#HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY DEARLY BELOVED!!!

[slightlymad]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JAMES HETFIELD! — august 3, 1963

[dinaur]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JONGHO !!

↳ choi jongho (october 12th, 2000): main vocalist, maknae

#GoldenVoiceJonghoDay <3

[hiikohakiss]

yukoha for the masses :) on a date :)

happy 2wink day !! from a 2winkP who very obviously favors one twin over the other.

[ilyhaitanii]

oh my god he’s beautiful 😭💔

[tomago]

for better and for worse (y. makoto)

MKT + a little happy birthday gift :3 ( 392 words , gn reader )

note(s) ; im silly im silly im silly im silly im silly im silly im silly im silly im silly im silly im silly im silly im silly im si

how does makoto love? — another part of to love and to cherish ...

how does makoto love? as if wishing on a dandelion, with spring so incredibly familiar—his kisses are light, his love he sends out when you part your lips; heaven knows your name, as he whispers his prayers each night; all the angels know of your exquisite lines, crafted delicately as they melt into the night—he's in awe, as makoto loves all that he can touch.

how does makoto love? makoto’s love lies within the details; his gaze lingering often to whichever love takes him—letting himself be lured, captured and helpless, unable to seize his heart that wouldn’t stop speaking of you. softer than a bird’s feathers are the kisses he never sends; plaguing himself with the kind of yearning you might only find in a fairytale—with his teeth clenched, he keeps searching for proof. why does your smile intoxicate him as much as alcohol?

how does makoto love? makoto loves exactly as his craft demands him to—passionately and tentatively, as if learning a new language; understanding every detail, intaking as much as he can—he loves hard. he loves like an exchange; a two-way street. the fluttering sighs of love from you are returned with his ceaseless affection. he's incessantly thinking of you, every conversation a tryst between what's after 'like'.

how does makoto love? as if you were a quaint phrase; your name resting on his lips felt incredibly familiar—incredibly right. and he wants nothing more than to sing it over and over, until you'll close the proximity of your lips and his. your feathery voice stings him in a way that leaves him at man's very core: desire. it leaves him reaching out to you—it clings on to him like the remainder of memory, like a wound that won't heal.

how does makoto love? intimately, as if sharing a kiss that is scattered over hundreds of years; each moment, however wordless, the stars stitch themselves in his hands to offer themselves to you. he wonders if your every exchange held more than its intended value when you look at him so sweetly. he savours this feeling, your eyes that gaze at him casts a spell that makes his heart race.

“hey,” makoto says, but he meant 'love'.

“hey.” you reply, but you meant 'darling'.

the love that spoke for itself was already present, he just didn't know it yet.

[tarotphil]

bertie calling dodie his very best friend and best person in the world…. stop it I’ll cry

[mayonakano-archive]

What's your favourite enstars solo??

stares directly at you. i cannot choose.

top 5 are Secret Gravity (Natsume); Bluebird Humming (Tsumugi); Kohaku to Ruri no Rondo (Mika); Birthday of Music! (Leo); and JEWEL STONE (Arashi)!!!

[daughterovmary]

[llondonfog]

as promised for coming home on my only 10-pull key, a little birthday drabble for our beloved peepaw :) pls enjoy & happy new year to all!

". . . Cookies?"

He makes no effort to disguise the insulted disbelief as he stares down at the plate of misshapen treats, eyebrows flying so far into his hairline that they nearly disappear.

"He may be but a child, and a human at that, but surely he ought to understand the gravity of your former position, the glories in which you are entitled to—"

"Former, and disgraced if I might add," Lilia corrects him, a lopsided grin tugging on his face as he too gazes at the plate of cookies with a ludicrously pleased expression. "And Silver is all of seven, Baul. A seven year old child who worked rather hard today at staying awake to surprise me with something delicious, so I'd be most grateful if you could manage to tame that famous Zigvolt boom as I'd hate for him to wake up from his nap."

It's worse than Baul could have ever expected.

Lilia Vanrouge, the fearless and fearsome once general of the fae armies, the former right hand to their dearly departed princess, turned sentimental over a plate of lumpy, and frankly burnt on the edges, cookies.

He'd come over to further discuss the matter of his grandson training with his former commander, staunchly ignorant of his own sentimentality towards the halfling child who so closely resembled him in both pride and spirit, only to find the fae sitting alone at the kitchen table with an odd and unfamiliar expression vulnerable upon his face and cradling a cookie as carefully within his talons as if it were spun from glass. Baul had nearly leapt to arms, convinced that there had been some sort of spell or potion from those who still wished ill upon Lilia cast to tempt him into eating such bizarre looking food— even though it looked clumsily made, there was simply no way he would have been fooled into believing it had been the product of Lilia's disastrous attempts. It simply wasn't foul enough— when Lilia had startled back into awareness, only to laugh at him and proclaim to Baul's utter bewilderment that these...cookies, were in fact his birthday gift from the human child residing within his home.

To which Baul promptly informed Lilia that he had taken leave of his senses and he'd never once shared that he knew of his birthday before. If he had, there'd have been no chance of the entire country forgetting it for the wondrous celebration Meleanor and Levan would have certainly thrown in the honor of their dearest friend.

"You're right," Lilia had said, smiling that strange little half-smile as he broke his gaze away from the plate to the quiet hallway leading from the kitchen. "But then again, I had nothing about myself to celebrate until very recently."

And there, the crux of the matter, the elephant in the room that Baul never truly questioned out of loyalty to the fae that had given more than anyone ever could to the sake of their country, to the Draconias alone. The human child, the boy that had shown up suddenly and stolen Lilia away to the forest, bewitched him somehow into playing house. Baul cannot understand it— Lilia had more reason than any of them to loathe humanity, to shun it for the remainder of his life and seek to live in peace away from their kind after their unforgivable transgressions.

Instead, in front of his astounded eyes, he can only watch in silence as a tear splashes down upon the chocolate speckled surface of the cookie before it's hastily crammed into Lilia's mouth, the fae spinning around to grin at him as if in blissful ignorance of the redness gathering at the corners of his eyes.

"They're a bit salty, Baul, but I've never tasted anything better!"

Oh, he thinks, heart shaking in place as he too glances towards where a certain slumbering boy lies. Oh, you old fool. Do you even know how deep you've gone?

[oceanreveuse]

‘ 𝓁𝒶𝓀𝑒𝓈𝒾𝒹𝑒 𝓀𝒾𝓈𝓈 — isagi yoichi x f!reader ’

★ sfw, reader wears a sundress, petnames (princess? baby) , maybe ooc isagi, reader + isagi meet during blue lock but this is set post-blue lock, quality time w isagi, a lil suggestive at the end, not proofread!

★ message in the foam : happy birthday to my dearly beloved little sis @reonaissance !! welcome to the big scary world eeek !! i hope i did isagi justice at least a liiiiiiittleeee... i fought my demons to finish this (´；ω；`)

from the moment you met him, you figured he'd have the mindset to spoil you. it was blatantly obvious from the look in his eyes whenever he'd spotted you across the cafeteria, mindlessly blanking out his friends' words as they spoke to him. if it was anything to go by, it was almost as if his entire world disappeared the second you were in his vicinity - or his line of sight. it was pretty simple why; you were quickly becoming his world.

your birthday perhaps rolls around too quick for your own liking but for isagi, it's the best time of year. a chance to truly treat you like a princess where no one will bat an eyelid, he was beginning to grow a little tired of bachira and kunigami's teasing when you was the topic of conversation between the trio - he wouldn't complain usually, he loves to go on about you. in fact, they can almost predict when he's about to start another lovesick babble.

in between training, matches and flying you across the globe with him, isagi tries to keep everything as domestic as possible. he loves you, smitten and knitted together like your fingers on this late summer evening. the skies are pinks, oranges, hues of purple fading in like a watercolour painting. it's been a conversation before, muttered between cotton sheets and a warm breeze through the open window - you found it difficult sometimes to keep travelling with him, to stick at his side wherever he goes. you support him, yes you always will but you knew soon you needed to stay home, to cheer him on through a screen until he returned home.

"you're thinking again, baby," his familiar voice is soothing, eases the irritating repetitive thoughts that nag on your bones like a dog. you turn your attention to those deep blue eyes and a smile caresses your face, squeezing his hand in reassurance, "relax, will you? it's your birthday."

"i know it is," you roll your eyes with a playful huff, amused with his constant reminder that today is your special day. it would feel like a normal day otherwise, if your boyfriend wasn't so insistent. he gives a puppy-like grin in response, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

"i have to make sure you know, we can't have you forgetting, y'know?" isagi hums, his blue eyes reflecting the sunset like a body of water - specifically like the lake stood before you, the mirror reflection of the sky disrupted by the ripples.

the breeze blows against your bare legs once again, ruffling the skirt of your sundress and isagi hums in response, eyes flickering down to watch the fabric momentarily. after a few seconds, he lets go of your hand to shuffle behind you, toned arms wrapping around your waist and pulling your back flush to his chest. his body is warm, a personal heater compared the hug of chilling air around the pair of you.

a calloused thumb brushes up and down on your hip, his chin situated on your shoulder as a silence settles between you, comforting when you just lean into his touch, his presence. taking a walk so far from home you got both away from the suffocating air that came with being a footballer and in light of that, the partner of a footballer. not a soul in sight other than a few ducks settled on the water, no loud clicks of press cameras and reporters eager to get a word in with isagi - just the two of you and your breathing.

"happy birthday, princess..." his voice trails off, a delicate kiss pressed to your neck moments after and you hum in response, placing a hand over his. your thumb strokes against the skin of his hand. a small smile decorates your face however isagi is quick to move his hand away, much to your dismay. it trails a path down your waist, the curve of your hip before settling comfortably on your thigh.

isagi's fingers slip under the hem of your sundress, a playful chuckle rumbling against your back as you give him a knowing look over your shoulder, almost a warning, "c'mon, i think i have another present to give you back at the hotel."

© oceanreveuse 2024 | reblogs appreciated | do not repost, steal, translate, etc. on any social media platform & do not feed to ai.

★ the waves call for . . . @qichun @tetsuskei

[ her lady is affiliated with @houseofsolisoccasum ]

[sonofthesaiyans]

Happy Birthday Hange.....A Scout to the end and a true friend..... ⚔️ 💚 ⚔️

A salute to our birthday girl, the ultimate Scout and a gal who embodies the Wings of Freedom more than any other.....

Our beloved Hange Zoë. ❤️ 🎂 🥂

Sometimes I need a moment to remember just how much I love and appreciate Hange, who has been a unrelenting force in AOT and stands as one of the most noble gals you could ever hope to have by your side. Of all the people to sign on to the Scout Regiment, perhaps nobody believed in the cause as strongly as Hange did. In my book, if Sasha stands as the true heart of Attack on Titan, then Hange has earned her right to share that pedestal with her, for she is truly the heart and soul of the entire Regiment, and even with the entire world stacked against her she has never given up on herself or her people. Even in humanity's darkest hour, Hange was one of the few who refused to break.....For she truly believed there was a future worth fighting for in the unworthy world she was born in to. And there were few more deserving of a brighter future than her.

It's truly a bittersweet occasion. For her birthday should have been entirely hers, untainted by the saga that had come to do such a disservice to her in the final act. Instead, her birthday marks the day that the last good thing in Attack on Titan was stolen from us by Hajime Isayama.

Four years ago today......By this point the story had gone completely astray and nothing seemed to be held sacred anymore by Isayama, and thus we lost the last true guiding light in the story........One that not even the likes of Levi or Armin......And certainly not Mikasa.......could ever hope to compensate for. Indeed, even one chapter or episode without Hange pushing forward with us was a self-inflicted wound from which Attack on Titan never recovered.

And we all know Hange deserves so much more than that. The world and Hajime Isayama himself are completely unworthy of Hange Zoë....But Hange Zoë deserves the world and so much more.

Hange is so many things: Eccentric, unpredictable, extraordinarily energetic.......It seemed like nothing could stop this gal. She may have been a handful to those who knew her best......But she was also insightful, considerate, and uncommonly kind and humble. Hange could care less about fame or glory, her passion was knowledge, of both the Titans and the world beyond the Walls, and if not for her Paradis may have known no other world beyond Wall Maria......And the only thing greater than her pursuit of knowledge was her love and loyalty to those she served with.

We know so little about Hange's past or even her family......The Scout Regiment in effect was her family. And she went through so much to give them some chance to live, often without thanks and so often without the desired outcome. But Hange always valued the lives of her people, and in the end, she DESERVED SO MUCH BETTER....than what she got from those who betrayed her efforts. Who betrayed the meaning of what she thought for. None more so than from Isayama himself.......Hange was a true hero through and through, and the story should have honored that. ISAYAMA SHOULD HAVE HONORED THAT.......

Hange wasn't just the friend Levi Ackerman just could not get away from despite all their headbutting, she wasn't just Erwin's righthand woman and torch-bearer, she wasn't just a soldier.....Hange was a true friend to all of us. I think we all loved her dearly as one of our own.

So give your hearts to Hange, one of AOT's greatest, and the one who still richly deserves the future she fought so hard for. For she dedicated her heart and soul for the future of humanity.

Her courage, her determination, her humor, her love.....those are Hange's gifts. Hange is a gift to us all.....I only hope one day our birthday girl is repaid in full for everything she deserves. ❤️

Happy Birthday, Commander Hange. Your spirit stays with us, and you deserve so much better. Isayama certainly doesn't deserve someone so special as you.

There is no Attack on Titan without Hange Zoë.

[jinhogae]

HWANG IN-YEOP as NA IL-DEUNG THE SOUND OF MAGIC / 안나라수마나라 (2022)

happy birthday to my dearly beloved @choidoil! ♡

[kairismess]

"you deserve the world."

(akaashi keiji birthday fic~) 🎂

[the banners were inspired by @cafekitsune !! made these ones through canva, so they kinda look crappy ^^'' but do go check out their resources if you're interested !!]

akaashi agreed to help you out with your homework, not like he had anything better to do, he said when you asked him if he really was okay with doing it for you. he insisted that you never have to worry so much about your grades, he'd always help you with no strings attached–just ask him for help, and he'd do it, he doesn't need anything in return, let alone a reason why he should help you.

akaashi loved you dearly, it filled his heart with a fuzzy warmth inside every time he'd see your bright smile or watch you fidget in embarrassment from all his help. he didn't want to be dead weight, he didn't want to be idle when you're out here struggling–and that was the tough part about akaashi, it wasn't like he lived his life or did the things he did solely for himself, he always does everything for someone else, in one way or another.

luckily, today, you'd be able to give thanks to akaashi for all the help he's given you, but not just through words. you wanted to repay him for his actions through actions, through the little gift you've prepared for him the night before. when you two got to your room where he'd be teaching you the lessons you were struggling with, you struggled at the moment with keeping a straight face, knowing he was going to get the surprise of his life in a few hours.

"what's so funny?" he asked you in a whisper as he looked up from his glasses. the combination of the boy of your dreams being all smart and sweet by tutoring you, in the sweater you gifted him the previous year, and trying to get your attention in such a gentle manner did something to you–and you leaned over and kissed his lips, with the surprise in your hands behind your back.

the kiss came as a shock to akaashi, because he never expected his shy little lover who was always too meek to compliment him without seeming all-too flustered or to ask him for help with anything without stammering to be so straightforward and kiss him, not that he was complaining.

his cheeks began to darken and his eyes widened, he tried to compose himself, until you spoke, and entranced him into listening to every word that escaped your lovely lips. "...i wanna thank you for everything you've done for me, keiji, and... i wanna let you know how much i love you, how you're the other half i could never believe is mine. i love you, keiji, and... happy birthday, my beloved." you mumbled out, trying to sound confident, but sounding very cute and flustered instead.

you shakily handed him his gift and tried looking him in the eye, only for you to get more embarrassed at the sight of akaashi staring into your eyes, a blush across his cheeks and his lips parting to say something. he wraps his hand around yours and kisses your cheek and earlobe. "you don't have to thank me, dearest... you know i'll never say no to you." he whispered in your ear, kissing your earlobe once more to reiterate his point, feeling your ear and cheeks heat up at the contact.

you hastily leaned against him and tried to shift the attention from you back to his gift. when akaashi unwrapped it, his eyes shone with gratitude; his lips curved into a smile and he chuckled a little at how beautiful your gift was for him. they were a pair of couple bracelets, a charm on each one that perfectly fit the other, forming the shape of a heart. akaashi heard your silent voice asking him if he liked it, and he leaned over, kissing you sweetly.

"...they're perfect, i love them. thank you, my love." he tells you with a happy, content grin. you helped akaashi put his bracelet on, and he helped you with yours; when you two snapped the magnetic charms on together, akaashi smiled a little wider. "just how we should be, together." he mutters as he turns his gaze from the heart shaped charm your bracelets made together to your bashful and beautiful face.

with all thoughts of tutoring and homework gone, akaashi just wanted to cuddle up with you, take you out with him somewhere to celebrate his birthday–because until you came, he never truly felt whole, never felt that bothered to celebrate his birthday, until today, when you've given him a reason to look forward to everyday with a shine in his eyes.

thank you for making his existence feel whole, he can never express just how much he loves you, but even so, he's glad you love him all the same.

[toomuchracket]

masterlist

in chronological order within their au

the birthday party series (matty x reader)

all i want for christmas - fluffy, pre-dating, part of christmas75 2023

the birthday party - fluffy

the birthday (after)party - fluffy, smutty

pregnancy scare [blurb] - fluffy

queen of hearts - fluffy, part of valentine's week 2024

bday girl [drabble fic] - fluffy, suggested smut, part of The Birthday Party Project

costumes - smutty (quite!), fluffy, part of promptober75 2023

it's only been a year - fluffy

all those dreams where you're my wife - fluffy

scary movies - fluffy, suggested smut, part of promptober75 2023

you would cook, i'd do the nappies - smutty, fluffy

melted ice - smutty, fluffy, established family, part of summer75 2024

hot chocolate - fluffy, one mention of smut, established family, part of promptober75 2023

halloween - fluffy, established family, part of promptober75 2023

instagram au

flatmate!matty x reader

lore blurb: condom-gate (smut, fluff)

falling for you - fluffy, a teensy bit angsty, pre-relationship and pre-flatmates part of promptober75 2023

i'll do anything that you wanna - fluffy, pre-relationship

and this is how it starts - smutty, fluffy, in-relationship (day 1 of being together!!)

bonfires - fluffy, mentions of smut, in-relationship, part of promptober75 2023

promises to keep - fluffy, in relationship, part of valentine's week 2024

bday boy [drabble fic] - fluffy, suggested smut, in-relationship, part of The Birthday Party Project

snowed in - fluffy, suggested smut, part of christmas75 2023

dad!matty x reader (continuation of flatmate!universe, but can be read separately)

i'd rather jump in your bones - smutty, fluffy, parents-to-be

when i found you, much younger than you are now [drabble fic] - fluffy, includes a flatmate!matty section, ten years of self-titled focus

autumn mornings - smutty, fluffy, part of promptober75 2023

birthday surprise - fluffy, part of matty35/the birthday party project 2024

d word [daddy] matty x reader

lore blurb: introduction of d word (smut, fluff, weed lol)

meet cute - fluffy, pre-relationship, part of promptober75 2023

birthday wish - fluffy, pre-relationship, part of matty35/the birthday party project 2024

keep dreaming - smutty, solo matty, pre-relationship

home for christmas - fluffy, pre-relationship, part of christmas75 2023

candlelight - smutty (extremely it's their first time fucking), established relationship, part of promptober75 2023

i've been dying to meet you [drabble fic] - fluffy, established relationship

stupid cupid - fluffy, mentions of smut, established relationship, part of valentine's week 2024

drunk in love - smutty, fluffy

gone four weeks [drabble fic] / part 2 / part 3 - angsty, non-canon

totally wrecked - smutty (like honestly filthy), established relationship

on the bed in my room - smutty (filthy. the filthiest thing on here, actually), slightly fluffy, established relationship

you're the only thing that's going on in my mind - smutty (so smutty), mean dom matty, established relationship, pregnant reader

in front of a mirror - fluffy, established relationship, established family, part of promptober75 2023

politician matty x reader

and america likes me - smutty (quite!), established relationship

fourth of july - smutty (VERY), established relationship, part of summer75 2024

office nerd matty x reader

the if you're too shy series - part 1 (fluffy), part 2 (fluffy), part 3 (smutty, fluffy)

i'm in love with you [drabble fic] - fluffy

birthday sleepover - smutty, fluffy, part of matty35/the birthday party project 2024

matty x reader

sneaking out - smutty, slightly angsty, fwb reunion, part of promptober75 2023

dad!ross x reader

happiness - fluffy

black cat - fluffy, part of promptober75 2023

secret admirer - fluffy, part of valentine's week 2024

ross x shy gf!reader

elope with me - fluffy, part of promptober75 2023

dearly beloved - fluffy, part of valentine's week 2024

ross x girlband gf!reader

sweet touches - fluffy, ever so slightly angsty, part of promptober75 2023

my whole life, waiting for you / part 2 - angsty, fluffy

lovers' quarrel - angsty, fluffy ending, part of valentine's week 2024

instagram au

sweetheart!george x reader (high school sweethearts au)

stress relief - fluffy, in-relationship, part of promptober75 2023

love potion - fluffy, suggested smut, part of valentine's week 2024

late night talking - smutty (no actual fucking, but suggestive), part of summer75 2024

dj!george x reader

dancing like she way out - smutty

[bewarethewolfarmy]

Music To Bring Us Together

(This one was on my mind for a while (yes a certain fic of mine has a twin of sorts to this...) sooo yeah it just took a while to write it actually up.

If anyone wants a steamy followup to this particular chapter then say so and maybe i'll gather my spoons Oh and I've decided to call this kind of series The Phantom and his Songbird so enjoy:

A Celebration for Two

Things Better Left Unshared )

If asked separately both Erik's and your answer to what your favorite time of the week was, it would be the same: it was when you had the chance to get away from everything at the opera and had time to go spend the night with the lonely ghost that lived below the operahouse. He lived for those times, unable to stand the fact that he still could not simply always be with his beloved, to hold and shower you in affection and attention constantly, but he had even in small bits learned his lesson from before and he would not dare do anything that could even possibly make him lose you. He would wait, impatiently, and watch and admire you from afar despite wanting to do so far more personally, and when the time came he'd appear and whisk you away and the smile you'd wear on your face would send his heart a flutter to think that there really was someone who enjoyed his company and didn't fear his face. Could he truly believe it? Of course not, he still expected some trick, some lie or deceit of how this was not real, could not be real, and that you truly did fear and hate him for all he was, had done and could be. The gentleness of your tone and kiss to try and reassure him calmed the voices within for a time but never enough; he needed you by his side always and how you wished you could be but you did love the Opera Populaire for what it was and could be, almost as much as you loved it's resident Phantom.

Today was one such day; a break in rehearsals and you slipped away to that small side room, knowing that any second the secret passage would open and Erik would appear. You could always go down yourself, how many times had you walked it to the being able to do so in your sleep if necessary, but you knew how much the man loved to be able to whisk you away and who were you to ruin that for him? The Phantom, still spoken of in terrified whispers and hunted by those who knew and remembered, had so few joys as far as you could tell, things that truly could bring him happiness and peace in his admittedly lonely existence; to take this one away was far too cruel to you and thus you would not. Part of you wished instead that you could do more.

You had only been waiting for a fraction of time when there came the familiar sound of the hidden doorway opening and familiar touch upon your hand. Some days he grabbed you so fast and hard you could practically taste his desperation and need for closeness but this was not one of those days. His touch was light, almost hesitant, and you knew exactly what to do: you smiled and moved your hand to entwine your fingers in his, your tone soft and happy as you spoke, “Erik.”

“Songbird,” he responded and you were pulled close into a tight hug; you were surrounded by the scent of roses and old paper, ivory and water and wood.

And yarn; you could feel a familiar scarf against your face and could not help but smile brighter. Since you'd given it to him for your shared birthday he become stuck between wanting to constantly wear it and treating it like some precious treasure bestowed upon him by a god. Which you supposed made some sense considering his feelings about you. You of course were happiest seeing him wear it, able to see him enjoying your little present and know you had done well in making it for him. It added a little color to his darkness, a light for the man sometimes lost to the shadows but a man who nevertheless you loved dearly.

“Shall we go down to the lair now?” As much as you loved being in his arms, and you truly did, the secrecy of his hideaway under the operahouse gave you both the space and ability to do more than this small room ever could.

The fact you would ask brought a shiver of delight to him and a smile to those ruined lips of his. It was like a puppy being offered a walk in the park by it's master, an apt enough comparison considering how he reacted to you. Luckily you liked that in him, the excitement he seemed to get from the acceptance you gave and the lack of fear you had for him.

He moved with the swiftness and ease of exactly what he was and the two of you were soon off, practically gliding over steps to go down, down, down deep below, into catacombs, into an abyss lit only by candlelight, past traps that were sent not to harm you but to prevent any from following, to an all too familiar lake. You settled into your seat upon the boat and watched him, unable to resist a smile at how he looked as he rowed you both across.

Once, near the beginning of this love you had found yourself in, you had offered to help only to see the strangest look of shock to cross his face. He had refused so verehemently you at first had been hurt before it had come out that rather he couldn't imagine making you do such a thing, that it was in his mind only right he do so for you and that you need only relax. The fact you had been hurt by his refusal even for a second had left him devestated in such a way that required quite a bit of cuddling and hair stroking and reassurance. It was one of those things you found both funny and adorable about Erik: he, the Phantom, terror of the Opera Populaire, murderer and genius, could be so full of confidence and self-importance yet so easily fall to the deeps of despair and terror with the simplicity of love. The complexity of his character was fascinating and endearing, making you unable to tear your eyes away at times when the layers started to show.

The trip across was like that, full of you watching him, adoring his figure as again he looked more the imposing Phantom than the lovesick puppy, though every time he caught you staring with your adoring gaze, his face turned red behind his mask and you only continued to smile knowing it. His eyes would widen, it was hard to miss as someone who so often looked at him, watched him. He brought you to shore without a word though you were sure his mind had a thousand and one things he wished to say to you, sing to you, beg of you.

Erik stepped out first and like the gentleman he really was he offered his hand to help you step out of the boat. This too was something you could do on your own, as easily remembered as every other step of this trip, and again it was something you would never try to take from your phantom. You placed your hand in his and saw him smile so brightly and happily; you stepped off the boat and into his arms once more. Any chance he had he seemed to take in hugging you, holding you, as if afraid that if he didn't keep doing it you might prove to be an illusion, a dream he conjured up from nothing to replace the dark and painful memories of his love for Christine Daae. You of course were indeed real and warm and loved him even knowing what had happened, what he had done. Because behind the rumors and stories and fears, you had found a man who was desperate for love yet never knew how quite to get it or give it healthily.

After he seemed convinced for the moment that you did care and would be going nowhere, Erik led you into the house proper and you sat in the sitting room, watching as he went back to being the adorable Erik that you knew and adored. His fluttering around, muttering about how best to please you, what he would do for you, what kind of food he should make, what kind of music he should play. Part of you was half tempted to tell him to just sit down with you so you could cuddle for a while; he always seemed to like that as did you, though if it went on for too long he would start to cry and weep about how he was not worthy of such softness, of how he was a monster and you were a sweet songbird, that he was something even his own mother could not love so how could you? You did not mind reassuring him of course, it was normal enough for you both at this point and being able to give your sweet traumatized Erik some love and reassurance was something you were happy to be able to do. But tonight, tonight you wished for something different.

You smiled as he made another pass across your path and you spoke up, making sure to be heard, “Erik, I do have a request.”

This immediately stopped him in his tracks and he turned to you, wide eyed, before falling to his knees before you. Requests from you were rather rare; you did not often ask much of him, because he always had hundreds of ideas and plans, because you knew he liked having some control in his life and this was an easy one, because you did not like to impose or possibly trouble him. But he jumped at any request you did make and fumbled to take your hands in his, staring right into your soul it seemed.

“Your Erik is listening, anything my songbird wants, I will give you; just ask and it will be done.” He didn't slip entirely into third person which was a good thing in your book; his emotions sometimes got so overwhelming he couldn't help it and you didn't mind but you didn't want to overwhelm him today.

You squeezed his hands with another smile. “I wish for you to teach me to play something”

He seemed taken aback, blinking a few times and staring at you in confusion. But of course, you were a songbird, a singer, and that was all you truly really ever asked to be; you liked to be part of the choir, to let the music fill your lungs and fill the air. You'd never before expressed an interest in learning more than that but you had listened to him play so many instruments, he loved to show off to you like a peacock shows off it's feathers to a potential mate, and you found yourself curious to try. No, you were more curious to be able to try to play alongside him one day; you may never reach the level of a natural talent like his but you wanted to at least try.

“You...you wish to learn an instrument?” He asked his words slow and measured.

You nodded and he let go of you so quick you felt you might get whiplash. Especially as he quickly ran from the room like his cloak was on fire. The speed with which he moved, grabbing case after case from another room and placing them all on the coffee table before you was honestly both a bit shocking and very amusing. You had a pile of them soon enough, of slightly different sizes and shapes, but you recognized them all as instrument cases; you tried not to giggle or laugh as he continued this until you had so many to choose from it was a bit silly. And finally he stood still, breathing hard and looking at you expectedly, practically bouncing on his heels with excitement and energy.

“Which would you like, songbird? Your Erik can you teach any instrument, Erik is very good at all of them, Erik is a master of them and Erik would love to be able to teach you, just please tell Erik which you want please please please?” Oh no now he was completely into third person.

You stood up and gently took his face in his hands, careful not to upset his mask since it would help him ground a bit better. “Breathe, my angel, please. I already know which instrument I want to play but if you're going to teach me then I need you to breathe and not panic so, alright?”

He whimpered, a good whimper, maybe too good of one; he shuffled on his feet and closed his eyes at your touch before nodding. You would take it and smiled before kissing him lightly upon the lips. It was hard to resist such a good boy.

“Which...which one does...do you want Er...me to teach you?” he asked, trying his hardest to pull himself together, you could see it; he bit his lip and looked at you with such expectation and love it made your heart flutter. How could one man be so precious and so adorable and so dangerous all at once?

You smiled again and pulled away from him, the whine he gave was not a happy one but he did not hold you back; you leaned down to the table and gently pulled from it one case in particular, opening it to reveal a beautifully crafted violin. His eyes widened at your choice and you did not need to ask to know why; you had heard all the stories, all the legends. Knew that Christine Daae's father was a known violinist, that Erik had once used that knowledge and that violin to try to entrance her in the graveyard after the disasters before. And thus there was a shadow that clung to it, so much so that while you knew he had it, you had never heard him play it; you supposed it held too much of a memory of his failures, of his darker side, that he had been too afraid.

You were not though. Gently, reverently, you removed the instrument from it's casing and took up the bow with one hand. It felt cold in your hands and heavier than you expected but you refused to back down now from your choice. You turned your gaze back to him, still smiling, still hopeful as you spoke, “I wish you to teach me this one, Erik.”

“I...” he seemed to be in some shock but at least he stayed in first person; he opened his mouth only to shut it again, emotions running across his face at incredible speeds.

He cleared his throat, tried to collect himself, and attempted to speak again, “Are you sure? There are better ones I can teach you.”

You both knew that was a lie. Few were as beautiful as a violin when played right; only the piano and organ were more precious and close to his soul as that violin. But memories were a terrible thing and there were things Erik still never did that you suspected were from that terrible, terrible experience.

You were resilent though and stubborn, shaking your head. “I really wish to learn the violin, please Erik? I couldn't imagine learning from anyone else, for who else could possibly be as good as you are at playing it. And I have heard such beautiful things when a violin and piano play together by those whose skill are no doubt less than your own and so surely with your instruction...” You were not playing fair with him. He could be fluttery and excitable and oh so absolutely adorable and lovable with you but you knew there was a pride there and a part of him that did wish so terribly to be able to teach you. And here you were, tantalizing him on both regards, drawing on those parts of him in hopes of getting what you wanted. You could see in his expression the fight between doing so, allowing his pride to win out or his fear.

“But,” he said in a voice no louder than a whisper, a fearful small thing and you were reminded how sensitive your phantom truly could be.

It hurt you and you lowered the instrument, approaching him. “Oh Erik, sweet angel, I truly wish to learn but I don't wish to cause you actual distress, I promise.”

He looked up at you and your eyes met; you smiled gently at him, lovingly, and he bit a ruined lip. You wanted this, you truly did and you wanted it to be the violin but if it really was so hard on him to teach you, if pushing it would only hurt him more, you supposed you would need to let it be. Because it wasn't worth harming the man you loved so much.

Finally a sigh left him and he shook his head. “No, my wonderful songbird, I...I will teach you. Your Erik will do anything my songbird wishes of me.”

A smile formed on his face and you felt your heart swell with how cute it made him. Any expression of happiness was always a good one to you and you nodded, kissing his cheek. “Thank you, mon ange.”

Erik's heart fluttered at the kiss and his smile grew before he cleared his throat again. “Now let's see about your stance.”

You did not expect so much touching yet one he took a deep breath to compose himself his hands moved along your body, adjusting it, moving your arm, your head, the instrument so that it was cradled just right, that your fingers were in the right positions. Your skin heated up as he placed his hands on your waist and commanded, not asked, you to play. “A few notes, just to start.”

You did as instructed and only got in a few before he clicked his tongue and stopped you, readjusting you slightly. “No no no, relax, let the music fill you like when you sing. But instead you make the violin sing for you; caress it, feel it, the bow is an extension of your body, not simply a tool. Now again.”

Again you tried and felt his hands on you. They were warm, even through your dress, and your heart pounded hearing his breathing in your ear. You knew you were far from perfect, this being your first time, but it was better than you expected, because he had made sure of it. But it was strange to you; learning was something you had asked for, wanted, and you knew he could be passionate about teaching, something you always had been able to gently dissauage in him when it came to your singing. But perhaps the closeness, the actual physical contact, made this feel all the different, and you couldn't help but think as well how warm his breath was and strong his grip and how you wished to obey that smooth, alluring, commanding voice. So different than your Erik, your sweet and often self conscious angel, your excitable and loveable man, who slipped into third person at the smallest embarrassment or flustering, who smiled so geniunely and clung and loved with such intensity but not like this. His intensity was normally of desperation and love; this was passion of a different nature and it made heat build up within your heart like a fire you were not sure you wished to have extinguished. It felt both wonderous and a bit strange.

He nodded behind you, making pleased noises that only made it worse inside you. “Good good, much better. Though you still are far too tense.”

He placed a hand over yours holding the bow and closed his eyes. “You know how it feels to become one with the music, I know you do, songbird, just translate that to this.”

You certainly tried. You tried to take a deep breath, to forget he was there, that he was touching you, that he was so close. To focus on the notes, the violin, the music; get a feel for each note, what it was like, what it felt like, which was which and how they sounded together and in sequence. But Erik was a horrible distraction and you could not focus with his hands on you.

“Erik,” you muttered and this seemed to be to no avail; perhaps he was too far into his own mind, the Angel of Music he once was creeping out and overtaking.

“Focus, my songbird.” His voice was so exact, how could you possibly disobey?

“Erik,” you repeated and felt your heart ready to pound out of your chest.

“Give into the music.” His grip tightened both over your hand and at your side and you had to work very hard not to shake and play incorrectly. Even with all this you did not want to do that.

He was not listening and you were not sure you could take much more of this. But you being the smart songbird you were, knew of one thing that your angel could never resist no matter what happened, a thing that was guaranteed to break him of anything and return him to his sweet blubbering self.

It took all of your strength to pull it off, gripped as you were by his strong callused hands, but you managed by some miracle to turn enough to press your lips to his. Erik's eyes widened behind his mask and you knew that his whole face was turning red, could feel his hands lighten their grip, his body start to stiffen as it often did when you kissed him only to relax again. And move to grab your arms and pull you ever closer; Erik was a master of music but he was a slave to your love and desperate as always for every bit of it he could get. To be kissed by you was something he seemed always to want more and normally you delighted in giving it to him, everything you could. All the love you could muster for this sweet broken man. But the fire inside you was still burning and the aching that grew from the way he had spoken, the power of the Angel of Music, and there was plenty of desperation of your own as you leaned into the kiss, into him, only to have to break away for the all too human need of air. You both panted and you could see how blown out his pupils seemed to be as he looked at you.

“Songbird,” he said in a low voice.

“No fair,” you muttered in response and bit your lip, “All too unfair.” How did this man, this phantom in the dark, have such power yet seem so delicate and sensitive so much of the time? You did not know the answer to it but you knew it was unfair, that such a beautiful soul had to feel and be trapped by the past, by insecurities, by others.

“What is unfair?” he asked and there was still an edge, a trace of the angel within the man.

“Everything,” you stated and looked back at him, into those eyes that roiled with such emotion and thought, at your Erik, “But especially that you only seem able to have confidence in yourself and your place in the world when it comes to music.”

That seemed to fluster him but you took the opportunity to kiss him again, no little light thing as the flame inside continued to burn. If not for the violin and bow in your hands you would have grabbed hold of him but you did not dare drop the precious instrument, for him and for yourself, thus you could only lean into him and want more while getting only that. You heard him whine behind the kiss but Erik did not resist it and that grip he had on you loosened only so he could wrap his arms around you. How he delighted in holding you, it burned you more because here was his soft side showing again and you felt a tear hit your face. Not your own, his; the kiss broke again and he was looking at you with that sad expression he would get when things started to overwhelm the man, filling him up and demanding to be let out.

“Songbird,” he repeated with the essence of the whine woven in.

“We will have to continue the lesson later.” When you can explain better, when you can tell him gently how much it made your heart race to feel his touch, your skin burn to feel his breath against your neck, your body yearn because of the power of the Angel's voice and the love for the man. But right now you could not, need was too strong and he nodded all too quickly, sidetracked so easily by you.

He let you go long enough for you to be able to put the violin and bow safely away and close the case but not a second longer. His arms wrapped around you again, pulling you close and picked you up, burying his face in your neck. “Your Erik wishes to be loved by you, please.”

“I wish to be loved by you as well, mon ange,” you whispered to him.

That's all you needed to say. The instruments and music were left behind as he carried you off to his room, to make music with you of a different type.

[mossy-rat]

bug like an angel

happy birthday my most dearly beloved

time from thumbnails - finish: 47hr 21min

click for better quality | close ups under cut

a few close ups of some panels I thought the wider shots didn't do justice!