Hearken to me, haters of Erik, antishippers of E/C: “If I am the Phantom it is because man’s hatred has made me so and if I am to be saved it is because your love redeems me.” Or in the musical the fact that when the Phantom first tells Christine he loves her… It is also the very last thing he tells her. Or the fact that Erik in fact happily dies of a broken heart since he loves her so much and she gave him everything with so little. The fact that he never won, he never knew any kindness and he had to go through some extremely dark places and still – still he could believe in love and beauty, after a life where he’d had neither.
Erik is not a villain. Erik is no evil mastermind. He is a dreamer beaten down, a lover of beauty mocked by fate, a pure heart delving in loneliness, a magnificent mind held back by the sorrowful reality of the body.
And he wasn’t about taking, not until everything went wrong, not after he was redeemed. He was gentle and he wanted to give Christine everything. He did not care about fame or money – all that was for her. But in the end he gave her everything by letting her leave with the Vicomte.
All he ever asked for? A normal life. A living bride. Someone to touch him and not die.
This gif is from the triumph commonly known as the 25th anniversary. Ramin honours Erik’s character with his Final Lair scene. And Sierra does the same for Christine. This gif destroys me softly. Christine stops to glance back one last time and this is what the Phantom does. Nods. Let’s her go. Acknowledges that everything went wrong, that he “loved her too much and dived too deep”. She knows this, too. But that doesn’t stop love. In fact, it makes it spark, bloom, shine. This is the moment they both finally see clearly. (//In the book this moment is the one where E/C cry together.)
This right here is what makes The Phantom of the Opera a tragedy. Not the murders, not Erik’s own demise, not his spiralling into hurtful madness. The tragedy of his character comes out in the light of his redemption. The tragedy of all-consuming love which is unfulfilled and still gives all, takes life, makes one human.
This kind of love story never gets old. Innocent and easy as Christine and Raoul’s love might’ve been, their story alone wouldn’t have lived this long. PotO is the Ghost’s love story, and love he did, with a fervour unequaled. And that took the courage of a hero, as did seeing clearly, as did letting her go. The Phantom of the Opera is the hero of his own story, and he never knew it.
“What are you talking about?” You asked Elena, completely beffudled. You couldn’t even think straight because of all the alcohol you drank. It was one of many girls night out you, Bonnie, Caroline and Elena had. It was always funny, goofying around, and od course asking eachother inappropriate questions. Yeah it was true you didn’t have a boyfriend in a while, but hooking up with a guy for one night is not the best idea. Especially if you’re drunk.
‘Oh, c'mon! You’ll thank me later. No not later. Tomorrow.’ Elena said, putting her arm on your shoulder, laughing more than it was actually funny.
‘You guys are so drunk. And crazy’ you said and got up, heading to the restrooms. As if being drunk wasn’t doing any favours to you, you felt like someone’s following you. Watching your every step. Since the moment you walked into Mystic Grill to the moment you ordered your first drink. You tried to convince yourself it was just in your imagination and a consequence of too much alcohol in your blood stream.
'Guys, I think I’m gonna head home.’ 'Already?’ Caroline asked, pouting. 'Yeah, I don’t feel well and I have to get up early tomorrow.’ 'Party pooper’ Elena said, and danced at the same time. You just laughed before taking your jacket and your purse, walking out of the Grill, chilly spring breeze hitting your face. You wrapped your arms around yourself as you walked through dark-ish streets of Mystic Falls. You’ve never walked this slow in your life. Thank god you weren’t wearing heels because who knows how the hell you’d get home. Maybe with a broken ankle. Or barefoot. Yes, definitely barefoot.
You finally reached your house, taking out your keys and unlocking the door, stumbling over your own feet.
'Dammit!’ You mumled, throwing your purse on the couch and took off your shoes. Entering your bedroom, you took your clothes off and put on your PJ before heading to the bathroom to brush your teeth. Suddenly you hear a noise. Like someone knocked over a lamp.
'Hello?’ You asked, now fear going through your body. 'Is anybody there?’ No response. You quickly rinsed and went to your bedroom, getting into your bed. Minutes passed and you tried to forget about what just happened so you turned off the light and rolled onto the other side, falling asleep.
Even in your sleep you felt like someone’s right beside you, watching your every move, even whispering something in your ear or touching your arm, painfully, touching your arm. You quickly opened your eyes and you could’ve sworn you saw a dark figure standing in front of your bedroom window. You shook your head and went back to sleep, trying not to think about it anymore because it would either keep you up all night or make you call someone to keep you company until you fall asleep.
'You guys are rude’ you almost whispered, hungover taking over your body. Every word, every step, every whisper just felt too loud. Hightened. 'There, now you know how vampires feel when everything is heightened’ Caroline said, laughing. 'Ha ha, very funny.’ 'Hey, that guy over there’ she pointed at him (wow), 'is looking at you. Like all the time.’ You turned around and smiled at him. 'Maybe I should-’ 'No!’ Bonnie snapped at you, making you, Elena and Caroline look at her in confussion. 'Why not?’ You asked. 'Remember that guy Damon and I met in prison world?’ 'You mean the one who killed his own family and is a complete sociopath?’ 'Bingo. That’s him. Kai Parker. So, y/n, stay away from him unless you want to end up like his family did.’ 'Noted.’ You said, assuring Bonnie you’d stay away from him, feeling frightened now more than ever because you had nothing to protect yourself with. Well, you did have magic. Bonnie taught you some of the spells, but you were far from being as good as Bonnie.
Girls left, leaving you alone at Mystic Grill. You need some time on your own. You were writing something in your notebook when you heard a male voice.
You looked up and saw him. Malachai freaking Parker. The worse of the worst. Your heart started beating like crazy, even though you kept telling yourself to calm down. He would never do anything that would make him to reveal himself in front of all these people. Right?
'I… I gotta go.’ You stuttered, trying to get up, but his hand gripped your shoulder, feeling the pain you’ve never experienced in your life before. It made you sit down again, squirm under his grip. He let you go after a few seconds, the pain completely disappearing.
'What… what the hell did you just do to me?’ You gasped.
'Oh, I just siphoned some of your magic. Thanks for that btw. Hey, how do you know Bonnie?’ He asked, taking some of the leftover fries you had on your plate.
'Siphoned? What does that even mean?’
'I just showed you what it means, duh.’ He said, laughing, crossing his arms.
'Yeah, I don’t have time for this so..’ you got up but he caught your arm again, this time without siphoning.
'Tell your friends, if I don’t get what I want, I’ll siphon every single part of magic you have in your body and let me tell you, it doesn’t end well. Oh and, thanks for that little part of you. It was very refreshing.’ He said, getting up and walking out of the grill, leaving you stumped and very confused. You grabbed all your stuff and quickly went to Salvatore’s house, knowing everyone will be there.
“the voice you hear your thoughts in is your soulmate’s but you don’t know who they are until you hear them speak for the first time”
A/N: Let me just say how fucking amazed I am that so many of you enjoyed/loved part one of soul mate! I honestly did not expect that many of you to, let alone, want another part/mini series! Thank you so much for the support (?) and I truly hope you enjoy this part. I thought to make things a bit slow here since I may just make this into a mini series kind of fic! Let me know what you think! BTW, the temperature is considered to be in fahrenheit (sorry if you use celsius!) [GIF NOT MINE]
Word Count: 2.4K+
Warning: Cursing…that’s about it? Kylo nearly punches a whole in a table, but I think we’re good.
“You are mine.” His last words plagued your thoughts, echoing throughout your mind and sending shivers down your spine. “You are mine.” The force he had put on the word ‘mine’ terrified you, as if you had been some sort of…object? As if you were something that he could keep on display in his room for the galaxy–or just him–to see. “Mine.” You gulped at the way the word rolled off of his tongue, the amount of possession being enforced. Those three words haunted you, your heart now in your throat as the amount of pressure from its pounding vibrated through your ears. I am no ones, but my own.
Author’s note: Thank You @justang6 for sending me this super cute prompt, I love it! And I hope you do too! It was so much fun two write. I do not own the gif, found on google. Please ignore any spelling errors, ily all! Xoxoxo :3
Prompt: Could you do an one shot of the reader cooking dinner, and Pietro coming along and flirts with her as she is cooking dinner; trying to distract her, taking the brownie batter wiping it on her face. Major fluff and her father (Tony) walks in and says “that’s where we eat. Take out it is.”
(((Oh, and BTW, there is going to be a lot of fluff in this so be ready for cuteness overload)))
“Make Out or Take Out?”
Pietro always did this. You would even tell him that he is not allowed in the kitchen when you are cooking because he never lets you focus on what you are doing. You told him that he was not to come in until after you were done, but then he wanted a glass of juice…and he never left.
“Pietro…” You groaned whilst trying to make sure that the stir fry that you were cooking wasn’t burning. His lips were pressed against your neck and his large arms were wrapped around your torso, his hands resting on your hips. You hadn’t been dating for very long, just a week or two. Your father, Tony Stark, didn’t really like it all that much, but he still wanted you to be happy so he tried not to bother you about it. You had kissed Pietro a few times, but nothing too crazy, you guys were taking it rather slow.
“I-I can’t cook like this, you have to stop.” You said, though you couldn’t fight the smile that graced your lips.
He pulled away just enough to see your face. “Ah, but I see that you are smiling. You do not want me to stop, not really.”
You swatted his arm and pushed him away lightly, averting you eyes to the now black veggies in the pan.
“Damn,” You mutter, and turn off the stove and go back to the cutting board to cut more onions and bell peppers.
Pietro stood on the tips of his toes and looked around the room, like he wanted something to do. “I can help you, if you need me too?”
You laugh at the thought. “No, no. You have no sense of time, you can never tell when the food is done or not and you end up pulling it out early because you grow impatient. That, and it’s probably not a good idea to have you in the kitchen with me any more than you have to be.”
Pietro came up to you and forced to you look at him, and as soon as you see him you almost melt. His blue eyes are drooping down at he is looking at you through his eyelashes, he even has his bottom lip puffed out. Something as cliché and childish really shouldn’t have made you crumble, but he was just so…so damn cute.
“Fine!” You gave up, then pointed to the counter area next to you. “I’ll handle the dinner, and you can make the brownies, okay?”
Pietro kissed you on both cheeks within a second, then zoomed all over the kitchen getting all of the supplies needed to make the dessert.
“So, why the big dinner anyway?” Pietro asked as he read the back of the brownie package.
“My dad, Bruce, Nat, Clint, and Steve are coming over. They offered to get take out for dinner, but I thought that it would be nice for me–I mean us— to make it instead.”
Pietro walked over and squeezed you cheeks like a grandmother to a child. “I must tell you darling, you are so cute when you get determined.”
You roll your eyes and blush, then go back to cutting the veggies.
A refreshing quiet fell over the kitchen, well, at least it was refreshing to you. Pietro found any sort of calm unnerving. His blue eyes darted from side to side as he mixed the brownie mix, looking for something to say or do to break the silence.
Pietro dipped his finger into the brown, sticky mix and grinned.
You felt something gooey hit your cheek, and right away you knew what it was. You slowly reached up and ran your fingers over he the chocolate goo sighed.
Pietro was looking away from you and was whistling while he mixed the batter. He was whistling.
“Pietro…” You said in a low, yet humored voice.
“Yes, baby?” He answered innocently, still not looking at you.
You walked over to him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, holding him in place. “You wouldn’t know how I got brownie mix on my face, right?”
He looked up at the ceiling, still not meeting your eyes. “Now, why would I know something like that Y/N?”
Quickly, while he was looking in the other direction, you grabbed a handful of the brownie batter and smeared it across the young Avenger’s face.
He sat there in shock for a second, allowing you to ran out into the dinning area of the kitchen with the dinning table.
“Y/N!” Pietro shouted, then in a flash he was by your side.
You screamed out of surprise and laughed at his face, which was smothered with brown mix.
He caught you with his arms around your waste and pulled you towards him.
“No!” Your shouted as he rubbed his face over your shoulders and face.
You reached up and dragged your finger along his cheek, then stuck it in you mouth. The mix did taste really good.
You both smiled at each other, and then he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. Pietro lifted you up and set you on the kitchen table, then he deepened the kiss. His hand knotted in your hair and pulled you closer to him, making you moan against his lips. He smiled and parted his lips more, making the whole thing more urgent.
You heard someone clear their throat, and you looked up to see your dad, Tony Stark, with his arms crossed and his eyebrow cocked up.
“That’s where we eat.” Tony said, pointing to the table that was currently under your butt. He looked around the kitchen, taking in the fact that nothing was actually cooked and that brownie mix was everywhere. Sighing, he said, “Well, take out it is.”
“I really fucked up this time, Sammy. I really did.” Dean whispered.
“Hey, baby. Where are you going?” I asked as Dean grabbed his jacket and keys. “Out.” He said quickly. “It’s 2 in the morning. Where the hell do you need to be this late in the night?” I was getting furious. Where the hell did he need to be? “Y/N, I’m just going out. I’ll be back later. Bye.” Just like that he was gone. Without an explanation, a kiss goodbye, or an ‘I love you’. Just like that he was gone.
Few weeks ago Dean had started to act funny. He was…distant. He changed. We changed. He would no longer kiss my lips in the early morning to wake me up. He would no longer sneak up behind me and kiss my cheek as he pulled me into his warm embrace. He would no longer hold me tight and whisper into my ear that everything was going to be okay. He would no longer wipe my tears when everything felt as though the world beneath me was crumbling. He would no longer do any of it. Nothing.
And the worse part of it all? He knew you knew that everything you guys shared, would no longer exist.
“Hey, y/n?” Sammy’s voices brought you back to reality. “You okay?” You didn’t even realize you were still in the library where you had last seen Dean. “Hey.” You turned to see Sam standing next to you with his hand on your shoulder.
You couldn’t hold it in anymore. You just couldn’t. “It hurts so bad, Sam.” You cried into his plaid shirt.
At first he was shocked but he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in tight. “Everything’s gonna be alright, y/n. Whatever it is. Dean and I will make it better. I promise.” He rubbed circle patterns on your back to erasure you that what he was saying was true. Little did he know that the cause of your pain was Dean, himself.
You were laying in your bed with Sam sitting on the edge of it. Patiently waiting for you to calm down and talk to him.
“He hates me, Sam.” You finally said with a raspy voice. But you still hadn’t made eye contact with him. “Dean?” You nodded holding back tears. “Why would you say that?” He asked. “Oh come on, Sam. Don’t you see it?” You were yelling now. Sitting up, looking directly into his eyes and releasing whatever tears you had left.
“Don’t you get it? He doesn’t look at me the same way. He doesn’t kiss me anymore. He doesn’t wake up next to me anymore. He doesn’t touch me anymore. He-” you couldn’t breathe. “He doesn’t l-love me anymore.” You cried out. Covering you face with your hands.
Sam couldn’t and didn’t say anything else. He knew that Dean was pushing you away. But he didn’t know what he was doing to her. To see the girl he saw as a sister falling apart in front of him and not being able to do anything. It killed him.
He watched you sleep and slowly leaned down and kissed your forehead. Getting up slowly and walked out of your room and closed the door behind him.
That’s when he heard Dean walk in. But he wasn’t alone.
“Stay quiet, baby.” He whispered to the annoying high pitched giggling chick he was holding.
“Dean?” Dean looked up to see Sam standing in the middle of the library. “Hey ya, Sammy.” Was he seriously drunk? Sam thought.
“You’ve got to be kidding me?” Sam asked him. “You need to leave.” “Wait, what? Dean, do something!” The girl yelped to Dean. But Dean couldn’t hear her. “Dean!” Both Sam and the girl yelled for his attention. But no answer.
Sam turned to see Dean staring at you crying. You couldn’t speak. Or move. You just watched the sight in front of you.
something borrowed (jongin) word count: 1194 w. genre: mild!dirtytalking, slight!smut summary:
jongin thinks his girlfriend looks great in swarovski chokers.
The bedroom door creaked open as an exhausted Jongin beelined to the bed. He requested his manager to drop him right off your apartment. These past few days just drained Jongin’s energy with the late-night practices, endless gayo’s and their cramped schedule.
He needed to recharge somehow and what other thing would be great for filling up his energy other than spending time with his precious girlfriend. That was why Jongin, now stretching his limbs, didn’t bother to change into casual clothes. Being all dirty and not tidied up before going to bed was your pet peeve and Jongin was well-aware of that. He’s expecting some rants later on, but he knows how you easily fall weak for his kisses.
Speaking of the devil, were were you?
Still in his stage clothes, Jongin pulled out his phone from his pocket and dialled your number. You probably went out with some friends since it was a holiday, but you always told Jongin if you had events to attend.
Jongin felt vibrations running through his leg from underneath. He flipped the duvet to find your phone laying there. “I can’t believe she left her phone home again.”
Just then, a click was heard from the bathroom door, unlocking it. You brushed off some lints that stuck on the plaid skirt you were wearing.
“Why are you here?” You eyed your boyfriend who scrambled on the bed, trying to sit up straight.
Taking a glimpse at the latter’s outfit, Jongin stuttered, “Why are you wearing that?”
Cold sweat started accumulating on his forehead. You were wearing a high-waisted plaid skirt that accentuated your waist and a fit white blouse. Kink shaming would embarrass the hell out of him, but here was his fantasy coming true. It was unlike Jongin to voice out his thoughts. However, tonight might be an exception.
“Oh, this?” You looked down on your outfit before meeting Jongin’s piercing gaze. You could sense how there was a sudden shift of mood.
“You see, Kyungsoo’s girlfriend was having a hard time walking earlier in the office. She didn’t tell me why but instead, she gave me this skirt.” Pointing out the item, you tried hard retain your cheery expression.
“And the blouse?”
You replied, “It’s been sitting around in the cabinet for months. It matches well with the skirt, don’t you think?”
Jongin only hummed in response. Tension was building up between the both of you and it made you uneasy. Your mouth went agape then added, “She was sore, by the way. I think it’s Kyungsoo’s fault.”
Tilting his head, Jongin patted on the space beside him on the bed. You gladly complied.
“Hey, you’re still wearing your stage clothes.” It irked you how chilly it was outside and Jongin wore nothing underneath his coat. “It’s dirty! You should change before–”
“Your outfit’s dirty, princess. But you don’t hear me complaining about it,” Jongin growled, leaning in for a closer look. “Hmm, you’re fucking hot.”
Your back collided with the duvet in the blink of an eye as Jongin’s broad frame hovered above you. You spot Jongin’s sinewy muscles peeking below the unbottoned coat. Blood started rushing downwards to god knows where when Jongin swiped a few strands of your hair and tucked it gently behind your ear.
Jongin darkly chuckled over his girlfriend’s stammering. “Do you really want me to stop, princess?”
You fixated your line of sight at Jongin biting his lips. The way his pink tongue glided on his lower lip, making it glisten under the light sent chills down your spine. “I’m gonna ask again.”
This time, his voice was low but stern, demanding command. “Do you want me to stop, princess?”
“No,” you continued, “But, Jongin–”
“Address me correctly, princess.”
You quickly grasped onto his hint. You linked your arms around Jongin’s neck, lessening the distance between their faces. You smirked, “Yes, daddy.”
“Good girl,” Jongin said, his smile, sinister. “How about we let the world know who’s daddy’s baby girl?”
“Do you like that, princess?” You nodded in agreement.
His face descended, targeting your neck. Jongin had a thing for marking his possessions. And it was evident on how Jongin lips lightly nibbled on your neck as you hummed in amusement. Soft whimpers exited your mouth when Jongin started sucking on your neck in a harsh manner.
You fist Jongin’s hair, tugging it as he started to roll his hips while sucking and biting your neck earnestly. Your gasp turned into a choked moan, “Fuck yes, daddy. More.”
“You don’t know how many nights I craved for you. But, fuck,” Jongin lifted your right leg and pushed down on you, creating more friction. More red blotches marked their way down your neck. His raspy voice can make you come right then and there, but you had to save the best for last.
He went on, “Daddy will make sure princess will feel good tonight.”
“I’ll fuck you so hard tonight, you’ll be walking funny like Kyungsoo’s girlfriend tomorrow.”
“Shit, daddy.” You breathed, “Can you come inside my mouth? I want to taste you.”
“Of course, princess. We’re gonna put your pretty mouth into good use.”
Another high pitched whimper escaped from your mouth as Jongin’s fingers applied pressure, rubbing your clothed slit. “You just love being daddy’s little bitch, don’t you?”
“Fuck yeah.” You shamelessly moaned, thrusting harder and faster on Jongin’s palm.
Suddenly, Jongin pinned your hips down just when heat started building below your stomach. He removed his hand, emerging from under your plaid skirt. Jongin eyes seemed to darken more as he stared at you.
He glanced at his fingers, a sheen of wetness coating it from the juices that seeped through your panties.
“Be a good girl and taste yourself.”
You enveloped your mouth around your boyfriend’s digits. You sucked lightly on your juices before giving his fingers a lick or two to finish up. “Did I make you hard, daddy?”
“You always do, baby girl.”
Jongin reached behind his neck, unlatching his Swarovski diamond choker. Then, he lifted your head for leverage so he could wrap the choker around your neck which was now covered in red markings of different sizes.
“It completes your whole outfit.” Jongin raised his brow. A sense of mischief veiled his tone.
He questioned, “You know what looks best on you, princess?”
Jongin whispers coyly in your ear, “Me.”
note: side story to my other kyungsoo drabble. btw, i wrote this for a friend bc she’s a thirsty hoe (like me tbh) |
hello everyone! i’m late with this and pretty much the holidays are over but that doesn’t stop me for posting this. i’m grateful for this blog and the people that follow it which surprises me a lot. i consider you all mutuals so i won’t pin point who is what and so on and also excuse the quality of the pic. i’m hoping you all will have a great year!
happy belated holidays! thank you all and i love you!