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japhan2024 · 10 months

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@phandomgiftexchange for @samrubygf and beta'd by @philsbignaturals

Note: I have not made this a very disturbing fic but I did mention one in the story. I hope you enjoy!!!

Chapter 1: The Unspoken

Dan finally returns to the sanctuary of his and Phil's house.

The grandeur of his world comedy tour had come to a close, leaving Dan yearning for the companionship of that dearest person in his life to be next to him again. The two had recently embarked on a sojourn to the enchanting land of Japan, seeking solace and adventure amidst cherry blossoms and ancient traditions. But now they were back and the four walls stared Dan square in the face, he felt an old burden he could not shed. Beneath the surface of his and Phil's deep bond lay an unspoken desire, a forbidden fruit they had vowed never to taste again.

In the last couple of years, both of them had publicly declared their inclination towards the same gender. Dan had even confessed, amidst a whirlwind of courage, that his and Phil's connection - at the very beginning - had surpassed the realm of friendship. He didn't want to share any more than that and "people should really mind their own business", as he'd said to Phil. But it was more than just other people. Dan himself had not been quite ready to face his true feelings for Phil, always burying or running from them. And long, long ago, they had made a pact, a sacred oath in the depths of their hearts, to suppress any romantic aspirations, striving to maintain the purity of their bond and avoid the torment of potential strife.

Lost in thought, Dan found himself sitting cross-legged on the couch, his gaze fixed upon a gaudy golden pig statue that Phil cherished, though Dan hated it with a passion. The pig's eyes glimmered with an unsettling intensity, as if harboring secrets of its own.

"Phil, MATE," Dan only called Phil 'mate' when complaining, "what in the HELL possessed you to get this idiotically golden pig?"

Phil, his unique soundless laughter resonating silently as if orchestrated by a mischievous specter, stuck out his tongue sideways, adding an extra layer of absurdity to his amusement. He reveled in Dan's vexation, knowing full well the effect it had on his irascible friend.

"Get it away from me! It looks like it's plotting something," Dan only half-joked. Phil eventually obliged and took it into his bedroom.

Within the depths of Dan's black soul, he battled a tempest of emotions. Phil's radiant allure, which seemed to magnify with each passing day, violently stirred the feelings he'd always carried with him. How could he, a mere formless blob in comparison, deem himself worthy of such a perfect being? The anguish gnawed at Dan's heart, a relentless torment only exacerbated by his own self-perceived inadequacy. As Dan observed Phil's laughter, a pang of longing washed over him. Oh, how he yearned to hold Phil close, to feel the warmth of their connection transcend the boundaries they had carefully erected. But the pact, that dreaded agreement, cast its shadow over their path, weaving a tapestry of unfulfilled desires and bittersweet moments. Dan composed himself and masked his inner turmoil behind a facade of joviality, awaiting the twists and turns fate had in store. Little did he know that their resolve would soon be tested, for drama, like an unwelcome guest, had a knack for making its presence known, whether invited or not.

As the days turned into nights, and the nights into days, Dan found himself caught in a labyrinth of introspection. Each passing moment brought forth a kaleidoscope of emotions—admiration, adoration, and an undeniable ache that echoed deep within his soul. He so wished to express the depths of his affection, to break free from the chains of this self-imposed limitation. But fear, that insidious specter, whispered in Dan's ear, reminding him of the potential consequences. Would their friendship be forever marred by the fires of passion left unquenched? The question tormented him, the answer elusive.

Meanwhile, Phil, with his radiant crooked smile and sparkling blue-green eyes, remained unaware of the storm brewing within his best friend. Oblivious to the turmoil that swirled beneath the surface, he continued to be the anchor in Dan's stormy sea. His infectious laughter, like a buoy in treacherous waters, brought solace to Dan's troubled heart. But the torment of unfulfilled desires grew unbearable. Dan could not hide behind the mask of friendship for much longer. The unspoken longing in his heart demanded acknowledgement, the ache yearning to be eased.

Chapter 2: An Old Friend

In the depths of Phil's being, an adoration for Dan blossomed like a delicate flower, its petals unfurling in the garden of his heart. He marveled at the very sight of Dan, finding him to be such an ethereal presence illuminating his world. And yet, Phil understood the need to give Dan space - to explore his own identity and confront the demons of self-hate that still haunted him.

A few years Dan's senior, he wanted to allow Dan the freedom to navigate the world as an openly gay man. Yet, despite his best efforts, the flowery images of him and Dan standing at the altar of matrimony persisted, etching themselves into the deepest recesses of his mind. He longed not only to be proud of their shared truth, but also to proudly call Dan his husband.

In those early days, when hormones raged and passions surged, he and Dan were propelled into a brief and fiery romantic phase. But as the reality of their lives as YouTubers settled upon their shoulders, and they saw how well the two of them worked together in every aspect of their lives, they had made the difficult decision to shift their love to the realm of friendship. Only then they could trust that they would stay together forever... Nevertheless, their bond transcended labels and defied societal expectations - but had it truly been the best choice?

Amidst their playful banter about the damn golden pig, the pressing matters of the outside world momentarily faded away. The doorbell chimed, announcing the arrival of the pizza they had ordered, and the question of who would accept the delivery once again fell into their laps. With a grin that revealed a mischievous spark, Dan claimed victory, and Phil willingly acquiesced. It was in these small moments, mundane yet profound, that their bond solidified. Settled on the couch, engrossed in a show they had chosen to watch together, Phil's attention was not fully devoted to the screen. Instead, his gaze was irresistably drawn to the unruly mess of Dan's brown curls, a testament to his uniqueness and charm. In that simple sight, Phil found a source of comfort and wonder, a reminder of the immense love he held for his best friend.

Their tranquility was interrupted again by the persistent buzz of Phil's phone: a message from Cat, his long cherished friend. Dan made a silly sound and Phil responded in kind, as they often communicated in a language all their own, an intricate tapestry of noises and gestures and references only they knew, as they reacted to the news of Cat's apparent arrival in London. Tomorrow, a meeting with Cat awaited, a reunion that promised new adventures - they had to actually go outside for a start. Phil couldn't help but wonder what lay beyond the horizon. Would their friendship evolve once more? Could their connection withstand the weight of his unspoken desires, of the dreams that threatened to consume him? In the quiet hours of the night, as he drifted off to sleep, a yearning echoed in Phil's heart. The ache, too profound to be ignored, whispered of a future where his and Dan's love could bloom in all its resplendent glory. It was a feeling that he could not suppress much longer, a flame that burned brighter with each passing day.

As the dawn painted London's skyline with hues of gold and pink, it carried with it the promise of adventure. Dan and Phil prepared themselves for the long-awaited meeting with Cat, their spirits buzzing with anticipation. The prospect of reconnecting with an old friend intertwined with a subtle undercurrent of uncertainty, not knowing what secrets this reunion might hold. Their voices intertwined in a song of laughter and quality banter as they debated who would choose the perfect outfit for the day's rendezvous. Phil's gaze fell onto Dan, capturing the essence of his being in a single glance. The messy brown curls that Dan so self-consciously brushed aside were, in Phil's eyes, a crown of unruly majesty, an outward reflection of the beauty that resided within.

As they tepidly stepped out into the bustling streets of London, Phil couldn't help but wonder if this meeting held the power to reshape their lives once again. Would their old friend unknowingly become a catalyst, a messenger of fate delivering truths that lingered in the shadows? The thought both excited and terrified him. Amidst the vibrant chaos of tourist buses, cars and pedestrians, they navigated their way to the meeting spot, their steps echoing the cadence of their shared heartbeat. And there, beneath the sprawling branches of an ancient oak tree, stood Catrific, the familiar face graced with a knowing smile. Her presence, a bridge between their past and present, held the potential to shape their future. As they embraced, the years melted away, leaving behind a sense of belonging and familiarity. Conversations flowed effortlessly, punctuated by laughter and shared memories. The passage of time had not diminished the bond they once shared, and in the presence of this cherished friend, Phil felt the tendrils of possibility entwining with his hopes.

"So, oh my god, guys, remember when we first met? It feels like a lifetime ago!"

Dan felt like he had to affirm her friendliness the most. After all, her and Phil had been friends before he had come into the picture. "Oh, absolutely! Back when Phil couldn't shut up about Buffy. Good times."

Cat laughed in a slightly high pitch. "Yeah, that show... Anyway, I have to confess something. Back then, I kind of had a crush on you, Dan."

This shocked Dan. "Oh?! Really? That's incredible."

"Yeah, I know, it's so embarrassing now. I mean, you guys were in that... phase, and I had no clue. I was such a fool."

Phil chimed in. "Well, I can't blame you, Cat. He definitely has that effect on people."

Dan actually blushed. "Phil! Shut up!" Why had Phil said that? So confidently and with that low, sensual tone... Did Cat and all the memories of that time bring out Phil's old feelings for Dan?

Cat continued "no, but really, seeing you both together now, it's amazing. You guys have such an incredible connection, and I'm genuinely happy for you."

Phil smiled and Dan could not stop staring (as usual) at his incredibly distractingly beautiful friend. "Thank you, Cat. We're lucky to have you as a friend.

Dan quickly recomposed himself. "Yeah, we really are. And hey, it's all in the past now. We've come a long way since then, haven't we?"

Cat tipped her black sunglasses. "Definitely. And I'm grateful to be a part of your journey, even if my own crush was a bit misguided. I just want you both to be happy."

Phil put his hand on Cat's shoulder. "We are, Cat. We really are."

"And hey, if it makes you feel any better, I've had my fair share of awkward crushes too. We're all in this together," Dan said.

Cat smiled. She truly was a beautiful woman with her olive skin, dark brown eyes, and shiny dark hair. "I guess we're all a bit clumsy in matters of the heart. But hey, at least we can laugh about it now."

Dan laughed with her. "Absolutely! And there's no doubt that we'll continue to make painfully cringe memories to laugh at later on."

Phil, his pale skin only slightly protected by the shade of the oak tree, said, "speaking of crushes - you know I was always raving about Buffy? Turns out, it was just a thing for bad boy vampires all along."

Cat laughed. "Really, Phil? I never knew!"

The three reminisced some more about their past. The day wore on, carrying them through the city's winding streets, and as the sun dipped below the high London buildings, Phil's heart pulsed with a newfound clarity. The weight of unspoken truths pressed against his lips, begging for release. For in the presence of Dan, the one who held his heart captive, he could no longer deny the depths of his desires.

Chapter 3: Restless Nights

The moonlight cast an ethereal glow on Dan's bedroom as he tossed and turned, unable to find solace in the embrace of sleep. Thoughts of Phil invaded his mind, the way his eyes sparkled under the open sky, their hue deepening in the natural light.

Meanwhile, Phil lay wide awake, his mind consumed by thoughts of Dan. The image of Dan standing under that oak tree played on loop in his mind - the perfect place for an outdoor wedding. His heart ached at the thought. The house was enveloped in silence, broken only by the distant ticking of a clock. Phil's stomach growled, only adding to the pangs of hunger he felt for Dan. In a drowsy haze, he stumbled out of his bedroom, making his way to the kitchen. Vision blurred, he fumbled through the cabinets, searching for a box of cereal. Finally, his hand landed on a familiar shape, and he grabbed it, unaware that it was Dan's cereal. Pouring the flakes into a bowl, Phil was startled by a piercing scream that shattered the tranquility of the night. He squinted in the darkness, struggling to make out the figure before him.

"Thief!" Dan's accusatory voice rang out, his own cereal now gone.

Phil's eyes widened as he recognized the voice. "Dan? Where are you?" he asked, trying to peer through the darkness.

Dan's voice dripped with mock indignation. "Caught red-handed, Phil! Finally, my evidence against the notorious cereal fiend!"

Phil rubbed his eyes, frustration mixed with amusement. "D'you have to scream in the middle of the night, Dan? You've probably woken up the entire neighborhood."

Dan snorted, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Consider it payback for all the times you've stolen my cereal."

Their laughter echoed through the quiet house, dispelling the restlessness that had plagued them. In that moment, they had found solace in each other's company, even amidst the absurdity of their late-night encounter.

Chapter 4: The ... Fic

The night lingered on as they sat side by side at the kitchen counter, the glow of their phones casting a soft light on their weary faces. Suddenly, Phil's phone buzzed once again, indicating another message from Cat, while Dan's phone rang persistently, an unwelcome interruption in the stillness of the night. Dan ignored the call, letting it ring until it eventually silenced. But curiosity piqued as Phil glanced at the message, only to be bombarded by a whole flurry of notifications. Puzzled, he opened the messages to find a series of frantic texts from their friends - Pj, Marzia, Louise - about a scandalous fan fiction or rather phan fiction, that had taken the internet by storm. It had become so notorious that even local news outlets were attempting to reach out to Dan and Phil, seeking their response. A sense of unease settled over them as they realized that the intimate details of their private relationship were being exploited for shock value. The invasion of their personal lives weighed heavily on their hearts, stirring up a mix of anger and frustration. The world had never ceased to find ways to pull them back into the spotlight, despite their semi-retirement from the internet. Reluctantly, they decided to read the controversial fan fiction, their curiosity getting the better of them. As they delved into the twisted narrative, they found themselves oscillating between amusement and disgust. While it certainly crossed boundaries, Dan couldn't help but admit that he had encountered worse. Ultimately, it was nothing more than a sensationalized piece, a mere blip on the radar of a slow news day.

"Phil, this whole debacle... It's really got me thinking, you know?

Phil nodded solemnly. "All these years, we've let others dictate our story. Why do we keep letting them?"

"Exactly! We've already come out to the world, and yet here we are, allowing gossip and the whims of social media to have a say in our lives. It's like we're trapped in this never-ending cycle."

Phil leaned in closer. "We shouldn't let them define us, Dan. We've built a connection that's so much deeper than what others see. Isn't it time we embrace it fully, unapologetically?"

Dan finally locked eyes with him, his heart racing. "You're right, Phil. We owe it to ourselves to live our lives on our own terms." As Phil moved even closer to him and he could feel the warmth of his body without them touching just yet, Dan smiled, a glimmer of hope in his otherwise jaded eyes. "Let the world say what it wants. We know the truth, and that's all that matters. From this moment forward, let's write our own story."

Phil slowly took Dan's hand in his. "No more compromises. We'll live authentically, and nothing will stand in our way."

As London sweltered under an unusually hot and dry morning, they found themselves in agreement. No words were exchanged, but their intentions were clear. The world may have had its opinions and expectations, but Dan and Phil were ready to forge their own path, one that embraced the truth of their love.

Chapter 5: Not that pig again

The sun bathed the room in a soft afternoon glow as they stirred awake, tangled in a mess of Phil's blankets. There was a sense of tranquility, an understanding that something had shifted.

Phil slipped out of bed and padded into the kitchen to prepare Dan's favorite coffee. As he returned, he couldn't help but stare at the slowly awakening figure he loved so deeply. Dan's tousled hair framed his face, and his peaceful expression spoke volumes. Phil's heart swelled with love as he marveled at the sight. But just as the serenity enveloped the room, something else, something insidious, reflected sunlight right onto Dan's face.

"Ugh, that pig again!" Dan groaned, his eyes squinting against the glare.

Phil chuckled silently, unfazed by the interruption. He settled down next to Dan. The warmth of the cup seeped through Dan's hands, but it was Phil's gaze that truly engulfed him. Time seemed to stand still. Phil's deep blue-green-yellow eyes, filled with unspoken affection, reached into the depths of Dan's soul. If he would drown in them then and there, he'd be perfectly happy.

"Good morning," Phil said, his warm, deep voice laced with tenderness.

"Gut morning," Dan replied in a silly voice. The wheels of fate had turned, setting in motion a journey filled with possibility. Dan and Phil's hearts beat in unison, daring to explore the depths of a love that had always been there, waiting patiently to be acknowledged once again. They reveled in their newfound freedom. And as they sat there, savoring their coffee and basking in the glow of their connection, Dan knew that this was just the beginning. Their love story, once confined to the shadows, was now ready to be written in bold, vibrant strokes.

#phan #phandomgiftexchange #phan fic

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eriksangel666 · 7 months

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Madeline and the Phantom of the Opera: An Original Story by @eriksangel666

In an old house in Paris that was covered in vines, there lived 12 little girls in 2 straight lines.

They left the house at half past 9 in rain or shine. The smallest one was Madeline.

The little girls all loved to sing. In music class, their voices would ring.

Miss Clavel wanted to reward their talent with something sweet. Then one morning, she read the paper and said: "I know just the treat!"

Just before bed, she told them, "Girls, get plenty of rest. Tomorrow we're going to the opera, and I want you looking your best."

"The opera, the opera!" cried the girls with cheer. They slept and dreamt of the wonderful music they'd hear.

The next evening, in dresses pressed and neat, they set off for the opera and walked down the street.

The opera closed since it's chandelier was not quite right, but now it was fixed and ready for re-opening night.

In two straight lines, the girls sat down with glee. But there was one problem: little Madeline could not see.

She strained to peer over a lady's bouffant hair when she looked up, saw an empty box and thought "I can see from there!"

Since tonight was special, she did not want to frighten Miss Clavel. So she tiptoed very quitely and snuck out quite well.

Upon arrival, she saw the door had no locks, and easily entered the opera box.

Madeline loved her view of the stage, but her presence filled a mysterious man with rage.

"Mademoiselle," said a voice, "this box is mine."

"I won't stay long," she said, "the opera ends at 9."

"If you don't leave, there's no telling what I'll do!"

To the grump invisible man, Madeline just said "Pooh pooh! You are invisible, how could you have a place? If you want your seat that much, show me your face!"

At once he showed himself. He was no ordinary host. Madeline realized she had met the Opera Ghost!

"Oh Monsieur!" she gasped, her face turning white. The ghost cackled at her expression because he thought it was fright.

But after a few seconds, he was no longer glad. He realized Madeline was actually sad.

The ghost asked "What are you staring at?"

"You remind me of my friend," she said "A bad, bad hat."

He frowned. "What's that?"

"My friend Pepito always acted like he was mad. But really, he was lonely and quite sad."

She asked, "Monsieur, are you lonely too?" The ghost was shocked- she actually knew!"

"Yes," the Ghost whispered to Madeline. "I have been lonely for quite some time."

"But the music makes me feel less alone. And for that, I'm glad the opera is my home."

Madeline smiled. "I would never want the music to end." She took the ghost's hand. "May I join you tonight as a friend?"

The ghost blinked and became quite shy. He did not want Madeline to see him cry.

He said, "I would love nothing more mademoiselle." He sat her in his lap and they listened to the singers excel.

Madeline asked questions about the people who could sing, and the Ghost taught her music facts that were most interesting!

They mostly talked, which made the Ghost quite glad. Maybe having one friend wasn't all that bad.

At the end, Madeline gasped, "I must get back to Miss Clavel!"

The ghost smiled "I'll bring you back, she won't be able to tell."

Other guests would have been in a daze, but Madeline loved being guided through the Opera like a maze.

The Ghost kissed her hand. "Ma petite chou, I'll bid you goodnight." And with a flicker, he vanished completely out of sight.

The beauty of the music made all the girls weep. Miss Clavel said, "Allons-y, you little girls need sleep."

Late at night, Madeline wondered if she made up the ghost in her head. But she rolled over and found a letter that fell out while changing for bed.

She opened the note and it filled her with glee. For at the bottom in cursive were the letters "O.G."

It said, "Next time you want to hear music that's sweet, join me in my box and I'll bring you a seat."

Madeline now has a friend who lives under the Opera House floor

And that's all there is. There isn't anymore.

#phantom of the opera #poto #erik #madeline #miss clavell #paris #ludwig bemelman #poto crossover #fanfic #fanfiction #phan fic #original poem #eriksangel666 #if anyone wants to draw illustrations that would make my day please and thank you

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bl00dycocainee · 10 months

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why am i obsessed with this dan and phil fanfic. it’s so good.

#phan #phan fanfic #dan and phil #wattpad #phan fic #smut #romance #danisnotonfire #amazingphil

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cozyfoxy · 8 days

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What’s your favorite bit of Phan lore!

Oooooh that’s a hard one! Phil pulling the “knight of wands” card before meeting Dan is definitely my number one! It’s just so beautiful.

#phan #phandom #amazingphil #dan and phil #phan fic #phanfiction #phan au #dip and pip #dnpg #dnp

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mysticscorpia · 10 months

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Christine Daaé/Erik | Phantom of the Opera Characters: Christine Daaé, Erik | Phantom of the Opera, Raoul de Chagny Additional Tags: A couple of children OCs, But they're not who you think they are, I like using parallels in my writing, Kind to Raoul, I made this tale up, Stories of the North?, death mention, Grief/Mourning, little bit of romance, post-musical, Post-Canon, Fix-It, AU, Set in Sweden, They have fields

Summary:

Christine finds a long lost man from her past, and listens to his tale.

BIG ANNOUNCEMENT!

I’m now offically on AO3! I’m still EnigmaWritesStuff, though!

But, here’s the FFN link too, incase that’s your prefered one!

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14248829/1/The-Bird-and-the-Whale

I credit both @birdstooth and @nipuni in my AO3 author’s notes about their inspiration for me, for this phic! Thank you guys, keep being awesome!

#enigma writes stuff #poto #poto fluff #phanfic #phan fic #christine x erik #erik x christine #Enigma writes #I MAKE A RETURN TO THE LAND OF THE LIVING #I SURVIVED ISH #poto fic #Erik #erik the phantom #raoul de chagny

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phantomnostalgist · 2 years

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Phic: The Wesley of the Opera

My magnum opus, published on my LJ in 2007 (sorry about the tiny text!) - a cross-over with Wesley Wyndam Pryce (from Buffy & Angel) as the Phantom, and Fred as Christine.

It's very silly and contains several old memes.

#phan fic #the phantom of the opera #phantom of the opera #angel the series #wesley wyndam pryce #winifred burkle #wesley x fred

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sansxfuckyou · 2 years

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Lotus eater

Summary: Danny fucks up big time after harvesting to many ambient emotions without a way to turn it off.

Warnings: Depression, anger issues, ectoplasm, character death, check tags for further warnings.

Authors Note: Always a joy to fuck up Dannys shit.

No one ever bothered to tell Danny that he would absorb emotions with his ghost half to sustain the form even when it wasn't dominating.

He never understood the grimy feeling that seemed to coat him, or the lightness of a smile.

His ghost half could handle the excess emotions he absorbed as he was a human, but, his original state couldn't.

Danny would wake up sobbing most days, nearly dying a second death as he choked on his tears in his sleep, hacking up phlegm as he tried to clear his throat.

Other times he would suddenly fall into states of hallucination or disassociation during classes, the sudden outbursts of raw energy from his classmates sizzling his receptors.

His friends never knew what was wrong with him as he changed.

They would wake up feeling happy and ready like they used to, and if they were having a bad day, they would take to Danny to make all the pain and regrets go away.

It was almost pyshical.

The ooze of dread and grief and depression and rage that was constantly was dumped on him whether he liked it or not.

In those recent times he had come to staying where no one would find him, where no one could overload him, where no one could use him anymore.

In the sewers he sat, crying and choking on his own breath as he tried to filter through all the emotions that weren't his and that were his.

But he couldn't do it alone, no, definitely not, but he would need someone who would listen to him instead of telling him all of their problems to release a fuckton of emotion onto him.

His ghost half couldn't do it very efficiently while dormant, but would destabilize with to much energy if it was dominant.

Danny couldn't do anything to help himself.

Unless, unless he pulled out that old dream catcher thing and split himself.

He had no choices left he supposed.

He would just, head back on up to Fenton Works and then work his way through his emotions then.

---

It didn't fucking work.

The second they split Danny was already sobbing and a complete wreck while Phantom was destabilizing due to still having to much energy to properly process.

And it only got worse as he couldn't shut off the roomba feature of sucking up emotions from everyone around him, and he couldn't leave either as his form was to unstable to move very much.

Danny was sobbing as Phantom destabilized, things only got worse when Danny realized how... Melty, Phantom looked while separated.

"Ancients, I'm killing you to," Danny forced out as he tried to clear away the sobs that shook his form, only only able force out a rasping laugh. "I guess I'm going it alone now."

"No, no, I'm not going to die." Phantom said before inching closer to sit beside Danny, leaving a trail of green as he body gave way at the slightest movement.

"Face it, you can't handle what you already have to use and burn through, and I keep giving off more," Danny explained, vaguely gesturing with his hands as he did so, he gently poked Phantoms shoulder, the ghost halfs shoulder giving way and leaving a hole where the human halfs finger was. "We had a good run."

"I can't die though, I'm already dead." Phantom said, trying to explain a way out of destabilizing till he becomes nothing more than a green and bubbling puddle on the ground that smells only of the freshest citrus and rotting organs.

"You'll destabilize like our 'half sister' did, the whole actively split us not knowing what would happen, and because of that you are dying again." Danny explained before standing up and pulling down a thin necked vial with a cone like lower half and a cork from above.

"Danny, why did you grab that vial?" Phantom asked cautiously as he inched away, his suit scraping off, leaving only bright green where skin would normally be, as when he had died his suit was melded to his body.

"I want to have some of you when you're gone, I can keep your core safe until I can fix you up again," Danny said before gripping Phantoms hand, each smaller appendage giving way and breaking off leaving bleeding stumps that oozed ectoplasm, with thicker chunks that acted as bone coming loose as well, Danny dropped a few into the vial, along with excess ectoplasm. "If I can fix you."

"Oh, right, I guess that makes enough sense," Phantom said, voice slowly shifting from his usual tone to one much more distorted, almost broken in its nature as his torso started to bubble, legs already melted off up to his calves and he hadn't noticed. "But what if you can't revive me?"

"Then, then I'll make something new with your core, it'll probably have your memories," Danny tried to explain as he pressed a hand to Phantoms shoulder, the ghost halfs shoulder falling off and rapidly decomposing into a bubbling. "It'll be a new vessel, and, and you'll be just fine, everything will be ok again!"

"Thanks Danny, it means a lot to know you're gonna try," Phantom said before going to place his remaining hand on Dannys shoulder, the simple embrace lasting for only a few seconds before Phantoms forearms melted away, leaving another bleeding stump in its place. "I guess this is it for a while now?"

"I guess so," Danny said before attempting to give Phantom a tight hug, the human half able to feel the ghost half squish between his limbs and melt away a bit, the embrace was reciprocated best as it could be. "S-See you again."

"See you soon." Phantom responded with before his vocal chords fully gave way, melting into stringy ooze that was easy to see through the collapsed and melted chest, 'ribs' already melting away to reveal a mixed core, one that was commonly mistaken for ice.

Danny wasn't sure how to react as his other half melted away, but he tried to scoop up as much ectoplasm into the jar as possible, the fluid thick and viscous in his hands. He gently reached for the core, it was much like a water balloon, but with a harder outside than a thin layer of plastic, it gave way under his grip as he slowly pulled string after string of ectoplasm from it. The steady glow of the core faltered slightly as each lifeline was removed, the thicker strings of ectoplasm acted like veins that allowed the core to pump the energy through the ghost.

Without any ghost the core would simply keep recycling energy till it exploded, this Danny hoped could be countered by placing it in excess ectoplasm.

Danny slowly squished the core into the vial, being careful not to shatter the core, a soft splish sound could be heard as it made contact with the ectoplasm. He released a sigh of relief as he placed the cork on the vial, making sure it was sealed tight enough that it wouldn't spill out. He didn't know where to go from here so instead he just sat on the ground beside the bubbling and now slowly decomposing pool of ectoplasm that was his other half rotted away.

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rayne-storm · 8 months

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Dies Irae, Dies Angeli

AUgust 14. Angels and Demons

Fandom: Phantom of the Opera

Summary: Erik, the Opera Ghost, died a long, long time ago. His body did, at least. But there's obviously something haunting the Opera House. A demon has come back to play.

A/N: this is just a snippety bit that I've had on my mind for a while that I might do more with later!

****

The misshapen incubus glared from his seat atop the chandelier as the little people ran about with their manufactured emergencies. Always such haste for inconsequential problems. A wig not powdery enough, a music stand with a squeak, a shoelace too short, problems problems problems. It was all so tedious to observe, but was a necessary evil for his true love: music. Opera, musical theater, concerts, concertos… all were soothing to his fiery soul. It was all he needed to be happy.

Until he saw her.

"Miss Daee, is it? Like the Swedish violinist? Descended from the musicians and craftsmen?"

Christine nodded politely, hands clasped in front of her. "Yes. Gustave was my father, may his soul be at peace," she added, taking in their reactions. Glib sadness, the kind when one knows of the deceased but never met them. Good. They'd not pry into her past beyond the niceties, see nothing more than the stars.

"And why have you chosen the Paris Opera House for your first performance?"

"It holds a dear place in my heart. My parents always spoke fondly of it, the way the sound carries and the building seems to have a beautiful life all its own. It really is second to none…" she leaned in conspiratorially, "despite what Sydney may want the world to think."

The delighted, rather pompous agreement signaled she had succeeded in acquiring a short residence.

The managers spoke of rehearsal schedules, practice spaces, all things well and good, and of course she could stay within the building, yes it was fine to walk around for inspiration occasionally, perfectly safe, etcetera, etcetera.

She tuned out the blathering, polite smile never wavering, as she took in the building. Old, beautiful, full of character and dignity. She loved these places, not just for the architecture or history, but for the spirits they carried. Usually wholesome, delightful things, spectres of musicians or actors, the lingering memories of cherished performances, the emotional highs and lows imprinting the space with beautiful light.

Unfortunately, it was a spirit of an entirely nature that brought her. She felt the markings in her skin tingle slightly as she felt the air shift. Something was here. Something decidedly out of place with the musical crowd. With luck, she could remove it peacefully. If not, she'd drag it back where it belonged.

Christine Daee was, after all, the most gifted exorcist this side of Rome. When she wasn't busy maintaining her solo career, she was ridding the world of evil. It seemed a little cliche, maybe a little anime, opera singer by day, demon hunter by night, but it was her life and she loved it.

Her favorite part, however, was never the expulsion. It was when she could save someone or something from the darkness. She hoped she could do so here.

***

He watched the beautiful woman as she was escorted through his opera house, heart pounding as she effuses over the building and its charm. It seemed she would be performing, when rehearsals for the current project were through, and had chosen this place specifically for her grand season debut.

Erik hadn't felt stirrings like this in ages, but he knew well how vipers hid behind pretty faces. He tried to control the runaway feelings he had for this newcomer, at least until he could find out more. She could be terrible, after all.

But then they insisted she test out the stage. She stepped out, seeming sheepish and uncomfortable, but when she opened her mouth, it was like the host of heaven itself was singing through her. Her voice was divine, beautiful, otherworldly. Erik knew that she had to become his. His own Angel of Music.

#my writing #rayne writes #fanfiction #august 2023 #phantom of the opera #phan fic #erik the phantom #christine daae

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