#muirin007

[thedrawingduke]

(Reposted this from insta !) But once more—Many Happy Returns to a true icon of fan culture, shapeshifting, and gothique delights— @muirin007 ! May your days be long and your ballpoint pens never leak nor jam. Apologies for borrowing Mr. and Mrs. Blorbeaux, I return them to you a little wonkily drawn but otherwise unharmed (I hope). 💀♥️

Bonus obligatory play date moments. Well…the girls got along fine but, alas, the boys were not quite socialized enough. :,D

[bezdddakota]

As the scared laws states, "When making a meme involving Susan Kay's Phantom, thou must use Muirin007's drawing ".

I didn't make the rules, I just follow them.

[kimwexlers-brownhair]

Andrew Lloyd Webber, Sarah Brightman - Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again

She’s never looked so much like @muirin007 Christine than here.

[damalseer]

[timebird84]

Not everything was bad during the Rosy Hours …

Early Christmas gift for @muirin007.

Casey, I’m posting this already today to get a better chance that you’ll see it before Christmas is over ;) .

Thank you so much for the opportunity to get to know you a little better this year! You’ve no idea how much I appreciate our contact and enjoy our talks, even though Coronavirus avoided that they could happen in person. Hopefully, we can catch up on that somewhen within the next two years.

Sonja/Timebird84

[jamesbousema]

Made me a @muirin007​ gargoyle portrait She’s only slightly more deviously pointy in real life If you’re interested in commissioning one for yourself, CHECK OUT THIS POST FOR DETAILS

[tallestsilver]

For the fic ask meme! I've got two: 4 and 22! (or whichever you'd rather write!)

Eeeee thank you, @muirin007! oh god why am I doing this to myself. 

4. “We’re designed to be disposable.”

22. “Can I open my eyes yet?”

“Can I open my eyes yet?”

Christine had the patience of a saint, but all patience comes to an end. Erik waved his hand over her face to be absolutely certain she hadn’t faltered and opened her eyes yet. Like a statue, she remained still, though her balance was starting to falter. Standing perfectly straight was surprisingly exhausting!

“Not yet, my dear,” he reassured her, his voice moving away from her. He had informed her earlier that he had another present for her. Barring any more lavish gifts of flowers that filled her room, chocolates from far off countries, and teas her poor Swedish tongue had difficulties somersaulting over, she had no idea what was in store for her.

Erik, however, was absolutely giddy. 

He inspected the gift once again, a long column standing upright against the wall, draped with a shroud of fine cloth. He lifted the fabric ever so slightly, frowned, and blew warm breath on it. Using his elbow, he shined away any discrepancy he found with it. 

“Erik…” Christine’s voice was almost an exasperated whine, but she would not stoop that low to be so childish. But she was getting rather annoyed with waiting so long. 

“All right!” Erik exclaimed excitedly, his Angel voice booming with grandeur, “Open!” 

Christine’s eyes fluttered open, instantly confused they were standing in Erik’s room. His macabre and grotesque decorations always concerned her and emphasized her crushing feeling of being 5 stories beneath the ground. Erik beamed at her, and with a flourish of his wrist unveiled her present. “Et voila!” 

What stood before her was a coffin.

“Magnificent, is it not?” Erik was nearly bouncing with excitement. He ran his long hands over the detailed edging. “Hand carved by the finest whittler I could find. The wood is a rich mahogany imported from-” 

He was cut off from explaining further by a soft thump. He whipped around to find Christine crumbled to the floor in a dead faint. 

Erik sighed inwardly and scooped her up as he would a child and carried her to the Louis Philippe room.

After a few moments, Christine stirred with a quiet groan, holding her head. Erik was seated beside her bed, at the ready with a glass of cold water and a petite bon-bon. Christine eyed him wearily and took the chocolate and cup from him, drinking deeply the mineral-tasting water.

He nodded to the chocolate in her hand. “And the truffle,” he insisted, “you need to stabilize your blood sugar. I swear Christine, it’s as if you were in some penny dreadful, fainting about the way you do.” 

She pursed her lips at this, not without popping the delicate morsel in her mouth first. “If I am to be gifted such macabre presents in such a state, then perhaps I am a Gothic heroine within a penny dreadful!” She snapped back.

Erik’s posture became more rigid, more defensive. “It is a practical gift! I am only thinking of your future comfort!”“Comfort that is unnecessary because by the time I need it, I’ll be DEAD!”

“Oh hardly, Christine!” Erik stood at this point, to emphasize his good intentions. “I find them dreadfully comfortable, if taken certain precautions and measures to ensure comfort! Why I even had yours lined with velvet to -”

Christine gritted her teeth in a growl and stared up at the ceiling, spilling her water glass on the bed as she screamed out her frustration. “Just get me a pine box and be done with it,” She hissed, “if you’re so eager for my demise!” 

“My dear, those are so disposable and you deserve-”

“We’re designed to be disposable, Erik!” Angry tears streamed down her face as she whipped to look at him. He took a step back from her, clutching his hands to his chest. She looked as if she wanted to say more, but all that came out were her angry tears. She sobbed into her hands, her knees pulling up to her chest.

“Erik… Erik didn’t mean to upset his Christine,” he whispered, tentatively approaching her. “Erik thought… that perhaps… this might make Christine happy, to know she was well provided for even in -”

“I do NOT want to think about death anymore, Erik,” Christine said with finality. “It has consumed too much of my life.” She sniffed, wiping away her messy tears and snot with her forearm. 

Erik removed a handkerchief from his pocket, and cautiously, looking for any sign of dissent, seated himself on the bed by Christine. He gently dabbed at her cheeks, wiping away the wetness that smeared on her. 

“Erik is-” he cleared his throat, “-I am sorry. It is… difficult to understand what gifts remain in the realm of propriety when all I want to do is give you the world at your feet.” He looked at her sorrowfully, even through his mask she could read his expression. In a way, it was endearing.

She nodded, not knowing what to say, and leaned in to rest her head on his shoulder. Erik stiffened at the immediate contact initiated by Christine, but then relaxed into it as she did not pull away. 

Slowly, he put his arm around her and held her. 

[herbalpath63017]

Felt like these two deserved to be next to each other.  Stunningly beautiful artwork by Muirin007.