His Living Bride

Indie Christine Ask/RP Blog from both LeRoux's novel and ALW's Phantom of the Opera. Mun&Muse 18+ NSFW will be tagged.

[composer-of-the-night-moved]

“shh, shh. you were having a nightmare.” (From @let-her-mind-wonder)

@let-her-mind-wonder

     Erik wakes with a start, chest heaving and eyes wide. His gaze immediately snaps to the woman beside him before recognition fills his features.

     “ Oh, Christine, I -- ”. His throat closes, cutting him off. The man shudders, burying his face in his hands. Nightmares like this aren’t rare for him -- but it is the first time Christine has seen him in such a state, and he is ashamed. 

     “ I...I apologize, ” he mutters. 

[let-her-mind-wonder]

“Shh...” Christine soothees, reaching up to lightly wrap a shawl around his trembling shoulders. Then, very slowly, she settled down in front of him. “You have no need to apologize. ...You gave me a fright, but-but I am glad I could be here to pull you from such a horrid thing.”

She reaches forward to pull the ends of the shawl tighter around him and her hand trails along his outer arm. “...Would you care to speak of it?”

[let-her-mind-wonder]

"Boo!" - Erik to Christine; @xfriend-or-phantomx (withinkandquill)

Lost in her novel, Christine had not caught sound of the footfalls coming closer to her. Her eyes devoured each word, letting her mind wonder at the descriptions of the frightful goblins haunting the pages. Just as her index finger wound around a curl, reading the horrid descriptions of the blood thirsty demons...that is when Erik’s sudden surprise broke the silence.

Christine yelped, yanking her finger back and tugging her hair practically out of her head. The book dropped and her body flailed, twisting and turning around as color flooded her cheeks. Her bright eyes fell upon the conniving man and her brows furrowed.

“Erik!” she cried out, aghast. “You-! That was not funny!”

[xfriend-or-phantomx-a]

A low, deep chuckle emenates from the man as he watches Christine's surprise. It is the kind of immature joy one would expect from a rambunctious child, not a dignified adult, but it makes him happy, in a way, as if it feeds the desires of the child he never got to be.

"I am sorry," he says. He's not. Not really. "I expected it to be more humorous for you as well. A harmless little jest, really."

[let-her-mind-wonder]

Christine scrunched her nose at Erik in response, before she ran a hand through her hair. Maybe she should have been more immediately forgiving. After all, there were so few things that brought Erik joy in life. But why did it have to be at her expense?

“No you are not,” she replied, sticking her tongue out at him in an equally childlike response. “And now I have lost my place in my book. And it was a good one. too!”

[let-her-mind-wonder]

dude fair warning i made this for the rpc on tumblr this is intended for characters not for like, actual people. i hope u have a good day!

you were meant to

it was built into you. designed for you. there is pain here because it was meant for you, and how fucking dare they. your suffering is not their right. you hurt because they gave you ways to suffer and carved it into you when you could not breathe, because the intention always was that they could weaponize your pain against you. it is Yours. You are Yours. How fucking dare they. they cannot make you theirs; do not let them try.

TAGGED BY: @askerikidestram

TAGGING: everyone

[mushfae]

[let-her-mind-wonder]

"Boo!" - Erik to Christine; @xfriend-or-phantomx (withinkandquill)

Lost in her novel, Christine had not caught sound of the footfalls coming closer to her. Her eyes devoured each word, letting her mind wonder at the descriptions of the frightful goblins haunting the pages. Just as her index finger wound around a curl, reading the horrid descriptions of the blood thirsty demons...that is when Erik’s sudden surprise broke the silence.

Christine yelped, yanking her finger back and tugging her hair practically out of her head. The book dropped and her body flailed, twisting and turning around as color flooded her cheeks. Her bright eyes fell upon the conniving man and her brows furrowed.

“Erik!” she cried out, aghast. “You-! That was not funny!”

[ladynephthyss]

she’s mad. 

[musingovermusings]

I’D CRAWL THROUGH HELL…

                                                                   if it meant I could keep you.

[jennyfair7]

I saw a few pictures of this book when I used to only lurk on Tumblr and had to have it!  I found it on Amazon.fr if you’re interested - adapted by Christine Beigel, illustrated by Christel Espié.  Sadly there’s no Persian, but otherwise it’s gorgeous and I had to share!

[simena]

John Vanderbank (detail)

[wollfling]

ig: cherub_ (Don’t delete my caption, thank you!)

[whosnatalia]

𝚍 𝚎 𝚕 𝚒 𝚌 𝚊 𝚝 𝚎

[thevoyageout]

Ethereal

[tinypixiie]

[leftyoudreamless]

Da Vinci’s garden - Amboise, France

[let-her-mind-wonder]

@composer-of-the-night​

[softmoonet]

[let-her-mind-wonder]

@composer-of-the-night​

[composer-of-the-night-moved]

“I’m so embarrassed I can feel the redness of my face” (from Let her mind wonder!)

  @let-her-mind-wonder

     “ Luckily no one but I saw you, ” Erik laughed, bending down to offer Christine a hand. The streets along the Seine were all but deserted this early in the winter morning - it was the only time the opera ghost felt comfortable enough being outside in the light. During their walk, Christine had unfortunatly slipped on a small patch of ice, and was currently crumpled on the cold ground; he’d almost gone down with her she had been clinging to his arm so tightly!

     “ Are you all right? ” he asked as she stood up. There was a bit of concern in his voice now. “ Does anything hurt? ”

[let-her-mind-wonder]

Christine was rather funny in that way - once she had said what she willed and claimed it as her own, there was no hesitation and no doubt of the choice she made. She knew this to be true from the earliest point of her life, and it was true even now, as Erik kissed her tenderly. She would never have thought this night, so snowy and cold, could possess such warmth.

He spoke in sweet vows and promises already, and Christine could not help but smile at the words he spoke. “Oh, that would be wonderful! Let the winged seraphs of heaven covet you and I for our happiness in such a holy place.”

But all her words were taken away as he removed his glove and placed a precious ring upon her finger. Christine saw it a few times before, catching the distant and dim candlelight. Now as it slipped upon her finger, she wished it never removed from her skin. 

“Oh, Erik! A house of our own? That would be wonderful!” she exclaimed, and in her mind she began to dream up all sorts of sweet and delightful ideas. Cooking and baking, mending his shirts, staying up til late hours singing together in their parlor. A home with no more darkness, no more damp and lonesome halls, just the brightness of their love, of a hopeful future.

“Think of a name, and it shall be yours and mine,” Christine urged. She longed to leave the name Daae behind her, just as he had no wish to reclaim his own. It was cathartic in a way, to shed such things, and embrace only what could be. “I fear we may not have the chance to perform in another Opera House,” she confessed. “For surely the Opera Populaire is so grand and renowned that word of me - perhaps even of us - has traveled throughout Europe. But I do not need it, Erik. I do not need the stage. Perhaps I may but sing in a vicar’s choir, or teach music to children, and I shall be happy to have even that.”

[composer-of-the-night-moved]

     Erik had never felt such happiness in his entire life. Finally, he would be free of the opera house and live a normal life with Christine. Waking up every morning with her by his side, the two of them no longer needing to hide their love for each other. He’d take her away from the horrid gossip of the Opera Populaire, and they would have a safe home full of music and love. Perhaps he’d pick up architecture again, both as a hobby and another source of income. Only through music had Erik ever felt his soul soar, but now, imagining his future with Christine, he felt almost weightless. All of his usual melancholy had left him as joy surged through his veins.

     “ I will think of one, ma ange - a name for us. ” A name that represented their new beginnings. He would truly leave the identity of the Phantom behind, once and for all. He began to gently tug at a curl of her brown hair, wrapping it around his finger. “ With a new name, you may not be recognized as Christine Daaé, ” he pointed out. “ But, I understand if you do not wish to perform again my love - there are other ways to share your gift. ” It had been his dream for Christine to be renown throughout the world as a star, but he knew how much she hated the life of an opera soprano. The pettiness, the gossip, the scandal - it seemed unavoidable. But he knew Christine’s love of music would never fade; they could still sing together, in the privacy of their home.

     “ I shall begin planning tomorrow - and you must find a dress. ” An image of Christine dressed in the finest silks and lace came to mind, and he fondly stroked her cheek. “ I will give you the appropriate funds. There is a dress maker located on the Rue de la Paix, I believe. ”

[let-her-mind-wonder]

There was nothing in the world Christine would love more than to disappear with Erik into the French countryside. Or just anywhere quiet. Christine did not care where they would end up, just that they would be together and that it would be quiet. With all the bombastic music which ruled their lives, it was strange to think that she sought quiet, yet it was true.

“It does not matter if I am Christine Daae,” she urged as she lightly pressed his hand between hers. “I merely wish to be Christine, your dearest. And after everything that has happened...I almost think I would be far happier merely teaching others as you have taught me rather than being on stage. Or singing in the choir of some lovely chapel in the middle of no where. Something calm and quiet and green...that is all I would long for.”

Christine could imagine it now, a cottage in the middle of a small path of green, a place just for them. Where they could be happy. Where they could be one another’s love without the scorn of the rest of the world. Without a care for what anyone else thought or felt.

“A dress?” she gasped as she leaned against his hand. “Oh! Oh, but we must be cautious. Should anyone find out...I fear they may try to convince us otherwise. Or else linger in their pursuit of you. We must travel somewhere away from Paris, somewhere quiet that has never heard of us - of our story. There we may marry.”

[cyberhedgehog233]

Erik: Christine...

[filthybonnet]

This would have made Restaged Tour make so much more sense.