Phantom Of The Opera Fanfiction 소설 & 이야기

How about the Phantom of the Opera? Daphnie's smile grew wider. "Yes!" "Alright." After putting the Phantom of the Opera on, I sat back on the couch. This time a little closer to Daphnie. We both took a jalapeño, and I asked Daphnie if she needed anything. Immediately, Daphnie was wholly absorbed into the movie. At the end of the auction scene, she smiled and sat up when the entire theater lit up, and the theme song for the movie played. Throughout the film, she sang along and harmonized beautifully with Emmy Rossum. I was impressed and touched when she sang Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again.

Realizing he said it out loud, he felt a bit awkward when he heard a small snicker escape the Phantom. “What?! I decided, didn’t I?!” Rainer yelled with a flushed face. “Oh it isn’t that, It’s just. Well nothing, it’s a fine answer!” Even though his fae was covered, Rainer could tell he was smiling. A dark aura began to surround the blue steps and slowly creeped on top of them. Turning them into jet black steps. The Phantom laid his arm out towards the peak “Your future awaits.” Rainer looked at the Phantom “Aren’t you coming with me?”

We would lure Seraphina and Lucian into a trap at an abandoned research facility once connected to Project Reaper, the very place where my conception had been manipulated. The night before the operation, the tension was unbearable. Damien made love to me with devastating intensity in front of the fireplace. He took his time, kissing every stretch mark, every curve, until I was begging. When he finally entered me, it was slow and profound, eyes locked on mine as snow fell outside. “I love you,” he rasped, thrusting deep. “More than power, more than revenge, more than anything.” “I love you,” I gasped, meeting him thrust for thrust. “My monster, my king.”

“Don’t! You can have the crown. Please, just stop, Canum! Stop hurting him—please.” He sneers. “As much as I appreciate your cooperation, the acquiescence I need has to come from the king, not his worthless girlfriend.” The knife inches higher up Phantom’s throat. “One.” “Phantom, please! Give him the crown!” “Two.” “I can’t live without you,” I sob. Phantom’s eyes flutter twice. Horror seizes me as he nods at Canum, using his last breath to whisper, “I love you.” Canum beams, savoring victory. His hand twists, copper blade sinking deeper. My cries rip from me, guttural, feral. Phantom will die—and it’s my fault.

I NEED to know who he is, and something tells me I won’t discover much if I approach him as Phantom Reaper. I don’t really even know who I actually am, to be honest. I never indulged in friendships or relationships with others. It’s just always been survival. The only person I had any kind of positive relationship was my mother. I don’t know my father but because of my hair color, I’m fairly certain my father was Christian Bartoa. I know he frequented the slave cells whenever he was bored, and the urge arises so it doesn’t surprise me, but I don’t intend to ever claim him nor carry his surname. The thought of actually SPEAKING to Damien makes me feel a weird sense of anxiety. I’m unsure if i

"My face is none of your concern. My cock is." I shivered. Not from fear. From pure, aching hunger. "I know what you are, Alpha. The Phantom. The beast who takes his pleasure in the dark. Faceless. Anonymous. I knew you were my fated the moment I heard the tales." "The tales are true."

How can we put an end to this if we don’t stay away from each other? We were not in any kind of relationship, but when I write my diary entry that night, it feels like I’ve been jilted. I strike through the whole entry, determined not to let him mar my sexy fantasies. Just because I stopped acting on these fantasies doesn’t mean I can’t write them. This time, I’m writing from experience. When Rhys touches me in my fantasies, I feel his touch as though it were real, the scent of his skin when he embraces me so unadulterated that the lines between imagination and reality start to blur.

God must be playing jokes on me right now. “Please, call me Damon,” he softly requested, unwillingly letting my hand go. I tried not to squirm under his scorching stare and pay no attention to the uneasy feeling throbbing between my legs. Plastering a sweet smile, I steeled my spine and calm façade while my heart barreled on my chest. “Damon,” I echoed, his name effortlessly sliding off my lips. How are two distinct men able to feel so awfully alike? Or have I just gone completely insane into having wishful thinking that this man is my phantom?

He was also the future alpha after his alpha Alex. It was afternoon when we came from the run, the party arrangements were setting in. “Dreaming of finding your psychopath mate and running away” an irritating voice came from behind which I recognized immediately as my sister, Myla carnell. “ yup. Dreaming of living a life a normal being” “Psychopath”. she exclaimed and went away flipping her hair.

In retaliation, Damon grabbed my hair and tugged hard, causing unexpected tears to spring to my eyes. He slapped me again. I felt that my cheeks were already swelling, but the pain was bearable compared to the pain of disillusionment. Damon’s recent actions made me realize that the man I fell in love with no longer existed. This realization made my heart grieve in pain. I really do not know what happened to him when he disappeared. When he came back, he was not the man I knew. “B*tch!” Damon spat out in anger. He grabbed me by the hair, pulling me to stand while I flailed my arms wildly.