Phantom Of The Opera Fanfiction Novels & Stories

Vanilla got up from her seat, she stepped into the backyard followed by Nick, she stopped by the pool. "Why are you here?" Vanilla repeated her question because Nick had not answered her question earlier. Nick grabbed Vanilla's palm and landed a peck on her fingertips. "I missed my future lover." Vanilla's face blushing, her heart felt like it was about to jump out of her chest cavity at Nick's words. "But, I haven't said yes yet," she sighed. "I'm afraid I'm sure you will." Nick stroked Vanilla's fingers with the tip of his thumb.

More tears slipped from her eyes uncontrollably as her heart ached even more. Damon scrolled through parchment after parchment, a plan he had thought of to forget she was on his bed, near his grasp. He dropped the parchment as his wolf became restless, and then he began hearing her cries. “Oh, fuck! Shit!” Damon cursed in total frustration. He held one of the parchments and set it on fire with his eyes, the paper turning to nothing but ash in the space of seconds.

For a long moment, I simply stood there. Then something inside me quietly broke. I wiped my face with the back of my hand. "Fine." My voice came out calm. "If that's what you truly want..." I slowly raised my right hand to my chest. Amare emerged beside me in my mind, her silver eyes filled with grief crashing through me like a tidal wave. I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I, Ophelia Starkingstein..." My voice echoed across the rooftop. "...reject you, Morris Carpenter, as my fated mate."

Now I was beyond confused. ''Then who does this belong t-.....'' ''Its mine....'' A voice boomed from behind. It was the all familiar Damian. Who else? ''It's yours? So you were the one who kis-....'' ''Shhh!....Too much details little one. Why do you look so surprised?...'' ''Urr....cuz I thought you hated me?…” He sucked air through his gritted teeth feigning pain. ''Hate is such a strong.....strong word. I just find you annoying that's all''

What was the worst that could happen anyway? “En, continue,” He said, his voice coarse. His eyes were dark, and he was already looking angry. Olivia swallowed hard before she continued; she was a bit scared because she didn't know what she would say that could annoy him further, everything around him looked terrifying. “Another case is that you may have started developing fresh feelings of desire towards them; or maybe there is you have OCD.” She paused, awaiting his reaction Liam was staring at her sternly, “OCD??”

"But you fell in love instead. So the Queen took your memories, took your power, made you believe you were just an assassin following orders." I stumbled backward, my head splitting with pain. "You're lying." "Am I?" Lyra's eyes turned silver. "Remember, Phantom. Remember who you are." She touched my brow, and suddenly I was drowning in memories. Sienna and I hidden in a cave. Her hands in mine. "I'll never let them take you," I promised. "We'll run away together." The Queen finding us. Her silver magic tearing into my mind. "You're mine, Phantom. You've always been mine."

They had a private box, secluded from the prying eyes of the crowd, but still very much on display. As the lights dimmed and the overture began, Damien’s hand found her thigh. His touch was a brand. He slowly slid his hand up her leg, under her dress. She wasn’t wearing underwear. His fingers found the wet heat of her pussy. “You are already so wet for me,” he whispered in her ear, his voice a low growl that was barely audible over the music. “Are you thinking about what I’m going to do to you when we get home?” He slid a finger inside her, then another. He began to move them slowly, in time with the music. It was torture. The beautiful, soaring music of the opera was a stark contrast to the

But then softly, he started to sing, and it all clicked. “No more talk of darkness. Forget these wide-eyed fears. I’m here. Nothing can harm you. My words will warm and calm you. Let me be your freedom. Let daylight dry your tears. I’m here, with you, beside you. To guard you and to guide you. Say you love me every waking moment.” He’s singing All I Ask Of You from the Phantom of the Opera.

“I’ve been expecting you.” “No more games,” Damian said, stepping forward, every muscle coiled for action. “Show yourself. Now.” With a slow, deliberate motion, the figure reached up and removed the mask. The face beneath was not Alessandro, nor any known lieutenant—they had expected a ghost, a familiar betrayal, a past enemy. Instead, it was someone entirely new, someone who had orchestrated the chaos from behind the scenes, pulling strings that had led to mistrust, misdirection, and death. “I am the one you never saw coming,” the Phantom said, eyes cold, calculating. “Every move, every strike, every deception… it has been my work.”

I smiled and gestured to the poster. “Incubi has an opera house, and there was a Phantom of the Opera performance. Mama was cast as Christine.” I explained. “And your dad was Raoul?” Henrik arched his brow. “Oh, hell no. Papa was the Phantom.” I chuckled, shaking my head. “People still talk about how there was never another performance where the chemistry between Christine and the Phantom was so strong the audience booed every romantic scene between Christine and Raoul.” “So, both your parents are opera singers?” Gunnar arched his brow.