#pls someone keep me sane | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yeonboy · 4 months

Text

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐲 ♡ choi beomgyu.

He aches to be the one you would have snuck off with; to be the one you would want to share secret kisses with. He aches. And in that moment, he realizes his feelings have gone too far. They have caused him to stop being a true well-wisher to you; he is being selfish. He needs to take a step back. Or, Choi Beomgyu is head over heels in love with his best friend – and she simply doesn’t feel the same.

❧ choi beomgyu x f. reader | 16+ | college!au ♡ best friends!au ♡ unrequited love!au ♡ angst ♡ drama.

❧ 4.7 k words

❧ warnings! profanity, an extreeeeeme amount of pining, one-sided feelings, unrequited love, jealousy, heartbreak, some self-deprication, one (1) mention of drinking and partying, one (1) mention of making out, maybe an innuendo or two! mostly just buckets full of mopey, pining gyu </3 and a hopeful (?) ending (:

❧ note! i wrote this because i was listening to m5’s whiskey and crying and thinking of gyu so take that how u will </3 please note that the lyrics are there just to set the tone, not to be taken too literally. i just love this song, man. please don’t hate me for the ending, i changed it thrice and then settled on this. it just felt perfect to me this way :”) also! pls excuse the lack of dividers, tumblr won't let me add them without hiding the post from the tags for some reason :/

❧ masterlist | inbox ⁘

i never knew that love was blind; till i was hers and she was never mine…

“So, I have a question for you.”

Beomgyu blinks at your words, letting the steel straw escape his lips as you pull his strawberry milkshake away from him.

In fascination, he watches the way your lips wrap around the shiny tube in the exact place where his own had been. You slurp once and pull away, leaving a tint of pink – pinker than the drink, pinker than Beomgyu’s cheeks, pinker than the love-goggles that are permanently on his eyes when he’s with you – on the edge of the straw.

“Gyu?”

He wants to wipe that pink away with his lips, so bad. But your hand comes in with a tissue to clean that precious speck of your lipstick away, before he can even blink a second time.

Now he blinks again and looks up at you. God, you’re so gorgeous with your brows all furrowed and lips all pouty. He is so thoroughly ruined by you. Why does he continue to subject himself to this torture instead of keeping his distance like a sane person?

He doesn’t fucking know.

“Y–yeah? What question?”

“A hypothetical one. Very important, nonetheless.” You stare into space with your eyes squinted, perfect cheekbones reflecting the light from the evening traffic beyond the glass walls of the cafe you’re seated in. “If long time BFFs happen to develop feelings for each other, should they confess?”

Beomgyu chokes on air, freezing like a solid block of ice.

What did you just ask?

“You know… Just imagine! Two people who have been the best of friends for ages. And then one of them realizes they’re in love with the other.” Your rounded eyes turn to him with a hint of worry in them. “Should they confess and live their dream? Or should they take this secret to their grave and protect their friendship?”

Beomgyu is a mess.

Why the actual hell are you asking him that? Him – the one guy in your entire life that doesn’t have to imagine this specific situation because he’s been living it for years, now?

Now, he’s not panicking because he thinks you might have figured him out and are trying to pave a path to confession. No, he's self-aware enough to not be deluded. And his panic kinda stems from this very fact.

He's self-aware enough to know that while he's looking at you and daydreaming of a picket fence and good-morning kisses, your mind is stuck on someone else. Choi Soobin. Older than him, taller than him, cuter than him. Guy checks all boxes of the type of guys you like so well, Beomgyu wonders if Soobin is the reason why you created those boxes in the first place.

So he's scared out of his mind that you're paving a road to confess to Soobin.

“Wow, aren’t you super helpful this evening?”

Your whine of frustration pulls him out of his spiral. He clears his throat and shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know, man. That’s a very subjective question.”

“Subjective?” You tilt your head in thought and Beomgyu dreads the next words you would say before you have even formed them: “Okay, let me answer it subjectively first then! Like, imagine if you had feelings for me. I wouldn't want you to confess them to me, like, ever.”

Ouch. Not that he plans to ever confess them to you, but still pretty ouch.

Slightly hurt, he drags his milkshake back to himself and slurps away the rest of it before smacking his lips and shaking his head. “Well then subjectively, it’s the complete opposite for me.”

You look at him with an extremely confused frown. “But what if I lose the friendship because you don't feel the same?”

This hypothesis is making him lose his damn mind.

“I… well, what if we lose the chance to be something much more amazing just because you were scared?”

Moment of introspection: he hopes to all the powers in the universe that he isn’t losing the chance to be something much more amazing with you just because he’s scared. You don’t like him like that, you won’t ever like him like that.

He’s being smart and self-preservative. Not scared.

You're lost in thoughts for a moment, and then you suddenly get up with a jump. Grinning at him, you lean down to peck his cheek and rush out of the cafe before he can even fully absorb the warm brush of your lips against his skin. “You're the best, Gyu, thank you so much!”

In a daze, he brings his fingertips to brush against the apple of his cheek.

Why did you run away like that? Why did you sound so excited? Fuck, are you going to confess right now?

He pulls his fingertips away.

They are pink.

yeah i was reckless, but i let it burn; i let it burn, yeah…

“And if they show up hand-in-hand, then what? Then what, huh, Tyun? It’s easy for you to say I’m overthinking, but you aren’t thinking nearly enough!”

Kang Taehyun, the university’s Student Council member who is in-charge of overseeing the set-up for tomorrow's inter-uni basketball game – and also Beomgyu’s best friend of fifteen years – rolls his eyes so hard, it’s a wonder they don’t fall out of their sockets.

“Why do you keep setting yourself up for more pain, man? Why don't you try to invest these emotions somewhere they will be appreciated?”

“I can't just compel myself to start or stop feeling, dude…”

Shin Ryujin suddenly appears behind the bleachers that the two of them were covering with a banner, both hands planted in the back pockets of her jorts. They should look incredibly lame, but she somehow pulls them off.

Beomgyu looks at her with wide eyes, wondering how much she heard.

“Yo, dumbass! Are you coming to the game tomorrow?” She’s smirking at him but there's a sparkle in her eyes that makes him chuckle at the name.

“The name's Beomgyu.”

“That's what I said. So, are you coming?”

Beomgyu has actually been trying to think of an excuse to get out his regular movie night with you - and this sounds like the perfect one. He shrugs a shoulder. “Don’t really got any plans, so… Maybe I will.”

Taehyun gives him a weird look because he knows Beomgyu always had plans on Fridays.

Ryujin grins wide. “Perfect! Well, just two requests.”

He squints with interest. “What requests?”

“Wear my jersey! And, uh, don’t bring a date, please?”

She looks extremely bashful while saying the second part of the sentence. Which is somewhat jarring. It’s Shin fucking Ryujin, she eats men for breakfast. Why is she almost blushing?

But then Taehyun is cackling, which reminds Beomgyu of the first request she made. He immediately scowls. “Hey! I’m not wearing your jersey like some groupie!

She rolls her eyes, but her lips are quirked up because he didn’t say no to the second request. And he knows he won’t; you're the only one he ever asks to accompany him to places, and he's only going to the game tomorrow to escape you.

“Your loss. Just so you know, boys are lining up to wear my jersey…”

Scoffing, Beomgyu goes back to handing Taehyun more pins. “Yeah right.”

“What? You don’t believe me?” Ryujin scoffs. “Watch this - ayo, Heeseung! Wanna wear my jersey tomorrow?”

A screech from the Students Council’s Vice Prez is followed by a high-pitched: “For real? Yes, please, I—”

“Sike! Haha, gotcha, little bitch!”

Taehyun is doubled over in laughter and even Beomgyu can’t hold in his chuckles at the look of utter devastation on Heeseung’s face and victory on Ryujin’s. She raises an eyebrow when their gazes meet. “See?”

“How much did you pay him for this skit?”

She smacks his shoulder with an irritated whine. “You’re way too fucking cynical for no damn reason, dude. Okay, no jersey - but get a no. 17 placard for me, at least?”

Rolling his eyes, he finally nods.

“Great! See ya tomorrow, loser! Bye, Tyun!”

Taehyun waves at her as she leaves, while Beomgyu cups his hands around his mouth to yell out: “The name’s Beomgyu!”

“That’s what I said!”

“Man, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you actually enjoy talking to a girl.”

Offended to his very bones, Beomgyu gapes at his best friend. “Dude! I enjoy talking to girls! I’m straight! Or did you forget how I threw up that one time when you kissed me during spin-the-bottle in seventh gra—”

“Yes, I remember!” Taehyun smacks him with a scowl on his face. “But that’s not what I meant. Gyu, you only ever talk to Y/N. Or have you not realized that? And look absolutely lovesick and physically pained while doing that.”

“Nahhhh, untrue. It’s just—” He cuts himself off to purse his lips. Taehyun is one-hundred percent correct. “It’s just a little difficult to mask my emotions all the time, but I manage…”

Taehyun just shakes his head in obvious disappointment. Then he tilts his chin up towards the direction where Ryujin is laughing around with some girls from the cheer team. “She obviously likes you a lot. Don’t hurt her.”

“I won’t,” he mumbles, lips forming a pout because this is so confusing. “But isn’t she basically signing up for the hurt if she’s doing this despite knowing where I stand with Y/N?

“Just…” Taehyun sighs. “Yeah, just don’t give her false hope.”

Beomgyu feels like he’s giving himself false hope every single time he talks to you, but what can be done.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

You end up texting him first, that night, to cancel tomorrow’s movie night. You apparently have “plans” with a friend.

Bile rises up Beomgyu’s throat at the thought of you finally going on a date with Soobin.

He can’t get himself to directly ask if that is the case, but fuck, why won’t you tell him? He goes to sleep with a pain in his chest that night.

the feeling it was bittersweet, realizing i was in too deep…

As fate would have it, Beomgyu bumps into you at the very gates of the basketball stadium, the next evening. You look like a dream in your short skirt and varsity jacket.

He feels nauseous at the thought of discovering Soobin trailing behind you with a large drink with two straws, or something.

“Uh… these are your plans?” He says in a way of greeting.

Your eyes widen when you see him, but then you pout. “Yeah! Why didn’t you tell me you were gonna be here? We would’ve come together!”

He immediately thinks of his promise to Ryujin and shakes his head. “Ah, actually… Shin Ryujin invited me.”

Your mouth forms an O, a lost expression crossing your face. He’s never been great at reading people, but with the way his brain gets fuzzy around you, he’s doing an even worse job right now. Because he can absolutely not tell what this look on your face means.

Right then, the girl herself arrives, a wistful smile on her face. “Thought I told you to not bring a date? And she’s wearing Chaewon’s jersey, hmph.”

“Oh! We didn't—”

You cut him off with a chuckle that somehow sounds a little strained. “Ah, I’m actually here with her sister!”

Yunjin? He didn’t know you were friends with her… But that means no Soobin, right? Which might mean that no confession happened yesterday?

“Dude, Chaewon’s our Forward and our captain. No hard feelings!” Ryujin throws up a peace sign at you, and the two girls laugh.

After you leave to look for Yunjin, Ryujin stays back, smirking at him. But there’s a distinct look in her eyes that he can, for a change, recognize. Partly because the fuzz in his brain left along with you. And partly because he sees this look in the mirror everyday.

“I don’t even stand a chance, do I?” She doesn’t sound upset, just… regretful.

Taehyun’s words come back to him. “Ryu, I—”

“Nah, it’s fine. I knew what I was getting into, Choi.” She smiles, this time, pointing at the ‘17’ placard in his hands. “I’m gonna score a basket just for this, though. Cheer loudly, ’kay?”

she was a lesson – i had to learn, i had to learn, yeah…

Beomgyu had gone to the game only for Ryujin, not for you. He literally came here to escape movie night with you.

Yet, he sits in the stadium with his eyes straying from Ryujin’s great moves as Point Guard, reaching across the court, to land on you. It’s so annoying and makes him feel so helpless, he wants to scream. But there’s something magnetic about your presence that just won’t let him exist peacefully.

Is this how love is supposed to feel? Exhausting and painful at all times?

What adds to the exhaustion and pain is the way you are seated with your eyes bright and teeth on display, Yunjin on one side and…Soobin on the other.

Though he saw it coming, Beomgyu still finds it really hard to swallow the pain that pricks at his throat at the sight of you giggling into Soobin’s side and looking at the guy with eyes full of a million stars. He tries to seek comfort in the way Soobin seems to reciprocate your happiness, but it’s really hard.

He isn’t even jealous at this point, he’s just tired. If he could stop himself from feeling so much, all the damn time, he really, really would.

The crowd suddenly cheers, drawing his attention away from you – thankfully – and back to the court. And then his eyes widen in surprise. Ryujin stands with her hands braced on her hips, gaze directly directed at him. Well – she said she would score a basket for him and she did. She lifts a hand to point at him, causing a louder cheer to roar across the stadium, and Beomgyu cannot hold back the loud chuckle that escapes him. He raises both his hands up in a double thumbs-up.

Somewhere from three rows below, Heeseung shouts out an expletive at him, but the game has resumed again so everyone around the guy asks him to shut up.

Like clockwork, Beomgyu’s gaze slowly floats back up at the stands, slowly zeroing in towards your seat – only to stop short. You’re not in your seat. And neither is Soobin.

Oh.

Now again, Beomgyu should be prepared to face this as well. But he’s once again at a loss.

Unwittingly, his brain conjures up images of you and Soobin finding a secluded, dark corner to make out in. He envisions the brightness he just saw in both of your gazes, imagines the tinkling giggles you would release, pictures the darkening of your cheeks.

And in that moment, he can’t find it in himself to be happy for you. He can’t pretend to like Soobin.

He aches to be the one you would have snuck off with; to be the one you would want to share secret kisses with.

He aches.

And in that moment, he realizes his feelings have gone too far. They have caused him to stop being a true well-wisher to you; he is being selfish.

He needs to take a step back.

i used to try to forget her…

“Dude, the one thing I asked of you was to not hurt Ryujin. What the hell do you mean you’re taking her out?”

Beomgyu pinches the bridge of his nose, almost regretting disclosing his plans to his best friend. But he needed Taehyun to be on his side to make sure he doesn’t chicken out. Although given the tone the guy is using with him right now, Beomgyu’s purpose might be failing either way.

He puts his phone on loudspeaker, extracting a jacket from his closet to match the blue t-shirt he’s wearing.

“She was awarded MVP for yesterday’s game for the first time in this season. When I congratulated her on it, she called me her lucky charm—”

“Ugh, it’s as if she wants you to hurt her,” Taehyun murmurs and Beomgyu can hear the grimace in his voice through the phone.

“So I asked her if she wanted to celebrate the win with her lucky charm, and she said yes…”

Taehyun gives a sigh. “You literally flirted with her.”

“I did. Weren’t you the one telling me I should focus my feelings where they will be reciprocated?”

“Yes, you should. But do you even feel anything?”

“I do, yeah…” Immense sadness and despair with a brush of frustration. “I feel like I’m gonna have a good time with her.”

“Yeah, I don’t doubt that.” Taehyun gives another sigh. “Just be smart, okay? Don’t lead her on, Gyu.”

“I won’t, man.”

Settling on a black denim jacket that goes with his jeans and boots of the same color, Beomgyu leaves his dorm in the half a decade old Corvette his parents have permitted him to keep on campus. He’s meeting Ryujin at the cafe, which saves him from spending time in the car with her.

When he enters the cafe, though, Beomgyu begins to wonder if he has somehow offended some higher, superior power by some action of his, for which he is now being punished on the daily.

Because before he can even begin to look around for his date, a giggling Soobin catches his eye. He’s sitting facing the door, feeding spaghetti to his date.

His date.

You.

Your back is to him, but Beomgyu can still see how you’ve styled your hair in a way that is different than usual. You’ve always complained that your hair is too silky to be held up in an updo—a remark Beomgyu can never understand because he, personally, loves the texture of your hair—and so this complicated bun feels so strange on you.

And the off-shoulder dress instead of your beloved full-sleeves. And the dangling earrings instead of your usual studs. And—

Holy fuck, this isn’t you.

This isn’t you.

Beomgyu is fully frozen in his spot now, stunned and panicked at the same time.

Soobin is on a date – with someone else.

Should he be happy or concerned?

The sweat accumulating on his palms indicates the latter.

“Gyu!”

The call snaps his attention to a corner of the cafe, where Shin Ryujin sits with a grin on her face. Pushing his lips up, he waves at her. But his eyes involuntarily swim back to Soobin once more – only this time, both the taller boy and his date, Kim Chaewon, the basketball captain, are looking at Beomgyu with matching smiles.

He doesn’t know how to respond. Or react. His smile is frozen on his lips and his hand is still up in a wave, however, so the couple take that to be his greeting and go back to talking among themselves. And Beomgyu pushes himself to finally walk towards Ryujin’s table.

“I see you already spotted what I was dying to gossip about,” Ryujin grumbles with a scowl when he settles opposite her.

Beomgyu blinks. “Uh… Soobin?”

“Who?” This time Ryujin is the one to give a clueless blink. But then her eyebrows rise. “Oh, the boy. Yeah, in a way, I guess? But Chaewon, obviously. She’s finally on a date with her crush of a whole ass year.”

What? “O–oh?”

The waiter comes over to take their orders, right then. Beomgyu asks for a club sandwich and beer, while Ryujin chooses an extra cheese loaded pizza and a virgin mojito.

“You don’t want me drunk around you, loser.” She winks at him but her smile is forced enough to make guilt unfurl in Beomgyu’s chest. “Anyways! Chaewon! She’s finally winning at life and it’s all thanks to your girl.”

Beomgyu’s heart jumps up to his throat for multiple reasons.

His girl? You? Who else could it even be.

He drily swallows. “My…?”

“She was so hard at work during yesterday’s match! Fuck knows what magical words she said to both of them but they finally stopped their cat and mouse chase for good.” A fond look enters Ryujin’s gaze as she peeks past him to look at the couple. “It was sickening, watching Chaewon pine day in and out. Kinda like it is to watch you.”

Ryujin is laughing at her own joke, but Beomgyu’s mind is stuck on the information she just imparted. “Yesterday’s match?”

“Yeah. She arrived with Yunjin, remember? They both sat with Soobin and talked about Chaewon the entire time. Then she said something to Chae during break, and boom – this scardy ass dude was finally asking Chae out at the end of the match!”

Oh, fuck. This is why you were sitting with Soobin yesterday.

You were setting him up with Chaewon.

This is probably why you have been hanging out with the guy and generally interacting so much with him recently as well.

Wait, was this why you asked him that question about having feelings for a best friend? As far as his general university knowledge goes, Chaewon and Soobin have been best friends since before college.

Oh fuck, indeed.

Beomgyu really blew things out of proportion and let his overthinking mind carry him away.

“Speaking of – when do you plan to confess, Choi?”

Beomgyu scoffs at the question. “Never.”

Ryujin looks genuinely confused at the response. “What? Why?”

“She doesn’t feel the same, Ryu. And she’s my best friend. I can’t risk it.”

“How do you know she doesn’t feel the same?”

That’s – an odd question. One that Beomgyu feels like should be very obvious to answer, but when he opens his mouth to do just that, he has to shut it back again. Because ‘I just know’ is going to sound as stupid out loud as it does in his head.

But then what else does he have? He thought you had feelings for someone else but that was obviously not the case.

“I… I mean isn’t it obvious? She would’ve hinted at it… said anything at all if she felt anything…”

The moment Ryujin narrows her eyes and clicks her tongue, he knows he messed up. “Like you have? You’re sitting on your hands, too, dumbass. Does she even know that you don’t go on dates?”

“I’m on a date right now.”

“Keep talking like that and you’ll leave this date with a black eye.”

The waiter arrives with their food, and as Ryujin dives right in, Beomgyu takes a moment to actually think about what the girl has been saying.

You not having feelings for someone else doesn’t automatically imply that you’ve suddenly stopped viewing Beomgyu platonically. Which is why he doesn’t want to suddenly drop his plans of moving on and go back to pining over you.

He wishes for this to be a smooth transition – getting rid of his romantic feelings for you while also staying friends. But if he pays mind to what Ryujin just said, he will block this way for himself.

Because the moment he confesses, it will be a one-way street. You’ll never talk to him again and he’ll be too embarrassed to even show you his face.

Now, of course, he isn’t even considering what could happen if you actually ended up reciprocating – because he’s done enough of that for years now and he’s honestly… tired.

Loving you, as he has concluded time again, is painful and exhausting. He just wants to be happy again.

“How about you stop giving me love advice and start looking for someone new to crush on?” Beomgyu raises an eyebrow at Ryujin, who picks up an olive from her pizza to throw at his face with a scowl.

But then when she dissolves into giggles, sprinkling her happiness and beauty all over him, Beomgyu has to pause to wonder if she doesn’t actually need to look for someone new to crush on.

He offers to drop her off at the end of the date and Ryujin thanks him for the treat. His hands feel a little clammy when she grins at him with a tilt of her head, short hair flying up with the wind.

“Will… will I see you again?”

“Uh, yeah? You see me everyday, dumbass.” Ryujin gives a chuckle but it doesn’t sound natural.

“No, I mean – like this. On a date.”

Her shoulders deflate and her smile leaves her face. Pursing her lips, she looks at him in what could only be defined as disappointment. “This wasn’t a date, Beomgyu. And I won’t be your rebound.”

He’s not asking her to be – except, maybe he is. He doesn’t know anymore.

She seems to know more than him because she gives him another one of those wry smiles of hers and pats his shoulder. “Tell her how you feel and get out of this stupid limbo. I can be your shoulder to cry on, but not a heart to play with. Good night, loser.”

He truly feels like a loser when she walks away from his car.

but now i smile when i remember.

Beomgyu has heard people talk a great deal about ‘right person, wrong time’ or ‘wrong person, right time’, but he has never felt the gravity of it the way he does now.

You’re sitting on the bleachers with Lee Heeseung and giggling your heart away like he’s the funniest man alive. Heeseung, to his credit, is looking at you with a sparkle in his eyes that rivals the entire galaxy.

And as Beomgyu watches the scene from next to the water dispenser in a discrete corner, the bottom of his stomach feels strangely calm.

It’s been a week since he had that confrontation with Ryujin. He didn’t exactly take her advice and run to confess to you, but he certainly did drop hints. And he certainly did observe your reactions.

At the end, he ruefully finds himself exactly where he always has been – watching you offer your affections to someone else from afar.

“How long has he been keeping this in?” he asks around a scoff when Heeseung shows you some magic trick and gloats in your excited clapping.

Taehyun hums as he screws the lid of the water dispenser tight and dusts his hands off to come stand next to Beomgyu. “Fuck knows. I think he’s always smiled a little too brightly at her whenever—oh my God, did you see that? Butterfingers! I could see that card from here. Making a joke out of the best card trick in the books!”

Beomgyu laughs at his friend’s grumbles. Then he gives a sigh. “She looks happy, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah, she does. But I don’t really think she’s on the same page as Lee. Or even you for that matter.” Taehyun settles on the ground and Beomgyu follows his lead. “She’s enjoying her college days like a normal uni student. And maybe you should too, Gyu. Enough of this pining, enough of being in love. Don’t you want to get drunk off your ass and makeout with some ditzy freshman at a party?”

Beomgyu’s horror must show on his face because Taehyun snorts when their eyes meet.

“Okay, maybe not all of it. But… we’re young, buddy. You’ll have plenty of time to fall in love. Hopefully this time with someone who loves you more?”

Beomgyu watches the way you lean closer to Heesung to whisper something in his ear, and as the guy’s cheeks grow red in response, he frowns to himself.

“What about all those times when she seemed jealous? Or upset I wasn’t paying attention to her?”

“Dude, for real?” Taehyun punches his shoulder. “You get like that too when I’m not available at your every beck and call.”

Beomgyu slowly exhales, leaning back on his palms and tilting his head up to let the sunlight wash over his face.

He really is stepping out of his delusions, this time.

You don't like him like that. You don't have feelings for him.

You and him are going to remain just friends.

He's finally ready to face the fact and move forward.

“Yo, loser! Wanna play catch?”

He’s smiling even before he has opened his eyes. Taehyun clears his throat in an exaggerated way with his eyebrows raised. “Never seen you grin that brightly in a while, my man…”

He looks around towards the source of the voice, his grin turning into laughter at the evil gleam in Ryujin’s eyes as she hurtles the basketball towards him.

Somehow managing to catch it with an enraged gasp, Beomgyu wastes no time in chasing the girl with it.

Somewhere in his peripheral vision, he notices the way you have cuddled up with Heesung and how the two of you are laughing at his antics with Ryujin.

When he briefly meets your eye, you give him a thumbs up with your grin.

And for the first time in years, he is able to smile back at you without an ounce of pain in his heart.

and i was so young till she kissed me like a whiskey… like a whiskey.

FIN.

#txt #txt x you #txt x reader #txt angst #beomgyu #choi beomgyu #beomgyu fic #beomgyu fanfic #choi beomgyu x reader #beongyu x you #beomgyu x reader #txt imagines #beomgyu imagines #txt fluff #beomgyu fluff #txt fanfic #txt scenarios #beomgyu scenarios #tomorrow x together

101 notes · View notes

meowzfordayz · 1 year

Text

welcome home, my love

Shinazugawa Genya x Reader

Word Count: ~500

CW: traumatic references

Emergency Request Fulfilled: my mental and emotional health has gone down the gutter and entered the sewers that Ratatullie surfed through :,)

and i need some good ol Genya fluff

preferably where gn!reader comes home from a long mission and Genyas just babying them cause he missed them so much pls

There are many things to be grateful for when you return home from a mission. First, of course, is that you’re even returning — staying alive is no small feat. Second? If you’re relatively unscathed, then definitely getting to shower. If you are injured? Then receiving medical care takes priority, but at least medical care also means uninterrupted rest. Third? Sleeping on your own futon with its plump pillow and soft kakebuton. Not a musty tatami mat. Not a pile of leaves. Not an abandoned temple’s damp stone flooring, stars glimmering through its rotting thatched roof (albeit the aesthetic is stunning… until you’re trying to fall asleep with a crick in your back and cold seeping into your bones). At the risk of sounding vain, these little luxuries are often enough to satisfy you, the inevitable pains and losses of each mission somehow lessened as you melt into your outdoor soaking tub, its wooden panels smoothed by years of use. When you challenge and execute death on a nearly daily basis, it’s the simple things that keep you sane.

Except for Genya. Your decidedly not simple lover.

—

You’re almost home when you start smelling the tantalizing flavors of someone’s dinner. The worn, aching half of you wants to scowl, envious of the aroma, wishing you could grumble at the person responsible for so thoughtlessly flaunting their cooking ability. Your reasonable, appreciative half silently wishes a happy meal to the lucky individual — or family. Slowly, your estate comes into view, faint floral notes beginning to entwine with the more savory scents of assorted meats and vegetables, your mood simultaneously souring and lifting. Everyone deserves moments of indulgence and gentleness… Myself included you huff, unable to stop the petty pout of your lips.

“My love, you look… confused?” Genya greets you, excitement at your arrival evident in his tone even as he remains predominantly focused on his task, eyes flitting upward toward your tired figure.

“Why does it smell delicious?” you demand.

“Ah,” his nose scrunches, ears warming, “You think so?” “Did you steal our neighbor’s dinner?” you growl.

He raises a concerned eyebrow, gesturing nervously at the scene before him, “... no?”

It takes a long moment for realization to hit.

You gasp, “You’re cooking?!”

“For you,” he mutters shyly.

“And the soaking tub?” you ask giddily.

“Recently cleaned and filled with the hottest water I could tolerate,” he confirms your suspicion, “I added a bit of that fancy oil from your side of the sink.”

“How much time do I have?” you’re breathless now, heart bursting with adoration, limbs eager to finally relax.

“As much time as you’d like,” he chuckles, “I’m happy to bring dinner out to you. We can watch the sunset together.”

“You’re incredible,” you gush, hurrying to plant a wet kiss on his cheek, “I feel like crying.”

“So cry,” he shrugs, “I’ll wipe your tears.”

A happy noise bubbles in your throat, hesitant to leave for the bath as affection roots you in place, “You love me.”

“I do love you,” he nods, “I missed you,” voice lowering to a solemn murmur, “Thank you for returning to me.”

Because he hates to think that, someday, he could kiss you, and not even know he’s saying goodbye.

#genya shinazugawa #shinazugawa genya #genya x reader #shinazugawa x reader #drabble #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer

367 notes · View notes

sisterofficerlucychen · 13 days

Note

Chenford pining era! Let's GOOOOO!! I'm so excited (it's what's keeping me sane) that we will get some more scenes like the promo clip for 6x07. Pining and angst, after being together ❤️

OMG PLS ♡ I'M SO HERE FOR PINING ERA 2.0

someone mentioned earlier an example of what this could look like and i just aldkfjadsfl because it's sooo good??? like just the little moments where something might happen — an almost kiss, a brushing graze, a stolen look??? more parallels to 4x01???? more parallels to other angsty moments in general?? and then the progression maybe of that angst that leads to play teasing and flirty banter?? 👀

but also the comedic potential it has too? let me set a scene real quick, imagine this is a cold open: tim and lucy are riding together and they get called to a disturbance at a wedding where chaos ensues and in the madness, she catches the bouquet and they just have this moment of sheer awkwardness ... or angst? heh.

#the rookie #chenford #akfjlafdaskl i cannot wait for this to play out ♡#pay no mind to lucy already having caught a bouquet as an awkward moment #we're ignoring that bc it doesn't count lol

22 notes · View notes

wanderingblindly · 24 days

Note

i see you reblog a director's cut post, i appear in your inbox <3

pls give me anything you choose as director's commentary on Someone in Seattle because i love her very much okay thank you!!!

see ya, love ya, bye!! xx

oh my god yes please let me talk about the undertaking that was Someone in Seattle i love you so much for this

Usually I kinda give a dissection of the entire fic, but i have a million things to say, so we're gonna start with just one fun fact and one scene:

The Studio Photoshoot:

Originally, their first photoshoot together -- the one with the flowers in the studio -- was going to end in a completely different tone; I wanted some sort of inadvertent confession.

The final version of the scene goes as follows:

“You think I’m beautiful then, Osc?” Oscar freezes, camera still held up to his eye. Lando’s gaze is sharp but his smile is small, no more than a quirk of the lips; it’s a more serious expression than Oscar’s seen, like his question is earnest. Like there’s more beneath it. “I –” He starts, lowering the camera to his chest. In a moment of silence, they look at each other, eye to eye. “Fuck off.” Lando brings his cup to his lips again, not breaking eye contact. “How’s the lighting?” “Getting there.”

But when I first typed it out, there was a slight difference in Oscar's response.

“You think I’m beautiful then, Osc?” Oscar freezes, camera still held up to his eye. Lando’s gaze is sharp but his smile is small, no more than a quirk of the lips; it’s a more serious expression than Oscar’s seen, like his question is earnest. Like there’s more beneath it. “I –” He starts, lowering the camera to his chest. In a moment of silence, they look at each other, eye to eye. Quietly, no more than a whispered exhale, he answers: “Yes.” Lando brings his cup to his lips again, not breaking eye contact. “How’s the lighting?” “Getting there.”

I thought it had a lot of potential as a moment because like, Oscar wouldn't really be confessing, exactly, but rather talking about his art. Obviously he thinks Lando is beautiful, or at the very least compelling, if he was willingly to ask him to model for his entire term portfolio. It still would have set him on edge, having to admit something like that out loud, and I think Actual Menace Lando would have enjoyed tormenting him.

It also had the added appeal of like, playing into the conflict at the end: Lando's convinced that Oscar only likes the concept of him, not the actual complicated person underneath. If Oscar had agreed here, it probably would have made that even WORSE.

The reason I didn't keep it is because I didn't want Oscar to start contemplating his feelings yet. I wanted him to continue being an idiot, and I wanted him to be able to pretend that he doesn't feel that way about Lando. Yet.

Oh, and I have some of the Pinterest photos that gave me some inspo for the set up! Here and here and here :)

Soundtrack:

I wrote this entire fic to two songs, which I played for over 1,000 minutes each :) very sane :) I liked the sort of soft wistfulness that both of these have when you zone out to them, it felt very fitting.

#i would love to talk about even more scenes if anyone cares to know!!!!!#or any of my other fics idc!!!!#THANK YOU FOR ASKING ME ANGEL I ADORE YOU!!#ask me :)#directors commentary #Someone in Seattle #Landoscar

18 notes · View notes

soracities · 8 months

Note

hii sorry for sliding this in ur asks (u can totally not answer it if u don’t want to) i think i’m madly in love w a girl but we have gone on only two dates and idk if i’m rushing things a bit, but i have a strong feeling that she might be the one. the way i absolutely can’t stop thinking about her in my waking and sleeping hours, this is literally tearing me apart idk what to do about it — do u have any advice? pls help me if u can, really appreciate it <33

sweet anon you are both in the PR stage you're in love with an idea right now, not a person--not saying you do not genuinely like her but you do not know each other enough to have a grasp of her as a person, you only know how she makes you feel and all these feelings are a response to something from within you: they are hopes and projections fuelled by excitement and maybe a dash of novelty which is very common (and normal, we've all been there) but they can create a bit of a smokescreen that makes it harder to look at your situation clearly, if that makes sense.

i think it will be helpful to try and pause for a bit to ask yourself where those feelings are coming from and what they are in response to-- what exactly is it she gives you that you have not had before? what is her presence representing for you? why is this so important to you? when you are thinking about her constantly, what exactly are those thoughts about? are they in the here and now, or an imagined future? are they based on anything solid she has said or done, or are they more your own daydreams and hopes taking centre stage? is there anything in your life that you feel is lacking or empty and that these feelings are a welcome distraction from?

again, absolutely not dismissing your feelings here but i think it's very easy sometimes to let the excitement of finding someone we like (and who likes us back) run away with us sometimes. at this stage, because it is so early, and because you don't know someone enough they are, essentially, kind of a blank slate for you to pin your own feelings and hopes to--as i said, everyone goes through this at some point, but it's important to try and maintain awareness of this so that you are able to be attentive to the other person as a person, and yourself, too, in a way that is fair to the both of you and allows you to express yourselves, and meet each other, openly and honestly. most realisations we have about a person in these scenarios first require us to know that person for themselves--and this takes time.

i think it's important, right now, that you allow yourself to keep busy and remain active in your life outside of your dates and conversations with the girl you're seeing--not saying to ignore her at all, but to make sure you have other lines of focus too and not to neglect whatever you enjoyed doing, or the other relationships, activities etc that you had before her: keep in touch and meet up with your friends often, or set little goals for yourself during the week--eg., "i'll get in an hour at the gym on thursday" "i'll go for a swim" "i'll try this new restaurant with a friend" "i'll go to the cinema to see xyz" "i'm going to try and make this recipe for lunch / dinner / dessert" etc.

forcing yourself not to think about someone is borderline impossible and is only going to make them an even more powerful presence in your mind (trying not to think about something requires, by definition, that you do think about them which makes for a fabulously frustrating circle) so the best thing to do is to limit how much free time you actually have to do that thinking in--this way your brain is occupied enough that it cannot spend as long fantasising and YOU can stay relatively sane.

i hope your interactions with this girl go well, anon, and i hope that as much as you can, you're able to check in with yourself and understand how you're feeling so you can put everything into a more intentional and aware framework for yourself as your feelings evolve. hope this helps even just a little, sending you lots of love (and support!!) 🤍

#ask #anonymous #notes from elsewhere

46 notes · View notes

siyurikspakvariisis · 2 months

Note

your every thought on Shadowheart/Nocturne pls 🎤

You know how to cheer a girl up.

Spoilering for some of my mutuals who haven't finished the game yet (spoilers for act 2 and 3!):

What made you ship it?

beloved discord friend: abigail thorn appears in act 3 as a sharran cultist, this seems relevant to your interests me: haha nice me after meeting said sharran cultist: I AM NOT THE SAME PERSON I WAS FIVE MINUTES AGO

"I wasn't sure if I'd ever lay eyes on you again" is such an H-bomb (homosexuality bomb) and it only ramps up from there.

What are your favorite things about the ship?

alright. alright. i'm gonna try to be normal and put my thoughts in order instead of incoherently mashing my face against the keyboard.

it's all about nocturne's devotion for someone who cannot remember her. it's all about shadowheart returning to nocturne again and again. it's all about how their bond strains sharran dogma -- enough to make a dark justiciar's resolve crumble, if shadowheart goes that way! it's about how they kept each other's heart safe, how they helped each other survive and keep their kindness more or less intact in an environment that snuffs all kindness and all joy. the paradoxical nature of their bond: they kept each other sane enough to defy sharran dogma, but their bond was such that they tethered each other to the cult, unable to escape to keep the other safe.

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

I get that Shadowheart tends to be the focus on fannish works because she's the one who has more development and whatnot, but there is so much depth crammed into Nocturne's brief appearance? Her status as an officer, her brave but quiet defiance, her complicated relationship with Shar (and with Viconia and with Shadowheart herself! being a caretaker is not easy and often breeds resentment!!) I'd love to see more from Nocturne's perspective.

Also, as I said before. Nocturne was an officer in the cloister. Her hands were not clean. She's very sweet to Shadowheart, yeah, but what about her darker side? There's a lot of untapped potential there.

#baldur's gate 3 #shadowheart #bg3 nocturne #nocturne/shadowheart #one day i should make my tagging system consistent. today is not the day.#pour one out for my poor girlfriend who has not finished the game but has to hear me talk her ear off about these two

20 notes · View notes

undiscovered-horizon · 1 year

Text

"Even closer behind" - Riddler x Reader

[TW: murder, gore, blood, explicit language, jealousy/possessiveness]

SUMMARY: Some guy won't stop texting you so Ed decides to take things into his hands. For better or worse, your problem is gone, well, permanently.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.4k

A/N: give "Hungry Like The Wolf" - Hidden Citizens, Tim Halperin a listen! Inspired by the weird DMs I've gotten on Reddit

Sender: [email protected] Subject: pls respond i'm sorry pls Message: i'm sorry pls give me a 2nd chance it was stupid to spam you god pls i will do anything for you pls text me back im sorry im so pathetic pls pls pls ill be better pls

Your frustrated groan pulled Ed away from his work.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he asked nervously. Ed may have appeared quite collected but in his frenzied mind, he was already playing out tragic scenarios in which you leave him. Everyone said that you were "settling" for him, so maybe you have finally believed them?

"A minor inconvenience, really," you answered with a sigh. "There's this guy, Luke, he's a friend of a friend and keeps asking me out." Ed's heart might have literally stopped at those words. He wasn't stupid, maybe naive at times, so he knew that other people would see that alluring perfection you had flowing through your veins - the same unholy particle that made him lose his mind completely and swear unwavering devotion to you. Sooner or later, someone was going to try to steal you from him and Ed was well aware of that. "I told him 'no' like hundreds of times and ended up blocking his number but he's like an actual cockroach! Like today, he spammed me with e-mails that basically boiled down to him having a meltdown over me dating some jerk and never giving the good guy a chance. He made up a whole scenario in which he's the victim and then got upset with me about it! Damn, I wish I had his mother's phone number so I could send her screenshots."

Ed struggled to swallow. His hand was gripping the pen tight enough to begin to shake. At that point he wasn't even angry - all reason had already left him and now his headspace was only filled with weirdly tranquil bloodthirst. At that moment, the entire world was but white noise, some static that distracted him from his goal. All possibilities for the murder were playing out in his head, a high-pitched ringing in his ears was the only sound he could hear. No one else could have you.

"I'm gonna take a nap," you announced suddenly. "You're welcome to join whenever you're finished."

He watched as you lay on his couch and pulled one of his jackets over your shoulders. For a moment he really did consider taking a break but Ed knew that there was a more pressing matter he had to tend to immediately.

For a man of his size, Ed expected Luke to be a little harder to take down and bind. The, theoretically speaking, hardest part of his plan, turned out to be greatly unexciting but maybe it was for the better - he will have more strength for the delicious main course.

"Before we get to the main event, let's play a little game, shall we?" Ed spoke while circling Luke who was taped to a chair. "I'll give you a riddle and you'll solve it. If you get it right, I'll kill you."

"And... if I don't?" the man asked. His voice was shaky, panic already gnawing at his reason. It seemed as if the longer he stared at the masked face, the less sane he became.

"I'll kill you too, only sooner. So, let's get to." Ed clapped his hands and rubbed them in excitement. "I am always near and never far. I am often avoided but always catch up. I will come when you're old and grey or maybe even the very next day. I come in many forms whether it's irony, love, laughter, or hate. I am everyone's final fate."

Luke stared at Ed in confusion, too terrified to even begin deciphering the riddle. His mind was more focused on delaying his upcoming death rather than on the words that had just left Ed's mouth. Aside from overwhelming fear, Luke's mind was completely blank.

"What the fuck, man?!" Luke yelled out desperately. It all seemed like a sick joke, something too demented to be the candid thoughts of a human being.

"Not even close, Luke." Ed shook his head. "Are you trying at all?! You can't be that stupid, come on!"

"Fuck, man, I don't know! Let me go, you psycho!"

"Luke, Luke, Luke... why are you making things hard for yourself? Would it hurt to finally use your brain after all those years?"

"Fuck you!" he yelled spitting out some blood. Ed really landed that hit with the bat.

A tense silence fell for a moment. It was probably that very moment, the calm quietness of the executioner, that made Luke realize his imminent fate. Ed admired the fear and resignation in the man's eyes.

"Fine."

Ed stretched out a long piece of silver tape and began taping around Luke's head, leaving only a small gap for the man's nostrils - if he died of asphyxiation, a little too fast for Ed's liking, the whole sentiment of the ordeal would have been lost.

Luke thrashed, at least as much as he could while being severely restrained. His frantic movements momentarily stopped as he heard the shriek of metal - a blade had either been pulled out or someone was sharpening it very slowly.

Without hesitation or fear, Ed stabbed Luke's abdomen. The man began thrashing again, only worsening his wound.

"You have to pay for what you've done, Luke. Those are the rules."

Blood gushed out of the open wound after Ed had taken the blade out. His hand trembled but not with fear, no - it was excitement, some primal passion for taking lives that fairly quickly pushed out his self-control.

When Ed raised his hand again, preparing for another blow, it was as if the world ceased to exist: it was only him, his blind range and the asshole that dared to try to steal something that belonged to Ed and Ed only.

Spiralling into ferocious, frenzied hunger, Ed began frantically stabbing Luke, his hand driving the blade inside the man's stomach only to pull it out right away. He was too far gone to even begin to realize that his arm was beginning to ache:

"You can't have her. You can never have her! No one can have her! I won't let you steal her away from me. She's mine, mine, mine!"

By the end of his tantrum, Luke's insides were already mush, stabbed into an impressionist's grotesque vision of entrails. There was blood on his clothes as well as little bits and pieces of Luke's organs. Justice was done, all that was left now was peace.

He was about to leave the condo, let life take its course but suddenly he remembered your words - that if you could, you would have sent Luke's mother evidence of her son's antics. Yes, he could do that for you...

Ed reached for the dead man's phone and used the corpse's still warm finger to unlock it. Having taken at least ten photographs, all at different angles to broaden their artistic scope, and then hit 'send'.

The heavy rain was thundering against the windows and so there was no point in Ed going out of his way to enter the apartment as quietly as he could. Nevertheless, he did his best. Peeking into the living room turned study, he saw you laying still on the couch - still asleep, covered with one of his jackets. Your face was so soft, so undisturbed. Exactly the way it should be.

Ed was happy to announce that the vermin was gone and he wasn't going to disturb you any longer. In fact, he was happy enough to be ready to wake you up the moment he came back home but he knew better - you needed some rest.

Carefully, not to wake you up, he removed the jacket you were sleeping under. Ed lay down on the couch with you, wrapping his arms tightly around you as if you were going to walk out the door any second. He listened to your steady, shallow breaths and calm heartbeat. You were there, with him, the only way it should ever be; the only way he'll allow it to be.

He was going to make you feel happy, proud and loved - even if it was the last thing he would do in his life.

246 notes · View notes

ticklygiggles · 2 months

Note

HELLOOO!!! soo i have some tickling head canons for Zhongli if you’re interested…

- He loves/hates being tickled. Like, if doing it is someone that knows him fully or since a long time, he would not mind it too much. But if it would be someone that he doesn’t really know deeply, he would be quite annoyed but still couldn’t help but laugh helplessly

- HIS LAUGH. BRO. the MAIN reason he always gets tickled. I like to think he has a high pitched laugh when he gets tickled, and when cackles, unlike his usual deep, and elegant chuckle which I also find cute because…I love Zhongli.

- Extremely ticklish waist and hips! I like to think he might be ticklish everywhere, but these two are hell for him. if you touch, scribble, squeeze, poke on that teeny little thing, he would be on the floor, in tears.

- Only a few people know he’s ticklish, and these people are: Venti, Childe, Hu tao and Xiao. Venti used to take advantage of it ALWAYS; also when they used to have a friendly spar in the past, as Venti knew the had no chance of winning, he always used this little tactic on Morax hehe. When Childe discovered Zhongli was ticklish, it was when he once saw Hu Tao annoying him with her damn tickles. And since then Childe kept teasing him and tickling him ALWAYS and at every occasion. (Also tartali bonus: Zhongli goes crazy whenever Childe kisses his neck, every single little part of it is ticklish. he’d snort once, and if Childe keeps going, he’d start squirming and giggling.

- He has particularly ticklish back and ribs; not as much as the waist and hips, but it’s definitely a very good spot if you want to send him into fits of giggles.

- He DESPISES being touched on his thighs, especially his inner thighs. It absolutely breaks him.

- Bro has the cutest smile I’m not sorry I said it rawrrr

- Another tartali bonus: He gets flustered when childe blows in his ear. Like, he can’t stand it. He makes a rather cute and funny noise whenever Childe does so and he chuckles a little.

I LOVE THIS MAN WHAT😿 wreck him pls wreck him ajdhwkheka I NEED I NEED I NEED TO AKHDKWBE PIN HIM DOWN AND KISS HIS TUM AKDHOWHW (#sane)

*BANGS HEAD AGAINST THE WALL*

All of these are SO DAMN GOOD SKDNDODNDK Zhongli having horribly ticklish thighs GIVES ME LIFE YOU DONT HAVE IDEA DKDNDJF

I will marry the headcanon that Zhongli has ticklish hips and waist, y'all are invited to the wedding. You anon are my VIP invite

No seriously all of these are so gooood ticklish Zhongli content will always be a masterpiece *screams into the void* thank you for the food NOM OMSJSKDJDD

#anonymous #answered #genshin impact tickling #ticklish!Zhongli #a little bit of ol' good #chili

18 notes · View notes

free-for-all-fics · 7 months

Text

Phantom of the Opera and Beauty and the Beast Crossover AU Prompt! This was going to be a much, much, much shorter prompt, but then inspiration hit me very hard and it got very long, but it still doesn’t feel quite right for me to call this a full fic or oneshot. If you’re inspired by any ideas presented here, pls tag me and I’d love to read it! 🌹❤️🥀

The faerie hesitated. She knew tradition demanded that she curse the newborn prince for not being invited to the christening, but it wasn't his fault the messenger fell off his horse. She decided to get creative with the wording. Thus, instead of being cursed to die, Erik, the firstborn son to the king of France, was cursed with a deformed face. The prince would become more beautiful with every awful deed he committed, but the curse wouldn’t be broken until he found someone who could love him for his heart and marry him. He was disowned from the royal family and disinherited from the throne, decried as a “demon” or “living corpse”. He grew up with no knowledge of his true lineage and was instead raised by the servants and kept in the walls. The queen was fed lies that Erik died shortly after the christening, and she mourned for her baby boy. She never fully recovered from what she believed to be her firstborn son’s death, but later gave birth to another son, Prince Adam.

The king was known for ruling his kingdom with a cruel iron fist and raised the young prince to be selfish and arrogant, even forbidding the servants from ever questioning or objecting to his ways of raising his son. The prince used to live in the castle with his beloved mother as a sweet child until she died from an illness, which gave his cruel father the opportunity to harden his heart to become a more arrogant but effective ruler of the kingdom. He showed no concern over the loss of the queen, and led his son away from his wife's deathbed without any emotion. Erik became the court composer and exhibited a megalomaniacal personality, convinced he was a genius of music. He considered himself to be great and was never stingy with a compliment for himself. He was lugubrious and had not seemed to share the joys of the castellans and other courtesans. Erik spent much of his time isolating himself in the dark, too busy with concertos and operas of his own composition that he claimed would bring the house down.

“Bravo, bravo! Encore!”

“You approve?”

“Oh, maestro, it's magnificent!”

“Oh, come along. It's merely an opera...to bring the house down! Yes, I know...now, in the midst of my crescendo, I thought I heard merriment outside the window. Have a look see, will you?”

He had a deep hatred towards happiness or, at the very least, happy songs, as he preferred sad, depressing, mournful music. He was extremely superior, cunning, powerful, intelligent, and a bit misanthropic, as he considered humanity to be overrated. Though he was dashingly handsome with a debonair smile on the outside, he considered himself not only an Angel of Music, but a God of Deformity. Despite his face being perfect, he always wore a mask of impassivity when playing music for the public. He was surrounded by beautiful and wealthy women who vied for his attentions, but they were often incredibly shallow or boring, only looking to get into his bed for the night. He longed for more stimulating conversation, full of passion and intellect. The only way to keep himself sane while suffering through idle chat and pleasantries was to escape through his life’s work, treating his music as incomplete masterpieces he was eager to finish.

Following the king’s death, Erik learned of his lineage and the conditions of his curse, but never revealed these truths to Prince Adam. It was better for him to be a best friend and advisor to the prince, rather than a brother and prince himself. He blamed his father for his disfigurement, but he was secretly scared of his corpse and had refused to attend the funeral. As much as he hated the man, maybe his father was right when he used to say that ignorance is bliss.

In another kingdom, the prince fell ill. The widowed king dearly loved his last surviving son and heir, and doctors tried everything but he grew weaker and weaker. They told the king about a mythical rose that witches were rumored to use to cure any illness. The king searched the whole kingdom for the rose to no avail, and his campaign soon became a gruesome witch hunt. His path was lined with the witches he had slain, but the rose was nowhere to be found. Exhausted, bloody, and at his wit's end, the king came to a witch's house on the outskirts of his kingdom. He fell to his knees, begging the witch to help cure his son, and she agreed. The witch explained that the rose held tremendous power that could only very carefully be used for good, and instructed he only use a single petal. Using the whole bloom would only invite death. The prince began to recover, but discontent at the royal line had grown in the kingdom following the king’s bloody campaign. The next day, the king found his son murdered in his bed, and the last light holding his darkness at bay was snuffed out.

Heartbroken, the king turned to the bloom which had promised life, and instead saw it as an escape from his suffering. Lonely and depressed, he felt that all hope was lost after so much tragedy. He was too old to remarry and believed himself to have been cursed. He left his castle with nothing but the rose in hand, and wandered off into the icy wastes of a cruel and bitter winter, hoping to die somewhere his body could never be found and thus end the curse he believed he was put under. Instead, he came across the corpse of a woman who had frozen to death underneath a dead man hanging from a noose. In her arms, he found you, a still living baby girl who became blind due to being out in the elements. In his madness, you bore a remarkable resemblance to his late queen. He believed you to be his daughter and of his blood, so he took you in. The witch, having come to visit the king and the prince, looked at the nightmarish scene in despair. She raised a mountain on top of the king, erecting a dome of rock around the castle to imprison him and prevent him from wreaking further havoc across the land.

You grew up to be a virtuous, graceful beauty, but since you’d been blind since birth, no one had ever told you nor did you know that you were a princess. You lived in a beautiful enclosed garden within the king's castle, secluded from the world, in the care of loyal servants. The king feared you’d be targeted and killed if you were to ever learn you were the princess, so you never learned the truth until you came of age and were betrothed to marry Prince Adam of France. You were raised unaware of the circumstances surrounding the tragedies the king suffered or of his madness. You knew nothing of the witch. As far as you knew, as the daughter of the king, you never expected to inherit anything until a tragic accident caused the deaths of all your brothers and made you his sole legitimate heir. Now he expected you to act as a proper princess after being absent from your whole life.

You were a bright spot of happiness within the castle. You had a lovely singing voice and cared about everyone, living or dead, and everyone loved you in return. Your attendants would bring flowers and sing with you. Your garden was beautiful and full of a wide variety of blossoming wildflowers, except for roses. No matter what color roses were planted in your garden, they all turned out black in the end and smelled like death. Roses had become so rare that they were the most sought after flower in your kingdom, sold at high prices in black markets, under guard in national museums, etc.

You often declared your sadness, and your vague sense that you were missing something important that other people could experience. Your father insisted that you mustn’t discover your blindness and that your betrothed wasn’t to find out about this until after you were married. Your father had you and Prince Adam married by proxy before you had even met. A further ceremonial wedding and festivities followed by the ritual bedding would come later.

Your family had passed down a heirloom for generations: A hand mirror of medium size, framed in pure silver with ornate vine scrollwork. It was tradition that, upon their wedding day, each inheritor must look into the mirror at least once. It was said to be an enchanted mirror that could show you your soulmate, but your reflection never changed when it was your turn to look. However, ever since you’d looked into the mirror, you’d been haunted by a pale and faceless man that only you could see when you closed your eyes. He was there, behind your eyelids and inside your mind. The man moved in slow motion and, when you slept at night, you didn’t dream.

Your new husband, Prince Adam, arrived at the court with his best friend, Erik. The prince and Erik were warned by your loyal servants not to speak of light, colors, or anything of the sort with you. Wanting to bring you a wedding gift, the king arrived with a famed Persian physician who stated that you could be cured, but the physical cure would only work if you were psychologically prepared by being made aware of your own blindness. You appreciated the thought, but you had no will to see as others did and refused your father’s gift. You were born this way and loved yourself as you were. You believed you could see, you just saw things differently or saw so much more. The king supported your decision and refused the treatment, fearing for your happiness if the cure should fail after you’d learned what you were missing.

Erik found the entrance to your secret garden, ignoring the sign which threatened death to anyone who entered. He stumbled upon you singing without realizing who you were and instantly fell in love. Prince Adam, astounded by his friend’s behavior, was convinced you were a sorceress who had bewitched Erik. Prince Adam ordered him to leave but Erik was too entranced, so he departed with the promise he’d be back to save him.

“I am Maestro Erik, court composer and your most humble servant.”

You sang a magnificent duet together. Erik, who asked you to give him a certain flower as a keepsake, realized you were blind when you twice offered him different flowers with similar scents. You wished more than anything for a rose, but only black roses grew here and you didn’t know why. You had no concept of light, vision, or blindness. You fell in love with Erik after he explained light and color to you, believing him to be the faceless man from the mirror and your soulmate. When Prince Adam returned with your father, Erik admitted to seeing the warning sign at the garden entrance. The furious king threatened to execute Erik for revealing the truth to you, but spared him after Prince Adam realized you were his wife. He spoke for Erik, vouching for his character. The king relented, and let Erik return to France with you and your new husband.

Though Erik reciprocated your love, he felt conflicted and unworthy of you because of his curse and his deformities. He exclusively wore masks that covered his entire face. He only told you the color of his eyes, but nothing more. You loved him anyway, but you were born to privilege and with that came specific obligations. You were forced by your father to marry Prince Adam and, although you were spared the brunt of his cruelty, you still had to live year after year witnessing how monstrous your new husband was. From mistreating the castle servants to taxing the townspeople too high while doing nothing to help ease their hardships and burdens, you regretted your arranged marriage.

Despite being a princess, you were still a woman in a man’s world and could do nothing to free yourself from this loveless and miserable union. You and Prince Adam may have consummated your marriage out of duty, but you never shared his bed after that night and kept to separate rooms. If you had to keep Erik in secret and only love him in the dark, then that was enough for you. It had to be enough for you. Even if you longed for more. A life without love was no life at all, so you and Erik had no other choice. No matter how much you loved Erik, you could only love him at night and he had to depart before the lark sang. Every morning you’d have your kitchen maid procure a special tea for you to ensure you didn’t come to be with child. This was your fate and you’d accepted it, but Erik hadn’t. He’d brought up fantastical ideas of running away and eloping, but you wouldn’t hear of it.

“My father forbids me to end my marriage to the prince, Erik. Doing so, especially for a man like you, an untitled bachelor without family who hides his face behind a mask and accrues his wealth from dubious means, would ruin me. It’d cause a scandal so great I could never recover from it. I had to marry a man of substance, father said. A certain wealthy prince. In the eyes of the royal court, you won’t amount to anything but, in my eyes, you’re worth the whole lot of them put together. I fear I would’ve killed myself by now, were it not for the unbearable thought of leaving you behind. My heart can’t bear to inflict such cruelty onto you. You don’t deserve that. But I can’t run away with you, no matter how much I may want to. The wants and desires of a woman, even a princess, are irrelevant.”

As much as he hated it, he understood and reluctantly respected your decision. You and Erik were so in love. You saved him from his solitude, you were the light in the darkness of his existence, but you seemed to be kept apart by forces beyond your control. Still, the maestro gave you, his Angel of Music, a bundle of red roses with a fake one nestled inside, and told you that you'd be with him until the last one withered.

One winter’s night, an old beggar woman came to the castle and offered a single rose in return for shelter from the bitter cold. You, the mistress of the castle, showed kindness to the old woman as she let you feel the petals. They were so soft, softer than any flower you held before, and it smelled sweet, far sweeter than any other rose. You simply asked what color the rose was since you couldn’t see. When she told you it was red, you were amazed. Erik had told you about red when he gave you your first bouquet of roses, how it symbolized love and passion. He described it as the color of the sun or fire, bringing warmth to the hearts of men. Your kingdom had been cursed to only grow black roses that reeked of death, so to have a rose of such a vibrant color in full bloom, especially in the depths of this freezing winter, seemed like magic. You were about to let her inside and have a servant show her to a spare bedroom for the night so she could warm up and settle in, but your husband stopped you, cruelly snatching the rose from your hand and pulling you away from the old woman.

Repulsed by her haggard appearance, the prince sneered at the gift and turned the old woman away. But she warned him not to be deceived by appearances, for beauty is found within. And when he dismissed her again, the old woman's ugliness melted away to reveal a beautiful enchantress. The prince tried to apologize, but it was too late, for she had seen that there was no love in his heart, and as punishment, she transformed him into a hideous beast and placed a powerful spell on the castle, and all who lived there - even you, the princess who showed her compassion. She spared you as much as she could, not wanting your kindness to go unrewarded, but the prince and everyone else in the castle had to learn a lesson. She let you keep your human form, but erased your and Prince Adam’s memories of each other after your marriage so that you’d both have the chance to find true love in the future. However, by doing this, she inadvertently erased your memories of Erik since you only met and started your love affair after you and the prince were married. The enchantress had good intentions and thought she was doing you a great kindness, but her gift was a curse.

After the enchantress placed her curse upon the castle, turning Prince Adam into a beast and everyone else into household objects, he thought that you'd learn to love him since you were still blind and couldn’t see him. He thought you were disgusted with him because of his beastly appearance. In turn, you called him out on this, saying the real reason had to do with his arrogance and cruelty. You still despised him anyway because he was cruel, selfish, and unkind, with no love in his heart. Ever since then, the Beast showed nothing but shame for his actions and hated his cruel father for raising him to be a tyrant, even tearing up a portrait of himself out of anger. Even the servants themselves were in full regret of their reluctance to speak out against the king, implying that they truly despised him for his cruel nature. To you and Beast, you had never married and were only betrothed. Your fathers were both dead by this point, so you didn’t see any reason to go through with the wedding. You left him, claiming that people don't hate him because of his appearance, but because of how he acts, and that he's not some terrifying beast or powerful prince, but a pathetic human named Adam.

After you left, enchantment was the only good thing that happened to Erik. He was turned into a pipe organ and could use music to move nearby objects, but couldn’t move himself, as his new form was far too large and bolted to the wall. But he found himself more useful to his master as a composer and was willing to do everything in his power to stay in that new form. He developed powerful abilities, which he could release through his own music, and became obsessed with it. He wanted more. To possess this forbidden magic, Erik had to sacrifice a memory of equal value. His thoughts about you might’ve given him pause in the past, but you were gone and it didn’t seem like you were ever coming back. He no longer cared about losing his memories for a spell. Falling in love with you while you were married to his brother was painful enough, but his nights with you offered him some respite. He took solace in knowing neither you nor Adam were aware of this family secret, though this comfort was cold and tainted with bitterness. Your miserable marriage to his brother combined with your memory erasure and leaving was too much for Erik to bear, so he erased all his memories of you in exchange for these dark powers. His father was right after all! Ignorance was bliss.

The Beast considered him much more valuable as an advisor and confidant, and found his depressing arrangements of notable classical music somehow made him feel better. It was said that music soothes the savage beast, and they couldn't be more correct. Erik kept the Beast isolated from everyone else in the castle, and close to himself in order to prevent the spell from breaking, which had remained for 10 long years. Erik was a good talker, as he was able to captivate the spirits, to insinuate his hypnotic music, to convince everybody with honeyed words and a soft voice. He appeared to the Beast as his "best friend", but he was actually manipulating him because he wanted to remain as a pipe organ forever and sought some attention. However, this attitude was only displayed because he was quite afraid to fade in the background, afraid that he’d be forgotten. He wasn’t appreciated by anyone as the inhabitants of the castle seemed to ignore him at the least, except for the Beast. The Beast came to him often to hear his soothing music, which would ease his tormented soul.

“Your music is the only thing that helps me forget.”

“Don't worry, old friend. I'm here for you, just as I have been, just as I always will be.”

The more magic Erik used, the more he deviated from being human, not just in body but in mind as well. Moreover, the type of magic he used influenced the changes that occurred within him. He slowly became corrupted by his own desperate desire to be loved. Without you by his side, Erik became arrogant, evil, sarcastic, manipulative, acrimonious, obstreperous, and somewhat paranoid. Under the curse, he composed tirelessly his next opera, “Don Juan Triumphant”, whose sole purpose was to make the castle collapse.

“Erik! Stop the noise!”

“Noise? Noise?! This is my masterpiece.”

You’d lived in castles and palaces among the richest people of any age. But never, never had you stood in greater luxury than when you moved into this quaint little town and lived the life of a simple peasant, surrounded by townspeople who didn’t know who you once were. You loved the hustle and bustle of running errands and doing daily chores, you loved being part of a community and helping others, you loved wearing much simpler dresses, you loved getting dirty and feeling tired in a good way from a hard day’s work. You befriended a lovely woman named Belle, who was about your age, and her father, Maurice. Though they both seemed to be the talk of the town and considered “odd”, you came to love them like family.

Maurice was a musician who was traveling to a music festival to perform. But since the curse, the world had lost its music and melody. All composers in town became superstitious, believing in a “Curse of the 9th Symphony”, its origins unknown. Maurice was a skeptic and, having premiered his 8th symphony last night on stage, a mysterious hooded figure handed him a letter after the performance. “After your 9th,” it said, “I will return. He has a job for you.” Maurice then went missing while on his way home, shortly after his 9th symphony. Philippe returned alone. When Belle went in search of her missing father, you insisted on going with her, not wanting her to get lost in the woods like Maurice might’ve. These woods were dangerous, especially at night when the wolves came out. When you came up to the tall iron gates and Belle found Maurice’s hat, you cursed to yourself. Of course you’d be brought back here. Escape was an illusion, it seemed. Oh, cruel fate, would this nightmare ever end?

While in the castle, Maurice had come across a silver music box. The music box was empty, the cords cut yet, somehow, a song started playing when he opened it. How was this accomplished? He fiddled with the music box and wound it up, making the princess figurine spin in a dance. Unbeknownst to him, it was something never seen in at least a decade. It had been a wedding present for you but, after the curse was cast, the Beast’s heart stayed dark from that moment on. Its melody brought back the Beast’s bad memories; all his mistakes, all his regrets, and all his pain. For the master of the castle, it was a Pandora’s Box that contained many horrors. Each note of that lovely melody seemed to deepen the Beast’s anguish. He couldn't bear to hear it. When Maurice opened it, the Beast could hear it from the West Wing and flew into a rage. He picked up Maurice, carried him out of the room and slammed the door, plunging the den into darkness. For daring to trespass and open your music box, Maurice was Beast’s prisoner, sentenced to rot in the dungeons forever.

When Belle took her father’s place as the Beast’s prisoner, you insisted on staying with her and the Beast let you, giving you your old room back. While the Beast had destroyed his own room, yours remained untouched and was just as you left it 10 years ago. You didn’t tell Belle about the curse nor your complicated history with the Beast because, as much as you may not have seen eye to eye in your past turbulent relationship, you still believed he could change. He deserved that chance to love and be loved in return. You worried that Beast's psychological state would become increasingly feral the longer he was under the curse, such that he would eventually lose his last vestiges of humanity and become completely wild if the spell couldn’t be broken. You wanted the spell to be broken, if not for his sake, then for everyone else in the castle. Everyone, even you, played against Erik, trying to provoke love between Belle and the Beast to break the spell. But Erik wouldn’t be deterred so easily, and continued plotting and scheming in the shadows of the West Wing.

“Trust me. Humanity is entirely overrated. Before the enchantment, there was no need for my particular brand of genius. But now, the master needs my melodies to feed his tormented soul. I am his confidant and his best friend...and I won't let some peasant girl ruin it for me! I will see to it that this blossoming love withers on the vine.”

Neither you nor Erik could remember each other, but you both had this indescribable feeling that wouldn’t go away. You weren’t sure what it was exactly. Even before you officially met again, it almost felt like a pull, a thought trying to break out from the back of your minds, or a strange sense of Deja Vu. Erik hated it with a passion and played his music loudly to drown it out, while you were just confused. While exploring the castle and reacquainting yourself with everything, You could’ve sworn you heard a man’s voice hypnotizing you, seducing you, urging you to enter the West Wing. The Beast’s room. But you couldn’t possibly! It was forbidden! The Beast had warned both you and Belle! And yet…

“Yes, my dear. Come to me.”

You felt like you’d been in this room before. A strange sense of familiarity washed over you as you felt around the walls to guide yourself, but for some indiscernible reason, you hated this room and everything in it. Avoiding broken furniture and other obstacles in your way, you felt fresh air coming from an open window and approached the balcony. You felt around a small table until your hand brushed against something cold and made of glass. A bell jar. When you touched it, you felt warmth and light emanating from underneath it. Next to it, you picked up something cold and heavy. You felt the engravings and markings decorating the frame and handle, and your fingers tapped against the glass of its face. Your handheld mirror that your father once gave you. But it was glowing just like the bell jar and you could hear strange crackling noises coming from it, almost like lightning. What had the enchantress done to it?

You were about to inspect it further, but you could hear music coming from an adjacent room. The door was left ajar and, when Erik noticed you were looking at him, he immediately doused his candles and fell silent. Wandering over to the organ, you spotted a half-finished set of sheet music set aside, complete with inkwell and quill. Curious, you sat down at the organ and began reading it.

“Don’t touch that!” Erik’s voice snapped, seemingly coming from nowhere and scaring you half to death as you were chased away from the organ. You looked around frantically and reached out your hands, confused when you felt no one around you. You thought maybe it was a ghost or ventriloquism, until you realized it was the pipe organ itself that was talking to you, towering over you with a scrutinizing glare that you couldn’t see but could feel. Right. Enchanted castle. You’d never gotten used to it back then, and you still wouldn’t. Not now, not ever. But you felt a strange sense of longing when you heard his voice. He scoffed in disgust whenever you mentioned love or breaking the spell.

“A daring woman, cursed with such beauty but never able to see it, a pity even. A beauty such as yourself, meets beasts in dark hallways and forbidden rooms? An act of love or lust, so you say? Beasts know nothing of the sort. Empty your heart, cast it aside, I say. Dreadful beasts we are, no less? Beauty may fool a blind man, but no beast!”

Months passed. The enchanted rose continued to wilt. Christmas was coming. The Beast, wanting to get a present for Belle, ordered Erik to compose a song for her, much to Erik’s disgust. The girl was evil. She held the master from Erik’s grasp. She filled his head with dreams of love and hope! Yech!

“I want you to compose a song. It's a present…for Belle. And make it happy!”

“Oh, but happiness is so depressing! What's next? Love songs?! Wedding marches?! It's all that girl's fault.”

He had fabricated another curse, a false one to orchestrate distrust within the nearby villages so that the townspeople would either ban music and/or turn on each other. If he instilled fear and superstition so there was no competition, then he’d definitely be the best musician in the world! His plot to get Maurice killed had failed, but he could still go after his daughter. She was a threat to his plans. He twisted Belle’s words and emotionally manipulated her so she’d want to get a Christmas tree in the Black Forest beyond a frozen lake. He lured her away from the castle, and did everything in his power so she’d never come back. While she was away, Erik told the Beast that Belle had abandoned him, thus stoking Beast's anger. He then tried to goad the Beast into destroying the enchanted rose, the symbol of the curse, but the Beast ultimately decided not to when a rose petal landed on the storybook from Belle, thus allowing him to regain his senses. Erik’s plan to drive Belle and the Beast apart almost worked, but was ultimately foiled by the Beast.

“So, Beast gets girl, and it's a happy ending for everyone. Enchantment lifted...and Erik fades into the background. No longer important...no longer needed…I THINK NOT!”

Enraged at the failure of his plan to break up Belle and the Beast's relationship, Erik lost what was left of his sanity and gave into his destructive and suicidal thoughts that had plagued his mind for years. He had no regard for his own life as he was willing to take everyone's lives in the castle along with his own to ensure that the spell remained intact. With the Beast having broken free of his hypnotic control, Erik believed he had nothing else to live for and attempted to bring the castle down with his loud music, playing “Don Juan Triumphant” more intensely to rupture the walls and shatter the windows. He shook the walls to pieces, debris fell, the floors began to separate and created perilous chasms.

“Maestro, stop! What do you think you're doing?”

“Don't you see? They can't fall in love if they're DEAD! You could've joined me, but I see my triumph is a solo act! We can remain as we are, FOREVER AND EVER!”

“ERIK! ENOUGH!”

Erik was finally defeated when the Beast ripped out his keyboard from him, which ceased his contact with his pipes. In a blind rage, Erik tore himself free of the wall and began to collapse, effectively killing himself as he crashed to the ground, destroyed. Despite Erik’s true colors being exposed and his diabolical plans foiled, the Beast mourned Erik’s demise, as he still considered him to be his closest friend.

After the curse was broken, everyone was turned back into humans, and yours and Prince Adam’s memories were restored. You both remembered that you were technically still married and thus had extramarital affairs - you before the curse, and he during the curse. But this realization wasn’t awkward. What was there to forgive? You and Adam were forced into marriage by your fathers and each fell in love with another, it happens. You just considered yourselves even. It took lots of paperwork, but with his signature here, and your signature there, you and Prince Adam officially dissolved your marriage, much to both yours and his relief. You let bygones be bygones after your divorce and considered yourselves friends, no hard feelings. The prince assured you that you’d always be welcome here in his castle, and it was your choice whether you wanted to stay, return to your kingdom, or go elsewhere.

While everyone was downstairs celebrating in the ballroom, you went back to the West Wing, to the prince’s room where Erik was. You remembered him. Oh, your poor darling! Your dear Erik had suffered so much sadness and so much pain, surrounded by people yet completely alone in the castle for all those years. He was human again but he laid deathly still, face down on the floor. You took out the music box and it played that familiar melody, your song. The enchantress appeared one last time and used her magic to resurrect Erik. She couldn’t condone his abuse of forbidden and evil magic, but she’d seen for herself he’d been punished enough. She asked for your forgiveness. She only ever wanted to give you a chance to find true love and happiness, but she didn’t realize you already had it. Consider this parting gift from her her repentance for inadvertently cursing you. She wouldn’t bend or break the laws of life and death for just anyone, but true love was the most magical gift of all, so she did it once for Belle and Adam, and again for you and Erik. She would no longer interfere with either yours and Erik’s or Belle and Adam’s happy endings. You needn’t do anything to repay her, just go on and live happily ever after.

When Erik woke up, his memories of you were restored. You were discovered by the prince, and he was so relieved and ecstatic to see his best friend alive. Erik finally pledged his love for you in front of the prince, not caring that you were blind and married, unaware you had already ended your marriage contract moments before. The prince gave you to Erik with his blessing, not that you ever needed it, but you and Erik appreciated it. Erik moved into your bedchamber where he would often awaken to the sun streaming through the curtains and the lark singing, just like he had always dreamed. No more hiding under the cloak of night, no more sneaking through secret passageways. He relished in finally sharing your bed, but he had a difficult time adjusting to being human again. He still experienced trauma from the curse, and was plagued by nightmares at night. He confided in you his guilt and regrets, his fears and anxieties, and all his insecurities while you gently rubbed his back, drew patterns on his chest, or held his hand. He felt like he maybe didn’t deserve to be this happy after all he had done.

“It's just...it was different when we were all cursed objects. When we could move around freely and act however we wanted to. When I could just play my music. When I knew exactly how to get the master to smile and relax with my music. Even if it meant we'd be cursed forever, I was happier as a pipe organ."

“And it’s going to take time, my love, but we can learn to be happy again, as humans. As husband and wife, if you’ll still have me. I’m sorry for all that I’ve put you through. I’m sorry for making you wait so long.”

“Now that I finally have you in my arms again, ten years didn’t feel long at all. I would wait a thousand years more and still take you to be my bride.”

The four of you eventually held a double wedding in the castle. As soon as the rings were exchanged and Erik kissed his bride, the curse placed upon him at birth was finally broken. But when the bright light encompassing him had dissipated, instead of a handsome man, his face was still that of a living corpse. His eyes were so deep that one could hardly see the fixed pupils, just two big black holes, as in a dead man's skull. His skin, which was stretched across his bones like a drumhead, wasn’t white, but a nasty yellow. His nose was so little worth talking about that one couldn’t see it side-face; and the absence of that nose was a horrible thing to look at. All the hair he had was three or four long dark locks on his forehead and behind his ears. But you saw nothing ugly in your husband at all, he was absolutely perfect. He was beauty itself, and you didn’t need your eyesight to see that.

“My love, are you okay?”

“Well, yes. But I don’t understand. I’m supposed to be beautiful.”

“Oh, Erik, but you are beautiful.”

The double wedding was a grander celebration than the one that was held after the curse was lifted. The festivities lasted an entire week, and you all sang together of the magical new world now visible to you as the court and townspeople rejoiced.

#phantom of the opera x reader #erik x reader #prince adam x reader #prince Adam x Belle #beast x belle #beauty and the beast #phantom of the opera #beauty and the beast AU #phantom of the opera AU #crossover au #crossover #crossover fic #arranged marriage #took inspiration from Iolanta and Bramble: The Mountain King too #also a tiny bit of inspiration from The Man Who Laughs #random fic idea #random prompt #pls tag me if you’re inspired by this #I’d love to read it

45 notes · View notes