#phantom of the opera!cod

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Lights Go Out I Wake Up

König is my sweet little baby and I love him dearly. Enjoy some more Phantom of the Opera!König as he watches reader. He's a bit creepy, but he's also my little creepy baby. Also, this story has a very different interpretation of Carlotta. I thought it might be nice to have women supporting women this time. Or well, one woman being a support. Anna, who you have yet to meet, is not so nice at all.

Also, König learns he has competition! He's not too happy about that.

Anyways,

No Content Warnings

Wordcount: 2.4k

Art from This Post

Story below the cut

Lights Go Out I Wake Up

You looked up in the balconies of the opera house expectantly. You tried to see if he was there. Maybe, if you were lucky, you might see a flap of his cape or a glimpse of the crimson ribbons of his mask. You desperately searched but, as always, it was to no avail.

You turned back to the stage where the primadonna was on center stage. She flicked her long blond tresses over her shoulder as she reached out to the audience, serenading them with her warbling soprano voice. You were drawn into the siren’s song, listening to each staccato note followed by a sweeping drop, each rise and fall of her tone as she sang out the tune to The Magic Flute. She attacked, she defended, she swooped and she swelled with the song as she traversed across the stage.

You smiled softly. You would never be like Carlotta, not in a thousand years. She was leagues above anyone in the house, hands down. Men traveled halfway across the world to bear witness to her voice and her visage. By the final notes of the song, the stage had been outlined with a row of roses, each bouquet from a different suitor fighting for her hand. Carlotta’s voice masterfully lulled each one of them into an enchanted hypnotic state. You followed her movements, trying your best to memorize each and every single flick of her fingers or swoop of her wine red dress as she sang out to the crowds. In that moment, Carlotta had placed the dagger in your hands and sang to you of rage, hatred, scorn. You, Pamina, watched as your mother told you her plans and urged you to slay the sorcerer. You watched her, her passion and beauty overwhelming as she came to a crescendo of the song, the make-or-break of the piece, the part that broke many a singer’s voice before.

Carlotta’s face was clear and relaxed as she hit the high notes, a beautiful crystal clear attack, receding briefly only to sharply hit it again and again before swaying onwards. One of the most brilliantly technical pieces of opera written for a soprano, and yet Carlotta seemed to be floating as she swept across the stage. She was above it all as she magically twisted the song to her delight.

As always, you were floored.

Carlotta was the greatest opera singer to ever come from the British Isles. At least, that was your opinion. The true beauty of Carlotta though was not her voice, nor was it her impeccable diamond-cut beauty. The beauty of Carlotta was her loving eye. She looked into the crowd and you could see her love for them in every smile she gave them. She was the queen of the stage and you would never dare to steal her title. As always, she looked at home here, presented for thousands to admire. She was the songbird of the Vienna State Opera, but this building was her cage.

When she had finished, she left the stage with tears in her eyes. You immediately took her in her arms and hushed her.

“I don’t want it to be over,” she sniffed as she held you tight.

“We’ll still keep in touch,” you assured her.

“We both know it’s not the same,” she held you tightly, then released you back to the darkness of the workshop.

“We can message each other online,” you tried to explain but she wasn’t having it.

“I won’t be able to teach you anymore,” she bemoaned, “and you won’t have anyone to help you with Anna.”

“I don’t need help with Anna,” you huffed.

Carlotta gave you a look, “Darling, we both know that’s a lie.”

You frowned, but followed her back to the dressing rooms. You flipped on a single light, keeping the room only barely lit enough to be able to see yourself in the mirror. Meanwhile, Carlotta sat at her vanity and flicked on the lights to get a better look at her own beauty. You watched her slowly wipe off the theatre makeup while she sat at her vanity. She drummed her fingers on her cheeks in a light massage as she cooled down from the performance.

“So, do you know what you’ll do when you get home?” you leaned on the wall beside the vanity.

“Go to my parents probably,” Carlotta said as she put a dab of skin lotion on her fingers, “they’ve missed me. I’ve missed this little cafe in London that makes the best butter tarts. I just hope they’re still open…”

“If they make the best butter tarts, why wouldn’t they be?” you asked.

“Everything goes too fast in London. One day you see a new hat shop, the next day it’s a tourist trap. There’s never a dry day in London!” Carlotta gave you a quick grin before dabbing at her temples again, “and I miss it. Vienna is nice, but it’s not home.”

“I thought you said Madrid was your home,” you pointed out.

“I was born in Madrid but I was raised in London,” Carlotta explained, “I moved there when I was eight. I only visited Spain when going to see my family, but other than that I was at home in London.”

“You know, you’re the only English woman I’ve ever heard be nostalgic about London,” you mused, “everybody else calls it a tar pit.”

“Oh it’s a tar pit alright,” Carlotta laughed, “but it’s my tar pit.”

You smiled as she went through the rest of her routine, unwinding her hair from its high knot and gently sloughing the great billowing red dress to change into a sleek pair of leggings and a turtleneck. She tossed her blond hair over her shoulders, casting you a sad look as she watched you take off your own clothes.

“I don’t have much longer to teach you,” she sighed.

“Well, it’s not like I need the teaching,” you pointed out, “I’m not your protege. I’m just a backup singer.”

“But you have the voice for a lead,” Carlotta countered, “you have it! Oh stop laughing, I’m serious! You can do it! Anna can do it, but she’s not a natural. You are.”

“I can’t handle that much pressure,” you sighed.

“But you can!” Carlotta sighed, “I just… I wish I could take you home with me. I could train you, give you a position at the RBO, we could do it! You could be a star!”

You shook your head sadly, “I’m not a star though. I’m lucky I even got my parts here.”

Carlotta clenched her lily-white fists in her lap. Her big wide eyes narrowed into feline slits. She looked angry, frustrated, but most of all, disappointed as she whispered, “You don’t know what you’re throwing away, do you?”

“I just think it's best if I stick to my own lane,” you sighed.

Carlotta’s eyes never left you as she pursed her cherry red lips. In the dim light, she looked like a perfect angel, much like the ones painted above. She clenched her hands together, then let them relax with a sigh.

“You’ll keep up your lessons with me?” she asked hopefully.

You nodded and sat on a nearby stool, “Of course. I love your lessons.”

Carlotta smiled thinly, “I love them too.”

You watched as she slipped her necklace back over her swan neck. The bright glint of ruby reminded you of the stage curtains she wrapped herself in. You couldn’t imagine Carlotta as anything other than a singer. She was born for the stage, after all. Her entire childhood had been preparing her for the opera house, following in the footsteps of her mother and her mother before her.

How you wished you could follow in her footsteps.

“I’m gonna miss you, you know,” you sighed.

“I’m going to miss my best student,” Carlotta gave you a sombre smile.

“We’ll keep in touch, right?”

Carlotta flashed her award-winning smile, “I have all your socials; I’m not letting you get away from me that easily!”

You chuckled as you walked around the room, searching for a small brown box.

Carlotta got up to peek over your shoulder to admire the empty wrappers tucked under your shawl.

“Well,” she crowed, “looks like tubby got his treat after all!”

“Tubby?” you scoffed, “the phantom isn’t fat!”

“Well that’s what everybody else says,” Carlotta pointed out,” and if he’s eating candies and chocolates all day long then he’s bound to be… Well, you know… Tubby.”

“I’m telling you,” you rolled your eyes, “when I saw him he was skinny as a rake.”

“As a rake?” Carlotta raised a perfect eyebrow, “not a tractor mower?”

“No he’s skinny! Honestly, I should probably put out something a bit more substantial for him…” you muttered.

“Oh you’re going to go and make the phantom home cooked meals now, are you?” Carlotta smirked.

You huffed as a blush crossed your cheeks, “Well, maybe it would be nice.”

Carlotta hummed as she watched you go dispose of the wrappers. When you sat back down, she gave you a sagely nod.

“Well, if you get this phantom on a diet maybe he won’t be so afraid to show himself,” Carlotta shrugged, “who knows, maybe you could introduce us. You do seem to be his favourite.”

“Me?” you twittered awkwardly, “I don’t know about that…”

“Oh I know!” Carlotta laughed, “whenever you’re on stage the reviews are all five stars! I think the reason you’re being cast so often is that the managers are noticing how well we do when you’re on stage!”

You huffed, “You’re saying it’s not my skills as a performer drawing in the reviews?”

Carlotta bristled, “No I’m not saying that!” she relaxed as she took your hand in hers, “I’m saying that the phantom has a liking for you. I love you, but one particularly good background singer isn’t going to turn the tides of an entire production. You don’t ensure that lights magically keep working. Hell, one lead girl, Hannah I think (but you’d have to check), her mic went out halfway through a performance. Not a single person noticed until they were doing audio checks after the performance! It was incredible!”

“Wait, you’re talking about the time we did Faust, right?” you asked.

“Yes that’s the one!” Carlotta grinned, “I’m telling you that something’s special about you when you’re on stage. Everybody else says you’re a lucky charm, but I think that a certain someone is watching over you.”

You looked away to try and hide your flushed face, “Well, maybe. But if he really liked me, wouldn’t he maybe introduce himself? I only saw him once…”

“I’m telling you,” Carlotta said primly, “he’s afraid you’ll think he’s fat! Either that or he’s an actual ghost, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

“I thought Henry was the ghost hunter around here?” you elbowed her lightly.

“What I said stays between us!” Carlotta warned you.

“Sure,” you smirked, “whatever you say.”

“You know, you should show more respect for your teacher,” Carlotta sniffed.

“I thought you were Anna’s teacher?” you pointed out.

Carlotta groaned and rubbed her temples irritably, “Well she’s no star either. If it weren’t part of my contract here I would’ve dropped her ages ago. She’s…”

“She’s something else,” you supplied.

“Oh she sure is…” Carlotta grumbled as she leaned her elbows onto the vanity, “at least I get one decent student out of this contract.”

You smiled, “I try to be.”

Carlotta turned to face you again with a ghost of a smile, “You are.”

You chatted easily in the dressing room, swapping stories of theatre hijinks and arguing over the stature of the phantom of the opera late into the night. As you left for the night, you wondered once again if you had actually seen the phantom so long ago. Was it really true? Did you actually see the phantom, or was that just another performer? You suspected you’d never know for sure. You just hoped that you’d actually seen the whole event. You’d started to wonder if you were hallucinating the entire time.

You shut the door and locked it as you left.

Inside the room, König drifted from the corner of the dark room to your vanity. He heard voices coming from the alley behind him. Carefully, he used a nail he’d stolen earlier to tack a small letter to the corner of your mirror before ducking behind a panel in the wall. He noted that the gap was terribly small, far too small for a ‘tubby’ man to fit through. If that Carlotta wasn’t such a good teacher, well… König shook his head of the thoughts. As long as Carlotta was good to you, he’d be sure to watch over her too. His personal offence could wait another day if it meant ensuring you’d be safe in the opera house. He could be the ‘enormously fat rat’ as long as he could continue to watch your performances.

He hid behind the wall as the next group of singers swanned through the door. He listened to them titter about, laughing and giggling after such a successful showing. He heard a small gasp, and listened close.

“Look at that!” a girl said aloud.

“Look at what?” another asked.

“On the Songbird’s vanity! There’s a note!”

“Should we take a look?”

König bristled.

“No, no we shouldn’t. Let’s just ask her about it later.”

“Do you think it’s a lover?”

A scoff.

“I don’t think so. She’s not exactly a lovable sort.”

König rolled his eyes.

“Well, maybe. There’s that one guy who’s always asking about her.”

“Oh, that Makarov guy?”

That got König’s attention.

“Yeah, the russian guy. He’s always watching Songbird, you know? I’ve heard he only gets tickets when Songbird’ll be on stage.”

“You think he got backstage to pin a note for her?”

“Maybe, or he might’ve given it to a stagehand to do it for him. Either way, it’s so romantic!”

“Well, if it’s really Makarov behind that, Songbird’s got another thing coming for her.”

“You think so?”

“Oh I know so! Makarov… Well, he’s not a good man. Let’s just hope it’s anybody but Makarov.”

König glanced around in the dark. Makarov? Who was this Makarov? Why was he interested in his little Songbird?

He didn’t bother to hide his footsteps as he crawled away, too focused on the new man to notice how the girls went silent as he left.

“Was that the phantom?” someone asked.

“Maybe. What’re your thoughts he wrote the letter?”

“A ghost writing a letter? Now I know you’re making things up.”

“Who knows, maybe he did. Can you imagine it? A phantom falling in love with our little Songbird?”

Someone hummed carefully, “Something tells me that’s not too far off the truth.”

König dump

Alternate Universes

[gremlinmodetweeker]

PLEASE

everyone will have to hear me out on this one BUT MOOSE KONIG…. MOOSE KONIG IN RUT

[tw1nkee28]

𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞.

🜲 —— - - - - - - —— 🜲

Bell,,,, Bell and Adler ,,,, hhgeghd Belldler,,, falls over

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

🎭Phantom of The Opera! GhostJade🌹💀

Happy Halloween! ( •̀ .̫ •́ )✧

This took me longer than I wanted to admit and I'm obviously late 😭 But here it is! Did a poll on Tumblr about which character GhostJade should dress up as for Halloween, and Phantom of The Opera was the top one.

I took the colors/vibe from the 2004 movie with Gerard Butler and Emmy Rossum. Ghost with that mask looks better than I imagined! Jade is just so fun to draw as usual (not the dress though 😭)

Anyway, hope you like it and let us all welcome MWIII! ✨

Support me on Ko-Fi! ✨

[paige1722]

Pairing: Phantom!Simon Riley x reader

Warnings: gross behavior from a man, almost sexual assault?violence, stalking

I was listening to the Phantom of the Opera soundtrack and thought of this.

900ish words

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

The Ghost has always been there, watching. Ever since you joined this Opera House as a dancer two years ago. Even though you have never actually spoken to him or seen him up close, the hair on the back of your neck raised with the feeling of someone watching you has been a constant presence in your life, his looming shadow that is always hanging over you no matter where you go, his figure that never seems to leave the corner of your eye. 

When you think about the masked man or Ghost, as he is fearfully referred to as, you can’t bring yourself to be scared of him or feel any hostility towards him as you once were when you first noticed him watching you. Now, you even begin to refer to him as your guardian angel, making you feel safe and protected, knowing that he is always there looking out for you. It all started when he would leave you small red roses with a black ribbon tied around the stem and a small wax skull in the center of your room after particularly rough days, sometimes even leaving food with it when you accidentally end up missing dinner because of dance practice taking longer. 

Some of the other dancers are scared of you, now thinking that you are in cohorts with the supposed Ghost and will incur his wrath if they are seen talking to you. It doesn’t bother you that they all leave you alone now because they were never really the best company to keep around anyways, always getting into trouble trying to sabotage one another for the leading roles in performances besides, you have found friendship with two of the stagehands.

Today, something was different; there had been a strange gut feeling that something bad was going to happen today ever since you woke up, causing you to be more on edge. As you stand in the practice room alone, trying to perfect the newest choreography, the door slams open, causing you to jump in surprise. You turn around to see the newest stagehand smiling creepily at you. You hear your friends talk about him, and they have nothing good to say about him. The door clicks into place behind him, breaking you out of your thoughts as he walks to where you stand in front of the mirror. 

Taking a step back as he approaches fearfully, you ask, “What are you doing?” 

He lets out a deep chuckle, eyeing you up and down, “ I just wanted to introduce myself to you; I have seen you around and thought that we should get to know each other better.” He reaches his hand up, resting his hand around your neck and rubbing his thumb against the side of your neck. 

You let out a panicked sound, ripping the man's hand away from around your neck and stepping away from him, “What are you doing!?”  you shout as you make your way towards the door, but not putting your back towards him in fear for what might happen if you do. 

He lunged forward harshly, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into him, trapping you in his grasp. “Relax, you might end up liking it. You never know.” he sneered before. His heavy breathing fanning over your face, making you recoil in disgust, trying to free yourself from his arms. You begin screaming at the top of your lungs for help, hoping that someone will hear you and come to your rescue. 

 Loud bangs erupted from behind the mirror, and the sound of glass shattering echoed in the room. The man holding you throws you to the side, causing you to lose your balance, falling to the floor and smacking your head against the ground. At the harsh impact, black dots begin to swarm your vision; the last thing you hear as you succumb to the darkness is the thudding of heavy hits like someone was fighting. 

From the darkness, your Ghost had emerged when he heard your desperate screams for help. He had left you alone in the practice room for no longer than five minutes so that he would be able to leave a rose in your room like always, but this time, as he approached the practice room, instead of hearing you dancing around the room, he heard the sounds of your cries for help. Sending fear and anger throughout his body, without even thinking, Ghost threw himself into the two-way mirror, shattering it into a million pieces. At the sight of him emerging from behind the mirror, the man who held you captive threw your body to the ground as Ghost grabbed the man, unleashing punch after punch. The pathetic man tried fighting back, but it was no use; he didn’t stand a chance against the Ghost. 

After a couple of heavy hits, the man lays limp at Ghost's feet; whether he is dead or alive does not matter to him at all. The only thing on his mind was you. He walks over to you, carefully lifting your unconscious body into his arms, checking for injuries, and finding nothing too serious. He stands, cradling you to his chest, walking back to the gaping hole in the mirror. 

Reaching his liar hidden deep beneath the Opera House, Ghost gently places you down on his bed, whispering to your unconscious form, “Don’t worry, no one will ever hurt you again.” 

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

Price, the owner of the Opera House, lets out a deep sigh at the letter from Ghost in his hands. He lits up a cigar, letting out a puff of smoke before standing and beginning to make his way to the practice dance room, muttering curses under his breath at another mess he has to clean up.

--------

masterlist

[incinerated-vestiges]

The Phantom - Ghost

@mrsrileywrites hope I did him justice

Without curtains bc I couldn’t decide which one I liked better

[marz-barzz]

The joy of carnality

Sfw, potentially suggestive (no bits or tits), I was inspired by cannibalism as a metaphor for intimacy

°. •┈꒰ა🌹໒꒱┈• .°

I love the smell of your perfume. It was sweet and filled my nose like a deadly smoke, warning me of the danger ahead.

And yet I proceed, holding you as you kiss my neck. Your bites were harsh, but I loved them all the same, your lips soothing the damaged and tender skin. Relishing in the way you devoured me, my eyes shut as I inhale your captivating scent by the lungful.

Your lips stain red with blood as you rip through the tender meat of a lamb. Your pearly white teeth, neat as a military graveyard, blood tainting their pristine white, like a wolf biting into a fresh kill. I imagine it's my blood instead, indulging on my flesh with grace as you chew through each piece of meat, sipping my tears of bliss as if wine in your silver goblet.

I adore your smile. The fangs in your mouth are just a tease and a delightful rush for my poor soul and bring me down to my knees. Silently, I plead with my eyes to give into the sin of devouring my depraved skin.

The sound of your moans when you feast on me sends me to hell and burns my skin with the fires of passion. For the temptation of your hunger drives me mad in the best ways I've ever known. How you hum and giggle in delight as you taste me. Elegantly thin fingers hold me as you sigh with satisfaction, your gluttony satiated for now as I lay unfurled and a mess from your love.

°. •┈꒰ა🌹໒꒱┈• .°

[n1ght0f-nyx]

im pleading with someone to request something, i cannot think for myself anymore

[melit0n]

MASTERLIST.

Call of Duty:

⋆☀︎. Knock Knock (let me in) -> König x reader (oneshot)

⋆☀︎. Half-Starved -> Ghost x reader (oneshot)

Phantom of the Opera:

⋆☀︎. Miasma -> Phantom x reader (oneshot)

Sleep Token:

⋆☀︎. Oh warm, distant June -> Vessel & Sleep (oneshot)

OC works (not x reader):

⋆☀︎. Farewell to Providence -> Knowledge & Brutus

⋆☀︎. Rising Waters -> Knowledge & Brutus

⋆☀︎. The Fire doth Sing of Iron and Devotion -> Darya & Mel

⋆☀︎. Blessed Be -> unamed OC work

OC works (x reader):

⋆☀︎. Delicate Is The Flesh -> Yan!demon OC x reader (fic):

Prologue

Chapter one: For Whom The Bell Tolls

Chapter two: Corvus and Krater

Chapter three: Belly of the Beast

Chapter four: Something Forgotten

Chapter five: Citrus and Cinnamon

Chapter six: Mumbling Conscious

Chapter seven: Heavy is The Head that Mourns The Past

Chapter eight: Be Not Afraid

Chapter nine: Eye for an Eye

Chapter ten: Blood will have Blood

Chapter eleven: Do you Remember...

Chapter twelve: Thirty Silver Pieces

Interlude: In a Gloomy Wood, Astray

⋆☀︎. Ao3 || Quotev || Wattpad (heavily inactive)

- DISCLAIMER: I do not give permission for any of my writing to be used for AI, either for training a bot, or for the basis of a C.AI bot. If anybody sees any C.AI bots that use my writing as a basis, or follow the same storyline as my writing, please let me know.

[deadunderorbit]

The Phantom of the Opera, but make it ghostsoap

[gremlinmodetweeker]

thank you for the beautiful, lovely and amazing wonder of phantom of the opera x konig <3!!!

i would love to know more, especially with phantom!konig winning and keeping sweet, songbird reader all to himself. he deserves! the love! the connection of their love song would be so sweet and pure!! <3

Okay so Phantom!König is going so hard in my head right now it's insane. I was making new AUs and the ask I got kept coming back so now it's probably gonna be a whole new story series, so keep your eyes peeled for that. I love this guy so much. He's such a dweeb.

So, he genuinely loves reader more than anyone else he's met. More than the women he met on tour in the military, more than the nurse who cared for him in the hospital, more than the girl who gave him flowers in school. He's obsessed with Songbird (name for reader) on a different level. He needs her. He can't be without her.

He is so horrified by his face, but I'm gonna be honest, for having a mild case of leprosy it's not that bad. I am down to draw some out on paper, but sadly I can't make a reference for him digitally because my school photo shop license got revoked ;-;. It hurts my soul.

But! Phantom!König is determined to win over Songbird. He will leave bouquets of roses by their door, he'll always give them bottles of water from the vending machine (gonna go into this later, but he had to learn what the heck a vending machine was just to use it), he'll go so far as to mess with the stage equipment to shine an extra light on Songbird even when they're in the back. He'll do anything to bring Songbird to center stage.

He's terrified when he sees your ex lover come back into your life. He's horrified to know that it's a man who's known as a monster in this city, and he wants so badly to steal you away to save you from him. He's going to do everything in his power to wrench you away from that vulture's talons. He won't have you stained by that filth.

He's not a good lover. He's strange, possessive, archaic. He's older than you by centuries, so his idea of a proper relationship is pretty outdated. But he also wants to be good. He knows he's a sick and twisted man, but he wants to be good for you. He wants to love you as you deserve to be loved. He doesn't want to steal you away into the darkness, he wants you on stage for everyone to hear your beautiful voice. He wants you to be loved by everyone nearly as much as he loves you. But nobody will ever love you as much as he does.

Nobody.

[storms-of-lastweek]

Was listening to the PTO soundtrack today and ended up with this.🤭

"Who was that shape in the shadows? Whose is the face in the mask?"

[orangefreckles]

I have a fic request….. I’ve been having a fixation in Phantom of the Opera.

Just imagine….Ghost or Konig

The mask, the singing, the pining, like omg

The tension…

This has been in my mind for weekssss

I just really need this done please

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

Help me choose a pose for the GhostJade Phantom of The Opera AU guys 👀👌

Do you prefer :

(A)

Or (B)?

Kinda wanna make both and I'll post them but maybe which one is the main one? Vote below 👀

LEAVE A COMMENT ALSO I LIKE TO HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS! (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

[usagi-03]

moots I need ur amazing opinions :3

(I have all the costumes besides the phantom of the opera but I think it would be kinda cool to dress as him. I'll be more than happy to hear any costume ideas that would involve dark clothing or masks)

[urbelovedfr]

All about me!

hello! i didn't planned on posting here tbh but i kinda changed my mind so why not do an introduction! Even though i don't really know how Tumblr works i still wanna join communities and enjoy the content here as i was doing before 🫶

So a bit about myself!

My name is Ro/Lottie but this may change since I can't really settle down on one name:(

I am in soo many different fandoms due to hyperfixtations!

Some of them are:

- Lifesteal smp!!

- Percy Jackson

- Cod

- Phamtom of the opera

- Hannibal

- Marauders

- Ghost (the band)

- Marvel

If we were villians/The Secret History

Dead poets society

And so so many more!!

I'm a minor so please keep that in mind:)

I'm also figuring out how Tumblr works slowly but successfully!

Also english is not my first language since I'm hungarian so please bare with me

I'll probably make edits to this post once i can!