathing was steady despite being in such a dangerous situation, he was intrigued with you. Your eyes wandered, no idea of the real threat lurking around you. Eric was slowly becoming more and more interested in you, the memory of Christine still fresh but fading, because you were here. He was so tempted to call you to him like he would have for the singer, to pull you into the depths where he poured his heart and soul into his music, where he could feel at ease with himself. Whether you would accept him or not, that didn't bother him, not now. All that mattered right now was this moment. 

"If you see me, do you promise not to run?" He asked, his words soft-spoken as you noticed his words had sounded closer. You whipped your head around, searching, the acoustics of the room were throwing you off, but you kept on searching until it led you behind the curtains and within the darkness. Here was where you would have your first brush with the phantom and the sense of excitement that you had never felt before, but that wouldn't be the only time you would feel the thrill. "I promise," you would say shyly, unable to hide the smile that grew across your face. 

When you had seen a glimpse of him, his cape fluttered around his legs as he stood a safe distance away from you, mainly for his own regard and how he was feeling. "What's your name?" He asked you, his voice deep and soothing. You immediately didn't know what to say or how to say it, but you had to start with your name. "Y/N," you responded as you tilted your head to the side, unable to hide your excitement. He noted the way your face lit up and he could see you in a new light the more he spoke to you, and all he wanted was to show you his music and hear you sing his words. "Your voice is quite beautiful, Y/N," he said sweetly, "have you ever thought of singing professionally?" The mere thought of it made your stomach twist and you felt the butterflies within you start to dance. "I've thought about it," you responded carefully. 

Eric wanted so desperately to take you under his wing and teach you to become the best of yourself, to see you take flight with his music, oh it would be a dream. He would make sure not to fail you like he did with Christine, he would be more careful this time around. If you'd agree, things would be different. You had been self-taught, the things you needed now would be discipline and direction. He could teach you these things. "What if i said I could make that happen for you? Become your teacher, help you spread your wings and fly?" The thought of it was insane! Could he really do this for you and make you into a star? Whatever he had done, whatever magic he cast, you fell hard for it and nodded your head eagerly. "Yes, please, I want nothing more," you cried out in excitement, your hands clasped together. "Please, who are you? Are you the Phantom? I'm not afraid, you know." 

That's when Eric couldn't help but press forward to see you closer, he wanted to show you just what you would get into if you were to train with someone like him, although he was still terrified to scare you off. The light hit him just right and you had seen his eye, his beautiful orb staring at you, the other half of his face covered by some sort of scarf. 'So mysterious,' you thought. Either way, his presence didn't invoke fear, he brought you an odd sense of comfort.  He held out his hand to you, offering for a reason you wanted to take so desperately, you needed this, otherwise, it may never happen again. You hesitated, naturally, but with a deep breath and placed your delicate hand in his gloved one, a growl of satisfaction emerged from his mouth as he pulled you close to him. You could now smell him, earthly, smoke, and a waft of something soft. You could smell that and die with a smile on your face. Eric was feeling quite similar, that familiar bubbly feeling happening within the pit of his stomach, almost like when he was with Christine. He wouldn't hide things from you, in due time, you'd know all there was to know about Eric Destler. 

When he pulled you down into the darkness of the underground, beneath the opera floors, you weren't expecting another world down there. He had made it his home, although it had been partially destroyed from an accident. He was making do with how things were, though he was still distraught, you could tell with the way he carried himself. Once he removed the wrapping on his face, you were amazed by him, not frightened as he said you would be, and you took a bolder step like no one else had before. Your hand was placed on him, cupping his cheek as he looked at you with surprise, not expecting a beautiful creature like you to show him any affection of any kind. He gasped, his eyes watered as he closed them quickly, afraid to show you just how weak he was for your touch and just how we had wished Christine would have accepted him like this. He would die protecting you, there was no doubt now. You smiled at him, happy to see him feel at ease with you. 

Your days were spent training with him, teaching you to sing until you were able to become an understudy for the diva herself if it was possible with everything that had happened. You knew Eric was different from the moment you laid your eyes on him, but it didn't bother you in the slightest, all people were unique in their own way and that never bothered you. He would give you longing glances as you read the sheet music to his works, touched by how beautifully written they had been, the music touched a part of you that was only brought out within the depths of under the opera house. You and Eric had slowly begun to feel comfortable around each other, though you took quicker to the situation than he had, hile was always on edge and somewhat distant. You didn't blame him, especially when you found out about his former student, whom he felt so much love and affection for. It was difficult for him to mention her because he felt that there would always be a part of himself with her, but he was doubting that now with you here. Maybe having him as your dark angel wouldn't be so bad.

[shemakesmusic-uk]

Texan-born, Brooklyn-based singer-songwriter and TikTok personality Allison Ponthier makes a splash with 'Cowboy' – it's the enthralling first taste of her upcoming EP. Finding a path away from her conservative upbringing, queer singer-songwriter Allison Ponthier is another artist making country music her own. Taking references from Kacey Musgraves and Orville Peck, Ponthier's take on the genre is high camp and features a kaleidoscopic visual world too. Growing a huge following on TikTok, 'Cowboy' marks the start of a whole new chapter for Ponthier with her debut release with Interscope and Polydor. The track itself references her move from the bible belt to New York City and her journey accepting her sexuality. Warm and inviting 'Cowboy' is cinematic pop with some real heart-on-sleeve confessional songwriting. Complete with a masterful music video that runs like a mini-movie complete with impressive special effects, on reflection, cinematic is an understatement. The video itself is a striking and exciting introduction to this new artist, “I probably watch movies more than I listen to music,” Ponthier says of the video. The clip, directed by Jordan Bahat (Christine and the Queens) adds a whole new cosmic energy to the track and aims to amplify the lyrics' detailed storytelling. As she unveils more of her forthcoming debut EP, Ponthier explains what we can expect from her; “a lot of my songs are about being uncomfortable in your own skin but getting to know yourself better, figuring out who you really are.” [via the Line Of Best Fit]

Miley Cyrus has shared the full video for 'Angels Like You'. The pop rebel returned in 2020 with her excellent album Plastic Hearts, a series of superb empowerment anthems. Album highlight 'Angels Like You' has received the video treatment, shot at the Superbowl in front of an audience of fully vaccinated healthcare workers. Miley has also provided a note for the video describing her feelings of gratitude to these workers. [via Clash]

LA punk four-piece The Paranoyds have dropped a new video for track 'Egg Salad', taken from their album Carnage Bargain which is out now on Suicide Squeeze. The video's director Nicole Stunwyck comments "The video presents the glitzy & glamorous world of a teenage girl who, after accidentally catching a beauty pageant on TV, dreams of her rise to stardom & subsequent downfall... It’s not a commentary on anything but an experimental depiction of my own personal fascination for young tragic starlets alà Valley of The Dolls."

Noga Erez and collaborative partner ROUSSO have shared a fifth compelling new single from forthcoming album KIDS which is set for release on March 26 via City Slang. 'Story' is a snappy, addictive song about how couples relationships are always a relationship between two people’s past and present. "Everyone brings their past experiences to the relationship even if things are great" Erez comments. "Sometimes past situations come in and take over." As with the album's previous singles 'Story' is brought to life with a captivating video, starring Erez and ROUSSO, who also provides vocals on the track. "ROUSSO is my partner in music as well as my partner in life" she explains. "This is the first time we tell a story about our relationship in a song and video. It’s a song about a couple fighting and how, in that situation, sometimes what you hear the other person say is not what they actually said. The making of this video was a 10-day couples therapy session for us. As we rehearsed the pretend fighting and martial arts moves we knew that, at times, one of us would get punched just a little too hard. It was so intense and interesting to live in this world, where our relationship comes alive in the most physical way."

After announcing Detritus with lead outing 'Stories' last month, Sarah Neufeld has unveiled the album's second single 'With Love and Blindness'. Neufeld says of the song and Jason Last-directed video, "The video for 'With Love and Blindness' came together through a long-time collaboration between myself and videographer Jason Last. I knew that Jason and I would work together again on some visual aspect for my third solo release, and it so happened that before I even began recording the album, we were presented with the opportunity to do a mini residence on Corsica with Providenza; an amazing collective with a farm, cultural laboratory, festival and residency program." She continues, "I was doing a short solo tour in Europe in the summer of 2019 in order to re-work some of the pieces from the dance collaboration to begin to find a shape for the album that was to be recorded in the Fall. In the middle of that tour, Jason and I travelled to Corsica for several days (graced once again with a suitcase containing Esteban Cortazar’s unique and beautiful creations). Besides performing in Providenza’s outdoor amphitheater, we were immersed in nature, literally staying in a treehouse perched on the side of a mountain, overlooking the dramatic coastline." Neufeld adds, "I found that the pulse of the landscape resonated with the essence of the music, especially "With Love and Blindness"; a sense of rawness, of sensuality, of a strange gravity intensified by the hypnotic summer heat and the general otherworldliness of the place." [via the Line Of Best Fit]

Molly Burman was brought up around music. At every family event, every party, the soundtrack would resonate with her, providing an education in itself. Both parents were gigging musicians, and she always wanted to follow in their footsteps, to use performance as a means of self-expression. Lockdown brought the time and space to bring these ideas into focus, and she's working to unveil a series of one off singles. Her debut single proper 'Fool Me With Flattery' is out now, a blissfully melodic piece of indie pop with some whip-smart lyricism. There's a tongue in cheek element to her sound that is fantastically endearing, matched by the subtle lo-fi elements of her bedroom pop confection. She comments: "I wrote the song after a long day of feeling overlooked and ignored by some of the guys in my life. I was fed up, angry and used the stereotype of a mansplaining misogynist to let it all out. This song is for anyone who feels belittled and like they’re being made to shrink themselves; be as big as you possibly can, and don’t let anyone fool you with flattery." The video is a hilarious showcase for Molly's offbeat sense of humour. [via Clash]

Punk provocateurs Pussy Riot have unveiled their latest song 'Panic Attack', as well as a music video that features a hologram of singer Nadya Tolokonnikova. This is the final release from Pussy Riot’s new Panic Attack EP, a collection of three linked songs that, for now, can only be streamed as separate singles. The title track features punk guitars underneath a tinkling music box melody, as Tolokonnikova turns anxiety into a sports cheer. “Gimme an A,” she says, “Gimme a T/ Gimme a T/ Gimme an A/ Gimme a C/ Gimme a K/ Okay? Okay.” While upbeat and seemingly cheerful, the synth-punk song comes out of the trauma she experienced in a Russian prison camp. As she explained in a statement, “After serving 2 years in a labor camp, I’m still struggling with mental health issues. Trauma, fear and insecurity never fully go away, causing depression episodes and deep anxiety. ‘PANIC ATTACK’ was born as the result of me staring at the wall for 24 hours in the middle of the pandemic, feeling 100% helpless. I was trying to write something uplifting to encourage people to get through the tough times. But I was just failing and failing. Magically, at the second I allowed myself to be honest and write about despair I was experiencing, I wrote the track in like a half an hour. Depression is a plague of the 21st century, and it tells me that there’s something broken in the way we treat each other. The video ‘PANIC ATTACK’ reflects on objectification of human beings, loneliness, disconnection from the environment that causes us to feel small and powerless. And it’s us who caused it with our own hands – that’s why in the end of the video I’m fighting with my own clone.” The music video for 'Panic Attack' was directed by  Asad J. Malik. He used 106 cameras to capture all angles of Tolokonnikova, then converted that information into a photoreal hologram. Afterwards, Tokyo-based creative technologist Ruben Fro built out landscapes reminiscent of video games through which the virtual Tolokonnikova could frolic. But as the visuals progress, those idyllic settings give way to a hellscape, and the singer faces off against a clone of herself. [via Consequence of Sound]

The wait is finally over. BLACKPINK’s Rosé shines like the star she is with her official solo debut. On Friday, she released two solo songs on her debut single album titled R, 'On the Ground' and 'Gone.' With its deep lyrics, angelic bridge, and Rosé’s high note at the end, 'On the Ground' is an exemplary song for her solo debut. Add the fact that Rosé is credited as a writer for the song, and one can really tell how much time she spent perfecting it for release. The accompanying music video, meanwhile, expands the story of life and growth. Rosé starts off looking lost and trying to find herself amidst all the wildness of life; she eventually encounters past and present versions of herself while searching for answers and purpose. By the end, she finds herself and her path forward, and one can’t help but smile as she sings an explosive outro. [via Teen Vogue]

On Ellise's latest alt-pop concoction the rising pop star gets gothic as 'Feeling Something Bad...' transforms a crush into an obsession. An expert at catastrophising everyday experiences, the LA-based artist has arrived fully formed with not only a consistent and cohesive sound but a striking visual identity too. That's even more clear when you press play on the accompanying video for her latest infectiously catchy track. With the clip directed by Joakim Carlsson we get to see Ellise in her absolute element as she brings "Feeling Something Bad..." to life in a macabre world of its own. “I just love dramatising little everyday feelings in life, so this is my big dramatic ‘I have a crush on you’ song,” Ellise explains – it's a song she wrote about a boy she barely knew. [via the Line Of Best Fit]

With President Biden determined to get the majority of American adults vaccinated by summer, bands are earnestly beginning to look forward to the return of live music. Purity Ring are the latest to announce 2021 tour dates, which they’ve shared alongside the video for their track 'sinew'. The song comes from WOMB, the synth-pop duo’s first album in five years that was released just before the pandemic struck. Directed by Toby Stretch, the clip brings back the abstract graphics and costumes that featured in the 'stardew' music video, continuing the enigmatic story of the domed bicyclist and their sun-headed sidecar companion. [via Consequence of Sound]

Australian Pop Princess, Peach PRC releases the official music video for her debut single 'Josh'. Peach PRC comments on the official 'Josh' visuals, “The music video was inspired by growing up watching the same five infomercials, morning news channels and old movies on my little pink box tv when I was a kid and couldn’t sleep on a school night. The idea was to have “josh” feel just as harassed the more he tries to call. Every creative step along the way was entirely my vision, from writing the music video script, to the lyrics and everything in between. I’m so happy and hope all the girls, gays and theys who dated “josh” will sing along.”

[believerindaydreams]

Girl!bonding turned into wlw Veronica/Carla, cos apparently Carla has the Cherchez La Femme perk in addition to sewing skillz. My character now Obsidian :)))

I suppose this would be crossing at dawn 2.5, come to think of it

It isn't what Veronica's holding out, a beat-up rad counter that probably predates the war; it's the way she's offering it, with a soft protective look on her face. Anytime you wander into the engine room she seems eager to see you, glad to explain. And you seem to be wandering in there quite a lot.

"How much? We have a few caps..."

"I wouldn't charge anyone with a baby on the way for one of these."

"...that's not very Brotherhood, is it?"

Veronica screws up her face in a mock frown. "I've been reprimanded for much worse."

You both laugh; but it doesn't sit well with you, being indebted. "There must be something I can do for you, though. I'm a seamstress, I make fancy hats, any clothing you want that needs repairs..."

She goes unusually silent, absently wiping condensation on a panel with the cuff of her sleeve. "Okay. There is something I would absolutely love...if it isn't too much trouble for you. A dress. Just one sleek, gorgeous number I can put on sometimes and feel good about, because these Scribe robes? Great for punching and repair work, but sometimes you just want to be...a little more feminine. You know?"

"I can have one finished before we reach DC."

The sparkle in Veronica's eyes says that this'll be more than fair recompense.

*****

First order of business, you have to size her.

Which is where any lingering impressions that this might stay strictly on the barter level go up in smoke, because she giggles when you touch her, and your hands stray into the silky dark hair she won't let the boys see, and a tape measure winds itself coyly around your legs.

"Your husband won't mind? Only- I'd like to know if I'll be doing some punching later-"

"He's got two sweethearts bedding him already, and they don't even like girls. We're fine."

She nods and kisses you tenderly, lips that don't know five o'clock shadow brushing against your own, and it's like adolescence all over again, finding shadowy corners in the vault to try things out.

It isn't. She's responsive to your condition, letting you set the pace and moves, so careful not to give you the slightest cause for worry. You've fought and fretted and hiked over half the Mojave with your precious burden, because needs must; but with her it isn't like that, there's nothing you have to prove yourself equal to. When she caresses you in gentle protectiveness, it's like nothing else can hurt you.

Not that it's really like that, only for this little while, but- today and tomorrow, that's enough.

The dress starts to take form, pieced together from the best materials you have- she'll appreciate them like few of your customers ever have. Lining from a sexy sleepwear, because there's nothing on prewar fabrics for something that's easy on the skin but won't hold dirt or smell; you use a purple one, just right for undertones and perhaps an underskirt glimpse, if the voyeur peeps hard enough.

"Do we stop here?" Veronica asks, looking at herself in a sheer slip that would be outrageous for a Gomorrah stripper.

You laugh and bop her on the nose. "Not yet."

Over that goes the dress proper, simple enough, just fine NCR linen dyed a darkened red like Pinoy wine. Not skin-tight, you want it to be breathable for her, unrestricting if she wants to throw punches in it. Equipped with two deep pockets, trimmed with braided fire gecko hide.

That's not the best part. The best part is a hide that you've been saving, bought from a hunter who confessed he had no idea what it was he downed. Something like a coyote, but shot through with scales, and the fur had a way of rippling into transparency in a dim light.

You help Veronica put up her hair, build the hat around that and use what's left for dress trimmings, collar and a bit of the back. It's reckless; there's only this one hide, any mistakes are made for good.

Snip, snip. The days fly by in work and stitches, the nights in a glory of fulfilled desires.

"I miss Christine so much," Veronica admits one night. "She does things for the Brotherhood nobody else could, I'm so proud of her...but I miss her. She'll drop out of my world for months at a time, and I don't know what happened."

"That's why I'm not letting the boys go anywhere without me. Besides- if they would hesitate to take me, I don't want them running the risk either."

Veronica sighs, rolls closer towards you; you trace little patterns across her breasts with the tips of your fingers. "Sometimes I think I should be with her all the time- but this train, it's like I was built to tend the Pacific Flyer. Nobody could look after her like I do, and there's so much that still needs doing. I want to build a mobile workshop, I want to see if I can connect the station with the NCR lines...so I have my work, and Christine has hers, and we only get the moments in between. It's all right. But I miss her."

You kiss the hardened muscle of her punching arm, and feel glad it hasn't come to that with you and Boone.

*****

"There's something you should know about the station elevator, at DC. I know it works, but- I'm not sure you can get back. Or if it'll come back down again." Veronica tosses maize into Cow's manger, which is accepted placidly and without complaint.

"It's okay. We can't...we can't return to the Mojave. Whatever's there, we have to live with."

"I know. I'm just warning you." She puts the shovel down, picks up the muck rake. "You'll never get everyone plus a Brahmin in that elevator, so who gets left behind?"

It's an impossible question. Boone, your baby's father, the mere hope of whom gave your the strength to come back from the hell called Arizona. Manny who found you when you'd given up, flamed a street of slavers into the ground to save you, carried you back to the river. Arcade, who's giving your boys something they need and never knew to ask for, who's sacrificed everything he ever had for the safety of your group.

"Cow. I can't dream of any of us losing each other."

"I'll tend her for you, then," Veronica says; but with a heartbeat too long a delay, and you know she was offering you something more. A kind way out, life in this craft of sturdy metal like the vault that nurtured you.

It's an offer you can see someone else taking. Just not you.

"She likes being scratched behind both ears at once," you explain; and the rest will have to go unsaid.

*****

Manny whistles when he sees Veronica in the new dress; Boone admires the hat, awkwardly; Arcade doesn't seem to notice at all and pesters the engineer to help him with the specs for his holorifle.

Nobody here really sees how beautiful she is in it; but never mind. She knows.

And you know.

[vendeavendea]

How Entrapta Has Become My All Time Favourite Autistic Representation in Media: Long Version

Just so you know what to expect, this is more of a very long and boring personal post and less of a character analysis. By "very long", I mean "very long". Also, half of it was written at night when I was supposed to be sleeping (like, right now), so some parts might not even make sense. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Just days before I started to watch She-Ra, I answered a question in a writer group where someone asked what are the do's and don'ts of writing an autistic character. I've been told a couple of times in my life that I can’t be autistic based on the fact that I'm not really interested in or good at science, so I think special interests of autistic people are something that definitely has to be presented better in media. So I advised this person to make their character have a special interest that's NOT related to science, technology, space or computers, because it's a very common misconception that people on the autism spectrum are always into these stuff, and there are so many autistic fictional characters based on this stereotype that I feel like we absolutely don't need any more.

And then I saw Entrapta.

I didn't know she's canonically autistic until a much later episode, but it didn't surprise me when I was told she is, because my autism radar went off like a hundred times while watching System Failure and all her other season 1 appearances (so did my ADHD radar, by the way, but as far as I know, this hasn't been confirmed by the creators, so it's just my headcanon). And she looked like the purple ponytails princess version of the autism stereotype that I didn’t want to see any more of. The genius who is into space and robots, knows nothing about human relationships and keeps driving everyone nuts with her long and impossible-to-follow scientific monologues. Also cute and funny, yeah, but still, as someone on the spectrum who is super artistic and has nothing to do with science stuff, my first reaction was "dang, not this shit again." Just for once in my life, I wanted to see an autistic representation that's not just that typical weird tech-lover but a character that's at least a tiny bit more like me. Seeing her only in her first episode, little did I know that Entrapta's character has an incredible depth and her whole arc was going to be hair-raisingly personal to me (I know I'm not funny, but pun intended).

First, let’s talk about robots, because we can't talk about Entrapta without talking about robots. Entrapta builds robots just for fun, because technology is her thing, but there's actually a lot more behind this. Starting from as early as her debute episode, we see through the whole series that she creates robots with different designs, abilities, personalities, very similar to real people, as a sort of substitute for the human (or whatever species) company she'd wish to have. She even gives them names. She programs them to like being around her, to understand her, something that she hasn't really experienced from real people, which is sad enough on its own, but even sadder if we consider that she actually has human staff working at her fortress. She pretty literally makes friends, and she does it with the help of her special interest. And this totally reminds me of my primary school years when I had zero real friends and used my special interest, which was writing fictional stories and creating worlds/universes/languages in my head, to make up imaginary characters that could be my "friends" so that I wouldn't be that lonely.

Then, her interactions with other characters, especially with Hordak. Entrapta consoling Hordak in Huntara is a very powerful scene to me, not only what she says, but also how she says it. When Hordak starts venting about how he is a failure and all, Entrapta's first immediate response is to provide a practical solution, to design an armor for him, and comforting him with words is only a secondary action. She's helping in her own way, with technology, because that's what she's the best at, but she also wants to make sure he understands that fixing imperfections isn't always the solution, embracing them is. I also love how it's hinted with the "loved" crystal that Entrapta's love language may be acts of service (and probably quality time as well), which is another thing we have in common. And there's another thing in that scene I found very relatable: that part when she stops consoling him and starts to talk about herself being a failure instead. In real life, most people would read that in a negative way. I've been in many situations where I've tried doing something similar to people who were venting to me, and normally, they're like "ew, I'm the one complaining now, stop making it about you." But Hordak's reaction is different, all he does is try to tell her she's not a failure before she shushes him, then he just listens. He understands what Entrapta means by saying all those things about herself isn't "hey, look, my life is also horrible, so I get to complain, too" but rather "I feel you, we're the same". For a person who thinks and acts as differently from average people as Entrapta does, connecting with someone through similar experiences and feelings is a huge thing, and this is so relatable to me that I cried like a baby while watching that scene. Also, kudos to Christine Woods for making Entrapta's monologue sound so factual and casual. It really gives the impression of someone who is fully aware of her own strengths and weaknesses and accepts herself as a whole with all her flaws. The way she lists all the things that make her feel like a failure right after saying "imperfection is beautiful" is just... wow. But seriously, this whole "imperfection is beautiful" thing in general is such a cliché that it's not even supposed to work on me, but hell it does, because it's so well-presented that it's actually one of the most powerful moments of the whole series. Entrapta giving me self-acceptance lessons is all I've ever needed in my life (Hordak probably agrees, lol).

Speaking of self-acceptance, I also love how Beast Island shows that it's a long and difficult process with its ups and downs instead of just a door you walk through once in your life and then stay on the other side forever. Even if I accept and love myself the way I am, it's still totally normal to have low points with thoughts like "I'm not suited for friendship" or "everyone leaves me behind". And it's very nice and uplifting to have someone's love and support when I'm in a bad mood with stuff like this on my mind, but personally, I often find it easier to deal with if I have something related to any of my special interests around that I can focus my thoughts on. My "we flew here on an ancient First Ones ship, do you wanna see it?" would be something like "do you wanna create some characters and then write the shit out of them?" and before this show I've never actually realised how neurodiverse it is to use a hobby or interest for self-care like this. The "definitely the ship" part called me out so hard, and I just adore how the writers were able put so much meaning into a single joke line.

Back to interactions, there's also something painfully relatable in the way the other princesses treat Entrapta. Even in the beginning in No Princess Left Behind, but mostly in season 4 and 5. In most cases, Entrapta is only considered to be worthy enough to not be left behind in situations when her skills are useful. Other characters "liking" her isn't really about herself as a person but her tech knowledge. Just like when you go to school and the only reason your classmates want to make friends with you is because you always do your homework and let others copy it, or you're good at explaining stuff and are willing to help people getting prepared for tests/exams. When I was in grammar school, my classmates ignored me or mocked me for liking animation and comics, but every now and then they did the bare minimum of treating me like a human being and expected me to do their arts homework in return, because I was the only one in my class who was good at arts. When I studied linguistics at the uni, I was really into phonology and historical linguistics, and those were the compulsory subjects most of the other students were struggling with, so many people wanted to hang out with me just to make sure they could get my notes before the exams. The same people kept calling me nerd and making fun of me behind my back. I also had a few genuine friends, which I'm grateful for, but I still know what it feels like to be needed only for a specific skill while not being noticed and respected as a person, and Launch portraits this experience in a very clever way. It's so amazing to see how the princesses realise who Entrapta really is and start to treat her as someone who just thinks differently instead of someone who's a deliberate bad person. They finally get to see that she's not just an unwary tech nerd, but also a determined, caring and loyal friend who gives others so much love in her own geeky way and deserves love, too. But I shouldn't even be surprised, I mean, we're talking about a show that teaches us "you worth more than what you can give to other people," and it's great how this message applies to other characters as well, not only to Adora. And the best part is that this whole conflict is not presented as something black and white, it's not like Entrapta is the poor misunderstood autistic person and the princesses are the evil allistic bad guys who mistreat her. It's simply a miscommunication between neurotypical and neurodivergent individuals, and while the other princesses get to understand that they hurt Entrapta by their actions and that they should be more respectful of her, Entrapta also realises that she's made mistakes and hurt people, becomes aware of her own bad habits and makes efforts to get rid of them in order to save Glimmer. Plus I also love the faint implication that most of the princesses never really, genuinely, 100% make friends with Entrapta even after this scene, because sometimes people just don't resonate with each other enough to become close friends, but they learn to accept her differences and treat her with respect, nonetheless. This episode is so full of realistic interactions and character development it blows my mind every time I rewatch it.

I could just go on and on about all those tiny relatable details such as "I've waited years for someone to ask me about my theories!" I think this was the line that first made me fall in love with Entrapta's character. I mean, if someone from the crew wrote this line, that means they might know the feeling, too, so I'm not the only dork who feels this way every time someone asks me a question about my hyperfixations. And it's just so reassuring. Entrapta has many lines of the kind, they're not even important plotwise, but still super relatable and validating.

Now that we're here, and I know that I probably should have said this at the beginning of the post, but I'm too lazy to rewrite the first paragraph accordingly, I'd like to note that these are all my own interpretations and reflections on Entrapta's character based on my own experiences. This whole thing is totally personal, and I don't want anyone to think that this is how Entrapta is supposed to be seen by the whole fandom. So yeah, that's pretty much it for now.

[roosie121]

Prompt: E/C and chocolates :3

Forgive the time that has lapsed since you sent this request...I started a full-time position recently and it has been too stressful to train and learn the ropes. Now that I’m successfully trained in, it’s easier to write some stuff when business is slow (and, thanks to Miss Corona, that is basically always).

But, enough of my boring life. I hope you enjoy the prompt!

- - - 

Loathe as he was to admit it, the child was wasting away.

She had always been a petite girl, though never malnourished or sickly in appearance. He found it appealing, truly, just how delicate she had always been, and was assured that the girl did hold an appetite. She was a dancer, of course, and though she adored her sweets and pastries he often doted on her with, it never showed on her sylphic limbs.

Now, she showed little interest in food, and the poor thing was losing weight she did not have to spare.

It had been a month since she agreed to be his bride, since her wobbling lips uttered her reluctant vows and her glassy eyes pleaded for some shred of mercy.

He had none.

The satisfaction Erik hoped to gain in claiming Christine as his bride was unsatisfactory. He could have predicted her moody, withdrawn behavior in the first week or so, but he had truly believed she would acclimate and accept the situation for what it was. Instead, she stayed in her room, the door shut, and though he knocked frequently throughout the day to offer food, refreshments, or even entertainment (in the form of playing, no doubt), she vehemently refused to show herself. Though this came to be a maddening response, it was fortunate, for it at least convinced him she had yet to kill herself.

Give the girl time, he told himself, as he worked himself into a frustration over being refused for the umpteenth time. He had to force himself away from her door, into the parlor, just to ensure he did not break down the door and wring her swan neck for disobeying his commands. He would never hurt her.

Well, not intentionally, anyway.

In the time that had lapsed since the night of their wedding, he had only seen her once, and it was enough to stir worry. Her eyes and cheeks were sunken, her lips pale as if she suffered a great illness. He demanded she allow him to check her over, and just running his bare palm against her white forehead was exhilarating. Still, she did not possess a fever, and so he allowed her on her way, with the promise she would eat the bread and butter he had prepared her.

Still, her plight for dramatics was beginning to irritate. Erik was apt to believe she was doing it all just to vex him!

Well, she had succeeded!

He had long ago gotten a gift. for his wife, perhaps a day or so after they wed. But seeing her sour attitude, he chose to hold it for when she would be willing to accept. Now was as good a time as ever. With an exasperated knock, Erik called into the doorframe, “My dear, are you decent?”

There was a pause, long enough to make him suck in a breath of despair. She had done it. She had successfully wasted away, and what would be left for him? A pathetic ring upon his finger, a marriage certificate that meant nothing next to that of death!

And then, “Erik, I do wish you would leave me alone.”

He took this as a sufficient answer, and opened the door (of which had long since been void of a lock), meeting her horrified expression. To both their relief, she was dressed, albeit in a night dress and robe.

“Erik-”

“Stupid girl. What a pitiful display of dramatics this is,” Erik scoffed, looking over her gaunt appearance. Still, it broke his heart that his own love and adoration had led her to such despair. His angel was killing herself, slowly and devastatingly. “For such a pretty head, it truly is filled with stupidity. Did you think refusing to eat or take care of yourself would convince me to let you go?”

She looked away, scornfully, her lower lip and chin jutted out like a pouting child, and tightened the robe over her chest. “I do not want anything from you.”

“You have mentioned,” he tutted, and without another word, took her frail hand and tugged her out of her room. She released a terrible cry, as if his touch was a hot iron, and tried to wrench herself from him, and with all the malnourishment, it was astonishing just how much strength she still possessed!

“Your Erik only wants to take care of his precious wife,” he said, pushing her down to a seat before going to rummage in his drawers for what he sought. “Has he not been a perfect gentleman? He did not touch you on his wedding night. Even when such was his right as your husband.”

Disgusted, Christine watched with wide eyes, reminded why she had locked herself away. His words greatly disturbed her, and at least in her room, she was able to shut him out.

When his eyes burned into her’s for response, she looked away, refusing to give him even the treat of eye contact. “It was greatly appreciated.”

Satisfied with this, he went back to his scavenging, and grinned when he found his treasure. A beautiful velvet box, bedecked with a satin bow.

“Christine has not been a very doting wife,” he reprimanded, kneeling before her. With all her might, she shoved herself into the cushions, as if they would absorb and help her escape. “All the same, Erik has noticed her poor condition, and he believes he has found the perfect antidote.”

Now, he shoved the parcel into her hands, and demanded, “Open.”

Trembling, she did as she was told, removing the bow and the lid, only to peer confusedly at the contents.

“Chocolates?”

He smiled again, this time holding his fingers to her chin. “I recall how fond you were of sweets, my dear girl.”

Then, he slid his hand down to her neck, and put just enough pressure to force her to look at him.

“Now eat.”

- - -

I KNOW I KNOW. It is darker than I am sure you intended, but I could not help myself. I have been DYING for a dark prompt and unfortunately I took your’s as sacrifice.

But thank you so much for sending! I’ll be keeping up more with prompts from now on, so feel free to keep sending in prompts/requests!

[talltales]

pair:   jaebeom / reader desc:   'i love you,' she thinks         and it's just like old times words:  2.4k+ rated:  14+ genre:  romance notice: attempts at fluff thanks: to christine, for helping me get this far gifted: to chloe. happy birthday baby!! this is all for you.

            —YOU COULD BE HAPPY; I HOPE YOU ARE                 YOU MADE ME HAPPIER THAN I'D BEEN BY FAR

                                    it takes no less than three lifetimes to get it right.

- one -

winter is a breath away. it descends on the last remnants of autumn with grace; the leaves fall away in the mornings, and the stars glimmer all that much brighter in the dusk. she longs for the sun, for the afternoons when it lingered long enough to cast the skies in brilliant tones of gold.

“your meal is prepared,” comes a muted voice from her side. the handmaiden stands outside the sliding doors, her hands clasped loosely at her front. it is an old, familiar posture; one she had to unlearn as the eras passed, from one rebirth to the next.

in her first, she’d been his servant. he lingers at the ends of her memory, nameless. but in all her lifetimes, she has never forgotten the warmth of his fingertips.

quietly, she rises to her feet and offers the girl a faint smile.

“thank you,” she murmurs as she passes, because she recalls the feeling of callouses on the tips of her fingers and the dizzying sensation of walking on eggshells, “you are dismissed.”

with her permission, the girl vanishes down the corridor.

and she turns to regard the opaque screen; steps close until the bottom is pressed to the tips of her toes. this era is all too similar to their first. a feudal one filled to the brim with dirt, tears and ruin. the lords squabble over land and the power that it promises. and despite occupying this delicate body for sixteen years, she is unaccustomed to living in their midst, not as a servant but as part of them; their flesh and blood.

respected. adored. and it means nothing, when he is still out of reach.

her pulse flitters about like a caged bird. she is aware of his presence in inexplicable ways—as if he is the gravity that keeps her bound to earth. maybe it’s the other way around, since she is the one that always remembers.

he is inside.

she opens her eyes—unaware that they had even fallen shut—and steps beyond the threshold. the table set before her is heavy with dishes and fragrant cups of tea. a waste, since she is eating alone.

with a sidelong look, she examines him. ever silent, he adjusts the sword tied to his hip and—if possible—straightens even more. the metals on his uniform glimmer in the candlelight and this, she thinks, is the closest he’s ever been to the man she met many lifetimes ago.

even as a common guard, he easily takes command of her attention.

“milady,” he greets her, a deep timbre that resonates with memory so fully that her breath catches. if there is anything that has not changed, it is the sound of his voice.

if he notices the faltering of her movements as she kneels before her table, he doesn’t comment. her nameless guard is a stoic man, self-assured and able. she feels his gaze fall upon her back; feels the afterglow of it on the curve of her neck.

“what is your name?” she inquires, keeping her eyes fixed on the spread before her. carefully, she picks up her utensils and takes her first bite. it is a delicious waste of effort and precious resources.

when she looks back, he is thoughtful—seemingly weighing the merit of answering. the twin moles perched over his eye shift with the furrowing of his brow.

“haejin,” he says, after a minute.

but that isn’t right.

though it should be something that she expected, when her name has changed more times than she cares to count.

“haejin,” she tests it out on her tongue, finding it unfamiliar but not entirely unpalatable, “thank you for sharing.”

he appears to be at a loss for words—either for the ease with which she speaks to him as an equal, or the way her eyes sparkle with humor.

“you’re welcome, milady,” he breathes out, lips quirking into the smallest of smiles. it is a first, for all the time that he’s trailed after her, as silent as her shadow, and just as close.

it takes weeks to draw forth a real smile and this, she concludes, is what trying to bleed a stone must feel like.

haejin-ah, she calls him when they’re alone, just to watch the flush of his cheeks in the cool sunlight. she takes pleasure in disarming him—peeling away the layers of consternation that make him seem much older than he really is.

it is startlingly easy to make him blush.

she makes him laugh, eventually. three months into their unconventional friendship, she tells an off-color joke and witnesses the gradual shift in him. his shoulders shake before the sound erupts from his lips—full of mirth, tinged with disbelief.

she thinks she could live the rest of her wasteful life with this man.

when he is sent to the front lines of her lord father’s campaign and dies in the dirt, haejin is given a perfunctory mention for his efforts. his body is buried in the countryside with no marker.

somehow, she manages the journey back to her chambers before she falls apart.

- two -

like lazarus, he rises again.

but this time—thankfully—he is no soldier.

he is a watchmaker. it is by coincidence that she stumbles into his orbit. but it is no accident when she enters his small shop, accompanied by the jingling of bells over her head. the telltale fluttering of her heartbeat confirms his identity before he turns from his small desk and gives her a welcoming smile.

the sign on the door tells her that his name is jaehyun.

“hello,” his glasses are perched low on his nose—tiny things made for his work. he raises a hand to take them off and sets them aside, before rolling his sleeves to his elbows, “what can i do for you today?”

there are the faintest hints of wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. it has taken longer than expected to find him, though it isn’t for lack of trying. he is as beautiful as he’d been at nineteen; her haejin had died young—

this iteration of him, her nameless lover, has lived a fuller life.

his wedding band clinks against the counter.

too late.

it’s hard to tell, he may be in his late thirties. maybe his forties. she’s twenty-two, and this, she thinks, is why she missed him this time.

“i have a pocket watch that i would like you to look at,” his hand turns palm up, ready to accept the broken thing. she pulls it from the pocket of her dress and sets it within his grasp. “it’s very important to me.”

he nods, “i’ll take care of it, miss—”

“just miss is fine.”

he is undeterred.

she busies herself with flipping through the paper folded in front of her, though her eyes register little more than the gleam of silver wrapped around his ring finger. for his part, he takes just a moment to examine the item—some old thing she’d picked up at a thrift shop—while humming a tune under his breath.

his melody matches that of the soft jazz emanating from the record player in the corner.

“good news,” he says, and his eyes crinkle at the edges as he grins, perhaps playfully, “i think i can save it.”

she longs to grow old with him, just once.

“how much will it cost?” running her fingertips along the edge of the paper, she maintains a steady focus on the man as he pauses, turning to consult a ledger sitting on his desk. he sings to himself while flipping to the first page, where several prices line the left side of the paper.

he turns back and runs a hand through his hair. his forearms flex with the movement.

she inhales deeply around the knot in her throat. those hands will not touch her, not in this lifetime.

“6,000 won,” he answers, and her disbelief must show clearly, because he laughs—and her world tilts sideways, because it has been too many lifetimes since she’s heard the sound.

silently, she laces her fingers together and prays for strength.

“that’s ridiculous,” through her lashes, she observes him; this joyful and familiar stranger tucked away in his little shop, unmoved as the world passes him by. he belongs in this time.

she does not.

“maybe, but i won’t charge you more,” he sobers, examining her with an intensity that makes her think—hope—that he recognizes her this time. that this time, he’s fallen into her orbit.

“why?” her curiosity prompts her to ask the soft-spoken question. all the while, she swallows her expectations before they swell. the edge of the counter presses into her stomach as she leans forward, “why would you do that for me?”

“because you seem sad, miss,” he says, and it is an effort to stifle her sigh. instead, she hums; manages enough of a smile to visibly set him at ease.

“well then, i have no choice but to accept.”

forty minutes later, she leaves him with a quiet thanks and a like-new pocket watch dangling from her fingertips. the chain clinks, the clock ticks, and she walks away from the humble shop on the corner without looking back.

her eyes close, without permission—

she dies a little inside.

- three -

time, it appears, is dragging him further away from her with each of his rebirths. their little piece of the world is now something bigger; interconnected in ways she’d never dreamed of.

but the internet, she muses, is no substitute for the magnetism of the physical world.

too often, they are separated by decades and continents—

and always, always by the spectre of death.

this time, however, he finds her. and this time, she chooses to keep close, but to leave him be.

her heart is weary, after so many lifetimes.

“is there any way that i can ask a favor of you?”

for a moment, she wonders if it is now—when she is holding onto the last vestiges of hope—that his soul at last recognizes hers. then he laughs, shuffling a hand through the hair at his nape.

quietly, she places the pile of folders she is holding onto her desk. he waits patiently for her full attention, watching her sort through ungraded tests and quizzes with all the enthusiasm of a dead man approaching the gallows. when she’s satisfied with the controlled chaos that is her workload, she turns to face him—leaning against the desk with her arms crossed loosely over her chest.

“what can i do for you, jaebeom?”

this time, his name feels right.

he starts at the question, appearing to snap out of his own thoughts—smiling a bit sheepishly, at that. ”ah, sorry. i was wondering if i could get your help on that astronomy exam coming up...” his gaze drops to the stack of manila folders behind her, “but i can understand if you don’t have the time.”

quietly, she regards him. he is the closest echo of his first soul that she’s ever seen. shy and kind, a little strange—if the stories about him having five cats are to be believed—but the focus in his eyes is haejin. the dexterity he utilizes to twirl his pen between his fingers is jaehyun.

he is whole, this time.

“i don’t mind,” her lips curve into a smile before she thinks about it, taking note of the way he releases the breath that he looks to have been holding, “relieved?”

and jaebeom blinks at her, face reddening faintly as he shuffles his bag further onto his shoulder, “yeah. i’m not sure i’d pass this class without your help.”

“what a flattering lie,” her hand lifts, brushing away the remnants of autumn leaves clinging to his jacket, “you’d be fine.”

his eyes follow the movement, before he reaches out to tug her wrist.

“and what better time than now?”

faintly, she wonders if it is at all appropriate to follow his lead—to let herself walk down the path that he’s laid at her feet. the click of her heels echoes down the hall as they emerge from her office—a closet that the teachers assistants get shoved into while doing the busywork of their superiors.

he glances over his shoulder at her, before turning and walking backward through the otherwise empty corridors, “would you mind if we grabbed something to eat? off campus.”

she resists the urge to smile.

cute.

humming, she feigns deep thought. her fingers dance across her chin as she observes him from the corner of her eye; perhaps unconsciously, jaebeom wrings the hem of his shirt with his free hand. it strikes her, how similarly her young lord had looked when he’d asked her to sneak away with him—

and their journey has come full circle.

“if you treat.” it’s a tease, but he nods just the same.

- last -

“sirius is actually a binary star, you know.”

of course she does, but she refrains from commenting—he is half-awake at this hour, face partially buried in his pillows. his mind is expelling the random facts he’s consumed in the past three months like material from a dying star, “yeah?”

“mmm,” he tilts his head, contemplating her with half-lidded eyes. she suspects he’s on his way to a deep slumber; though the sun shines brightly over his shoulder, warming the sheets pooled over their laps, “it’s the brightest star in the night sky, but there are actually two components.”

this time, she indulges him—reciting his notes with a soft smile.

“sirius a, the brighter star, and its white dwarf companion, sirius b.” quietly, she reaches up to run her fingers through his hair.

he leans into the touch, exhaling as his eyes fall shut, “right.”

it makes sense, that he would be the brighter half of their binary system—that it is her, chasing after him with quiet determination.

they slip into a comfortable silence, and she listens to the steady sound of his breath; feels it fanning lightly across her face. the sun is setting at his back, outlining his features in shades of muted gold.

what a beautiful boy, she thinks.

when his eyes open, hazy—his cheeks dusted in pink—she realizes that she’s spoken aloud.

jaebeom dips his head as his smile grows, pressing his face into the sheets in a poor effort to hide. she watches with equal parts humor and awe, love-struck by the glimpses of her old love in the crinkling of his nose.

“i’m not a boy,” he mumbles, and she hums; bites back her laughter.

“i know.” she touches his cheek lightly, pressing her forehead to his, “i know.”

i love you, she nearly says, but it isn’t time yet—

she comforts herself with the knowledge that now, they have all the time in the world.

[gaiapaia]

Kermit and Friends: Regulus

This week’s special guest was Aaron Ozee, author of the very popular children’s book Regulus. The book was such a hit that it was made into an animated film, also titled Regulus. You can purchase the book here and rent or buy a digital version of the film here.

Regulus is about a ‘Rat King’ who refuses to share his cheese with the mice he considers beneath him. Unfortunately for the Rat King, he loses his King status and the bully then becomes the bullied. 

The book has a very strong anti-bullying message, and Elisa’s first question to Aaron Ozee was about that. Aaron would explain how he was bullied growing up and how it deeply affected him in a bad way, only then to use it as motivation in an effort to help others going through the same kind of bullying he suffered as a kid.

Bullying would be a strong theme throughout the rest of the show. Elisa got bullied for the shirt she wore, she was verbally abused by her fiancé, accused of exploitation by a moron, dogged by multiple KAF Wrap-Up show hosts... I mean, Elisa was catching flack from all angles this week for little to no reason. It was unbelievable and a bit disheartening if you’re like myself and care about Elisa.

Andy Dick is simply out of control. After trying to con Elisa out of $650 earlier in the week, he called her a “Fat whore” among other horrible names at The Grove in front of strangers and children on Saturday. He even got his ‘boyfriend’ Lucas to join in on the harassment. Just an awful situation that no one deserves, especially Elisa who has treated Andy like absolute gold these last couple of months.

Elisa finally seemed fed up with Andy’s abuse, but it wouldn’t last long. After claiming she was done with him, Andy actually appeared on the show just as Elisa was getting ready to end it. He was being nice and I could tell right away that Elisa would let him back in her good graces.

Andy would give a half-assed apology for his actions from the previous day, only then to call Elisa crazy and psychotic, only again to apologize after that. Elisa not only accepted his apologies but then offered to take him out to eat after the show. It seemed like she wanted to shift all the blame on to that Lucas guy, letting Andy completely off the hook.

People who don’t like Elisa will look at this behavior and call her weak, or they will say she’s hanging on to Andy no matter what he does just because he’s famous. The idiots who say that would be very wrong.

Elisa doesn’t have an angle. She’s been in abusive relationship after abusive relationship. I’m afraid Elisa doesn’t love herself so she’s more attracted to people that treat her like crap. Elisa will turn 33 in June so she’s old enough where this isn’t some wild young woman phase. My theory is subconsciously Elisa believes she deserves the abuse. It could possibly stem from her parents shipping her off to a demonic boarding school where it stuck with Elisa that sort of treatment is what she deserves in this life. She doesn’t deserve it, though. Not at all.

Elisa may not agree with me but I feel I’m right about this because I’m speaking from personal experience. I deal with the same self-loathing issues I believe Elisa has, but it’s easy for me to sit here and say Elisa should start loving herself more than to look in the mirror and tell myself the same. One of the many reasons why I will never look at Elisa in a bad light is because I can relate to the inner-struggle she’s been going through all these years. I just wish there was a way Elisa could see herself in the same spectacular light I see her in.

Elisa talked about these grandiose visions she had of herself and Andy, being featured on the cover of Forbes magazine, creating hit music, starring in movies... the works.

Just think about this... if you’re reading this blog, you already know how talented Elisa is, even if you don’t like her. You know she’s already achieved a level of success that not 1% of the population will achieve in the entertainment industry. So why does she need someone like Andy freakin’ Dick in order to vision herself on the cover of Forbes magazine? Imagine if Elisa set the goal without a man or anyone else’s help by her side... could she do it? I 100% believe she could if she gave it her all. I understand success isn’t anywhere near as fulfilling when you don’t have anyone to share it with, but you should at least strive to share your success with someone who treats you well.

Anyways, I apologize for jumping out of the review to share my personal feelings. I’m not happy with Andy, I’m not happy with that relationship. I want Elisa to have fun and create a show she can be proud of. It’s easier to accomplish that with a wacky outgoing famous guy like Andy Dick, I get that... but at this point, in my opinion, it’s not worth it if this is how Andy is going to treat Elisa.

Elisa is a grown woman though capable of making her own decisions. I will always love Elisa and wish the best for her because I know she has a beautiful heart/soul and her intentions are always good. There’s more I want to say about the situation but I’ll move on.

Back to Aaron Ozee... he gave a fantastic interview. He’s a very positive guy with big goals but also humble and polite. T-Bob tried to ruffle Aaron’s feathers with a couple of asinine questions about Black Lives Matter, and Aaron couldn’t have handled it more eloquently, even winning Trumpster Bob over (no easy feat). I was extremely impressed. On top of that, Aaron was respectful and non-judgmental to every KAF regular he talked to. Just a truly swell guy and I hope to see him more often on the show.

Kermit made a couple of new friends this week. One was Johnny B’s alter ego, Joannie B. Think Robin Williams as Mrs. Doubtfire and that’s Joannie B. Very humorous stuff. A guy in some kind of Star Wars helmet named White Kanye also made his debut on Kermit and Friends. Apparently he’s been in some escapades with Andy Dick and told some stories. Unfortunately, it was impossible to tell if he was being truthful.

Chris Christine blessed the show with her presence again. She opened up about the 20 years she spent in the American military and how it led to some traumatic mental anguish. Chris credited an Andy Dick Cameo she received as to why she didn’t commit suicide a couple of years ago. She was incredibly sweet and even offered to pay Andy that $650 I mentioned above. Chris also said a lovely prayer for Elisa and Andy. What a sweet soul Chris is all around, she’s easily one of my new favorites.

Sharmin and Dr. Roy joined us in Miami. They’ve been having a vacation together and they helped Elisa sort through her feelings regarding Andy. It was awesome to see them having fun and looking so happy.

Eric Riggs had another sex video presented on the show, this time involving a pen and his rear end. Eric called in and made Elisa shut off the video before the conclusion. He was fine with last week’s sex tape but I guess this week he felt embarrassed. Eric would later read a poem about some woman named Mindy that owes him money, which also somehow involved Elisa’s vagina and horseradish. One of the weirdest poems I’ve ever heard but hey... that’s Kermit and Friends.

Barry “Boss” Mezey called into the show to accuse Elisa of exploiting Kermit’s friends. Barry fails to realize that Elisa gives a platform to literally anyone who wants to make use of it, and the people who garner the most interest from the audience are the people Elisa will feature the most, just like every other reality show in human existence. Barry’s phone calls could not have been more wrong, shame on him.

Lastly, Elisa sort of snapped this week on a chatter by the name of Nikki. Nikki criticized Elisa’s shirt and then said she could have a more popular show than Kermit and Friends if she tried. I think Elisa had some pent up frustration regarding Andy and sort of it took it out on Nikki, which by my estimation Nikki honestly deserved anyway. I just wish Elisa had that same fire not to put up with Andy’s BS. But Nikki has said some very mean things about Elisa in the past, both on Discord and on other Kermitarian related streams, so it’s not like Elisa attacked some innocent princess who made one bad comment. Nikki can be funny but she’s not a nice person at all, so while I commend Elisa for apologizing and feeling guilty over her words to Nikki... sometimes the bully gets bullied just like in Regulus.

The show ended with Elisa playing yet another tremendously creative music video from her talented co-host, Sugar. Overall it was a good show. The interview with Aaron was very professional and well done, and the Andy stuff I’m certain was entertaining for most people. KAF continues to deliver every week, just as I’m sure it will next week. 'Til then, I sincerely thank everyone for reading and I hope you all have a superb week... well, unless your name is Andy Dick, in which case you deserve a very bad week with another bite to the face from my main man Fozzie.

[gwenore]

The Demon’s Opera house. Chapter 14.

Chapter 14: After having shared a kiss Christine feels she wants to be closer with him, but Erik fears for his own demonic nature. 

Note: Now I have reached the point to which I have uploaded on AO3, so tomorrow there will be a new and very SPICY chapter uploaded here on tumblr.

---

Christine did not know how long that they were seated like that, Erik’s head rested on her shoulder, with his arms resting around her waist. He was gentle, moving his fingers slowly as if to make certain this was just not some hallucination. He was careful, so that he would not hurt her. She really did not mind, allowing her hand to gently move up and down his back over that heavy wool coat that he always seemed to wear.

She knew that he needed this. Had he ever known a kind touch?

It certainly did not seem like he had fond memories of his mother… so it could very well be. especially as she doubted that his father had been very involved in his life…

Slowly he started to remove himself, using his human hand to dry his eyes and doing his best to gather himself. He had never wanted to have her see him like that. To allow those emotions which he had attempted to banish into the darkest part of himself.

But… she had blindsided him…

That she would be willing to do something like that…

He could hardly believe it. Of course that he had dreamed of it… since he heard her sing he it had been part of his deepest darkest fantasies… but he had never imagined that it could be reality.

And she had… even swearing that he had not made her to do it.

So… then it was willing…?

He still was certain that had to be some sort of impossibility… that his mind had finally deluded himself into believing in his own desperate imaginations.

“Perhaps we should turn in early… it has been a long day after all…” Christine suggested, seeing that he was still rather exhausted and she could use some rest herself.

“Yes… I believe that could be a good idea…” he stood up and offering his hand to her. Christine accepted his hand, allowing him to help her stand up.

“Well… best I get dressed,” she still held his hand as she moved towards the room which had been repurposed as a dresser. Erik followed her as he would, usually to make certain that the candles were still lit and to have his lingering body heat aid her as she changed.

In the room after making certain that everything was as it should and her moving towards the dressing screen after having picked up her nightgown, Erik moved towards the door, as were their usual routine.

“Erik…”

Her voice made him stop before he glanced over at her.

“Could you… stay?”

The demon had to blink his eyes in shock. He was now starting to seriously wonder about what he was dreaming.

Christine noticed the uncertainty in his eyes, crossing her arms, pressing her dress to her chest as she continued to observe him.

“Are you… are you certain?” he had to confirm.

“It is rather cold in here… you are rather effective when it comes to heating up the room,” she explained. It had of course always been like this… so Erik was not certain why it was brought up like this.

“I do not really care for being cold,” she shrugged his shoulders.

“As you wish,” Erik lowered his hands, but turned his body towards the door so that he would not see her in a compromising position. Unless she herself invited him to.

Christine gave a soft smile, before she went behind the screen. She did not worry her at all that he would sneak a peak, which a lot of men would have tried to.

But he was different…

She had began to realize that.

Slowly she undressed, feeling that the room for once was actually comfortable, and she had no need to hurry when undressing since she was so cold and she felt her toes were in danger of falling off.

“It is a bit odd though… that you can heat up a room, yet I do not burn myself when I touch you?” she questioned as she took the nightgown on.

“I must confess that I do not myself know entirely… I am aware that I am warm to the touch, however… there haven’t really been someone who has been close to me as you have now. It would be truly distressing for me however should you be hurt by my touch…” he said with a soft whisper.

“Well… your blood runs a lot hotter than your skin. When… you know… that happened… and I tried to stem the bleeding, I was burned…” she explained as she straightened the nightgown.

“I apologize…” Erik glanced down at his clawed hand, feeling horrible that his demonic side had been hurting her, even when he wasn’t aware.

“Well… it isn’t as you can control the temperature of your blood after all…” Christine said as she gave him a soft smile, as she poked out her head from the screen. His body was still turned with his side towards her, but he slowly moved his head before he dared to meet her eyes.

“I suppose…” he murmured softly.

“And down here I suppose it is needed…” she said as she went back behind the screen as she slowly let down her hair, having it flow over her shoulders.

“Indeed… I do not know how it is to be cold,” he said. “I mean… I have read about it… however… I have always been burning…” Erik glanced down at his hand. Christine taking a step out from the screen before she walked over towards the demon, reaching over towards his clawed hand and gently took it into her own.

“At least that means you can warm up a room nicely,” she attempted to comfort him. Erik let out a soft laugh.

“I suppose that you are right about that…” he whispered softly.

“Let us just go to bed? We need some rest…” she dared to give him another smile. Erik nodded slowly.

“As you wish…” he could only stand in awe of her as she lead him out of the dressing room.

 ---

Christine was getting herself under the covers, gathering the black silken blanket around herself as the lights went out.

“Will I ever see your face?” she moved her hair away from her face, trying to see him despite it being impossible due to the total darkness.

Even in that dark she could feel Erik freeze, those glowing eyes meeting hers where she lay.

“I… I do not know. There is no need to subject yourself to something so foul…” he muttered. “The mask… it helps us both…”

“I can handle it…” she said, listening to how he was changing his clothes. “I was… just surprised…”

“You were repulsed,” Erik stated, with Christine sitting herself up the black silken blanket slowly slipping from her body.

“Erik I…”

“I do not blame you,” he interrupted her. “You could not help it. It is human nature after all… to shun something so foul.”

Christine swallowed. “You are so much more than that Erik… and I know you now… I didn’t know you then… I do not believe I would be fearful this time… because… even that part… it is just part of you.”

Erik continued to remain silent. “I am not ready…” he then confessed. “I think it would break me if you were to do what comes natural now… to recoil in horror from me. To see that look on your face again when I have seen you grace me with such kindness… I cannot bear it…”

Christine had to blink some tears away from the corner of her eyes.

“I am sorry that I hurt you so much Erik… I truly did not mean it,” she whispered softly. Again he shook his head.

“No… you have nothing to apologize for… you were just reacting as expected… and I have been acting quite… foul… I find it quite a miracle that you do not despise me for what I have put you through…” he then confessed.

Christine swallowed before shrugging her shoulders.

“I choose to forgive you Erik… but I do ask that you trust me… I understand you are not comfortable with me seeing your face… but if we are going to do… well this… you do have to trust me…” she then said.

She felt as if she could practically hear him fiddle with his fingers, knowing without seeing that his eyes were cast towards the floor.

“I am trying… believe me… I am…”

“I know…” Christine smiled softly. “I know. But… let us try to get some rest now… no use thinking too much right now…”

Erik nodded slowly. “Yes… I believe that is a good idea…”

Christine then felt him move onto the bed, feeling the mattress move under his weight before he settled down, again with plenty of space between him and her.

It seemed that it would take him some time before he would search out closeness… even if Christine was now certain that he desired it, remembering how he reacted when she had reached out to trace the human bit of his face.

So… she moved closer to him, feeling that source of heat against her body, reaching out her hand in the darkness where she felt his chest.

The demon was now practically holding his breath, she seeing how his red eyes were staring so deeply into her own.

She had come to adore those eyes. At first she had feared them… they were after all so unnatural, but now she had come to think of them as otherworldly and she felt as if she could look into them for hours.

They deeply fascinated her…

They seemed to show the duality of this man. That infernal glow coming from something that showed that deep and sensitive soul which laid behind.

Christine had read so many books about romance… so many stories about a woman being saved by the love of her life. Love was so easy in those book. Clean and certain… where there were no doubt and difficulties once they were together.

Christine leaned a bit closer.

She had already figured that what the books said were lies. Love wasn’t like that. But she didn’t quite know what love was if it wasn’t like that.

But she had come to realize that she felt… something for this man. It was messy… and uncertain… and she could not keep from feeling so full of doubt.

She had kissed him…

She had been so lost in his beautiful voice and music that… for a moment it had banished all her doubts away… and she had kissed him.

Still she did not know what had gotten over her in that moment… but it had felt… right.

And staring into those glowing eyes…

Christine leaned even closer to him, feeling how he pulled back a bit, his eyes wide with confusion.

“Christine… what are you doing?” she heard his dark voice murmur. Her heart was threatening to beat straight out of her breast.

“Do you not wish it?” she then asked.

“Christine… I would sell my soul should I indeed have one for you to wish to be with me… it is what I have wanted since I first heard you sing. I became possessed with the thought of having you beside me… to sing for me and me alone…” his voice spoke with the fire that burned inside him, making Christine ever so slightly hold her breath.

“But… I never intended to force you to…” his voice faded out. Christine swallowed nervously, before she shook her head.

“Erik… I know… and you are not…” she assured him. “I want this…”

“How could you?” he asked her, disbelief glowing in his eyes.

“As I told you…” Christine shook her head softly. “I am not repulsed by you… far from it… I… I do not know what I am feeling… but… I want this… whatever this turns out to be. And I am doing this out of my own free will…”

Erik felt that ache return to his chest, having to press his hand against it to brace himself. He was doubting his own ears, thinking for a moment that they deceived him with what he most desired to hear.

But there were an honesty in those heavenly blue eyes… not a single lie behind them.

“Christine… I…”

Christine shook her head slowly, repeating her question. “Do you want it?”

Erik’s breath was caught in his throat. “… yes… more than anything…”

Christine smiled softly, before she moved her face closer and let her lips touch his, feeling that blazing heat against hers. She then reached up her hand, caressing her cheek gently, feeling how he was trembling under her touch.

It was something about this which felt so forbidden to Christine and it made her cheeks burn. She had heard the lectures about how this was sinful… but also the talk from her fellow ballet dancers about how utterly exiting it was…

Christine could feel that pleasant tingling between her legs, making her press them together, as she let her lips part from his to let out a soft breath, before she pressed her lips against his again.

Erik was so lost that he was not aware that his tail was searching her out and wrapped around her legs, pulling her closer to him.

Christine felt it, laughing under her breath slightly at the tickling sensation, moving closer. Her hand then reached out to rest on his arm, pulling it closer to it, inviting him to rest it on her side.

Erik hesitated slightly to touch her, feeling that silken fabric of her nightgown under his fingers. His demonic side was urging him on, and he used that forked tongue to gently tease her lips and when they parted he allowed it to slip inside.

Their bodies entangled with each other, however their clothes separated them from feeling each other fully.

Erik’s large hand moved over to her hip, pressing himself against her where she let out a gasp in surprise, feeling something hard press against her loins. Curiously her hand reached over, feeling it press against the palm of her hand for a moment, before Erik broke the kiss and pulled away from her, both of them panting.

Christine looked confused, her hand feeling that blazing heat against her still.

“We… we should be… be careful…” Erik said through bated breath.

“Did I… did I do anything wrong…?” Christine was confused by his reaction, feeling his tail still lingering around her legs.

“No. Do not think that… it was the closest to heaven that I would ever be allowed to be… but if we continue…” he swallowed. “There will be consequences…”

“I care not… have you not already claimed me with your ring?” she asked as she felt him stand up.

“It will break me if I defile you,” he glanced down at her.

“You will not… not if it is my choice,” Christine insisted.

“If you know what battle rages inside me… what that other side of me imagining what he would do to you…” he swallowed, shaking his head slightly.

“I am not scared of you Erik,” Christine insisted.

“I am scared of me. I am terrified of what I am…” he began. “I want to be with you… I want to be a good man to you… but this… this foul side of me… it want to possess you fully. And in this duality…”

He punched his chest gently.

“There is… poison within me…” he swallowed. “And I cannot let it hurt you… Christine… I adore you… I love you… but… I do not trust myself close to you…”

“Erik… you are better than that demonic side of you…” Christine tired to reach out for him in the dark.

“I want to be… for you, Christine…” he whispered softly. “But… give me time… I need to be certain… that I won’t hurt you.”

“I believe in you Erik…” she whispered.

“I wish I was as certain as you…” he said as seemed to fade away into the darkness and leaving her alone.  

[goliath-the-big-boy]

About The Muses

Goliath - A battle scarred Big Boy with fiery golden eyes. Also known as The Terror of the North by humans everywhere in the Frost District. He’s the leader of the Articulates. Simply saying his name is enough to make the humans in the District tremble in fear. He is ruthless, and cunning, combined with his brute strength and blood thirsty nature, he’s far worse than even the most blood thirsty dragons of legend. Despite this, he, and Canuk are very well acquainted.

Elanor - Goliath’s mate. She is an AC-12, and is just as terrifying as Goliath. She often leads hunts alongside Goliath. She’s rather elusive, but humans in the District have only managed to get a fleeting glimpse of her, most of them ended up getting killed, and eaten by her as a result. It has gotten to the point to where humans in the District believe seeing her is a bad omen.

Monstro - Name meaning Monster in Latin, he is a Challenger, another steam locomotive built by the Union Pacific. He is second in command whenever Goliath, and Elanor have left to do certain tasks, mostly traveling into town to pay taxes, and trade goods. He often leads the hunts by Goliath’s side.

Draco - Monstro’s brother, also a Challenger. He is just as cunning and quick as Monstro. However, he is much more about brawn than brain compared to Monstro. He often can be seen scouting out the area for prey.

Athena - A Big Boy, but unlike Goliath she is much more curious. She was the one who found Edwin, the pet human of the Articulates, late at night in a blizzard. If it weren’t for his quick thinking and flattery, he managed to convince her to spare him. She adores Edwin, carrying him wherever she goes like how a child carried their favorite stuffed animal.

Arthur - A Yellowstone steam locomotive. Has an extremely strong hatred for humans, will eat them given the chance. He was left out in the cold for years, locked up, never to see the light of day, until after war when was freed by his fellow Articulates. He doesn’t necessarily trust Edwin at this point, but Goliath has approved of him, so he has no choice, but to accept him.

Brutus - An Allegheny steam locomotive. He’s among some of the strongest of the group. He often pulls trains via contracts, but only within the Frost District. He refuses to leave the safety of the District. He looks slightly overweight, but is surprisingly powerful.

Alex - Also an Allegheny steam locomotive. Brutus’s brother, and also pulls trains via contracts within the District. Like his brother, he appears overweight, but is surprisingly strong, and fast. He, like his brother, is neutral when it comes to humans.

Christine - Another one of the Big Boys. She often keeps to herself, and can often be found sitting in one of the chairs reading as a blizzard howls outside. She's usually quiet to others, but definitely more open to her fellow Articulates, especially Athena.

Lily - She is perhaps one of the most shy of the Articulates. She is known for her love of beautiful flowers, lilies in particular. She’s perhaps the most elusive of the bunch, as well as a skilled huntress. She often likes to look up at the night sky at the stars.

Tyler - Another Big Boy. He's stubborn as a mule, and is usually the only one of the group to challenge Goliath's decisions, which Goliath seems to admire. In the end, Tyler has a massive amount of respect, and loyalty for Goliath. He's usually the one that will be the first to step up, and join a hunting party. He is very good friends with Monstro.

Victoria - One might call her a proper woman, or a surprisingly well-mannered Big Boy to most. She doesn't like to admit the fact that she likes to spoil, and pamper Edwin whenever she can, but one thing is certain: she, along with Goliath, are the peacekeepers of the group, settling disputes, and arguments. Most of them come from Arthur arguing Edwin is not to be trusted, or even going as far as trying to throw Edwin out in the cold, which obviously doesn't fly well with Athena, and the other females of the group.

Abigail - Perhaps one of the most shy of the group, as well as the most easily startled, ironic for a Big Boy. However, she's much more open to Eleanor, and Athena than the others. Athena is perhaps her closest friend, and like the other females, spoil, and pamper Edwin to no end. Despite her shy, and slightly jumpy nature, she can be very sweet, and gentle, except towards humans other than Edwin.

Edwin - The pet human of the Articulates. Pretty timid around the Articulates,  but around humans has a strong confidence. Practically clings to Athena’s side most of the time. He’s slightly intimidated by Goliath.

Canuk - The ruler of the Frost District. She's the one protecting the Articulates in her District. To humans, she was, and is nicknamed 'Royal Hudson'. Now she truly is royal now that she rules over her own District in Canada. She's a very peaceful, and reasonable engine. She's more than happy to lend a helping hand if any of her allies are in trouble.

[just-4-xmas-today]

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A Gift of Song and Dance

Here is one of my three Christmas presents to you all. I want to thank @timebird84​ for putting on an amazing Phantom Christmas as usual. This is a one-shot for you E/C fans. Read and then watch the video as an extra gift (put on headphones- though I caution it may be loud), All writing art and music is done by me for this one shot. —–

Erik was reading. This was something he often did, as Christine had come to learn. This had in a way, surprised her.  She knew of course he was quite a knowledgeable man, knowing more languages than she could name. She had even seen his library before the mob three years prior. However, when she had first moved in, she simply had not been able to conjure the image of Erik doing anything… remotely quiet. Or distracting. Up until the first time she came across him early one morning, book in hand, quiet in front of the fireplace, she had only seen him being, well, him. Animated and almost always talking to her. At first they were shy rambles, focusing entirely on her and her own well being. ‘Does this stew taste good Christine’, ‘would you like a blanket Christine’, ‘would you like me to sing to you?’, so on so forth.

Eventually however, as he grew more confident she really was here to stay, he simply began to speak almost none stop. Ramblings of a man who had never been allowed to ramble to someone before. Sometimes she found it adorable, other times a bit tiresome, but generally she was simply fascinated. She was one of the few who knew Erik at all, and she had come to know him as a musical genius first and foremost. However, as time went on, she came to realize he was simply brilliant in every regard. History, culture, advance maths and sciences, and while often he would go so in depth that she could not fully comprehend everything he was saying, she loved to hear him talk. To see him so excited and happy.

He could talk about the most abstract nuisances in Greek tragedy until she dozed off late in the evening. Soon she would wake in their bed and there was a comfort in that knowledge, in the little life they shared. So to come across him not playing his organ or talking about advanced academics, had been something of a culture shock.

That had been months years ago however, and now she was quite acquainted to Erik sitting in front of the fire, reading a book. He had slowly cooling lemon tea with honey by him, something he drank regularly to help preserve his voice, and a book in an unknown language in his long thin fingers. Absentmindedly, he was humming a song she had never heard before. It was a waltz, she could tell that, and most likely a new composition she’d hear over the next week until it was utterly perfected and performed for her as his beloved audience, and sometimes Nadir, if she could convince him to crawl out of his shell enough to perform in front of someone besides herself.

She listened, laying next to him, tea dress hiked slightly so she could feel the gracious warmth of the fire on her stockings. It was a beautiful composition naturally, hummed by an even more stunning voice. She had yet to hear a composition of his that she did not like. In fact, she had yet to see or hear any art made by him she did not enjoy.

As she listened, her mind began to imagine a beautiful dance in a ballroom, filled with the colours of rich fabrics swirling with their dark cores, hands in hands, feet in sync as music carried them…  

And suddenly a rather tragic thought occurred to her as she stood and moved to stand behind him. She bent down and nestled her albeit pointed chin on his boney shoulder. She looked blankly at the page as his humming continued, though she could tell he was thoroughly enjoying the contact as his body, always so stiff in posture, sagged slightly. Still she asked in a quiet voice, “Does it ever bother you that you can never dance to your own music? It’s always so beautiful and yet… You’d have to be so focused on really creating it, that you can not even fully enjoy it.”

He stopped humming and answered in a startlingly calm voice “It would if I could dance Christine. But, I can’t. So I am much happier performing so lovely creatures such as yourselves can enjoy.”

This took her by surprise. “There’s… Something you can’t do?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Apart from modeling? Yes. I can’t dance.” He laughed, voice warm and rich. Then he raised a leg that had been resting on a small automan. It ended in a stump, it’s walking prosthetic leaning against the small velvet stool. Part of his leg had been made unusable by the mob years ago, and the sight was so normal to Christine now that she had forgotten about it all together most days.  “At one point I could with a bit of success, but now I can not. My prosthetic allows me to walk, and on a good day without a limp, and my organ one allows me to play but I can not walk on that one at all. However, neither of them could stand doing much more than basic walking and maybe jogging if absolutely necessary. Dancing would certainly break the mechanism I use to make the ankle function properly. So… I don’t dance.”

He did not sound bitter (so very different from his initial reaction to losing part of his leg), only accepting. Which in a way, was more depressing to the blond soprano. “That’s… I never considered that. I’m sorry for bringing it up.” A life without dancing while simultaneously surrounded by the world’s most amazing music sounded in that moment, like cruel mockery.

He turned his head to face her, no nose to hit her own as he did this. His skeletal features only held warmth for her now as she looked into those golden eyes. “Don’t be sorry dear. I encourage curiosity and I am utterly touched you care so much for me that you would want me to dance and enjoy music as you do.”

The smile on his non-existent lips held nothing but warmth and love, and she could not help but kiss him…

—

That was three weeks ago. And now she found herself pacing Meg’s parlour, a serious look on her face as Meg knit, watching her. All around them was Christmas cheer mocking Christine, right down to the last ornament on Megs small Christmas three -which was more ornament than tree at this point.  “Christine… I think you are overthinking this. He’d be happy with a piece of paper you touched once.”

Christine glared at her mousy brown hair friend. “He deserves more than that. And… I don’t know Meg. Last year had been easy, but how am I going to top getting him that bloody cat? He practically picked her out when we passed the pet shop on our Sunday walks. This year he’s been more…”

“Secretive?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No… Relaxed. Like he seems too content with- with everything!” She said, for once wishing he

wanting for something.

“I mean, you could get him some meat on those bones. His deformity would not be nearly as pronounced if he just ate properly.” She snickered.

Christine couldn’t help but giggle a tiny and announce proudly “Actually I have had some success on that front. He actually gained a few kilograms since I started taking over dinner. I mean, I still feel his ribs but I can touch his stomach and actually feel a layer of something I front of his organs.“

Christine could tell it was a mark of how good Meg was as a friend, that she didn’t look disgusted, but instead nodded with approval. "But that still doesn’t answer my issue.” Christine sighed, the victorious moment passing.

“Why not make him something?” Meg asked, returning to her knitting.

“Because I can’t just knit him a sweater- no offense, he’d love it from anyone else- but I as in Christine his girlfriend, can not. It just seems so… lame. In comparison. He’s a genius and anything I do just seems so… insignificant."

Meg rolled her eyes. "I didn’t mean knit. I know you can sew or knit or anything like that without it turning into a tangled mess… but what about… music? You two got together because of it. Why not write him a song for once?"

Christine looked at her and then jumped into the sofa, hugging her friend tightly "oh Meg! You’re a genius!”

—

Across Paris in a small but well cared for flat, Erik slammed his fist on the wall. “I’m an idiot! This-these mere jewels just won’t do! She deserves even more! Angel that she is!"

Nadir rolled his eyes, sipping from his glass of wine and watching his dear friend pace like a caged tiger ready to kill it’s keepers. "you know. Any other woman would be quite happy with these… so why not Christine?” As he spoke he gestured to the table with had several Ruby and diamond necklaces and bracelets. Red was apparently her favourite colour according to Erik.

“Because it’s just- she’s just- too perfect Nadir! Nothing on this Earth seems good enough for that beautiful angel. Nothing.” Erik sulked.

Nadir shook his head fondly. “Well has she mentioned wanting anything recently?"

He sighed "No. Not like last year with the photo- wait… she. She did mentioned something about dancing and us enjoying my music… She wanted to dance with me but I couldn’t becau- Nadir I’ll be back some time- I have to go to the hardware store!” And with that he quickly hurried out, a normal sight for nadir as the man often went on his thoughts the moment they struck him. Regardless of the incoming snow…

—

Christine and Erik had never been more silent or busy.  Erik barely noticed when Christine walked past him with a pile of books from his library, just as she barely noticed him struggling under the weight of a box filled with metal, wood, and rubber piping. She often locked herself in her old room which had been converted into her own office, just as he locked himself in his workshop.

Odd sounds filled the night under the Opera. For Christine, it was a lot of humming and cursing loudly in swedish. A few shattered ink bottles as well. Although when that happened she scrambled to cover her little project before awkwardly walking to Erik’s workshop to ask if he knew of a way to get the ink out of her crimson carpet.

Every time she knocked, she’d hear a loud clang or the sound of several objects falling, as well as Erik’s own fair share of curses, most in Farsi. After some scrambling he’d answer the door and help her without complaint and even offer her more ink.

The days were going to fast for Christine’s sake but Meg insisted she take a small break for dinner with her best friend. Erik encouraged this and right as the door closed he began to pace. His present had three parts two it. And what should have been the easiest part was proving to be his greatest challenge. Not to mention it'd  be the easiest to detect, his paranoid mind had decided.

Still. He sat glaring at his organ, not a single note coming to mind. And after a quarter of an hour had passed, he got up, deciding a small snack could help him think (and Christine had left fresh biscuits out, much to his secret delight).

As he started eating be began thinking of the woman in general, and it occurred to him he had not actually seen her much lately, despite the fact they lived together. And then he realized for some reason she had been cooped up in her study…

Silent as ever, biscuit in mouth, he crept to the study. Slowly he opened the door which had been left open by a crack. And inside was the answer to his prayers…

—

Christmas day came and both people in the small house under the Opera were nervous and jumpy with excitement. They cooked and sang Carol’s together as they made a small feast for two. Tomorrow on Christmas day they would have nadir and Meg over as well but for tonight it was just the happy couple.

    Christine found herself focusing on anything related to baking and Erik anything else just about. And soon the table was set, wine poured. It was all delicious of course and they spent the time discussing the latest news in Paris or in the opera. Christine was a bit of a gossip about Meg and Raoul just as Erik was about Nadir and his servant Darius, who was only two years older.

Then all too soon, it was time. “You first my dear. You look as though you will float away with excitement and I won’t deny when I say I am curious."

She nodded, knowing it was best to get hersbour if the way as she would be too nervous to enjoy Erik’s present. Slowly she pulled out her father’s violin. And with shaky hands adjusted music on a stand. Then she took a deep breath, feeling utterly stupid, and began to play.

Erik of course knew roughly what it’d sound like. But that did not stop his heart from stopping at what would become his favourite piece of musical literature. Sure, it technically had it’s faults. Christine try as she may could not perfectly play or compose. But that didn’t matter. What mattered was the fact it had more love in it than Erik could comprehend, making it imperfectly perfect.

And when she finished, he whipped a few years away before pulling her into a warm hug. No words were spoken. None needed to be.

Then he pulled back to kiss her and grin like the mad man in love that he was. "That has to be one of the sweetest gifts anyone has ever given me. Thank you my dear."

She bent her head and blushed slightly. "I’m glad you like it. Took me a while but … I’m glad I did it."

He chuckled and kissed her forehead. An act that meant just as much if not more to them than a normal kiss on the lips. She pulled back and grinned up at him. "alright Monsieur. I do believe it is your turn.”

He chuckled, this time a bit nervously. “Alright… now you’ll have to forgive me but I had a small peak at my present before but… it allowed me to make you this … and something else."

And from under the tree he pulled out a small box. It was rather heavy as she took it. Surprisingly so. She pulled off the red wrapping to see an exquisite jewelry box. It was red and gold with red rubies all around.  The fold she realized was painted to be the melody to the song she had just played, with the rubies in place of the note heads.

Carefully and still in awe she opened the box, and inside were two still figures of… of herself dancing in a lavish red ball gown and Erik, holding her close.

Carefully Erik picked it up after a moment and twisted the small turn on its base. Inside the figures twirled Ina small dance. Then he sat it down as it started to play and cautiously offered his hand. "I… made a few modifications to my leg… so forgive me if I am out of practice but… care to have this dance?"

Christine looked up into his bright hopeful eyes and took his hand in hers.

They danced far all the notes had disappeared into the silence of one Christmas night, under the Opera.

[christinedartois]

✧ ━━ the courts of switzerland present CHRISTINE DE ARTOIS of FRANCE, the LADY of FRANCE. the THIRTY year old had been EMPATHETIC and LOVING before the break of war but have now become ANXIOUS and STUBBORN. SHE is often remembered by their likeness to ANNABELLE WALLIS and WHITE ROSES, KIND EYES AND A WARM FIREPLACE. the rumor mills of europe claim that her allegiance lies with FRANCE and that she is for WAR.

Raised  in  the  comforts  of  french  court,  Christine  d’Artois  was  no  stranger  to  opulence  and  extravagance  growing  up  in  the  company  of  the  Valois  royal  family  through  her  mother’s  position  as  the  late  Queen’s  principal  lady  in  waiting.  She  is  now  (the  current)  Queen  Claude’s  principal lady  in  waiting  and  confidant and has established  herself  at  Court  as  a  powerful  member  of  the  Royal  Household  with  great influence  into  French  Court  proceedings  through  her  position  with the Queen.  She  has  made  it  so  that  she  can  be  considered  a  useful  tool  in  the  manifestations  of  power  in  France,  and  with  her  loyalty  to  the  current  King  wavering,  no  one  knows  how  she  will  use  her  influence  and  position  to  further  either  side  of  the  debate  on  which  son  of  Valois  should  sit  on  the  French  throne.

H  e  a  d  c  a  n  n  o  n  s 

Christine was practically raised in court. Her mother Odette was the principle lady in waiting to the Queen (mother of the current King Francis) and she was therefore privileged enough to grow up learning perfect etiquette and court protocol, and she was comfortable around the members of the royal family because of how close her mother was to the (then) Queen of France.

Born the only daughter in a family of five, with two older brothers she was very much the daughter that her mother had prayed for and so she was always at her side, not often able to spend time with her own father for she was brought up by the women of Court as her mother returned to her duties as a lady in waiting to the Queen not long after her second birthday. Because of this, Christine was the daughter that many women at court saw as their own, and they all took a shared responsibility for her, loving her and teaching her ways of Court.

When Francis became King, Christine was a smart choice for Queen Claude to choose as one of her ladies, and she gladly accepted the invitation, knowing that she was trained and capable of performing the duties of one of the Queen’s ladies in waiting and that the position would come with great influence at court.

(TW: death mention) She was married young, to an established member of the french military. Their marriage was a happy one and produced two children, her son who is now 6 and her daughter who is 4. Her husband unfortunately passed away in battle before her daughter was born and Christine has been raising her children by herself ever since, immediately continuing her duties as lady in waiting to Queen Claude because of duty and to distract herself from her fears and the added responsibility that came from being a widow.

She misses her husband, and since his death she has put a lot of thought on her own beliefs about France, and the leadership that it has fallen under in Francis II’s reign. Her husband believed that Francis should not have been crowned, and he was loyal to Charles the Duke of Orleans until his death, believing that he should be King instead. While Christine is in a unique position because of her role in Queen Claude’s household, from what she has seen, she is now more than ever, more inclined to be aligned with her late-husband’s opinion of the French Monarchy, and who deserves to be on the throne.

On a more physical note, she is known in french court to be a great beauty and she is well aware of that. She believes that it is important to have a great first impression and one’s appearance is a key factor in that. Christine has a pristine reputation in court because she did everything as she was supposed to. Establishing herself with assistance from her mother’s illustrious position in court, marrying a high ranking military official of France, giving him children relatively easily, and serving her Queen to the best of her ability, but no one knows how she inwardly questions whether or not the country is being led astray by a King (and Queen) who are more involved in the problems of their union than the problems of their people.

Christine has a sweet and good-natured personality. She has taken on the responsibility of taking care of the other ladies at Court, helping them whenever she can because she has a well of information on how things are done, and connections to the royal family that are useful. She does not often make enemies, and is an excellent advocate for diplomacy whenever possible. She is a true romantic at heart, and while her marriage was arranged, she had truly grown to fall in love with her husband before his death and has taken the past four years to mourn him. However, she feels that she has now healed significantly from his loss, and wouldn’t be opposed to finding romance once again.

p  l  o  t    p  o  i  n  t  s

I really want to look into Christine’s wavering loyalty. She’s had the past few years to think about her husband’s loss and really consider what he had advocated for during their life together, and she is leaning more towards denouncing her loyalty to the King and Queen, in favor of Charles who she feels represents a “people’s king” more than Francis ever could. Considering her position at Court being so close to Queen Claude, it could be really interesting to see how she uses this position to assist in a change in France’s monarchy to favor the King that she feels would really help the people.

I would also like to further my plot of Christine finding love again. She has been scarred by the death of her husband but I can see her falling in love again because she is a romantic at heart, and depending on who she falls in love with, she would deal with a lot of emotions and feelings when it comes to processing that love and affection which I’m excited to write about!

I would also really like to plot for Christine’s relationships with other women (or men!) at court, to see how her kindness manifests with different personalities, and to see how she uses her influential position in terms of more “everyday” matters at court.

W  a  n  t  e  d    c  o  n  n  e  c  t  i  o  n  s 

𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬-𝐢𝐧-𝐖𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐝𝐞;; 

[2?] women who are also ladies in Waiting to Queen Claude - As principle lady-in-waiting Christine would probably take on the older sister/mother role to these ladies because of how much experience she has over them. She sees them as her responsibility and makes sure that they are alright in Court. 

𝐏𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞;;

Someone who she loved in her youth. This man was her first love, and they had a romance when they were both much younger and still naive and unaware of the harsh realities of Court life. They both married other people but there will always be a piece of her heart invested in the love that they shared. // Charles d’Orleans 

𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝'𝐬 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝;; 

Her husband Erik was a general in the French Army and he died in Battle, His best friend was in the same battalion and was there for him until the end. He was her husband’s closest confidant and so he was around the family quite often as Christine and Erik’s family grew. Now, Christine takes it upon herself to check on him and make sure he’s alright because he meant so much to Erik. 

[nyeusigrube-haven]

Inbox of Diana Smoke: Thanksgiving Drabble

12 pm: Rosemary

Rosemary Marinitch ran her "to-do" list through her mind as she looked around the sprawling kitchen of the Briar Patch farm. Butcher-block counters were piled high with sweet potatoes, beets, carrots, mushrooms, cranberries, and assorted other fruits, vegetables and tubers.

The venison mince pie was almost ready to come out of the oven; the dessert pies and the bread pudding had all been done for hours. The sweets-and-beets could share the oven with the turkeys, Casper and Nixon... both named by Mare's youngest brother, Jay, who had apparently been in a whimsical mood that spring and was now hiding somewhere in the back yard in order to avoid any semblance of "helping." Now headless, plucked and brined, Casper and Nixon were patiently awaiting their apple-pecan cornbread stuffing.

The acorn squash, stuffed mushrooms and au gratin potatoes were all done, ready to be put in the oven and re-warmed shortly before serving...

She paused to take a deep breath.

Since Mare had taken over cooking from her father, Thanksgiving had always been a wonderfully frantic day. Including several local family friends, they normally had about a dozen people, but this year the number would be higher. Most of the Vida family had accepted her invitation, shocking her to the core, and some of them had asked whether it was all right to bring guests. Even her cousin Nathan had promised to show up.

On the other hand, Mare knew all her guests well enough to know that a good half-dozen of them were at risk of cancelling at the last minute.

The doorbell rang.

She took a deep breath and braced herself.

4:00 pm: Sarah Vida

Sarah woke, groggy, at four in the afternoon. Christine was gently shaking her shoulder, and reminding her, "Sarah, you asked me to get you up. It's Thanksgiving."

The reminder probably wouldn't have been sufficient motivation if she hadn't known that the family had pushed Thanksgiving dinner to five in deference to their newly-vampiric niece's solar challenges. In previous years, they had eaten at about one in the afternoon, an hour Sarah suspected she wouldn't comfortably see for quite a while.

People kept saying things like, We'll see. It's different for everyone, when she asked how long it would take her to adjust so she could be awake during the day, but she had figured out that they meant, No one really gets over it, but if you're powerful enough, you can endure.

"Thanks," she said to Christine, as she rolled out of bed and shook out her hair. Being undead had a few- only a few- unexpected advantages. Vampires didn't sweat, or secret oils, or shed skin cells, or perform any other messy mortal processes. This made showers unnecessary unless one spilled something on oneself, or wanted to bathe purely for the comfort value. It also greatly lessened travel time. All that combined, and meant that Sarah had time to get dressed, feed, and make it to dinner in time.

With her feet still bare, she padded downstairs to see who else was around.

She found Nikolas in the dining room, but it wasn't Kristopher seated at the rarely-used formal table with him.

By this point, Sarah was getting used to seeing individuals whose faces she had memorized from pictures in the Vida's collection of targets. She tried to avoid staring, and was almost always able to avoid saying the first thing that came to her mind. Sometimes she chose to be tactful, and just backed away slowly.

In this case, she spoke the instant she thought. "What the fu-"

"Sarah," Nikolas said, rising with enough of a guilty start that she was sure he knew exactly why she was upset. "I'm sorry, our meeting ran late."

"Sarah Vida," the other vampire said, standing with a smile and an offered hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm-"

"I know who you are." There wasn't a cell in her body that wanted to shake that hand, so she ignored it until it lowered. She had spent a month learning to play nice with other vampires, but there were lines. This was a line.

"Excuse us," Nikolas said to his guest, before stepping forward, catching Sarah by the arm, and guiding her to the next room. It wouldn't give them privacy- vampiric hearing was too good. He just wanted to get them out of each other's sights.

"I have been nice to Kendra," Sarah hissed, "and I have been polite to Kaleo. I love you and Kristopher despite what I know of your history, which you have to admit cuts pretty damn close to home. But if you try to convince me to dissemble and shake the hand of one of Midnight's trainers, by the goddess I will do it with a blade in my hand and I don't care what you say about consequences."

Jaguar stepped into the doorway, but wisely chose not to acknowledge Sarah before saying to Nikolas, "I left the documentation on the table. Good luck."

He disappeared. At Sarah's glare, Nikolas said, "He's changed, Sarah."

"I. Don't. Care," she bit out. "He worked for an empire that tried to make my entire species extinct, Nikolas. For centuries, he deliberately tortured and enslaved innocent humans... not to mention shapeshifters and witches whenever he could get them. If he's changed, great. Maybe he can keep walking the Earth. But I will not associate with one of Midnight's power-players. I can't."

She recognized the expression on his face, which meant he was trying to decide between handling her to avoid an argument, or going with tough-love.

She decided first. Nikolas couldn't back out of this argument, but she didn't have time for it now.

"I'm going to feed, then head over to the Briar Patch. I'll see you and Kristopher later tonight."

"Should-"

"Later," she snapped, interrupting him before he could shove his foot further into his mouth.

4:08 pm: Kyla Cobriana-Vida

"Vemke'tasa," Kyla swore, as she raced for the showers. She had overslept. If she didn't seriously hustle, she was going to be late for the first family holiday she had ever been invited to... and it wasn't easy to hustle here.

She had to climb over three other people to get out of the sleeping area and into the common room. It wasn't that they were all normally nocturnal, but they had been up all night working on a particularly tricky intre'marl with Stefan, and then a few hours more partying. They had all crashed sometime around eight in the morning.

Good judgment? Maybe not. Worth it? She hoped so.

Most serpiente didn't celebrate Thanksgiving, so her nest-mates were going about their daily routines like always, which meant the showers were busy at this time of day.

As long as she didn't try to claim a crown, something she had no desire to do, the serpiente didn't care that she wasn't legitimate. The vast majority of serpents weren't. That meant she got all the advantages of cobra blood without any of the responsibilities, which meant people got out of the way and let her duck under one of the shower heads without objecting.

Normally, there was some fooling around here- you couldn't have a communal shower without people playing tricks like hiding each other's clothes- which meant Kyla didn't keep her street clothes in the dressing room. Buck naked except for a towel wrapped around her long black hair, she went back to her cohorts' den. They had been warned about how important this day was to her, and threatened with skinning and dismemberment if they dared do anything that could mess it up.

When she got there, they were all awake. Stefan had her street clothes laid out for her, and Alicia was readying a hair-dryer and clips. Luke was blinking sleep from his eyes, but greeted her with an encouraging smile.

They didn't understand, but that didn't matter. They wanted to help.

The thought brought tears to her eyes- followed immediately by rolling nausea.

I can't do this, she thought.

"Sit down, girl," Alicia commanded, as Kyla froze in the doorway, fighting panic. "We'll get you all primped to go have a fancy dinner with your mother's folks. Just remember, no matter what, you're one of us. You're beautiful, you're talented, you're proud. Got it?"

4:28 pm: Michael Arun

It took Michael Arun quite a while to remember where he was when he woke up.

Patchy carpet under him. Thin blanket half over him. Knife digging into his side- just the handle, thankfully, since it was still sheathed at his waist. No bruises, though he'd had those before going to bed, too.

He was in a slightly run-down motel. He was on the floor because Rant and Rave, two crow shapeshifter sisters whose real names were never uttered, had taken the bed and this rat-trap didn't have a cot or even a couch.

It did have a television, on which he vaguely remembered watching a ten-hour marathon of Supernatural. He was pretty sure there had been a drinking game associated with it, but in the glaring light of day sneaking around the edges of the closed curtains, he couldn't remember what rules they had been following or even what they had been drinking.

He put his head back down.

It had been a good party, anyway, celebrating the conclusion of a multi-day hunt in which they had been stalking a nest of vamps that had managed to make themselves the feudal lords of this tiny town. Vamps were gone now, and the town of wherever-they-were was marginally safer. Michael couldn't wait to see what SingleEarth told the terrified populace.

On second thought, yes he could.

He didn't know what day of the week it was, never mind the date. He considered checking his phone, but if he turned it on he knew he would probably have messages, and he didn't feel like answering any more distress calls yet. He wasn't even sure if it was November or December.

December would be better. November had been the month from hell.

Putting his head back down on a makeshift pillow made of a rolled-up sweatshirt, he closed his eyes again. Another eight hours of sleep seemed like a good idea.

4:30 pm: Nathan Marinitch

Won't be able to make it to dinner this year. Love you all. Happy Thanksgiving. Don't reply.

Nathan Marinitch sent the text to his cousin Mare, and then deleted any evidence of sending it and tucked the ultra-slim phone into the inside pocket of his suit jacket.

A bird fluttered to his side, sharing images of the local landscape. The American kestrel Nathan was honored to have as a companion could see vivid colors that had no words in human language. It refrained from perching on Nathan's shoulder because its talons had a tendency to leave noticeable marks in his suit jackets. He couldn't afford that at the moment.

By the time he approached the stronghold, he knew the exact location of every guard, every gun, every hostage, every door and window and bolt-hold.

He cast Kestrel back into the air. Her fierce cry was silent, purely mental, so it would not draw attention. Nathan focused his power, seeking out threads of energy from every living creature around him.

He checked his watch. He had twenty-seven minutes.

4:39 pm: Zachary Vida

In the past, Zachary had always followed Dominique's lead when it came to holidays, which meant that like her he had put the hunt first. Thanksgiving usually meant camping out with a container of Chinese food and a few other hunters while they discussed the upcoming season.

Some people loved the holidays. Some people dreaded them. Hunters knew that the days between Halloween and Valentine's Day tended to be bloody. Few vampires celebrated the birth of Christ or the triumph of the Maccabees, but they enjoyed revelry and over-indulgence just as much as any human.

This year, Olivia had convinced him to take a break and relax for the holiday- though she had not convinced him to join her and her friends. Instead, he had accepted an invitation to the Briar Patch, the Marinitch family home. The invitation had been extended every year for as long as he could remember; sometimes he had remembered to decline, but just as often he had forgotten. He almost hadn't had the courage to say yes this time.

When he had, though, Rosemary Marinitch hadn't even paused. She had continued the phone conversation as if he had been a figure at their Thanksgiving table every year of her life.

Now he was in the car with Diana Smoke, another witch he had rarely given the time of day previously. Rosemary had arranged for Diana to give him a ride; conspiratorially, she had explained to Zachary, "I know Diana. If she isn't responsible for someone else, she'll get pulled into work and won't get to the house before Christmas." He wondered if she had told Diana the exact same thing. I know Zachary. If he has to drive himself, he'll chicken out half-way here.

She would have been right.

It made for an awkward car ride, however. Their occasional attempts at small-talk failed. Zachary's life might have taken a strange turn a while back, but he still didn't have a lot in common with the woman considered the heart and soul of SingleEarth.

Well, no, there was the fact that they were both trying to hold together the shattered wreckage of everything they had ever cared about. If they had wanted to, they could probably have had a lengthy conversation about that.

It was a long, silent drive.

4:44 pm: Jeremy Francisco

Oh, to be a fly on the wall... and feel like, at any moment, the swatter might come down.

Jeremy Francisco stepped into the Briar Patch feeling like he was on the verge of explosion, or implosion, or something along those lines. He had certainly never been happier not to be a witch, since he knew perfectly well what such powers could do when combined with high emotions.

With his brother's hissing voice still lingering in his mind, he was certainly experiencing high emotions. "It's all about you, isn't it? It always has to be all about Jeremy!"

He had wanted to reply, "Yes, Dave, my wedding is all about me," but he knew better.

SingleEarth had pamphlets titled things like, How do I tell my family? He could vividly recall reading one specific piece of advice, echoed by numerous others: Telling your family about the paranormal probably means challenging a deep-seated world-view. Even in the best of circumstances, you may face anxiety and denial, which can come out as anger.

We advise against announcing your status to a group. Talk to your family members one-on-one, so you can appeal to their reason and offer the support they need to cope with new and often frightening information. Save big holidays for announcements of weddings, graduations and promotions. Announcing that humans are not alone and you are now a shapeshifter at the Christmas dinner table is more likely to make people remember "the year you ruined Christmas" than it is to inspire good will and tolerance.

Jeremy had followed half of that advice.

He had pulled his brother aside an hour or so before the Thanksgiving turkey was due to be served. They hadn't been as close since high school, since they had followed different paths, but at least Dave wasn't a vampire hunter. If Jeremy could win him over, he would be an ally.

It didn't work that way.

"I've proposed and she said yes," went very well.

"There's something I need to tell you..." didn't go quite as well.

Jeremy left before dinner, with Dave's parting shot- "I'll tell Mom you had some kind of emergency at that stupid clinic where you work"- echoing in his ears.

He tried to shake off the strain of the confrontation as he pulled onto the dirt driveway of the Marinitch family home, a large ranch set at the edge of several acres of farmland that had long ago mostly gone fallow. Some had been reclaimed by neighboring woods, and other parts had been deliberately filled with native plants. Only one acre was still cultivated, with a combination of herbs, fruits and vegetables.

4:45 pm: Jay Marinitch

From three acres away, Jay could hear his sister Mare fuming. At this distance, he should have been able to tune her out, but she would have known and that would have made her even angrier.

Nathan had just bailed at the last minute... again. Caryn, who was supposed to be helping Mare cook, was as nervous as a fly on a griddle because Jeremy hadn't arrived yet or called to say how late he would be. Zachary and Diana were supposedly on their way, though Zachary's voice had sounded strained when he had called Mare to say they had hit some traffic. Sarah should be there any moment.

Should he wander in and offer assistance?

Or would that just frustrate her more?

He wasn't much help with-

JAY! I know you're hiding out there!

Strictly speaking, Mare was not telepathic, but she had always had a unique way of communicating clearly within her own family.

Wincing, and wishing he'd had the sense to be out of range, Jay trudged through knee- and waist-high brush and grasses before traveling carefully between rows of actual tended plants and then slipping discretely inside. A glance at the clock he passed revealed it to be 4:49 pm.

"How can I help?" he asked, as he found his sister frantically trying to remain calm as she attempted to add final touches to four different dishes in the vast kitchen.

"You're not dressed," she snapped.

He glanced down. Shirt. Pants. Even shoes. Seemed sufficient. Mare's glare made it clear that this was not acceptable for Thanksgiving, however, so he wordlessly retreated to his room.

"Your cat is sleeping on your clothes," his brother, Vireo, remarked as they passed on the stairs. "Mare left one of those sticky tape rolls in the guest bathroom. Use it before you come back down. And brush your hair!"

And here Jay had been so proud of his forethought in setting out his Thanksgiving clothes ahead of time, to make sure he had all the pieces and they all still fit.

Jerk, he thought to the Canadian lynx, who was indeed curled up on top of Jay's amber-green dress shirt and tie. Both items had been picked out and personally approved by Mare, which meant he couldn't switch them for something else even if he'd had anything else.

Cat's faces were not made for grinning, but Lynx pulled it off somehow anyway.

I'm going to get some turkey, Lynx announced, as he jumped up and rubbed against Jay on his way out the door.

Jay heard the cars and other ruckus downstairs as he dressed and diligently de-furred himself, but there was no way to prepare for this confrontation. He had to force himself to walk downstairs, where he stepped into a fog of anxiety, frustration, and fury concealed behind strained but smiling faces.

Across the room, Vireo met his gaze with his own apologetic one. Why hadn't Jay taken Michael up on his invitation to go hunting this week, instead?

5:45 pm: Rosemary Marinitch

Vidas were nothing if not prompt, but other guests straggled in late, as if five in the evening was an absurdly early hour to have a Thanksgiving dinner. Finally, though, all of them were gathered around the tables... including Jay's Canadian lynx, who had insisted on having his own chair at the table.

Two large mice, having been granted a reprieve by Nathan's last-minute cancellation and Kestrel's resultant absence, were now enjoying a feast of carrot greens, apples and cranberries before they were due to be released back into the wild... unless Lynx got bored of turkey before he was as stuffed as Casper. Mare's bond, a female Hanoverian, was keeping company with her father's greyhound; both were happy to avoid the stressed-out crowds of people, and to indulge in their Thanksgiving gifts. Vireo's fox was delightedly pigging out on a mouse-berry pie that Mare had assembled and set out on a mat for the fox, who had no intention of placing himself in a chair. Two barn-cats, though not bonded to any particular witch, had nevertheless also been invited and were happily sharing in scraps.

In deference to the sensibilities of both the people and the poultry, none of the turkeys had been invited.

Except Casper and Nixon, of course.

Mare had given up on socializing with the other people as soon as everyone had been introduced to each other and dinner had been served. Vireo did the work of engaging people in conversation, breaking the ice and the tension both, until Jay finally stopped looking like he was going to faint and actually started to eat.

Now that everyone was talking, occasionally laughing, and smiling in a way that didn't need to be faked, Rosemary's job was done.

At least until the dishes needed to be washed.

[maze-zen]

Angst/fluff Prompt List: No 17. "I can't sleep, can I stay here?"

Thanks for the ask! I love to write prompts! 

Sleepless

Christine tossed and turned in her luxurious bed in the Louis-Philippe room - the room that had come to be hers - in the little house on the lake. She didn’t know why she couldn’t sleep. It usually wasn’t an issue when she’d spent the day with rehearsals above, before going the long way down to Erik’s house where they would sing together the rest of the afternoon. 

She wasn’t hungry; Erik had made a wonderful stew for dinner and she’d had her fill. When they sat down to read that evening, he had brought her tea and - despite his usual complaining about her intake of sugar - a home-baked sweet biscuit. She’d eaten it with absolute delight, making him smile at her enthusiasm, and he promised that there was more for breakfast.

Was the sweet biscuit the reason for her insomnia? Perhaps it hadn’t been wise to eat it so close to bedtime. Or maybe she was too excited by the prospect of having more for breakfast?

It didn’t feel like any of that was the reason. She felt restless, despite her fatigue, and the quietness in the little house wasn’t helping. If only Erik would play a bit, but he never would when it was her allotted bedtime, insisting that she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep if he played. 

She began to wonder what he did instead. He never slept much; she had actually never been awake at a time where he had slept, and she was glad because her stomach hurt when she imagined him in that coffin, he called a bed. To think that one day he wouldn’t leave the casket ever again... She felt tears fight their way into her eyes.

She quickly pushed the image away from her mind, lest she started to cry - ruining her chance of beauty sleep completely. But a veil of sadness had already descended down on her.

It was impossible to sleep now, and she found herself donning her lovely white dressing gown with ruffled lace trims, and stepping into her soft lavender slippers. Carefully, she opened the door and looked into the hall; the light was dim, only a few gaslights flickered with light, and it was quiet.

She walked past his private room, hoping with all her heart that he wasn’t in there. Instead, she chose to look in the music room which was where she usually found him. This time was no exception; he was sitting by the piano, scribbling his nearly unreadable notes onto a music sheet. It was a familiar scene. She’d seen him many times like this.

She did not wish to disturb him, but she wanted to be near him - to know that he was alive and wasn’t leaving her - so she knocked softly on the door frame. In one elegant move, he turned around and rose to his feet, somewhat flustered by her interruption. She felt a blush rise in her cheeks; she shouldn’t have disturbed him.

“Christine, dear, why are you not asleep?” He didn’t sound angry, merely perplexed. Despite his attempt to keep his eyes on her own, his gaze lowered as he took in her form, and she suddenly felt embarrassed that she only wore so few layers. Her hair was at least tied with a bow instead of hanging loose.

“I can’t sleep. I apologize for interrupting your work.” Her voice was meek and she was annoyed with herself for taking such a childish role when she was with him. She was not a child and he was definitely not her father. He intimidated her, both as an authority figure and as a man of flesh and blood. The latter, however, was also what drew her to him.

“Do not apologize, my dear. I always welcome your company - you must know that by now.” She did know. Even when his anger took hold on him and he ran from the room, he never wanted her to leave. “Do you want me to brew you some tea? Perhaps it will calm you down.” He offered politely and walked towards her, presumably to head for the kitchen.

When he came up to her and halted - waiting for her to move, so he could pass her - she lifted a tentative hand to his chest. He tensed for a moment as he assessed her intentions. “What is bothering you?” He asked in a worried voice. He was wearing his black mask, but she could still imagine the frown that was  hiding underneath the cloth. 

She shook her head to rid herself of the memory of his horrid face. He was still Erik. And he was alive. Despite the many layers of clothing, she could clearly feel his pounding heart in his chest, ensuring her that he hadn’t left her.

“I just wondered...” She whispered as she finally dared to meet his golden eyes. “Can I stay here?” He stared at her incredulously as her words came and went, and she braced herself for rejection - she would be sent back to her room. 

It was surprising when he lifted his own hand and put it on top of hers on his chest. His eyes warmed, almost as if he was smiling beneath the mask. “Of course, Christine.” He tugged gently at her hand, encouraging her to follow as he went back to the piano where he let go of her hand and sat down on the bench. He patted the spot next to him and she accepted the invitation.

“So...” He said with a tender voice. “Tell me what you want me to play.”