#delanuit

[noblehcart]

@delanuit

Again the doors had slammed shut. The halls lengthened then shortened then twisted and climbed higher and lower. Breathless after forcing a door shut with the unbelievable behind its wooden fame she tried to sort through her senses. This house was magic. Beyond any sort of magic she had ever heard of. Far beyond that of the djinni she had heard of or spirits or anything of the like.

The scarf wrapped loosely over her head had slipped in the midst of her scouting through the home for someone- anyone- her husband most importantly. Something had led her here. A tug at the heart that brought her feet here to this place in an inexplicable, unexplainable way. She didn't know if she could ever find her way back to this place once she left...that is if she ever was able to leave.

Dark eyes narrowed to the archway now in front of her. That was not there a moment ago.

Fingers brushed back dark strands of hair behind her ear as she stepped away from the door she had closed and towards the open arch that seemed to beckon with a soft glow- she had forgotten that friendly intentions were often lures, that is until she stepped through and heard the soft swoosh behind. Turning sharply on her heel to the archway she found it was gone as if it had never been there and now she was in a room with no entrance, doors or windows.

But there was someone there at least.

"Where am I? " She asked stepping closer as the dark red cloak swirled softly against her legs. She refrained from introductions. There was one thing she did know and it was that this place was seeped in magic- fae like magic. If there was one other thing she knew it was the power of her name. Not one to be given away. " What is this place? "

[herstoriies]

@delanuit continued from here 🎶

Maybe it was chance that Le Fantome would appear, maybe it was the little nuances she had begun to pick up to look for his presence. Either way, Erik had become most genuinely welcomed. The rose brought delighted surprise as Priscilla's face illuminated with a smile. Her gloved delicate hand outstretched to take it and admire it - with maybe a secret glint of bashfulness she hardly showed to none other in the opera house,

“ It is something we do both look forward to now ” she played back, letting out a warm chuckle, her fingers tracing the petals, “ Thank you, Maestro. An honor coming from someone so highly musically talented as yourself. La! It took such effort not to lose oneself to the music! ”

[songandflame-archived]

“He was bound to love you when he heard you sing.”

Phantom of the Opera Starters || @delanuit (thank you!)

A bitter sweet smile finds Fantine's lips. It took less than that; her hair alone was enough to attract his attention. That, and what she had now learned was her naivety.

She was no prodigy, but after hearing Tholomyès sing one too many times, Fantine found the bravery to join in too. He found a new way to fawn over her; in drunken stupor he often insisted she sing solo. It was not love— it was an opportunity to show off his muse.

"Love is the wrong word." Fantine pulls her shawl across bony shoulders. "He was incapable of love and nothing could change that. If anything I mourn for his wife. A loveless marriage is nothing short of hell."

[extraordinarygrrls]

continued from here

"It's..." A heavy sigh escaped her, watching him gently placing the rose on the grave of Geraldine Jammes. "It's fine. It was inevitable, I guess. When it first happened, when she... Died. I thought I failed her, it took a while to deal with it. I'm... Still dealing with it." She played with her hands.

"I think there could be, there's always a better way. A way to fix things, and solve issues. If everyone just stopped for five minutes-" She was getting frustrated, seeing him here, out of the blue. "If there was one conversation, between everyone. No tricks, no threats, no ghosts, just... Honesty."

She shook her head, it was too late to think about it. What happened happened, and she was left behind to pick up the pieces the Phantom left behind. "It happened a few months after... Everything. I kept working there, I had to, but nothing changed, she just got worse. She decided when to go, in the end, she told me to take our savings out of the floorboards, get some food, and when I came back... Arsenic, she had it stashed away, she'd been in pain for a while. Money was getting tight to, so she knew it would be her or me..." It had been less than a year since then. She went to the grave every Sunday. "I still do some work for them, I don't dance anymore, can't bring myself to jump around no more, just... Odd jobs. I just don't know what to do with myself anymore. Guessing you're in the same boat?"

@delanuit

[twistedcveryway]

@delanuit sent: ❝ I have been generous up ‘til now; I can be cruel. ❞

"Generous?"

The incredulous echo tumbles from her lips before she can think better of it, and she turns slowly to face Erik. Some part of her knows that it is foolish to challenge him this way, but all of the deception and control and fear have worn her nerves raw; something inside of Christine has broken, and in this moment she cannot hold her tongue.

"When have you been generous? Was it when you lied to me to earn my devotion? When you took me down below the opera house and tried to keep me here, was that your generosity? Were you generous when you deemed yourself the master of who I may engage with, where I may go? Was none of that cruelty?"

[typhoidcaught]

@delanuit said: "the old shade looks over at this fresh one"...

"Oh...I'm sorry to hear that."

He says it like he isn't very sorry at all. He's not, not really. Even if his life was meant for something other than intense, excuitiating affairs and long, tear-filled nights, he couldn't help but imagine whatever the source of the stranger's unhappiness was as something glorious. Something for which an apology was gratuitous. He's read the right books, seen the right films, he knew better than that. Dull, small, meaningless unhappiness didn't come to imposing men with sad eyes.

"But, it must have been beautiful for a moment, right? Even if it was miserable."

[noblehcart]

[ 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 ] : receiver tends to sender's wounds. (for rook)

@delanuit

"I should be binding these wounds with salt, but-"

-but Nadir is home again.

-but you saved my husband's life again.

-but I'm so relieved you're safe.

Babi dissidents had once again begun causing chaos and her husband as Daroga had been sent to handle the riots. Thank Allah that Erik was in Mazanderan and had decided to go with him. Her husband came home worn, weary and bone tired, but whole- as for Erik....even she could see the different staining in his dark clothing. It was swirl of emotions of relief for her husband, fear for Erik, anger at the dissidents and many other conflicting emotions. Frustration that Erik had gotten hurt in the process in what she was sure was defending her husband. She knew Erik had not forgotten her remark on their first meeting how if she had lost Nadir then her household would have fallen apart.

She wanted in her flurry of emotions to be mad at him for getting hurt after she called out for him to be safe. To be careful. To come home.

"-but," Her voice softening. " the wound is plenty clean with the water, boiled as you requested and the alcohol, as you requested. I think you've endured enough pain today as it is...especially on behalf of my family and at my hands. the bindings should hold, but we'll see in the coming days."

[noblehcart]

Aesthetic: Erik & Rookheeya Khan ( Batb/ Fae au) @delanuit / @noblehcart