#ship.gods & monsters

[dracwife]

gods & monsters

ship: gods & monsters → Erik/Adonis

word count: 1472

summary: Adonis find himself entranced by Erik's touch after a particularly exhausting performance.

tw for suggestive content! not explicit but definitely suggestive.

“Ah, brava, brava! You were wonderful tonight!” a crowd of people and voices surrounded him in praise and shoved congratulations at him in the form of material gifts. Here or there he would accept the flowers tossed at him, or collect the bottles of wine and champagne forced into his arms by the wealthier fans and attendees.

It was a difficult task, getting to his dressing room. After finally getting the door shut, and quickly locking it, he sighed. The flowers were set aside and the alcohol stacked yet again in a quickly-filling corner. He sat at his vanity, and began wiping away the makeup and face paint plastered onto him before this night's performance.

“Adonis! Adonis!” he could hear his name called beyond the doors.

“Adonis, my darling Adonis,” a familiar haunting voice joined the chorus of noise, though it stood out fiercely against the grain.

The young acteur's head perked up at the sound, and it wasn't long before the ever-familiar figure of his lover was behind him, he could see in the mirror.

“You were stunning tonight, really,” a bouquet of roses was promptly presented to him, and was quickly accepted.

“You are too kind to me,” the flowers were set aside from the rest, in a vase atop his vanity. It was reserved exclusively for meaningful gifts.

“Not nearly enough.”

There was another bout of shouting, pleading outside for the singer to make an appearance, and the two lovers glanced at the door before meeting each other's gazes again.

“I do love performing, but I cannot stand the aftermath.”

“A sacrifice you must make.”

“A poor one, at that. Take me away from here, please, I need peace and quiet, I'm dreadfully tired.”

“Of course, my Darling Angel,” Erik extended a hand, which Adonis took before the two set off, the taller of the two leading them both through a passage hidden behind one of the two wardrobes. Through his time at the theater, and his time with Erik, Adonis had learned many of the hidden passageways that littered the Opera House, this particular one leading to the river below wherein which Erik lived.

Before long, they were comfortably relaxing in the dungeon Erik called home.

Adonis took his usual seat on the bed, stretching out before laying back, sinking into the soft feathers of the duvet.

His eyes fluttered shut, and he took a deep breath, exhaling the last of his anxieties; the sound seemed to echo off the walls of the quiet, come to be calming, room.

After a small bout of silence, Adonis sat up rather lazily, shifting his weight, his breathing rather short. He stood, and began to tug his shirt over his head, Erik glancing over once, twice, from where he stood organizing various scattered pieces of sheet music, letting his eyes linger on his partner's abdomen, mind wandering a million places before he shook the sins away, slowly making his way towards the singer.

“Do you mind --” he turned, shirt now nearly pulled over his head.

“Of course not,” the Phantom began unlacing the corset that bound Adonis’ chest so tightly, the sharp snaps of the plastic and wire bones against the cool feeling of Erik's gloved hands sent shivers down his spine, the feeling of leather and lace constricting him more than the corset ever could, Adonis nearly choking on the sensation, his mind running wild, playful, seductive, yet controlled - perhaps for more than his own good, deriving from a depraved fantasy not even his darling ghost knew of - the mere thoughts he conjured excited the young performer nonetheless.

Erik must have picked up on Adonis’ swift change of mood, for moments after tearing away his boyfriend's binder, his hands traced along the soft, warming skin of Adonis’ back, and down his spine with deft fingers rounding along his waist, resting then against his stomach and pulling him close to in an intimate embrace known too well to them both.

Adonis let out a shaky breath, Erik's head dipping towards his neck as he began to place kisses along the soft skin there.

Adonis sighed, his hand reaching back to tangle itself into Erik's hair, whose name he murmured as he tilted his head away, allowing much easier access to his neck, shoulder, and collarbone.

Erik did not hesitate, trailing his affections downward, biting down lightly at certain points, others not as gentle, leaving faint marks in their wake. He felt his young lover pull at his hair, gently at first, then more forcefully as he leaned back into the embrace.

Erik's hands travelled upwards, resting now against Adonis’ abdomen, who writhed at the feeling of the thick, cold leather gloves against his skin, the fabric of his shirt pulled upwards again, the cold night's air brushing his body and in return he gasped, moaning softly.

Erik's breath hitched, for he too found pleasure in the sensation of his beloved so far gone at the work of his own hands, which now travelled further upwards, his hands replacing his mouth at Adonis’ neck - the thoughts from earlier flooded back to him at once. He placed a kiss along Adonis’ jaw, then another, once more - oh, the things he could do to his lover; he wished to hear him moan, beg and plead and pant his name and only his name, he thought of earlier and the crowds so eager to get their hands on his Darling Angel. His angel - Erik tightened his grip - and no one else's. He could ruin the man before him, and there would be no one to stop him. How desperately he craved the intimacy, the attention, the power, his breath sped and he let out a low growl affirming that Adonis was his.

It was then that Adonis let out a hoarse groan, a whimper, and then he let his hand fall from Erik's hair, ripping the musician from his shameful, wicked thoughts and throwing him into the depths of repentance. He felt sick, realizing the things he had suggested to himself, he was but a lowly creature gnawing at the scraps of affection tossed his way in pity, surely, by the ever talented artist he held in his arms in that moment. He did not deserve love. He was a disgusting, ugly, horrible thing, and he should have been left to rot in the dungeon he lived in, away from the world and all its peoples. A monster, incapable of love or compassion. He tore his hands from Adonis’ neck, who spun around panting, desperate for any sort of contact.

Erik's breath had not slowed, and he met the eyes of Adonis; who had sent him this angel? He did not deserve it, he did not deserve someone so pure and beautiful when he himself had clawed his way from the depths of hell and lived in darkness the entirety of his life. Before he found comfort in music, now he found it in the arms of his lover, and only now did he question why this was so, how it was possible. Surely it was a cruel, sick joke.

Adonis recognized the familiar bout of sorrow Erik's face wore and took a deep breath, calming himself before he then took Erik's face into his hands, brushing away first the few strands of stray hair that draped themselves across his forehead, then he moved to the mask hiding Erik's face.

“What troubles you?” his fingers brushed the edge of the hard porcelain, but Erik quickly raised a hand of his own, holding the mask to his face.

Adonis placed his hand over Erik's before moving them both gently away, then reached back to remove the mask. How he hated the damned thing, but he also understood Erik's emotional attachment to it.

Once it too was gone, he leaned forward, into a slow, soft kiss that Erik turned from at first, then once realizing his Angel had long ago admitted his love, and not for a second shunned from his deformity - accompanied by a collection now of years old scars, some self-inflicted, others inflicted upon him as a child - he turned towards Adonis and kissed him eagerly in return.

“I am very tired,” Adonis mumbled, “Will you lay with me?”

“Of course,” Erik took the mask from Adonis’ hands and looked down at it for a moment before turning towards the bed and sitting on the edge.

The younger of the two returned to his spot from earlier, resting comfortably in the familiar mass of pillows and covers. Erik stretched out next to him, the mask placed gently on the pillows beside them, and hugged his lover close.

“I love you,” Erik heard the soft voice, muffled from Adonis’ nuzzling into him.

His heart fluttered, and he pulled his Angel closer. How blessed he truly was.

[dracwife]

Hi Erik! If you were going to spoil your love, how would you go about doing it? ;)

A delightful question, truly.

I do my best to give my Angel the world, but there is not a thing I would not do to show him my appreciations.

He does tend to complain about the rate at which I tend to, as he so passionately puts it, 'shower him in flowers and gifts to which he seems to be running out of room on his vanity for them all.'

I digress -- my favorite way to as you put it spoil Adonis is to loan him a night on the town courtesy of the dear Opera owners' generous donations to yours truly. It brings him a sense of happiness -- to which it should, the ill-fitting clothing he wore when I had first met him left a lot to be desired for certain -- and I rest assured that he will ever so enthusiastically return to certainly show me just each and everything he's bought.

If he is happy, I have decided, as am I.

Your inquiry is ever appreciated by us both.

[dracwife]

all i ask of you | adonis

its late and im soft leave me be, yes i used lyrics no i will not apologize

Ship: Gods & Monsters → Adonis/Erik

Word Count: 1632

Summary: Adonis attends the Masquerade, but it quickly goes awry and he finds himself instead alone on the balcony of the Opera Populaire.

The New Year -- a time of celebration.

Celebration of yet another passing twelve months, celebration of another successful show, celebration of another season free of the Opera Ghost's interference.

A celebration, in short, of Adonis' success.

Fireworks were set ablaze as champagne bottles were uncorked, a myriad of voices coming together in a cacophony of chatter and explosions in the distance. 

Adonis stood in his dressing room, straightening his blazer, tugging gently at his collar, smoothing the wrinkles of his shirt -- he was wracked with nerves; despite his profession as a performer, these after-parties and all gatherings of the like frightened him nonetheless.

A simple mask, black as the rose he adorned as his boutonnière, was lifted gently from the vanity, and as he adorned it he glanced at himself in the mirror.

He was scarcely recognizable, his face shrouded entirely in darkness, his clothes far too formal for his own taste, and yet he wore them nonetheless, as he was obligated to attend tonight's ball after his rather successful performance. 

The clock strikes ten and Adonis ponders for a moment how soon he should make an appearance. 

Of course, he knows the sooner he does the sooner he can leave, but something draws him away from the party below.

A something that, in reality, was a someone, a someone that he had come to know as his distant admirer - a someone he has grown terribly fond of over the course of the past few months, perhaps even begun to care for in a strange way. He finds himself missing his Phantom now, wishing, waiting for him to appear and whisk him away from the masquerade below, but to his disappointment he does not appear neither behind him nor in the mirror before him, and alone is Adonis left in his dressing room. 

He glances towards the singular rose that is left on his vanity, black like the one he himself has on his lapel, with a ribbon tied gently around the stem, a small note left under with terribly neat writing lining the paper:

"For my dearly beloved ghost."

Adonis turns towards the door, the gift left as an offering, a temptation maybe in hopes for his savior to find him before the night ends.

While he is nervous, Adonis finds himself mingling with the other guests, drinking and laughing, dancing with and befriending many of the women to approach him over the night's course. He hears the belltower distantly strike midnight, and cheers ring out as the New Year officially begins. He finds himself laughing lightly as he spins with yet another partner in dance, a waltz rapidement, her giggles infectious as they dance some strange mixture of intimacy and lighthearted fun.

He can feel the eyes burning into him from afar, and he knows that finally his darling Ghost has returned.

"Your attention elsewhere?" he hears the woman, who seems vaguely disappointed.

"My apologies, you see these parties, they make me quite anxious."

"Oh! But there is no need to worry," her voice dips and her tone changes, seductive and hopeful all the same, "We can slip away, if you'd like."

"N-No, I can't --"

"Come on, doesn't the star performer deserve such a reward for sharing with us his talent?"

Ah, so his disguise wasn't so clever after all.

"Madame, with due respect, I must decline."

She rips herself away from him in a huff, "I am not good enough for you?"

"It's not that at all -"

"And to think I have wasted my time so! Were you not anything more than a stagehand just a few months ago? Why, as a patron of this theater you should be thanking me for even daring to give you an audience!"

Adonis was stunned, unsure of how to react, how to handle the situation which seemed only to spiral the more he spoke. Instead he looked at her, this apparent patron of the Populaire, then away. Leaving might be his best option, he decides.

"Don't walk away from me, you streetrat!" 

Now, heads began to turn towards the (rather one-sided) argument occurring. Others continued their conversations, their dances, their drinking, but the few that turned their attention towards him made Adonis feel terribly ill. His chest feels tight, and he found himself blinking away tears as the masked woman continued to barrage him with insults. At last she stopped, took a breath, and hissed towards him "Leave me to be then, you talentless waste of time. I pity the man that finds himself in your presence. You are nothing, and you always have been." 

She storms off then, leaving Adonis a speechless, shaking mess, his anxieties overtaking him as he too rushes out of the hall. He speeds through the Opera's corridors, up the stairs, further and further until he finds himself gasping for fresh air on one of the many balconies outside of the private dressing rooms.

He scarcely knows he's crying, for he's too focused on trying to catch his breath which seems so far gone from him he finds it hard to stand -- a coughing and sputtering mess, his chest feels closed and his lungs are heavy, disallowing any air in. He is panicking, tearing the mask away and crying as he tries so hard to calm himself.

At last when he can finally breathe he wipes away the tears, instead leaning over the guard of the balcony and staring down.

How he hated himself so. The things she said to him, were they true? Never had he felt adequate before, and until recently he truly believed himself to be as seemingly worthless as she had made him out to be. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps he'd be better off --

It was then he heard the creak of the door behind him.

"She is a fool. She knows nothing of your talent."

Adonis can't bear to face him yet, though he wishes for nothing more than to collapse into his arms.

"Jealousy is the harshest of our emotions, isn't it?"

He should know, it had been boiling inside of him since he saw his Darling Angel dancing without him tonight. Not that he should ever admit it, but he felt so strongly for the young actor in front of him now, he could barely stand the thought of him giving his time to those so unappreciative, and in return be left so broken. He knew too well the feeling.

He approached him slowly, a hand barely coming out to touch Adonis, but was quickly pulled away. Erik had heard his quiet sobs, and with it his heart shattered. He was unsure how to comfort him, all he could do is stand there, contemplating.

Thinking, thinking of all the times Adonis had comforted him when he was left battered and bruised by the world above, all the soft touches and lingering glances, wandering hands and fleeting few moments of silence between the two. How terribly he wishes he could brush away Adonis' tears and find him once again smiling, able to hold him and recite to him all of the reasons he --

"Perhaps the world is better off without me."

"No. No," Erik cuts himself off, torn between his feelings of affection and his horrid fear of rejection, please, he pleads to himself, know how much I adore you, my Dearest Angel.

"I'm sure you feel the same. Take no pity on me, Phantom. You may leave as the rest of them. I think soon I will find myself far from here, I don't deserve the attention I seek from you."

"Anywhere you go, let me go too," Erik finds the words falling from his tongue before he can stop them, and he reaches out again, this time turning Adonis towards him, and in a bout of inconceivable sorrow and longing, his hand comes to rest on the singer's cheek, his thumb brushing away the tear that sits there shining against his skin in the moonlight, "My Angel, that's all I ask of you." 

Erik is unsure of what has come over him, but his thumb traces gently along Adonis' lips.

How terribly he longs to kiss him, to understand his sadness and share in the sorrow that they two indulge themselves in, to bind them together and cure the loneliness that seems to plague himself so. And he knows this is a selfish wish, but so many nights left him inconsolable in his solitude and strife, he felt almost too selfish to stop himself.

But it was Adonis who moved first, so suredly did he pull Erik's face to his own, kissing him with a passion neither of the two had known before, unbeknownst by Erik to have even been harbored for him by the young actor. He did not stop him, though, and instead indulged in the feeling of Adonis so close, so trusting in him to leave himself so defenseless in his time of weakness. Adonis' hands came to rest upon Erik's cheeks, his thumbs tracing his jaw, holding him still close for another kiss. In return, Erik found himself dropping the rose he had taken from Adonis' dressing room, the one which he held so tightly in his grip, and instead tilting Adonis' chin upwards, inviting him to kiss him again, and again, and as many times as he could draw from the performer, so desperate for contact, desperate for affection.

At last Adonis pulls himself away from Erik's trembling lips, and rests instead his head against the taller man's shoulder.

"I might be inclined to stay, were you by my side."

"Always and forever, so long as you need me with you, here beside you."

Say you love me -- 

Erik holds Adonis close, fingers tracing lightly along his back, his only hope to comfort the other.

Adonis sighs, his final attempt to steady his breathing, "Please, let me stay with you tonight."

You know I do.

"As you wish, my Darling Angel."

[dracwife]

i think that's a radio? emoji + erik because that must have some intenseeee music on it

aaa yes ty dani !!

the obvious song here is gods & monsters by lana del rey, which i named the ship after --

In the land of Gods and Monsters / I was an angel / Living in the garden of evil / Screwed up, scared, doing anything that I needed / Shining like a fiery beacon

You got that medicine I need / Fame, liquor, love, give it to me slowly / Put your hands on my waist, do it softly / Me and God, we don't get along

So now I sing

i think the lyrics speak for themselves, but honestly it has a lot to do with the. religious undertones, angels and all that, comparison of people to monsters (which is a whole subplot involving adonis as well as the obvious one with erik), and of course singing.

oh yeah also the sexual overtones if the songs that go hand in hand with those in poto

[dracwife]

Erik, what was your first impression on Rex and how has it changed now? -soulnottainted

Ah,

my Darling Angel.

I was curious at first, I will admit. It was strange, I'm sure many have the same first impression, but the moment I heard his voice, I was entranced -- and when I met him...

Simply devine.

My Adonis is an extremely talented young man, there is no doubt, but as I have grown to know him I have realized that he too shares in my sorrows, a thing that we have come to affix on and bond over. He has made me feel whole, complete, and in return I give him the teaching he requests and do my best to ensure the world may experience his brilliance as I have, in his interest of course.

Your inquiry is ever appreciated by us both.

[ @soulnottainted ]

[dracwife]

dont tell anyone i have a soft spot for kerik

[dracwife]

adonis is op someone stop him

- trans

- passing

- good actor

- good singer

- gets the ladies but is gay

- can hit the high note in phantom

[dracwife]

you know what maybe in my brain we are dueting gently in the moonlight something about we are different and outcasts and what if we were both sad but sad together and something something isnt all of humanity just outcasts on the inside it just depends on who they choose to exile from their society so lets not waste our time alone when we have each other and why do we need more than that when our love is imcomperable to the wickness of the cruel world we live in so what?

[dracwife]

[ tag dump for my ships oops ]