#phantom ‘04

[pink-yuri]

♡ Their Phantom ♡

[meiplays]

*photos belong to original creator*

“Beneath the Velvet and Dust” 🥀🌹

Phantom!Sam Winchester x Reader | AU | SFW but Steamy | Obsessive Longing | Tragic Romance | ~2.7k words

Inspired by Phantom of the Opera (2004 Gerard Butler) with full Sam-coded angst and yearning.

Summary: Drawn to a long-abandoned opera house, you come face to face with a ghost from your past—one who’s waited in the shadows, haunted by your voice and the memories you left behind. A dark, romantic reunion unfolds beneath candlelight and forgotten music.

AN: Phantom!Sam Winchester would be so hot.

The air was thick with dust and longing.

You stepped into the shattered bones of the once-grand opera house, boots echoing on cracked marble. A scent like old velvet and wax clung to every surface. Moonlight spilled through broken windows, catching on suspended motes like stars frozen mid-fall.

He was here.

You felt it like a pull deep in your chest. No EMF spike, no signs of a spirit. Just something older. Something yours.

Then—

A low note.

Soft. Lingering.

A piano, buried in shadow, sang from somewhere beyond the stage.

Your breath caught.

You followed it down a corridor, your fingers brushing faded red wallpaper, until a doorway appeared where none should be. The hinges groaned as you pushed through. Beyond it—candles. Dozens. Flickering along the edge of the massive, ruined stage. It glowed like a shrine.

And there, standing at its center, waiting like he'd known you'd come—

Sam.

Or the ghost of him.

Tall. Silent. Half his face masked in cracked porcelain. His long coat rippled as he turned slowly, deliberately. The flamelight caught the gold in his eyes—haunted and burning.

Your throat closed. “Sam?”

A long pause.

“You remembered.”

His voice was deeper than you remembered. Worn smooth with solitude. Laced with something darker—possession wrapped in reverence.

You stepped closer, cautiously, your voice trembling. “It’s really you.”

“I never stopped being me,” he said softly. “But the rest of the world stopped seeing me. Except you.”

He moved forward slowly, one step at a time, gaze locked on yours. You should’ve backed away. You didn’t.

“You left,” you whispered. “You vanished and I—I looked for you everywhere. Dean thought—”

“I know,” he cut in. “I watched you. Heard you calling for me in the dark. Your voice was the only thing that kept me from disappearing completely.”

You froze.

His hand rose, hovering beside your face—not touching, but close enough that you could feel the warmth.

“I dreamed of you every night. Hunted your voice like it was the last thread of reality I had left.” His gaze dropped to your mouth. “Sing for me.”

“I—I haven’t in years—”

“Sing for me,” he repeated, lower, rougher.

You swallowed.

So you did.

Just a few lines of that old lullaby—the one you used to hum on the road, back when the world made sense. His eyes shut, jaw tense like he was trying to hold something in. A breath, a sound, a scream.

When you stopped, his lashes lifted slowly.

And you realized something awful.

He wasn’t just happy to see you.

He needed you. Starved for you.

You barely had time to speak before he crossed the final distance between you and pulled you into his arms.

You gasped as his body met yours—broad, solid, and shaking.

“I’ve waited years for this,” he rasped into your ear. “For you.”

His hands pressed firmly against your back, holding you like you’d disappear if he let go. You could feel his heartbeat hammering through layers of tailored black.

“Sam���”

“You belong here.”

Your breath caught.

His face tucked into your neck, nose brushing your pulse, inhaling like he was memorizing you from the inside out.

“Say you missed me.”

You didn’t hesitate.

“I missed you.”

A trembling exhale escaped his lips.

“I would’ve burned the world to hear you say that,” he said hoarsely.

Then, music.

You hadn’t seen him press a key, but somehow, the soft swell of piano rose around you again, echoing through the rafters like the building itself wept with relief.

He took your hand and placed it on his chest.

“Dance with me.”

You nodded.

He guided you slowly, one hand pressed against the small of your back, the other clasping your fingers with a grip too firm to be gentle—but not cruel. Never cruel.

You swayed, your bodies so close it was hard to breathe without inhaling each other. His touch was reverent, but desperate. Like someone who’d imagined this moment so many times, he was afraid it would vanish if he blinked.

Your voice trembled. “What happened to you, Sam?”

His lips grazed your temple. “I was too much. Too broken. I couldn’t be the man you deserved.”

“You still are.”

He stopped dancing.

Held you tighter.

“I’m not,” he whispered. “I’ve done things. Let things inside me. Things that sing through my bones when the world is quiet.”

You looked up, searching his face, fingers rising to trace the cracked edge of the mask.

He flinched—then didn’t stop you.

You pulled it gently away.

And saw him.

He wasn’t monstrous.

Just scarred. Worn. Beautiful in the way something holy looks after surviving hell.

His breath hitched. “I didn’t want you to see that.”

“I needed to.”

You reached up and pressed your forehead to his.

“You’re still mine.”

His mouth parted like that broke something in him.

And then he kissed you—not soft. Not tender.

Hungry.

His mouth crushed against yours with a groan that sounded like it came from the depths of his soul. His hand tangled in your hair. His body trembled like he was holding himself back from sinking into you entirely.

When he pulled back, his lips were red and parted.

“I’ve waited so long,” he whispered, voice breaking. “Tell me this is real.”

You kissed him again, arms wrapping around his neck.

“It’s real.”

His hands dragged down your back, breath ragged. “I want to lock this moment away. Keep it under my skin. If I wake and you’re gone again—”

“I’m not leaving.”

A pause. His grip loosened slightly.

“You should.”

You shook your head. “No.”

“I’m dangerous now,” he warned. “What I’ve become—”

“I don’t care.”

Lightning cracked outside.

You kissed him again, slower this time. Pressed your palms to his chest.

“I came for you, Sam. I chose you.”

He buried his face against your neck again, holding you with something that felt like worship.

Then the music quieted.

The candles still burned.

And the man they all thought was gone held you like he’d found the last light in his darkness—and he would never let it go again.

~

[fandom]

TV Shows

Week Ending April 8th, 2024

9-1-1 +1

Hazbin Hotel -1

Good Omens +1

Danny Phantom +14

Avatar: The Last Airbender -2

Supernatural +8

The Bad Batch -2

Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles -1

Hannibal

Ninjago +10

The Owl House -1

Percy Jackson and the Olympians -4

Stranger Things -1

Doctor Who -8

Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir -4

Star Trek: The Original Series +3

The Good Place

House of the Dragon -5

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Interview with the Vampire

The number in italics indicates how many spots a title moved up or down from the previous week. Bolded titles weren’t on the list last week.

[stels-music-box]

Yellowjackets + Song Parallels

"Unsaid Emily" - Julie and the Phantoms (sung by Charlie Gillespie)

Jackie x Shauna

[smolperidot]

copia and v are going to agree to work through all the bullshit of their circumstances, and then they immediately start a war because copia prefers cats the musical, and v likes the phantom of the opera.

[xomakara]

NCT's Doyoung is my Phantom if you must know lol

[small-jar]

Ok no more vampire fever it has been replaced by my phantom relapse

[nyphantomphan]

One day as the Phantom and the next day as Jean Valjean.

Choi Jae Rim performs in two musicals at the same time (2023-24).

[britishchick09]

i think i know what akinator's favorite phantom adaptations are.. ;)

[echoghost1]

EctoberHaunt 2023 Day 04 - Aliens

[12daysficmas]

Christmas Spirit

Is it just a feeling?

Or is there an actual ghost that embodies this idea similar to the Fright Knight and Halloween?

[pink-yuri]

♡ Their Phantom ♡

[mayonakako]

@truthprevail sent... ❛ wait, are you serious? ❜

"i am. i wouldn't lie about something like this. not after what happened..."

madoka exhales a sigh, fidgeting with a spray bottle in her hands. gray eyes are clouded over with sorrow. when she'd heard a prosecutor was coming by the shop to ask about the recently-deceased train conductor, she couldn't help feeling a little nervous. a silly response, she knows; there'd be no way to point the finger at her for what had happened. it was only by chance that she'd helped him out that day, and the purpose of the conversation was to determine any possible motive or reasoning for the tragedy that had occurred.

"he'd come by the shop the day before the accident. maybe the day before that. he was a regular, so that sort of thing blends together, a little... but it was definitely recent. the day i saw him last was his wedding anniversary, so he'd come in to order a huge bouquet for his wife... he always seemed so happy to talk about her that i have a hard time imagining anything went wrong that night. nothing so upsetting that it'd lead to a despair-induced subway derailing. and he didn't seem ill, either... or even overworked."

"it's weird... like a switch in him suddenly flipped."

honestly, it reminds madoka of what she'd heard on the news about apathy syndrome back in middle school. she's not about to speculate about such a thing aloud, though, not when she has no evidence to back it up. not to prosecutor niijima, who's already dealing with enough as it is trying to get to the bottom of these incidents.

the mental shutdowns, they're calling them. how sad...

"sorry i can't be more help, niijima-san. if i remember something, would it be alright if i contacted you?"

four words.

[ivygorgon]

A new video was added to Ivy Gorgon's playlist, US Politics. American-Backed Coups: How The CIA Destabilized South America | ENDEVR Documentary The CIA & South America | CIA Declassified | ENDEVR Documentary Watch the Next Episode here: https://youtu.be/Q0h9eqpGZ_M 00:00 Intro 01:33 Deadly Phantom Coup In Guatemala, the CIA uses psychological warfare - and a "phantom army" - as part of a coup d'état that will change history. 47:50 Castro and the Cold Cream Discussing the remarkable tale of how the CIA tried to kill Fidel Castro by turning his 19-year-old lover into an assassin. 01:35:13 The Hunt for Che Guevara Che Guevara is intent on destroying the U.S. The CIA sends agent, Felix Rodriguez, to Bolivia to bring him back alive. Based on new documents we now reveal the true story of this secret CIA mission to hunt down the world's most famous revolutionary. ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ Subscribe to ENDEVR for free: https://bit.ly/3e9YRRG Facebook: https://bit.ly/2QfRxbG Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/endevrdocs/ ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ #FreeDocumentary #ENDEVR #cia #blackops #castro #che ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ ENDEVR explains the world we live in through high-class documentaries, special investigations, explainer videos, and animations. We cover topics related to business, economics, geopolitics, social issues, and everything we think is interesting. -ENDEVR

[megathoughtfulcollectorpeace]

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[jackdraw-spwrite]

After 02

Words: 100 Characters: Aunt Alicia Warnings: Implied character undeath?

For Ectoberhaunt Day 4, Came Back Wrong Also on AO3

Summer in Arkansas saw the kind of rain that washed the world white.

When it cleared, Alicia checked on the grave. Rain had compressed the loose earth, but it seemed fine. She squelched off to check on the rhubarb.

The voices of the woods around her were familiar. The voice calling her name that night was familiar in a different way.

"Aunt Alicia?"

Knocking.

She grabbed a gun and cracked the door open.

A boy stood on her porch, dressed in ratty clothes and teenage gangles. Brown caked his fingertips.

In the kerosene light, Danny's eyes glowed like a cat's.

<< < 02 > >>