روايات وقصص ضمن Phantom Of The Opera Fanfiction

The weight of realness. Mira roared. And the sync shattered. She awoke screaming in the chamber. Carl caught her again, arms tight around her. Ophelia pulled the oxygen mask off her face. Tobias yelled something she couldn’t hear. But in the distance—down in the system logs—a final message blinked into existence. From the Phantom. “This isn’t over. You left me. I will return.”

I say. The laughter that follows feels like champagne itself, effervescent, fizzy, indulgent. When it dies down, Operah sighs, mock-dramatic. “Ladies, I once left a man because he said my ambition was intimidating.” “Good for you,” Kimberly says, raising her glass. “He’d have probably asked you to shrink yourself to fit his insecurities.” “Oh, he did,” Operah replies. “And I told him I don’t date optical illusions.”

His shoulders rose slightly as if the sound affected him deeply, as if my voice touched him. When the last note faded, he exhaled—a soft, almost sensual release of breath. “She is mine.” The words hit me like a physical blow. Madame Elladine bowed deeply. “My Lord Morcant—” Lord Morcant. The patron. The masked phantom of The Blood Opera. The man whose name was spoken in fearful admiration throughout London’s underworld. He raised a hand, silencing her. His gaze pinned me in place. “Miss Wynn,” he murmured, his voice smooth as velvet over steel, “Welcome to my opera.”

And I had a feeling my dagger was not an almighty weapon. They had not noticed me. Yet. The brown-haired girl finally screamed in pain, a satisfied groan from the guy who still had his neck bent to her wrist. Her other wrist that was on him dropped lifeless to her side. She– she was dead. Immediately, he dropped her to the ground. Not harshly, but not quite caring where she fell, as long as she was off him. Seeing her face, my blood went cold. It was Ophillia from ward three who had joined in the truth and dare game. And then, he looked up. Red glowing eyes I recalled were once silver met mine.

“The short version, I’m the bastard who should have never been born. Levi’s father hated me. Levi also envied that our mother showered me with attention. She created this damn academy for me so I could grow my musical talents. She was a well renowned opera singer. Christine Demaine was her name, and then she fell for my father but could never accept him. When her childhood love, Randal Dane, came back into her life, she married him. He was the man that she could be in public with. Not to mention he was wealthy. They had Levi, who was Randal’s pride and joy, just as I was my father’s pride and joy. Our fathers loved their sons, but our mother could never fully love her sons. I was her embrace

The glissando was missed, but neither Bo nor Oscar cared. Oscar had faltered ever so slightly when his boyfriend began to sing, the power behind each of his notes was something he had almost not expected. ‘Almost’ being the important word, Oscar wasn’t sure of anything to expect from the taller man. Everything that he had assumed was quickly thrown out the window, instead taking to learn every piece of information he could about the man in the time that he took to release it. His boyfriend continued to sing, putting a sort of passion into the words that made Oscar smile brightly.

However, Anastacia’s eyes still filled with tears as she cupped his right cheek in her hand and he pressed his face more to her hand until he gave her palm a kiss. “I’m neither a wolf nor a human, and I can’t afford losing you,” she said quietly as another tear fell from her eyes as he wiped it with his thumb. The two of them stood face to face as Anastacia’s emotion became clearer to Fredo with every tear that she failed to conceal. Fredo was indeed terrified of her beast, but he was willing to try. He was willing to test the fate of his beloved for the sake of creating a new one where he and her can be one. Sleeping together without actually being mated or married is not enough anymore. Sh