megstineswife

[megstineswife]

[megstineswife]

How LND should’ve ended:

MEG: Always wondered how to make you watch well watch me now!

I took a little trip to Coney Island;

I took a little trip because of you.

I did as mother said,

And followed where you lead,

And tried to do what little I could do.

But here’s the way it works on Coney Island;

They make you pay for every little crumb.

I gave what they would take;

I gave it for your sake.

Now look at me,

And see what I’ve become.

Bathing Beauty,

On the beach.

Bathing Beauty,

In her dressing room.

Bathing Beauty,

In the dark;

On their laps, in their arms, in their beds!

MADAME GIRY: My little Meg.

MEG: And who kept singing?

Desperate for your favour.

Who kept dancing?

Hoping you would save her.

Who kept dying?

And this is all you gave her!

*MEG grabs GUSTAVE, moving him*

ALL: No!

*MEG pushes him towards the others.*

MEG: Now that I’ve got your attention at last,

*MEG produces a gun and points it at ERIK before at her own head.*

MEG: Here’s the big finish and then you can go!

MAMDAME GIRY: No, Meg! Don’t!

*CHRISTINE slowly approaches MEG, cautiously keeping her distance and holding her hand out for the gun as she edges closer to her.*

CHRISTINE: Give me the gun Meg. Give me all the pain and the hurt and the gun, Chérie. Everything is okay, Darling, please give me the gun.

MEG: Why should I? You left me Christine. You stopped sending me letters and told me never to write again! What reasons do I have?!

CHRISTINE: I sent you letters every month my Darling, we can discuss this later with your mother. Please give me the gun Meg.

*GUSTAVE comes forward behind his mother but still in view of MEG*

GUSTAVE: Please, Maman. I love you, stay with us please! We can play games and be together as a family! I need you, Maman, and Mother needs you too!

MEG: Gustave… Christine… Together at last…

*MEG slowly lowers the gun, CHRISTINE quickly goes to her and takes the gun from her hand, throwing it into the water. She quickly hugs MEG and holds her tightly*

CHRISTINE: There we go, it’s okay Ma Chérie. You’re okay, you’re safe

*GUSTAVE runs up to them and joins the hug*

GUSTAVE: I love you Maman! We can finally be together!

MEG: *looking at CHRISTINE* Promise me?

CHRISTINE: I promise.

*They kiss*

*THE END*

[megstineswife]

"Father, why does Mister Y call you Babygirl?"

"Let's talk about something else, Gustave."

[megstineswife]

And another 🥰

Characters: Meg, Erik (Offstage), Christine, Madame Giry (Offstage)

*MEG is wandering the halls before rehearsals, looking for CHRISTINE as she goes. An envelope drops in front of her, she picks it up and reads the note inside of it.*

ERIC: *Offstage* Miss Daaé will be making a late appearance to today’s rehearsal, she is occupied with the Angel of Music. Do not make any attempt to see her before she returns. -OG

*MEG goes to the ballet dormitories to search for CHRISTINE before going to her dressing room, the only other place she could be. CHRISTINE is not there.*

MEG: *Opening the door to CHRISTINE’s dressing room.* Christie? Ma chérie? Are you in here?

*MEG approaches the mirror, knowing exactly where it leads. She considers going through it to find CHRISTINE, she hears her mother’s reprimands in her ears.*

MADAME GIRY: *Offstage* Meg Giry you will never go near that place. I am your mother, you do as I say! You disappoint me daughter. *These are from MEG’s memory so should be said differently every sentence.*

*MEG turns her back to the mirror and starts to walk towards the door, she reaches for the handle before being stopped in her tracks by ERIC’s voice which is loud but soft and enticing.*

ERIC: Wandering child so lost so helpless, yearning for her mother’s guidance.

Maybe mother isn’t so cold and loveless, find out or stay in her silence.

MEG: What do you know of mother’s feelings? How can you be for certain?

Why should I take your word for granted? She’s different behind the curtain.

*MEG starts to tear up, ERIK uses the obviously sensitive topic to draw her in. His voice becomes more hypnotic than before.*

ERIC: Dearest child why do you lie to me? We both know you’re telling a lie.

Come over, just through the mirror. Come now no need to cry.

*MEG slowly approaches the mirror, ERIK’s power over her mind is strong. The mirror opens at the same pace as MEG is walking. Her mind is clear as all she can focus on is ERIK’s voice leading her to the mirror. The door opens, CHRISTINE comes into the dressing room, she can hear ERIK and sees MEG about to go through the mirror.*

CHRISTINE: Chéri! No!

*CHRISTINE grabs MEG by her hand and pulls her into her body. The mirror slams shut and ERIK’s voice disappears. MEG snaps out of her trance.*

MEG: Christie!

*MEG hugs CHRISTINE and breaks down. CHRISTINE kisses her on the forehead*

CHRISTINE: It’s okay Chéri, you’re safe. Whatever he said to you isn’t true okay? I love you, you’re safe.

*End.*

[megstineswife]

Another scipt ❤️

Characters: Christine, Meg, Madame Giry

*After ballet rehearsals, MEG and CHRISTINE go down the stairs to light Christine’s father’s candle. CHRISTINE lights the candle and stares at the flame with a blank expression. MEG notices.*

MEG: Christie?

CHRISTINE: *turning her head to look at MEG* Hm? Yes Meg?

MEG: Are you alright?

CHRISTINE: *looking back at the candle* Of course I am.

*MEG puts her hand on CHRISTINE’s cheek and guides her gaze onto her.*

MEG: Christine. I know you and I can tell when something’s wrong. What’s going on in your head?

CHRISTINE: It’s nothing, Meg. I’m okay.

MEG: Christine Daaé, you cannot lie to me. One, because you’re a horrible liar and two, because I know when you’re upset. So stop pretending you’re okay and talk to me.

*CHRISTINE hesitates for a moment and takes a deep breath, finally making eye contact with MEG.*

CHRISTINE: I’m just… Confused about something. It’s not anything serious I promise.

MEG: What are you confused about?

CHRISTINE: *her eyes flicker to MEG’s lips then back to her eyes* I don’t know how to explain it.

MEG: *noticing CHRISTINE’s change in gaze* Then maybe… *she tucks a strand of CHRISTINE’s hair behind her ear* I can help.

*MEG leans closer to CHRISTINE their lips inches apart. Footsteps are heard coming down the stairs. MEG instantly moves away from CHRISTINE as MADAME GIRY comes into the room.*

MADAME GIRY: Girls what are you- *she notices the panic on both of the girls’ faces and smirks, a rare sight. Her smirk quickly disappears* Meg you should be upstairs practicing.

MEG: But-

MADAME GIRY: No buts. Go.

*MEG mutters a few words under her breath and goes back up the stairs to rehearse. MADAME GIRY turns to CHRISTINE.*

MADAME GIRY: Once you are finished here Miss Daaé you may join my daughter in rehearsal or if you wish I will turn a blind eye and allow you both to miss today’s rehearsal. Understand?

CHRISTINE: Yes Madame.

MADAME GIRY: Good. I hope I didn’t interrupt anything… As you were Miss Daaé.

*MADAME GIRY leaves. End*

[megstineswife]

Evolution of interest in Meg Giry

First time watching: she’s essentially an expositional character, not really sure why she’s so popular. 95% of what she says is “he’s here, the phantom of the opera!”

Next few months: she actually is an important part of rounding off christine a bit as a character, establishing that she has a life outside of the love interests and her father

Later: god their friendship is really growing on me they’re so goddamn sweet, take my 5000 headcanons pls and bury me with a good rendition of angel of music and meg’s heroic frickin descent to the final lair

Now: Crying. christine and meg are such frickin girlfriends. They would die for eachother and I would die for them. Barely any phan work out there to soothe my soul tho why tf is that

[megstineswife]

Me: *wants megstine content*

Me: *realizes I have to produce megstine content and not just sit around grumbling about the lack of it*

Me:

[megstineswife]

poto meg is a lesbian but lnd meg is like super ultra lesbian these are facts

[megstineswife]

meg giry is the most relatable character in poto. anytime anything slightly spooky happens and everyone is mildly scared, she screams, "he's here! the phantom of the opera!" inciting instantaneous mass panic and chaos. anxiety disorder girl personified i love you so.......

also she has a MASSIVE crush on christine, and she's so real for that. who isn't a little bit in love with christine?

[megstineswife]

Just a small script i wrote :3

*The scene starts with MEG and CHRISTINE walking down the dimly lit spiral staircase.*

CHRISTINE: I hate coming down here.

MEG: *Taking CHRISTINE’S hand* I know you do Mon Ange, but Erik and Raoul aren’t as lucky as us, so you need to do this for them.

CHRISTINE: Why can’t Raoul come down here without having to “save me”? Why can’t he just come down here when he wants?

MEG: You know why, Christie. People will notice if he goes missing for a few hours, whereas if he comes down here to “save you” it makes it seem less suspicious. Please just do this and it’ll be over soon, do it for me?

CHRISTINE: Fine… But only because it’s for you.

MEG: I know you enjoy your gossip sessions with Erik, you can’t lie to me Mon Ange.

*CHRISTINE gives MEG a gentle kiss once they reach the bottom of the staircase*

MEG: Do you want me to walk the rest of it with you? Or do you want me to leave you here?

CHRISTINE: I’ll be okay, I always meet Erik at the boat anyways, for some reason he doesn’t trust me to do it by myself for some reason.

MEG: That’s because you almost crashed it when he did leave you alone to do it yourself so that makes me feel better about leaving you here.

CHRISTINE: Are you ever going to let that go?

MEG: Never.

CHRISTINE: It was one time Meg.

MEG: Your point is? Stop stalling Ange, the quicker you get down there, the quicker it’ll be over and the quicker you can come back to me.

CHRISTINE: Okay, okay I’m going now. I love you.

MEG: I love you too. I’ll see you in a little bit.

*MEG leaves and CHRISTINE goes to meet ERIK at the dock. CHRISTINE finally reaches the dock where ERIK is stood waiting for her.*

CHRISTINE: *A bit out of breath* I swear that walk gets longer every time I do it.

ERIK: Well, it’s not going to get any shorter anytime soon.

*ERIK gestures to the boat for CHRISTINE to get in. Scene jumps to MEG coming out of the mirror, RAOUL is already sat in the room, he looks up at MEG*

MEG: Christines just gone down, give them a minute before you go down.

*MEG goes to walk out but RAOUL grabs her by the arm.*

RAOUL: Thank you Meg, seriously.

MEG: Don’t thank me, thank Christine. She’s the one going down there for you. Just… Don’t take too long, as much as she enjoys her and Erik’s gossip sessions, she doesn’t like it down there. Get her back to me as soon as you can.

*Switch back to ERIK and CHRISTINE. The boat ride is mostly silent. They arrive at ERIK’s lair and get out of the boat; they start the usual routine and sit at the only table in the entire place. ERIK gets two cups and fills them with tea and takes a sip.*

ERIK: Spill.

CHRISTINE: You’ll never guess what Carlotta has done now.

ERIK: Oh my God what is it now?

CHRISTINE: So, you know how she definitely cannot sing at all?

ERIK: Yes, of course, who doesn’t?

CHRISTINE: Well, she is trying to convince everyone that the only reason I can cover her parts is because I’ve “Seduced the managers into doing what I want” like girl I like women why would I bother seducing a man for my benefit if it mean a man is attracted to me?

ERIK: It’s Carlotta, what do you expect? I’m surprised Madame Giry hasn’t talked or knock any sense into that insolent girl yet.

CHRISTINE: She’s waiting for the right moment, plus if she does then Carlotta definitely won’t come back ever again.

ERIK: That would be a good thing.

CHRISTINE: True but-

*CHRISTINE gets cut off by the sound of splashing, RAOUL comes in soaking wet from swimming through the water.*

RAOUL: I’m here! I’m here! You could’ve left the boat for me!

ERIK: It’s funny when you swim here, makes you look like a dog

CHRISTINE: *She groans at the fact her gossip session was cut short.* In record time as well isn’t it? *She rolls her eyes* I’ll go sit in the boat.

*End*

[megstineswife]

sometimes a family is a rising opera star, her ballerina gf, their protective af maternal figure, and her golden retriever of a childhood best friend/beard

[megstineswife]

thinking about megstine........

[megstineswife]

christine: meg, raoul is in trouble!

meg: alright... struggling to give a fuck, if i'm honest.

[megstineswife]

Hey

meg giry is gay for christine

look at how she looks at her

so genuine

she jealous of the phantom stealing her potential girl

and worried bc wth she's singing to "an angel of music", thin air basically and really, it's the phantom, you know, the "ghost" who murdered countless people in the opera house they work in.

[megstineswife]

this is great writing (not mine!)

megstine prompt from my lovely friend lee who wanted dressing room pussy eating and well,,,,,, their wish is my command.

--

"Christine, your hands are cold."

Meg's voice is soft and trembling as she takes Christine's hands in her own. Holds them against her heart where Christine imagines she can feel the brag of her heart against the skin. It's steadying. There are moments, recently, where Christine wonders if she's going mad. If this is the doom of all women--to be condemned to living life on a knife's edge, perched between brilliance and shunted off to Bedlam. When she's on stage, Christine is flying; when she sings in the sewers to a voice in the darkness, she cannot tell the difference between living and dying.

Dear Meg, Christine thinks, dear Meg with the sweet smile and warm voice. Meg, who Christine could watch dance for hours and never once find fault in the turn out of her knee or droop of an elbow.

Taking her by the elbow, Meg guides Christine into her vanity seat. The vanity itself is laden with tinctures and bobbles--rouges for the lips and cheeks, castor oil for her eyelids; pins and combs for her hair. After Meg unlaces her pointe shoes and sets them aside, she kneels before Christine and removes her shoes. Gentle, guiding hands slipping under her dress and rolling down her stockings one by one. So tender an act done by one so cherished, Christine cannot help but cast her gaze away. Silence fills the space between them like the the gentle waves of a bay, save only for the metronomic ticking of the clock that once was Christine's father's.

"Fair Christine," Meg murmurs, tucking a curl behind her ear. Christine's eyes flutter shut. Her hands itch to reach out and hold the dip of waist beneath Meg's bodice, to press her mouth to Meg's collarbone. It's a longing Christine is familiar with, perhaps since the day she first met Meg and watched her pirouette in stunned admiration. "Won't you help me out of my dress?"

After she nods, Meg smiles once more and turns, moving her pile of curls over her shoulder. Christine unlaces her bodice with ease, knowing its pathway like her own palm. The dress drops to the floor in a puddle of flounce and gossamer fabric, and before Christine can think, Meg is undoing her combinations and taking her stockings down with them. It reveals miles of warm skin, dotted here and there with a mole or two. A shiver races down Christine's spine, pools low in her belly. A kindling flame that smolders before catching.

When Meg faces her again, all greater speech dies in her throat. For there is nothing more beautiful in all of Paris--nay, all of France--more beautiful than the slope of her breasts and the roundness of her belly and the corded muscle of her legs. She feels heat gather in her cheeks, twin to the pink staining Meg's own face if Christine's warm, brown skin was pale like Meg. Cream of the crop, Meg is, Christine thinks. She wants to drink her down at once.

Feeling distinctly overdressed, Christine takes hold of Meg's hips and pulls her close. Places her mouth to her breastbone and traces a soft line up and down her side. Closes her eyes, so all she has to do is focus on Meg rather than herself.

"Won't your mother be in need of you? Practice isn't over for another hour yet," Christine says against her body.

Meg hums, reaching behind to lock the door. "I begged ill to her, but she has a nose like a bloodhound for falsehoods. We ought to make this quick, no matter how I'd like to take my time with you," Meg says, a squirm to her hips when Christine's mouth moves to her breast, kissing it and licking her nipple.

Meg urges her back, and Christine looks at her dazedly. With a smirk, Meg hikes up Christine's costume and straddles her bare leg.

"No drawers, Christine?" she teases, and God, her cunt is already so wet where it presses against her. "Were you expecting me?"

Meg begins grinding against her in hitching little circles, her clit catching on Christine's hipbone. Christine catches her hips and guides her. "If you can still speak, dear one, than we ought to move things along," Christine says. Meg always makes her feel braver than she is. Brave enough to voice any desire she'd been told all girlhood that she was wrong to feel, that should be locked away and kept hidden.

Christine presses her face into the crook of Meg's neck, inhaling deeply the sweetness of her perfume, the heady musk of dried down sweat. Meg wraps her arms around Christine's neck, giving her access to the downy hair of her underarms where the scent is so much stronger. Christine pulls her close, places a hand on the small of Meg's back, and murmurs soft encouragement in her ear as Meg lets out quick, high whimpers.

"Take your pleasure, love," she says, "I'll always give you what you need. Always, dear Meg." The slick on her leg shines in the gaslight of the dressing room, and Meg pants open-mouthed into her throat. While they're both careful to never leave visible marks, it does not make their passion any less all-consuming. There is fire simmering beneath Christine's skin, like she's pushing out of limbs.

Whenever Meg comes, it is earthshaking. She is Galatea come to life: her face gown slack with pleasure, all thought gone from her mind, hair in disarray, and red-flushed down to her navel. Christine can feel the rhythmic clutch of her cunt--the flex, flex, flex of it as she comes and spills over Christine's leg, nails digging into the wings of Christine's shoulders.

As Meg comes down, Christine strokes the long line of her spine, while Meg pants into her shoulder, holding her close. Meg kisses the hinge of her jaw, trails her nose down her jawline, captures Christine in something less of a kiss and entirely untamed and soul-rending. After a while, Christine feels her own body respond to Meg, feels the seat of her dress damp, and spares a fretting thought about whether it'll be visible or not.

Before she can say anything, though, Meg slides to the floor, spreads Christine's legs apart, and insinuates herself there as if she belongs there. And in a way, perhaps she does. With a wicked smirk, Meg yanks Christine forward until she is perched on the edge of the chair, her cunt bared to Meg.

Meg begins with feathersoft kisses to Christine's sensitive inner thighs, delaying the inevitable. Bites tiny, purpling marks and licks them soothingly in apology. Cruelly delighting in Christine's torment. One of Meg's thumbs pets through the pile of curls at the apex of Christine's thighs, slips down to her clit and rubs it in gentle, up and down strokes. Slips it around the edges of her cunt before returning to its home. The first time Meg did so, Christine had nearly sobbed, and she does so again now, covering her mouth to muffle her whimpers. Then, then, Meg puts her clever mouth to Christine's cunt and licks a long stripe up her cunt, circles around her thumb, and dives back down to her hole.

Christine's so wet, she's dripping, smearing across Meg's face and down her chin. Her body jerks up into each swipe of Meg's tongue, completely involuntary, and she trembles with effort to keep upright. With a flourishing swirl around her clit, Meg laps inside her, flickering the tip of her tongue over and over where Christine is aching. Where Meg grasps at her to hold her still, Christine's muscles spill over, and distantly, she wishes Meg would leave her marked with her fingerprints in five equal bruises.

"Meg--" Christine moans, "I can't-- oh--"

Meg looks up at her through heavy-lids, dark-eyed and devouring. She wraps her pretty lips around Christine's clit and sucks, and Christine is gone. She spills with a gush of liquid that makes her glad Meg rid herself of all useless things like clothes. She comes and it quakes up her leaving her head muzzy and pleasantly hazy.

Meg wipes her mouth like a man at a feast, looking altogether too pleased with herself. Unbecoming of a lady but everything Christine craves from her. It is a side of Meg that she lets no one else but Christine see when they lay together like this.

"My hands certainly aren't cold any longer," Christine croaks. Meg dissolves into giggles, and Christine follows, hoping that perhaps the lightness of Meg's laughter will keep the darkness away for a little while longer.

[megstineswife]

This is so real

Dear Veronica Sawyer and Christine Daaé,

Dump your murderous, black clad significant others and go out with the blonde girl who is secretly depressed.