pinned .

L’Immortelle (1963)

VISION    OF    DEATH  ,    LONESOME    AND    DREARY                        he wanders these hollow halls  ,    breath quiet as night    /    around him the opera house pitches    &    moans  ----    like some whisper of aching bones                      (    oh  ,    the monstrous    &    holy things you have seen  ,    my love  .    how i long to save you from this infernal peril    /    but i am the one that has led you to the gates of hell    )                      the devil’s mouth beckons  ,    a haggard    &   bloodied maw  ,    dripping with blackened ichor  .    his soul sat there  ,   too  ,    among all those damned    &    lonesome    /     lost    &    dazed    &    mourning for the life that slowly slips through their fingers like sand  .    for once we die  ,    we belong to him  .    our contract lasts the length of this mortal coil  ,    and though we pay our dues in life  ,    the price in death is even steeper

gloved hand drags against the ropes  ----    the cold stones  ,    the unseen structures that tie this house together  ,   and keep it from unraveling at the seams                      (    and how quickly he could undo it all  .    how a simple slash of a blade could turn into loss    &    ruin    )                      but he won’t  ----    not now  ,   no  ,    not while christine was on the stage  .    not as all those curious eyes watched her  ,   and her alone  ----    as they sighed    &   swayed to the melody of her song  !    a seraph caught in the flames of the light  ,    some holy fire that surrounded her    /    at once he feels almost ill  ,    how such cursed hands reached for her  ,    how he sat at her altar in prayer  ,    grasping for a glimpse of the divine within  .    his gaze burns from the catwalk  ,    gracefully leaping down in the darkness of backstage  .    madame giry waits  ,   silent    &    stern  .    a note is extended  ,    grasped between thumb    &    forefinger                      ❝    for miss daae  ,    tell her i will be waiting    ❞  

𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑟  ,    @littleingenue​

look what @swede made for me 🥺

me :  ): my brain :  erik’s “curse” progressing further either via him being greedy and asking the devil for more ,  or through some sort of unread agreement in their already existing contract in which it begins to spread further  ( down his arm and hand ,  his torso ,  his legs ,  etc )  and really pushing towards the monster / horror / corpse - like trope me :  (:

[ … ]  𝚂𝙷𝙴 𝚆𝙸𝙻𝙻 𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙻𝙻 𝙸𝙽𝚂𝙿𝙸𝚁𝙴 𝙼𝙴, 𝙱𝙴 𝙰 𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝙾𝙵 𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚈𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙸 𝙳𝙾. ↳  a very happy early birthday to the wonderful @fantome!! ♡

Michelle Hodkin, The Evolution of Mara Dyer

bold what your muse can do. italicize for something they can do to some extent repost !! do not reblog !!

bake a cake from scratch / ride a horse / drive a submarine / speak a second language / dance / catch a fish / play an instrument / throw a punch / build a deck / ice skate / unclog a drain / program a computer / change a flat tire / fire a gun /sew / juggle / play poker / paint / fly a kite / sculpt / write poetry / change a diaper / sing / shoot a bow and arrow / ride a bike / swim / sail a boat / do a back flip / play chess / give cpr / pitch a tent / flirt / stitch a wound / read palms / use chopsticks / write in cursive / use an electric drill / braid hair/ make a campfire / make a mixed drink / do sudoku puzzles / wrap a gift / give a good massage / jump-start a car / roll their tongue / do magic tricks / do yoga / tie a tie cravat / skip a rock / shuffle a deck of cards / read morse code / pick a lock / fly a plane / train a dog/cat / fix a car / apologize / write a business letter / write in a second language / say the alphabet backwards / read music / cook complex meals / change oil / paint nails / draw / socialize / march / take apart a gun / drive a rig / operate a tank / climb a tree / rock climb / tie a cherry stem / basic first-aid / draw blood / put out a fire

tagged by: @avicomte​ ily tagging: if u see this u have been tagged

swede·:

exhausted form slumps at her vanity, an unmistakable sigh leaving aching throat. everything burns; 𝚌𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎. her own reflection greets her in the flickering candlelight — sagged shoulders, eyes darkened by fatigue. a fleeting moment passes.

she’d know him anywhere; the click of a latch and the swing of the other mirror behind her opening, near-imperceptible footsteps announcing his presence. 

❝   rehearsal was grueling,  ❞    the tired angel complains. christine tries, and fails, to sit up straighter. 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚖𝚊 𝚟𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚞𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝.

she turns to face him, golden curls an awry halo, and smiles through the weariness. relief floods her expression at erik’s mere presence.

❝   will you take me home?  ❞    christine suggests all at once, eyes far, far too hopeful. she doesn’t have the energy to appear the least bit bashful.

perhaps he had been waiting for her  ,    perhaps he had lurked in the darkness  ----    creature of shadows    &    whispers  ,    seeking the one source of light to brighten his day                    (    perhaps this is how things would always be  :    a phantom  ,    damned  ,    waiting for an angel to save him    )                      𝚊𝚗𝚍    𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑   𝚑𝚎   ��𝚊𝚢   𝚋𝚎   𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚍    &    𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍    &    𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚎𝚕                   [  though he may be unpleasant to all others who discover the misfortune to come across him  ]                        he finds it hard to hide his smile as he sets foot into her dressing room  ,    curious eyes focused on the curve of her slumped shoulders  ;    how even in disarray    &   exhaustion  ,    𝚜𝚑𝚎   𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕   𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍   𝚝𝚘   𝚑𝚒𝚖   𝚝𝚑𝚎   𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝   𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕   𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗   𝚐𝚘𝚍   𝚑𝚊𝚍   𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛   𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚍   𝚘𝚗   𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚑  .    a tender hearted soul  ----    set to motion  ,    her song tempting him closer    &    closer towards that terrifying and foreign feeling of love  .    tongue clicks the roof of his mouth  ,    a sound of amusement as she drags herself upwards once more                         ❝  that means you worked hard  ,    for that i am proud of you .  ❞

all at once he is burdened by shock    &    temptation  ----    taken aback by the suddenness of her request  ,    of the boldness                      (    and all at once made tender  [  .  .  .  ]  by the hope burning in her eyes  ,    a light so bright it makes his heart skip beats    )                     face grows flushed  ,   and he finds his mouth slightly agape  ----    as if unsure how to force an answer to dislodge itself from his throat                    𝙷𝙾𝙼𝙴                   the word scorches his skin  ,    digs into his bones    &    roots itself to the marrow                       [  what a strange word  ,    for a boy who never had one  ,    and a man who spent his life running from it  ]                  lips purse  ,    fists clench  ,    until finally he forces his features to relax into a smile                      ❝  come along then  ,    i wouldn’t want you wandering alone anywhere as tired as you are .  ❞

swede·:

she does not have the strength to hold resentment in her heart. 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚕 — 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚎, 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐. this she has chosen, and she alone; the mistress of her own actions does not see it fit to leave his side.

❝   erik, please—  ❞    his name comes like a prayer by urgent tongue. erik. always erik. 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚕, 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛  /  𝙵𝚁𝙸𝙴𝙽𝙳, 𝙿𝙷𝙰𝙽𝚃𝙾𝙼…    ❝   because you have cared for me. you have taught me, you have been my companion!  ❞

any frustration begotten by erik’s words wilt the instant she sees him; burning, burning, hand clasped over concave, reaching for the heart in which he is burdened by. [  𝙸𝚃 𝙸𝚂 𝙰 𝙲𝙰𝙻𝙻 𝚃𝙾 𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽.  ]

christine takes him in her arms all at once, all in a rush. 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝, 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗; 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚐𝚘𝚍’𝚜 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚑. gasping, she bears the brunt of his weight, hands at his back and cheek flush against the swell of his chest. blood rushes in her ears.

❝   i know you. i know who you are.  ❞

creature  ,     betrayed by god .    hurt    &    cursed    &    haunted  ,    a house with shattered windows    &    cracking floorboards                   (    rotted .  decayed .  𝚊𝚛𝚎   𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎   𝚊𝚛𝚎   𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑   𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜   𝚏𝚘𝚛   𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛   𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜    )                    misery found in the shape of a man  ,    sculpted by dubious hands  ----    a certain evilness  ,    a cruelty with sharp teeth    &    bloodied maw                    [  here you are  ,    proof of the devil with your soul burning  :    white hot fire scalds your insides  ,    and you can do nothing about it now  ]                      YOU CANNOT SEE ALL THAT WHICH BURDENS ME  !                      all these sins    &    pains that have sat and festered in my gut  ,    all these malicious and ugly words that sit like acid and burn holes in my organs  .    you see a man who claims the names of angels and saints  ,    as if he had any right to their holiness  ----    you see a phantom to some  ,    a monster to others  ,    a man with a broken heart    &    crippling conscious                     [  what will you be to her  ,    erik  ?    at the end  ,    which mask will she pick for you to wear  ?  ]

❝  i am only a mask  ,    christine !  ❞                      the cry is desperate  ,    sorrow laced    &    guilt tinged  ----    𝚑𝚒𝚜   𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜   𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎   𝚘𝚏   𝚊   𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚐𝚊𝚛   𝚘𝚗   𝚑𝚒𝚜   𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚜   𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎   𝚌𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝  ,    pleading to be saved by the divinity before him                        ❝  i wear so many faces  .  .  .    i am frightened  ----    i am frightened because i forget who i am  .    i am frightened to think i am a man who could be so cruel and heartless  .  .  .  ❞

a sob  :    muffled by his own hand  ,    his chest concaving into a violin’s saddened harmony                        (    the crowd weeping  ,    the lone candlelight’s illumination against the stage  .    you see how you have always been a hollow thing  ,    𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎   𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢   𝚊𝚜   𝚝𝚑𝚎   𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝   𝚒𝚗   𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛   𝚘𝚠𝚗   𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍    )                      and he allows her to hold his weight  ----    if only for a moment  ,    his own arms winding around her neck solemnly  ,    face buried in the halo of her hair  ;    staining her with his tears                       ❝  you are the only thing that keeps the fear away  ,    meine liebe  ,    meine christine .  ❞

Anais Nin, Mirages: The Unexpurgated Diary of Anais Nin, 1939-1947

❝  it’s vinegar  ,    pussy .  ❞

                                       a    starter    for    @avicomte​  ,    𝚛𝚊𝚘𝚞𝚕    𝚍𝚎    𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚐𝚗𝚢

❝  christine  .  .  .  ❞                    unto tenderness  ,    the vibrato of his voice falls like a lonesome chord  ----    struck against the strings  ,    and spilling into the nighttime                    (  with what reverie do i hold you  ,    with what compassion    &    understanding do those kind eyes fall upon such a haunted face  ----    tell me  ,    my love  ,    what god i have pleased to find you  )                     jaw clenches  ,    and he can hear the grit of his teeth echo between his ears                     [  we are burdened by such silence  ,    the hesitation that pervades the air as i hold my tongue  .    we are created by this  :    by these pauses  ,    by these moments that exist in a perilous inbetween  ]                      YOU DO NOT LOOK AT ME AS MONSTER  ,    AND YOUR TENDERNESS CONFOUNDS ME                     for what ghastly sights sit before you  ,    with all the rage    &    fire of a man bound by the devil  ----    𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝   𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚕𝚢   𝚊𝚗𝚍   𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚍   𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚖   𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝   𝚑𝚊𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚜   𝚢𝚘𝚞  !    but you do not flinch  [  .  .  .  ]  you do not look away  ,    no  ----    your quiet love could drive me mad  .    i would think myself smart  ,    genius  ,    knower of all things  ;    if not for you  ,    christine  .    the way you humble the fanfare of my heart  ,    the way your every move is a proof of god                    (  there is you  ,    always you in my mind  :    proof of the divine  ,    proof of angels  .    what right have i to hold such warm name to my cursed lungs  ?  )                    agony overwhelms the space between his ribs  ----    a sudden  ,   gasping  ,   crippling pain as he reaches for the flesh that holds him together  .

he doubles over  ,    his other hand grasping listlessly at the wall                      ❝  how  .  .  .    how can you look at me  ----    see me  ,    know me  ,    and be so sure  ?  ❞                      nails dig against the stone  ,    a horrid sound that scratches at the inside of his skull                     [  you cannot look at her  ,    cannot behold her gentle understanding    /  �� you feel undeserving of her mere presence  ;    of the halo of light she has washed your damnable frame with  ]                         𝚈𝙾𝚄  ,    𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙺  ,    𝚃𝙾𝚄𝙲𝙷𝙴𝙳   𝙱𝚈   𝙶𝚁𝙰𝙲𝙴  ?                       it seems almost laughable  ,    you could fall to the ground and let the amusement consume you  !    let yourself be the butt of the joke  ,   you horrid    &    miserable creature  .    but then there is her  ,    still  ,    standing before you with all her bravery and beauty  .    and all over again  ,    you are made weak by christine daae  .

@SWEDE​ ASKED  :    ‘  you’ve never hurt me .  ever .  ’

tags part two  !

tags part one  !