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#the prompt was for beauty and the beast
ladymidnight-goesforth Β· 19 days
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Stay With the High Lord
"Stay with the High Lord, human, and live to see everything righted."
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Feylin Week 2024, Day 4: Beauty and the Beast
@feylinweek
Don't ask me why, but this is the first thing I thought of when I saw this prompt. Disney's Beauty and the Beast is one of my all-time favorite movies, and when reading A Court of Thorns and Roses, I couldn't help but wonder how much inspiration SJM took from the animated classic.
Really, Lady Midnight, I can hear you say, you didn't think of the romantic ballroom scene, or the transformation scene at the end? You thought of this scene? This one, for the most romantic prompt on the list? Really??? And the answer is, yes. Yes, I did. πŸ˜… But he isn't even in his beast form in this scene in the book--Sh sh shshshs.
Don't ask. Just enjoy. That is all. ❀️
I am the artist. Please do not repost.
#my art#my fanart#feylin#feyre x tamlin#tamlin x feyre#feylinweek2024#yes i know this isn't exactly like the scene in the book#i also know sjm wrote it the way she did so that feyre could admire tamlin's muscles#which is exactly what happens after he kills the naga#priorities amirite#anyway#the prompt was for beauty and the beast#so i made him into a beast#you know#instead of choosing literally any other scene with him as the beast#artistic license#that's all i'll say
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anitalenia Β· 1 year
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━━━ .Β°Λ–βœ§ romance tropes β‹†Λ™βŠΉ
π‘‘β„Žπ‘–π‘  𝑖𝑠 π‘€β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿπ‘’ 𝐼 π‘Žπ‘š π‘”π‘œπ‘–π‘›π‘” π‘‘π‘œ π‘π‘œπ‘ π‘‘ π‘Ž 𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑑 π‘œπ‘“ π‘π‘œπ‘šπ‘šπ‘œπ‘›π‘™π‘¦ 𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑑 π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘’π‘›π‘π‘œπ‘šπ‘šπ‘œπ‘›π‘™π‘¦ 𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑑 π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘šπ‘Žπ‘›π‘π‘’ π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘π‘’π‘ . π‘’π‘Žπ‘β„Ž π‘œπ‘›π‘’ 𝑀𝑖𝑙𝑙 β„Žπ‘Žπ‘£π‘’ 𝑖𝑑𝑠 π‘œπ‘€π‘› π‘π‘œπ‘ π‘‘ π‘‘π‘’π‘‘π‘–π‘π‘Žπ‘‘π‘’π‘‘ π‘‘π‘œ π‘ π‘’π‘π‘”π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘’π‘π‘  π‘œπ‘“ π‘‘β„Žπ‘Žπ‘‘ π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘π‘’, π‘œπ‘Ÿ 𝑗𝑒𝑠𝑑 β„Žπ‘’π‘™π‘π‘“π‘’π‘™ π‘ π‘–π‘‘π‘’π‘Žπ‘‘π‘–π‘œπ‘›π‘  π‘‘π‘œ 𝑝𝑒𝑑 π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘œπ‘π‘  𝑖𝑛 π‘“π‘œπ‘Ÿ π‘‘β„Žπ‘Žπ‘‘ π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘π‘’.
β•°β‚Šβœ§ ﾟOTHER LINKS . ΰΎ€ΰ½² ⊹ masterlist | taglist | my library
| prompt help | symbol packs | dividers
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˖⁺ ⊹୨ forbidden romance ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character cannot openly be in a relationship with someone for some reason Λšΰ­¨ΰ­§β‹†ο½‘Λš ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ enemies to lovers ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when two characters are enemies / in violent opposition to each other in the beginning but gradually end up in love Λšΰ­¨ΰ­§β‹†ο½‘Λš ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ friends to lovers ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when two characters are friends first, but end up falling in love with each other Λšΰ­¨ΰ­§β‹†ο½‘Λš ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ dark/taboo tropes ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ romance between two people that is considered inappropriate or wrong/not acceptable in society Λšΰ­¨ΰ­§β‹†ο½‘Λš ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ opposites attract ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when two characters are drastically different people/opposite personalities but still somehow love each other Λšΰ­¨ΰ­§β‹†ο½‘Λš ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ unrequited love ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character loves someone who is unattainable for some reason. one sided love. Λšΰ­¨ΰ­§β‹†ο½‘Λš ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ fake relationship ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when two characters feel no romantic feelings for one another but are forced to be together. in some cases, they eventually fall in love. Λšΰ­¨ΰ­§β‹†ο½‘Λš ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ fish out of water ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character is in an unfamiliar environment and has to adapt. think city girl on a farm. Λšΰ­¨ΰ­§β‹†ο½‘Λš ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ soul mates au ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when two characters are meant to be together from birth, destiny, or soul ties. Λšΰ­¨ΰ­§β‹†ο½‘Λš ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ oblivious to love ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character is clueless about their own romantic feelings towards someone else Λšΰ­¨ΰ­§β‹†ο½‘Λš ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ reverse harem ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ consists of one female protagonist and three or more male love interests. although I have heard varying definitions. Λšΰ­¨ΰ­§β‹†ο½‘Λš ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ secret identity ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when two characters are in love but one is not being truthful with who they really are/they’re hiding something from their love interest (like spiderman) Λšΰ­¨ΰ­§β‹†ο½‘Λš ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ love triangle ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when two characters are in love, but a third party loves one of the characters as well. or, one character is confused between two people who they love (edward x bella x jacob, stefan x elena x damon) Λšΰ­¨ΰ­§β‹†ο½‘Λš ⋆
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━━━ .Β°Λ–βœ§ 𝑻𝑹𝑢𝑷𝑬𝑺 𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑻 𝑡𝑬𝑬𝑫 𝑡𝑢 𝑬𝑿𝑷𝑳𝑨𝑡𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑢𝑡 β‹†Λ™βŠΉ π‘‘π˜©π‘’π‘ π‘’ π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘’ π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘π‘’π‘  π‘‘π˜©π‘Žπ‘‘ π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘’ π‘£π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘¦ 𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇-π’†π’™π’‘π’π’‚π’π’‚π’•π’π’“π’š. 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑗𝑓 𝑖 π‘π‘œπ‘’π‘™π‘‘ π‘π‘œπ‘šπ‘’ 𝑒𝑝 π‘€π‘–π‘‘π˜© π‘ π‘π‘’π‘›π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘–π‘œπ‘  π‘“π‘œπ‘Ÿ π‘‘π˜©π‘’π‘š 𝑖𝑑 π‘€π‘œπ‘’π‘™π‘‘ π‘œπ‘›π‘™π‘¦ 𝑏𝑒 π‘Ž π‘π‘œπ‘’π‘π‘™π‘’, π‘ π‘œ π’•π’‰π’†π’š 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 π’•π’‰π’†π’Šπ’“ π’π’˜π’ π’”π’†π’„π’•π’Šπ’π’. . έβ‚Š ⊹ . ݁˖ .݁
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˖⁺ ⊹୨ marriage ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character is forced to marry another for some reason (arranged marriage) Λšΰ­¨ΰ­§β‹†ο½‘Λš ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ dark past ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character has trauma or pain because of their past, and their love interest helps them heal. Λšΰ­¨ΰ­§β‹†ο½‘Λš ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ amnesia / memory loss ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character loses their memory and has to regain their love and memories for another. Λšΰ­¨ΰ­§β‹†ο½‘Λš ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ alpha hero ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a male character is overprotective, bossy, jealous, possessive, and have great sexual appeal. think bad boy, biker, ceo fanfics. This can also be military men, superhero’s, men in leadership. a vague category. Λšΰ­¨ΰ­§β‹†ο½‘Λš ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ one bed trope ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when two characters are forced to share a bed πŸ‘… you should know this one Λšΰ­¨ΰ­§β‹†ο½‘Λš ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ forced proximity ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when two characters are forced into small spaces together or forced to be together in the same room. Λšΰ­¨ΰ­§β‹†ο½‘Λš ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ beauty and the beast ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a typically male character is capable of great rage and destructive, sometimes a literal monster, but the fem character loves them beyond their looks and sees the good in them. doesn’t have to be a literal monster. Λšΰ­¨ΰ­§β‹†ο½‘Λš ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ in peril tropes ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character is in some sort of crisis and has to be saved by love interest. Λšΰ­¨ΰ­§β‹†ο½‘Λš ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ job related tropes ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character is attracted to someone because of their job, or their romance happens at work/ a specific location (corrupt priest, military man, construction worker). can be taboo. Λšΰ­¨ΰ­§β‹†ο½‘Λš ⋆
˖⁺ ⊹୨ time travel ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character travels back or forward in time and falls in love with someone from that time period. Λšΰ­¨ΰ­§β‹†ο½‘Λš ⋆
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authors note: I am going to be making posts describing each trope individually as well as sub-genres and examples of that trope. I had something similar to this in my notes for my stories and decided to share. there are a lot of tropes out there, so feel free to comment other ones. remember you are loved and important <3
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#aesthetic#pink#pinkcore#pink dividers#cute#writing prompt#sparkles#stars#writing help#romance tropes#enemies to friends to lovers#enemies to lovers#forbidden romance#friends to lovers#slow burn#fish out of water#unrequited crush#unrequited love#time travel trope#beauty and the beast#damsel in distress#❀⋆ ─ π’„π’‚π’“π’π’‚π’•π’Šπ’π’π’” βŠΉβ€ ֙⋆
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prompts-by-anjali Β· 7 months
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β€œListen to me, girl. You have a horrid curse. No man in this village will want to marry a maiden like you, but I β€” ”
β€œOh, what a thing to say! I should hope no one wants to marry me. I’m already wed.”
β€œβ€” but I would be willing to help a maiden such as yourself out of your situation β€” wait, what?”
β€œLast winter! It was a very beautiful wedding at the castle, but short notice. You understand why I couldn’t send you an invite β€” but if you’re worried about my curse, thank you. I am fine.”
β€œWhat β€” who are you married to? Who’s the husband? Why would anyone β€” wait, the β€” the castle? You’re married to the… the Beast?”
β€œIndeed. We share the curse now. He’s really quite the gentleman. I’ll let him know you were very worried about me β€” οΏ½οΏ½
β€œNo! No need! No need to tell him about such foolish, forgettable things! Anyway, bye!”
#beauty and the beast#but with a twist#writing prompts#dialogue prompt#character dialogue#writing resources#writing#creative writing#dialogue#dialogue ideas#dialogue prompts#imagine your otp
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Hii, I'm here to drop a request~
Okay so, i have a thing for self-distrustive characters. Here's the idea: give me a self-harming hero who is too weak to act on it alone and willingly surrenders themselves to villain assuming (hoping maybe) they would torture them for information. Villain tho reluctant, doesn't hesitate to hurt the hero not too seriously tho. But for our self distrustive hero whatever the villain is doing is not enough to make them feel the relief they're seeking so~ let it slip out. Let them thoughtlessly cry out for more. And then give me a shocked villain. A concerned, regretful and lastly caring enough to treat their wounds villain. Give me an unresponsive to the villain's treatment hero. If you'd like to ass anything feel free <3
Much love to you friend, stay hydrated, we love you ~<33
It wasn’t like it didn’t hurt.Β 
It just didn’t hurt enough. That’s why the hoarse please had slipped from their tongue. And it was why the weak moreΒ followed. Judging from their actions, the villain hadn’t heard it right away but when the hero cried harder, the villain’s hands came to a stop.Β 
They’d broken three fingers, not to mention the shattered ankle. What had happened to their ankle had felt just but once the villain had moved on to their fingers, the hero had secretly begging them to break harder bones, like their collarbone or maybe even their ulna. It was sick, they knew it in their heart. It was maniacal and disturbing to feel like this.
Heroes were supposed to save people, even if their own well-being came in last. Saving themselves counted too.
The villain let go of their hand, eyes darting between the hero’s.
β€œWhat did you just say to me?” The villain’s hands went through the hero’s hair, getting a full grip of them, pulling them up.
The hero thought about their broken ankle. About how they wouldn’t be able to walk for weeks, maybe even a few months…? They always concentrated on the pain, rather than the period it took place in. By the time old pain faded, the hero always managed to get themselves into new trouble.
Letting injuries heal had never been an option. The villain let go of them.
It was hard. It was hard to lie there and accept their defeat, the fact that the villain had found out about their secret and more importantly, that they had stopped bruising the hero.
β€œPlease,” the hero sobbed.Β β€œI can’t do this anymore.”
Their nose was running and their tears gathered together, falling down their cheeks like raindrops from the sky. Breathing was hard, their lungs felt frail from these past months and the world came crashing down around them.
When their sobs echoed from the walls, they felt truly defeated, humiliated, and the pain wasn’t enough to forget that.Β 
For a moment, nothing happened. Neither of them said anything. All that was left in the room were the villain’s questions and the quiet sobs the hero made. Feeling overwhelmed by the horribleness of it all,Β the hero rolled themselves into a little ball, crying into their torn sleeve. They were ready for everything. Ready to die, ready to be bled, to be beaten, anything.
β€œHey, easy there.” Once again, the villain combed their fingers through the hero’s hair but this time it was much more gentle and softer, leaving the hero with the taste of bile on their tongue. They braced themselves for new pain, impatiently waiting for the lashing out and the violent actions but nothing of that sort came. Quite the opposite: the villain scratched their scalp softly.Β 
β€œDarling, what happened to you?” Their nails scraped across the hero’s skin, taking their time. It was oddly comfortable. Even though their muscles ached, they looked up at the villain crouching above them.Β 
β€œPlease,” the hero begged again.Β β€œPlease hurt me.”
The villain was silent, biting their inner cheek as if they were considering it. But when they answered with a tenderΒ β€œno,” all hopes the hero had were crushed.Β 
β€œPlease.”
β€œYou’re a mess. Hurting you seems to be what you want. I don’t want to give you what you want,” they explained. They wiped away a tear. Β β€œDon’t mistake this for compassion. This is me controlling your desires. This is me taunting you.” 
They pulled the hero who had exhausted themselves and was completely defenceless into their arms.Β 
β€œAnd this is me wanting information. Why did you say that?” They held them close and embarrassingly enough, it dawned on the hero how touch-starved they were.
β€œI am so alone,” they whispered. They mumbled the words, not even believing their own mouth for saying it. No one was supposed to hear this. Β β€œI am so alone.”
They started sobbing again. It was hopeless. The villain was the only comfort they had β€” even now that they weren’t hurting them.
β€œYou will never be alone with me,” the villain said carefully.Β β€œI’ll make sure of that. Now, come on. Let’s treat your wounds.”
In all honesty, the hero had never done that. They weren’t sure if there were rules to it.
β€œIf this is you taunting me,” the hero said, β€œthen why do you want to treat my wounds?”
The villain gave them a grim look that didn’t leave room for protest.
β€œI’m asking the questions, not you.”
#I assume you meant destructive darling#have you ever watched beauty and the beast and seen the end titles where they thank Howard ashman for his work and have you ever called#your boyfriend after that and you were crying and he was like what happened so you told him that youre sad because Howard started the whole#disney renaissance with his lyrics and he died so young because of aids and his lyrics got a fucking Oscar but at that point he had died#already so he didnt even know that beauty and the beast had become the best Disney movie of all time past present and future and your#boyfriend just has to bite back his laugh because you didnt even know this guy and youre crying over him like#guys the Disney lore is too deep I could go on like this forever#writing snippet#heroxvillain prompt#heroxvillain snippet#heroes and villains#hero#villain#hero x villain#heroxvillain#an answer for an ask#request#whump
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unsolded Β· 5 months
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πšƒπ™°π™³π™² π™Ώπšπ™Ύπ™Όπ™Ώπšƒπš‚
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π™°πš„: π™±πšŽπšŠπšžπšπš’ πšŠπš—πš πšπš‘πšŽ π™±πšŽπšŠπšœπš
β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”
π™ΉπšŠπš‘ πš‘πšŠπšœ πšŠπš•πš πšŠπš’πšœ πš‹πšŽπšŽπš— 𝚊 πšœπšŽπš•πšπš’πšœπš‘ πšŠπš—πš πš’πšπš—πš˜πš›πšŠπš—πš πš–πšŠπš—. π™ΉπšŠπš‘ πš’πšœ πšπš‘πšŽ πš”πš’πš—πš 𝚘𝚏 πšπš‘πšŽ πšπšŠπš‹πš‹πš’πš π™Ίπš’πš—πšπšπš˜πš–. π™·πš’πšœ πš”πš’πš—πšπšπš˜πš– is πšπšŽπšŠπš›πšŽπš πšŠπš—πš πš•πš˜πšŸπšŽπš πš‹πš’ πš’πšπšœ πš™πšŽπš˜πš™πš•πšŽ. π™·πšŽ'𝚜 πšŒπš˜πšŸπšŽπš›πšŽπš πš’πš— πš›πš’πšŒπš‘πšŽπšœ πšŠπš—πš πšπš˜πš•πšπšŽπš— πšŒπšŽπš—πšπš’πš™πšŽπšπšŽπšœ, 𝙸 πš–οΏ½οΏ½πšŠπš—! π™²πšŽπš—πšπšŽπš›πš™πš’πšŽπšŒπšŽπšœ. π™·πšŽ πš‘πšŠπš πšŽπšŸπšŽπš›πš’πšπš‘πš’πš—πš πš‘πšŽ πšŽπšŸπšŽπš› πš πšŠπš—πšπšŽπš! πš„πš—πšπš’πš•...
π™°πš— πš˜πš•πš widow πšŠπšœπš”πšŽπš πšπš˜πš› 𝚊 πš πšŠπš›πš– πš™πš•πšŠπšŒπšŽ 𝚝𝚘 πš›πšŽπšœπš πšπš‘πšŽπš’πš› πš•πš’πšπšπš•πšŽ πš‘πšŽπšŠπš(?). π™ΉπšŠπš‘, πšπš’πšœπšπšžπšœπšπšŽπš πš‹πš’ πšπš‘πšŽ 𝚠𝚊𝚒 πšπš‘πšŽπš’ πš•πš˜πš˜πš”, 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 πšπš‘πšŽπš– 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚒. πšƒπš‘πšŽ πš˜πš•πš πš πš’πšπš˜πš  πšœπš—πšŽπšŽπš›πšŽπš 𝚊𝚝 πšπš‘πš’πšœ πšŠπš—πš πš πšŠπš›πš—πšŽπš πš‘πš’πš– πš—πš˜πš 𝚝𝚘 πš“πšžπšπšπšŽ 𝚊 πš‹πš˜πš˜πš” πš‹πš’ πš’πš'𝚜 πšŒπš˜πšŸπšŽπš›. π™·πšŽ πš•πšŠπšžπšπš‘πšŽπš 𝚊𝚝 πšπš‘πš’πšœ πšŠπš—πš πšœπš‘πšžπš 𝚝𝚘 πšπš˜πš˜πš› πš’πš— πšπš‘πšŽπš’πš› 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎. π™Όπš˜πš–πšŽπš—πšπšœ πš•πšŠπšπšŽπš› 𝚊 𝚐𝚞𝚒 πš πš’πšπš‘ πšŠπš•πš• πšπš‘πšŽ ace πšŒπšŠπš›πšπšœ πš’πš— 𝚊 πšπšŽπšŒπš” 𝚘𝚏 πšŒπšŠπš›πšπšœ 𝚊𝚜 πšπš‘πšŽπš’πš› πš‘πšŽπšŠπš πšœπš‘πš˜πš πšŽπš πšžπš™ πšŠπš—πš πšπš˜πš•πš π™ΉπšŠπš‘ πšπš‘πšŠπš πš‘πšŽ πš‘πšŠπš πšπš‘πšŽ πšŒπš‘πšŠπš—πšŒπšŽ πš‹πšžπš deliberately πš’πšπš—πš˜πš›πšŽπš πš‘πš’πšœ πš πšŠπš›πš—πš’πš—πšπšœ. π™ΉπšŠπš‘ πš™πš•πšŽπšŠπšπšŽπš πš πš’πšπš‘ πšπš‘πšŽ 𝚐𝚘𝚍 πš•πš’πš”πšŽ πšŽπš—πšπš’πšπš’ πš‹πšžπš πš‘πšŽ 𝚠𝚊𝚜 πšπšžπš›πš—πšŽπš 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚒 𝚊𝚜 𝙷𝙴 πšπšžπš›πš—πšŽπš πšπš‘πšŽπš– 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚒.
π™·πšŽ 𝚠𝚊𝚜 πšπšžπš›πš—πšŽπš πš’πš—πšπš˜ 𝚊 πš›πšŠπš‹πš’πš πš›πšŠπš‹πš‹πš’πš πš•πš’πš”πšŽ πš‹πšŽπšŠπšœπš! π™°πš—πš πšŠπš•πš• πšπš‘πš˜πšœπšŽ πš πš‘πš˜ πš πšŽπš›πšŽ πš•πš˜πš’πšŠπš• 𝚝𝚘 πš‘πš’πš– πš πšŽπš›πšŽ πšπšžπš›πš—πšŽπš πš’πš—πšπš˜ πšπš›πšŽπšŠπš”πšœ. π™±πšžπš π™°πš‹πšŽπš•, πšπš‘πšŽ 𝚐𝚞𝚒 πš πš‘πš˜ πšπšžπš›πš—πšŽπš π™ΉπšŠπš‘ πš’πš—πšπš˜ 𝚊 πš‹πšŽπšŠπšœπš. π™³πšŽπšŒπš’πšπšŽπš 𝚝𝚘 πšπš’πšŸπšŽ πš‘πš’πš– 𝚊 πšœπšŽπšŒπš˜πš—πš πšŒπš‘πšŠπš—πšŒπšŽ πš‹πš’ πšπš’πšŸπš’πš—πš π™ΉπšŠπš‘ 𝚊 πšπš˜πš•πšπšŽπš— πš”πšŽπš’. π™°πš—πš πšžπš—πšπš’πš• πš‘πšŽ πšπšžπš›πš—πšŽπš 𝟸𝟸 πšŠπš—πš πšπš‘πšŽ πš”πšŽπš’ 𝚠𝚊𝚜 πšŠπš•πš• πš›πšžπšœπšπš’, πš‘πšŽ πš πš˜πšžπš•πš 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚒 𝚊 πš‹πšŽπšŠπšœπš. π™°πš—πš πšπš‘πšŽ only 𝚠𝚊𝚒 𝚝𝚘 πš‹πš›πšŽπšŠπš” πšπš‘πšŽ πšœπš™πšŽπš•πš• πš’πšœ 𝚝𝚘 πšπšŠπš•πš• πš’πš— πš•πš˜πšŸπšŽ... π™°πš—πš, πš‘πšŠπšŸπšŽ πšπš‘πšŽπš’πš› πš•πš˜πšŸπšŽ πš’πš— πš›πšŽπšπšžπš›πš—.
π™±πšžπš, πš πš‘πš˜ πšŒπš˜πšžπš•πš πš•πš˜πšŸπšŽ 𝚊 πš›πšŠπš‹πš’πš πš‹πšŽπšŠπšœπš? πš†πšŽπš•πš•, πš–πšŠπš’πš‹πšŽ 𝚊 πšπš’πš›πš•, πš πš‘πš˜ 𝚠𝚊𝚜 πš‹πš˜πš›πš— πš πš’πšπš‘ 𝚊 heart 𝚘𝚏 πšπš˜πš•πš... π™°πš—πš πšπš‘πšŽ πš‹πš›πšŠπš’πš— 𝚘𝚏 πšπš‘πšŽ πšœπš–πšŠπš›πšπšŽπšœπš πš™πšŽπš›πšœπš˜πš— πš’πš— πšπš‘πšŽ πš πš˜πš›πš•πš.
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π™²π™°πš‚πšƒ:
πšƒπš‘πšŽ π™±πšŽπšŠπšœπš πš πš’πš•πš• πš‹πšŽ πš™πš•πšŠπš’πšŽπš πš‹πš’ π™ΉπšŠπš‘
π™±πšŽπš•πš•πšŽ πš πš’πš•πš• πš‹πšŽ πš™πš•πšŠπš’πšŽπš πš‹πš’ πšπšŠπšπšŠπšπš‘πšŠ
π™ΆπšŠπšœπšπš˜πš— πš πš’πš•πš• πš‹πšŽ πš™πš•πšŠπš’πšŽπš πš‹πš’ π™ΊπšŠπšžπšπš–πš˜
π™»πšŽπšπš˜πšž πš πš’πš•πš• πš‹πšŽ πš™πš•πšŠπš’πšŽπš πš‹πš’ π™ΆπšŠπš—πšπš•πšŽ
π™»πšžπš–πš’πšŽΜ€πš›πšŽ πš πš’πš•πš• πš‹πšŽ πš™πš•πšŠπš’πšŽπš πš‹πš’ π™²πšŠπš’πš—πšŽ
π™²πš˜πšπšœπš πš˜πš›πšπš‘ πš πš’πš•πš• πš‹πšŽ πš™πš•πšŠπš’πšŽπš πš‹πš’ πš‰πš˜πš˜πš‹πš•πšŽ
π™ΌπšŠπšžπš›πš’πšŒπšŽ πš πš’πš•πš• πš‹πšŽ πš™πš•πšŠπš’πšŽπš πš‹πš’ π™Ίπš’πš—πšπšŽπš›
π™ΌπšŠπšπšŠπš–πšŽ πš†πšŠπš›πšπš›πš˜πš‹πšŽ πš πš’πš•πš• πš‹πšŽ πš™πš•πšŠπš’πšŽπš πš‹πš’ πš€πšžπšŽπšŽπš—πšŽπš›
π™Όπš›πšœ π™Ώπš˜πšπšπšœ πš πš’πš•πš• πš‹πšŽ πš™πš•πšŠπš’πšŽπš πš‹πš’ πšƒπš‘πšŽ π™Άπš•πš˜πš’πš—πš” πš€πšžπšŽπšŽπš—
π™²πš‘πš’πš™ πš πš’πš•πš• πš‹πšŽ πš™πš•πšŠπš’πšŽπš πš‹πš’ πšƒπš‘πšŽ π™Άπš•πš˜πš’πš—πš”
π™Ώπš•πšžπš–πš–πšŽπš πš πš’πš•πš• πš‹πšŽ πš™πš•πšŠπš’πšŽπš πš‹πš’ π™Ώπš˜πš–πš—πš’
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π™³πš’πšπšπšŽπš›πšŽπš—πš π™΄πš—πšπš’πš—πšπšœ:
π™΄πš—πšπš’πš—πš 𝟷) πšƒπš‘πšŽ πšœπšŠπš–πšŽ πšŽπš—πšπš’πš—πš 𝚊𝚜 πšπš‘πšŽ πš˜πš›πš’πšπš’πš—πšŠπš• π™±πšŽπšŠπšžπšπš’ πšŠπš—πš πšπš‘πšŽ π™±πšŽπšŠπšœπš π™΅πš’πš•πš–.
π™΄πš—πšπš’πš—πš 𝟸) πšƒπš‘πšŽ πšŽπš—πš πš’πšœ πšπš‘πšŽ πšœπšŠπš–πšŽ 𝚊𝚜 π™΄πš—πšπš’πš—πš 𝟷 πš‹πšžπš πš’πš πšπš’πš—πš’πšœπš‘πšŽπšœ 𝚘𝚏𝚏 πš πš’πšπš‘ π™²πšŠπš’πš—πšŽ πšœπš‘πš˜πšžπšπš’πš—πš β€œπ™²πš„πšƒ!β€œ πšŠπš—πš 𝚠𝚎 πšŠπš›πšŽ πš‹πšŠπšŒπš” 𝚝𝚘 πšπš‘πšŽ πš˜πš›πš’πšπš’πš—πšŠπš• π™°πš„ 𝚘𝚏 πšƒπ™°π™³π™².
π™΄πš—πšπš’πš—πš 𝟹) π™ΉπšŠπš‘ 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚊 πš‹πšŽπšŠπšπšœ πš‹πšžπš πšπšžπš›πš— πšπšŠπšπšŠπšπš‘πšŠ πš’πš—πšπš˜ 𝚊 πšπšŠπšπšπš˜πš•πš• πšŠπš—πš πšπš‘πšŽπš’ πš‹πšŽ πšπš›πšŽπšŠπš”πšœ πšπš˜πšπšŽπšπš‘πšŽπš›.
π™΄πš—πšπš’πš—πš 𝟺) π™ΉπšŠπš‘ πšπš’πšŽπšœ πšŠπš—πš πšπšŠπšπšŠπšπš‘πšŠ πš’πšœ πšπš˜πš›πšŒπšŽπš 𝚝𝚘 πš–πšŠπš›πš›πš’ π™ΊπšŠπšžπšπš–πš˜ πš πš‘πš’πš•πšŽ π™Ίπš’πš—πšπšŽπš› πš’πšœ πš’πš— πšπš‘πšŽ πš–πšŽπš—πšπšŠπš• πš‘πš˜πšœπš™πš’πšπšŠπš• πšŠπš—πš πšŽπšŸπšŽπš›πš’πš˜πš—πšŽ πš πš‘πš˜ πš•πš’πšŸπšŽπš πš’πš— πšπš‘πšŽ πšŒπšŠπšœπšπš•πšŽ πšŠπš•πšœπš˜ πšπš’πšŽπšœ(?)
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πšƒπš‘πš’πšœ πš’πšœ πš“πšžπšœπš 𝚊 πš™πš›πš˜πš–πš™πš πšŠπš—πš πš’πšœ πšπš˜πš› πšŠπš—πš’πš˜πš—πšŽ 𝚝𝚘 𝚞𝚜𝚎. π™½πš˜ πš—πšŽπšŽπš πšπš˜πš› πšŒπš›πšŽπšπš’πš 𝚊𝚜 πšπš‘πš’πšœ πš’πšœ πšŠπš•πš• πš“πšžπšœπš πšπš˜πš› πšπšžπš— πšπš˜πš› πš–πšŽ.
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#bunnydoll#tadc#tadc showtime#tadc zooble#tadc gangle#tadc kinger#tadc ragatha#tadc caine#tadc jax#tadc pomni#tadc queenie#kinger x queenie#pomni x caine#jax x ragatha#the amazing digital circus#tadc abel#beauty and the beast#writer prompts
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the-flower-named-fire Β· 6 months
Text
A couple like the Beauty and the Beast Trope, but you don't truly which is which
In one side, one have a terrifying appearance and the other is well know for their beauty
But on the other hand...
The abominable one is good at heart, even if they are hated by their looks
While the fair one is a dreaded villain with awful feats, loved by their charming personality and stunning features
Because of this, both of them think the other is the 'Beauty', believing themselves the 'Beast' and unworthy of their beloved
#beauty and the beast#writing prompts#prompt#writing idea#writing romance#romance tropes#heroes and villains#villain x hero#hero x villain#hero x supervillain#Hero with Bad Publicity
88 notes Β· View notes
thepenultimateword Β· 7 months
Text
Spooktober Prompt #15
The monster turned his clawed hands back and forth. As the realization hit, all his fur stood on end, and he pawed desperately at his face.
β€œWhat did you do to me?” His voice squeaked in sharp contrast to the violence of his eruption.
The witch blew out her spell candle with a flourish. β€œTaught you a little respect. At least I hope so. I did get the impression it may be some time before it takes.”
#witch#witchcraft#spell#curse#prompt#creative writing#writing prompt#short prompt#writblr#writeblr#fantasy#fantasci#31 days of halloween#31 days of spooktober#Spooktober#Spooktober prompts#beauty and the beast#honestly always thought it would be cool to have a beauty and the beast adaptation where the beast and the witch get together
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alright y’all, gather round
Jeeves and Wooster Beauty and the Beast AU where Bertie is the Beast and instead of being mean to Jeeves (Belle), he’s just a clumsy dummy who happens to create loud crashing noises that scare people. He didn’t kidnap anyone but instead had them as invited guests but misunderstanding led to them thinking he was terrifying. So when Jeeves comes, Bertie tries to hide himself away thinking that it’ll just be like every other time and (spoilers) it’s not.
Uncle Tom is Cogsworth and Uncle George is LumiΓ¨re. Aunt Dahlia is Mrs. Potts and they’re scheming to break the curse so they don’t have to be objects anymore and the other objects in the castle are some members of the Drones (like Gussie is Chip). The previous people that Bertie β€œkidnapped” are the fiancΓ©s and Gaston/the rest of the townspeople are members of the Ganymede club, fiancΓ©s, and families of the fiancΓ©.
The witch is obviously Aunt Agatha.
#enjoy the chaos that leaves my brain and that i’m not confident enough to write#if anyone wants to take up this as like a prompt tag me#writing ideas#writing prompt#fanfic prompt#jeeves and wooster fanfic#beauty and the beast#beauty and the beast AU#jeeves and wooster#bertie wooster#reginald jeeves#jooster#jooster fic ideas
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annaofthenorthernlights Β· 3 months
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@fluffbruary
finally... a little late, but hey, I hope you enjoy!
day 01 - rescue
This chapter also covers the prompt "would you rather be raised from the death or watch somebody die" for the Halloween Flash Bingo at @slumberpartybingo
and for @thefamilybruno because - well - it´s a Gaston-redemption au... 🧑
#fluffbruary 2024#fluffbruary#day 01#prompt rescue#@slumberpartybingo#halloween flash bingo#fall to rise#batb1991#beauty and the beast 1991#gaston#prince adam#belle#post-canon divergence#gaston redemption au#fanfiction#batb fanfic
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fate-magical-girls Β· 5 months
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Fantasty story idea: A cranky fairy gets snubbed at more than one royal family's birthday party and decides to crash the parties. Unfortunately, they get confused in their anger and the sheer noise level that they mix up their curses on the royal children. So the rude little prince who refused to mind his manners is cursed to be stabbed by a thorn and die, and the newborn princess is cursed to become a great and horrible beast. After they realize what they did, the fairy quickly patches in a true love's kiss caveat and skedaddles before things can get more awkward.
The affected families figure it'll be okay if they just engage their kids. Fast forward some years and the prince and princess decide they should make out and pre-emptively prevent the curse...
Which doesn't work. The princess turns into a beast even during the kiss. When she begs the prince to kiss her again, he shows his true colors and calls her scary and disgusting, and in running away from her, slips down the stairs, crashes into the royal florist, and is pricked by enough thorns to put him in a coma.
The princess, now a beast, needs a cure, so she goes on the search for one and runs smack into a fancy castle garden filled with monster taxidermy, and the master of the place is a princess (sister of the king) whose passions are biology and taxidermy. Grouchy, prideful, misanthropic, and creepy in a "I like to observe, catalogue, and then preserve creatures as samples" sort of way, she's fascinated with the beast curse, and decides to work on a way to transfer it to herself so she can conduct experiments with nobody bothering her. And the fact that this beast is smart, sweet-natured, and a great conversation partner and general joy to be around doesn't figure into it at all, or so she says.
Mixed up and mismatched fractured fairy tale
#sleeping beauty#beauty and the beast#writing#writing prompt#fantasy#prompts#fairy tale
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garr9988 Β· 1 year
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I want a story where, through some twists of fate, The Beast, Erik/The Phantom, and Quasimodo/The Hunchback end up getting swapped around and raised in each other's stories. Not necessarily origin-wise (Quasimodo in Beast's story isn't cursed to be a hunchback, etc.).
The Phantom of Notre Dame: Erik gets taken in by Frollo and becomes the most talented voice in the Notre Dame church choir. His voice echoes and booms through the perfect acoustics. Maybe he's "normal" enough to not be kept hidden by Frollo like Quasimodo and he gets some more human interaction, or maybe he's still kept hidden and nobody sees where this beautiful voice is coming from. Maybe the bells deafen him and he plays the church organ, or longs for someone whose voice vibrates with the church acoustics and through his heart.
The Beast of the Opera: The Beast lives beneath the Palais Garnier and is a regular actor in plays requiring a monster, but mysteriously no one ever sees him putting on or taking off his costume. Those in the audience are revolted at the realism of his hideous form, but find his acting moves them to tears, watching him bemoan his sorry state or long for love. Could a story on stage give them permission to love a beast?
Beauty and the Hunchback: Quasimodo, living alone in an abandoned wealthy estate (or perhaps adopted by its owners and left alone when they died), takes pity on the merchant father and generously allows him to spend the night and even take a rose for his youngest daughter. Then, being so lonely, even offers he bring his youngest daughter (or even his whole family) to live there with him. Already being kind, the enchantress hasn't cursed him - perhaps she blesses him for his generosity, or even ends up cursing Beauty's selfish older sisters instead.
#beauty and the beast#phantom of the opera#hunchback of notre dame#erik phantom#beast#quasimodo#original#story prompt#writing prompt#creative writing#these poor french men#give them love won't you?#they're french for god's sake they need all they can get#French fusion#the phantom of notre dame#the beast of the opera#beauty and the hunchback
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chasingmidnights Β· 2 years
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For the Greater Good
Title: For the Greater GoodΒ 
Summary: What most people don’t know is that Belle had a younger step-sister. Another thing that most people don’t know is that you would do anything to protect your family and your village. So, when a man by the name of Rumplestiltskin shows up to make a deal to help save your village, he requires something in return. You or Belle. You immediately offer to go with him, telling him to take you instead. Intrigued, he happily accepts.Β 
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Warnings: not sure if there is any really; just Rumplestiltskin being Rumple; maybe some slight abuse; mentions of death of a parent; angst; again you’re responsible for what you read, I just post here.Β 
Word Count: 1,854
You were busy cleaning Rumple’s mansion, one of the many chores he has bestowed upon you when you arrived. As you were dusting one of the bookshelves, you hummed a little tune your mother used to sing to you before she passed. You were so caught up in what you were doing that you had failed to realize that Rumple had joined you in the library.
β€œWhat is that that you’re humming?” 
Needless to say that you were quite startled when you heard his high-pitched, accented voice fill the room. You place your hand on your chest and the other on top of the ladder to steady yourself. You take in a couple of deep breaths as you look down at your new master. You watch him as he crosses his arms in front of him and holds his chin in between his thumb and index finger.Β 
β€œWell? I’m waiting.” He inquires again, this time in a sing-songy type voice.Β 
β€œIt’s a song that my mom used to sing before she passed away. One of the very few things that I remember about her.” You finally reply, you cast your gaze down to the floor. A moment of sadness taking over you at the thought of your mother. β€œI can stop if you want me to.” You lift your gaze to meet Rumple’s.Β 
He’s such a difficult man to read but you have a feeling that he’s mulling it over. After a few moments of an intense silence, he finally answers. Waving the hand that was once on his chin as he does. β€œNo, I want you to sing it.” He takes a seat in a nearby armchair, crossing his legs in a dramatic way.Β 
You're surprised by his answer. β€œI’m sorry, what?” 
He props his elbow up on the arm rest and waves his hand again, his voice a little more demanding. β€œYou heard me. Sing.” 
You turn to face the bookshelves again and take a deep breath. Your nerves are setting in. You typically didn’t sing in front of others. It’s not that you didn’t sing badly, it’s just that you were pretty shy and got stage fright easily. Before you know it though, the words are coming out.Β 
β€œHow does a moment last forever?Β 
Β How can a story never die?Β 
Β It is love we must hold onto
Β Never easy, but we tryΒ 
Β Sometimes our happiness is captured
Β Somehow, our time and place stand still
Β Love lives on inside our hearts and always will…” 
You continue to sing the song, hoping that it pleases Rumple. You try not to think about what could happen if he doesn’t find it enjoyable. The last few lines of the song fall from your lips and you take a moment for yourself. A tear slides down your cheek and you quickly wipe it away. Suddenly, the sound of clapping fills the room causing you to lift your head and look over at Rumple. A sigh of relief slips past your lips. From the time that you’ve gotten here you’ve learned that the man is very unpredictable. He stops clapping a moment later and the smile slowly fades from his face. His face contorts into curiosity and his head tilts the side.
β€œI think I’d like my tea now.” Rumple orders, his voice deeper than from before.Β 
β€œO-of course sir, right away.” You stutter at your words at first before quickly climbing down the ladder that you were on.Β 
You know he doesn’t like to be kept waiting so you rush off to the kitchen as soon as you step off of the ladder. Last time that he felt like you were taking too long, he locked you away in a cell for two days. You made haste at your task at hand, gathering everything up that you needed and setting it on the tray. You handled the fine china with extra care, making sure not to put a chip in any of it. Once the water had come to a boil, you quickly made fresh tea for Rumple. However, before you have a chance to leave the kitchen, Rumple appears behind you causing you to jump.Β 
β€œYou’re a jumpy one.” He comments, his high-pitched voice returning, a giggle coming out of him as he finishes.Β 
β€œI-I was just about to bring this out to you sir, everything’s all done.” You reply. However, you miss noticing the tea cup next to your hand and end up knocking it over. You hold in your breath, hoping that it doesn’t fall to the ground. But just your luck, the tea cup tumbles off of the wooden countertop and lands on the concrete floor. You hear the cup crack as you squat down to pick it up. As you turn the cup around in your hands to examine it, you do in fact notice a chip in the cup. You stand up and your nerves begin to set in. β€œI-I’m afraid that there’s a small chip in the cup. B-but you can barely notice it, see?” 
You hold out the tea cup to Rumple to show him, making eye contact as you do. You cringe inwardly as you see the stern look on his face, which causes him to look even more menacing. His eyes narrow in on the tea cup for a brief moment before his whole facial expression changes and his mood lightens. β€œNo matter, it’s just a cup dearie.” 
You finally let out the breath that you were holding and a small smile curls up on your lips. Setting the chipped cup to the side, you grab a new cup and begin to make Rumple’s tea to his liking. You hand him the tea cup and he accepts the cup, instantly taking a sip.Β 
β€œSo, tell me dearie, why’d you do it?” Rumple inquires, as he removes the tea cup from his lips.
β€œDo what?” You answer, scrunching up your face in confusion while tilting your head to the side.Β 
β€œWhy did you,” he points his index finger at you. β€œVolunteer to save your village. Why not let your sister come instead.” He asks again, quirking up an eyebrow. β€œSurely you’ve heard all of the despicable things about me?” 
β€œOh, well, I guess I did it to protect her. So she wouldn’t have to bear this.” You answer as you go back over to the kettle and tray, cleaning a few things up.Β 
You feel uneasy as he eyes you up and down. β€œBut she’s your older sister, shouldn’t it be the other way around?” He does a little twirl of the finger at the last part as he continues to drill questions at you.Β 
You shrug your shoulders in response. β€œI suppose but she’s always doing the right thing and taking care of me. I guess I just thought that maybe for once it’s my turn to return the favor. Plus, I couldn’t stand to see those horrible beasts ruin our village.” 
β€œSo, you have a sense of dignity to your village then? Hmm?” Rumple inquires, before taking another sip of tea.Β 
β€œYeah, I guess so.” You nod your head slightlyΒ 
Over the next few days, you grew a bit more comfortable at the mansion. When you were done with your chores, you would either read in the library or do a bit of exploring around the mansion. Rumple would disappear for hours or sometimes longer but you didn’t mind, you liked being alone. Not to mention, being in the presence of Rumple sets your nerves on edge. On one particular day, you had gotten your chores done and you were feeling a bit restless, so you decided to explore a part of the mansion you hadn’t explored yet. The West Wing.Β 
As you open another door, your eyes grow wide in shock at what your eyes are seeing. You rub your eyes to make sure that your eyes aren’t deceiving you. The room is set up for a child and you hesitantly step into the room. A small part of you feels that you shouldn’t be in here but your curiosity is stronger. You take in every inch of the room that it has to offer. A small, child size bed is placed on one side of the room with a bedside table next to it. A wardrobe rests from across the bedroom doorway, undoubtedly filled with children’s clothes. On the opposite side of the room from the bed is a small wooden desk. Something catches your attention on the bedside table so you walk over to check it out. You lift up the piece of parchment paper and a gasp slips out of you. On it, is a sketch of a young boy, it was a beautifully drawn image. Every detail was sketched with perfection and precision. You wondered who the artist was. You feel the bed dip underneath as you take a seat on the edge of it. You had no idea that Rumple had a son, a mix of emotions flooded through you. You wondered where he was or what happened to him because you definitely haven’t seen a young boy around. At the end of the bed, you notice a folded up piece of clothing and just as you’re about to reach for it, a screaming Rumplestiltskin stops you in your tracks.Β 
β€œWhat are you doing in here?! Who said you were allowed to come in here?!” 
You’ve never seen him so upset before and you had to refrain yourself from wincing with how his voice screeched. As you looked at your master, his face was twisted in anger and he spat with every word that came from him. His entire body was shaking with how upset he was with you. Before you can get a grasp on what was happening, he had a tight grip on your upper arm and he was dragging you out of the room. You tried to get out of his tight grip but it was useless, he was much stronger than you. It didn’t take long before you were being tossed into a cell. A grunt escapes you as you land on your hands and knees. The slamming of the cell door catches your attention and you’re on your feet in an instant, rushing over to the now locked cell door. The clicking of the locks confirms that it is in fact locked.Β 
β€œYou can’t leave me in here!” You cry out to Rumple.Β 
Suddenly, he was in your face, the only thing separating you from him were the bars on the small window on the door. His voice is dark and still filled with rage, seething in fact, as he replies. β€œYou’re mine now! So watch me!” 
With that, you were left alone. You slid down to the floor with your body against the door still as numerous thoughts fill your brain. Why did you have to open your big mouth and volunteer? Maybe you should’ve just let Belle come instead. If this was going to be your life now, you begin to wonder if doing this for the greater good was worth it.
#for the greater good#once upon a time#rumplestiltskin#ouat rumple#rumplestilskin x reader#belles sister#beauty and the beast references#beauty and the beast#writing challenge#october writing challenge#angst prompts#tales of a whumpie newbie#step-sister!reader
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prompts-by-anjali Β· 6 months
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β€œCan you lift your arm?” the young cartographer asked the ferocious beast, who lay against the chaise, maimed and bleeding profusely on the marble floor.
The beast obliged with a grunt, raising their behemoth of an arm, claws and all, high enough to allow the cartographer closer to their wound. The cartographer pressed the wet cloth against the bloody slashes. The beast roared. For a moment, the cartographer feared the claws would rip into him and throw him across the room. However, death did not come. When the cartographer opened his eyes to continue his work, he saw the eyes of the beast on them, narrowed with determination, and with their claws sunk deep into the cushioned armrests of the chaise.
It was as if every last drop of the beast’s effort had been placed in keeping themselves from harming the young cartographer. At his shocked expression, the beast grunted.
β€œYou may be my prisoner, boy, but you will not die while dressing my wounds.”
#beauty and the beast inspired!#writing prompts#dialogue prompt#character dialogue#writing resources#writing#creative writing#dialogue#dialogue ideas#dialogue prompts#imagine your otp
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authormikamathews Β· 7 months
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Psyche- Mother of the Human Soul
Β We all know this story, a woman is captured by a horrible beast and is forced to fall in love with him over time... but what if that beast was a god and the woman was more beautiful that Aphrodite? What if the God was invisible and forced to hide his true self to protect said woman from Aphrodite's jealousy, and as a result of her rightful curiosity, she seeks to look at her husband as he sleeps causing her life to crumble around her?Β 
This was the story of Psyche, the most beautiful woman of her time. A woman of humility and decency, forced into terrible circumstances by beauty she had never asked for. She was so beautiful people worshiped her for crying out loud, she never asked for that! She was literally forced to marry Eros the god of Romantic Love and Desire, son of Ares and Aphrodite. Also known to modern people as Cupid, a god most other gods feared even Zeus.Β 
After she lost her husband and lavish life, she tried to reclaim her husband only to be found by Aphrodite! Abused by Aphrodite, who was even more jealous and angry than before, the actually and literally pregnant Psyche ( Yes, Aphrodite abused a pregnant lady!) was forced into four terrible, impossible tasks. Several beings helped her, from ants to the gods themselves, but the stress still held their sway on her and by the time she was at her final task, taking beauty from Persephone, she was so eager to be better for her husband only to be killed by whatever Persephone placed into the box of beauty.
Revived by a freed Eros, who had been hidden away by Aphrodite, she was made into a literal goddess by Zeus where she became the Goddess of the Human Soul, which is why the word Psyche is used to describe the mind now away.Β 
I have got to say, for a society that focuses solely on the bigger gods, we are so sleeping on a goddess of incredible strength and power. As a pregnant lady who had been tormented by a goddess, she managed to complete so many difficult tasks, including entering the Underworld itself, and still managed to succeed! It was only when the machinations of cruel immortals interfered that she failed, and even then she could never have anticipated them!
She could and should be seen as a right strong woman to admire, however since I love to modernize the stories of the past... I would have her scold her husband for forcing her into the situation entirely, Aphrodite for attacking her while pregnant and judging her for her beauty and the mortals worshiping her which she never asked for. A better story would be her divorcing her husband, finding her own peace or at least having her husband make amends, making Aphrodite's controlling abusive behavior the real villain of the story since even Eros had to answer to his mother...Β 
We need to stop sleeping on this story and play with it, it was intense, beautiful and would have been a great tale for us all to learn from!
So... yeah!
#indie author#queer author#authormikamathews#indiebooks#book writing#book blogs#queer fantasy#Cupid#Psyche#goddess#greek gods#greek mythology#aphrodite#beauty and the beast#fiction writing#writers#writing#writing prompt
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twisting-echo Β· 3 months
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Belle x Sulley Week Prompts!
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Belle x Sulley Week will start on March 22nd and end on April 12th. I know IRL stuff can get in the way or be busy at times, so hopefully that's enough time for everyone who is participating to get their prompts done. But if you're not finished with your prompt, just DM me, and I'll make sure your submission still gets seen.
You can be as creative with the prompts as much as you like; just remember to have fun doing them.
Your submissions can be fan-art, fanfiction, collages, moodboards, edits, or whatever art forms you're comfortable with.
Please make sure to tag me @twisting-echo and my friend @frie-ice when you post your submissions, and please use the #belle x sulley week hashtag in one of the first of five hashtags you may use.
Alright, everyone, have fun! I can't wait to see what you come up with! (⁠*⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠)⁠/β ο½žβ™‘
#belle x sulley week#ship week#crossover ship#crossover couple#ship week prompts#belle x sulley#sulley x belle#james p sullivan#disney belle#belle disney#princess belle#disney mirrorverse#kingdom hearts#disney speedstorm#disney dreamlight valley#alternate universe#monsters inc#beauty and the beast#monsters university#disney heroes battle mode#disney lorcana#disney crossover#mlp#ponified#please reblog
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free-for-all-fics Β· 8 months
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Phantom of the Opera and Beauty and the Beast Crossover AU Prompt! This was going to be a much, much, much shorter prompt, but then inspiration hit me very hard and it got very long, but it still doesn’t feel quite right for me to call this a full fic or oneshot. If you’re inspired by any ideas presented here, pls tag me and I’d love to read it! 🌹❀️πŸ₯€
The faerie hesitated. She knew tradition demanded that she curse the newborn prince for not being invited to the christening, but it wasn't his fault the messenger fell off his horse. She decided to get creative with the wording. Thus, instead of being cursed to die, Erik, the firstborn son to the king of France, was cursed with a deformed face. The prince would become more beautiful with every awful deed he committed, but the curse wouldn’t be broken until he found someone who could love him for his heart and marry him. He was disowned from the royal family and disinherited from the throne, decried as a β€œdemon” or β€œliving corpse”. He grew up with no knowledge of his true lineage and was instead raised by the servants and kept in the walls. The queen was fed lies that Erik died shortly after the christening, and she mourned for her baby boy. She never fully recovered from what she believed to be her firstborn son’s death, but later gave birth to another son, Prince Adam.
The king was known for ruling his kingdom with a cruel iron fist and raised the young prince to be selfish and arrogant, even forbidding the servants from ever questioning or objecting to his ways of raising his son. The prince used to live in the castle with his beloved mother as a sweet child until she died from an illness, which gave his cruel father the opportunity to harden his heart to become a more arrogant but effective ruler of the kingdom. He showed no concern over the loss of the queen, and led his son away from his wife's deathbed without any emotion. Erik became the court composer and exhibited a megalomaniacal personality, convinced he was a genius of music. He considered himself to be great and was never stingy with a compliment for himself. He was lugubrious and had not seemed to share the joys of the castellans and other courtesans. Erik spent much of his time isolating himself in the dark, too busy with concertos and operas of his own composition that he claimed would bring the house down.
β€œBravo, bravo! Encore!”
β€œYou approve?”
β€œOh, maestro, it's magnificent!”
β€œOh, come along. It's merely an opera...to bring the house down! Yes, I know...now, in the midst of my crescendo, I thought I heard merriment outside the window. Have a look see, will you?”
He had a deep hatred towards happiness or, at the very least, happy songs, as he preferred sad, depressing, mournful music. He was extremely superior, cunning, powerful, intelligent, and a bit misanthropic, as he considered humanity to be overrated. Though he was dashingly handsome with a debonair smile on the outside, he considered himself not only an Angel of Music, but a God of Deformity. Despite his face being perfect, he always wore a mask of impassivity when playing music for the public. He was surrounded by beautiful and wealthy women who vied for his attentions, but they were often incredibly shallow or boring, only looking to get into his bed for the night. He longed for more stimulating conversation, full of passion and intellect. The only way to keep himself sane while suffering through idle chat and pleasantries was to escape through his life’s work, treating his music as incomplete masterpieces he was eager to finish.
Following the king’s death, Erik learned of his lineage and the conditions of his curse, but never revealed these truths to Prince Adam. It was better for him to be a best friend and advisor to the prince, rather than a brother and prince himself. He blamed his father for his disfigurement, but he was secretly scared of his corpse and had refused to attend the funeral. As much as he hated the man, maybe his father was right when he used to say that ignorance is bliss.
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In another kingdom, the prince fell ill. The widowed king dearly loved his last surviving son and heir, and doctors tried everything but he grew weaker and weaker. They told the king about a mythical rose that witches were rumored to use to cure any illness. The king searched the whole kingdom for the rose to no avail, and his campaign soon became a gruesome witch hunt. His path was lined with the witches he had slain, but the rose was nowhere to be found. Exhausted, bloody, and at his wit's end, the king came to a witch's house on the outskirts of his kingdom. He fell to his knees, begging the witch to help cure his son, and she agreed. The witch explained that the rose held tremendous power that could only very carefully be used for good, and instructed he only use a single petal. Using the whole bloom would only invite death. The prince began to recover, but discontent at the royal line had grown in the kingdom following the king’s bloody campaign. The next day, the king found his son murdered in his bed, and the last light holding his darkness at bay was snuffed out.
Heartbroken, the king turned to the bloom which had promised life, and instead saw it as an escape from his suffering. Lonely and depressed, he felt that all hope was lost after so much tragedy. He was too old to remarry and believed himself to have been cursed. He left his castle with nothing but the rose in hand, and wandered off into the icy wastes of a cruel and bitter winter, hoping to die somewhere his body could never be found and thus end the curse he believed he was put under. Instead, he came across the corpse of a woman who had frozen to death underneath a dead man hanging from a noose. In her arms, he found you, a still living baby girl who became blind due to being out in the elements. In his madness, you bore a remarkable resemblance to his late queen. He believed you to be his daughter and of his blood, so he took you in. The witch, having come to visit the king and the prince, looked at the nightmarish scene in despair. She raised a mountain on top of the king, erecting a dome of rock around the castle to imprison him and prevent him from wreaking further havoc across the land.
You grew up to be a virtuous, graceful beauty, but since you’d been blind since birth, no one had ever told you nor did you know that you were a princess. You lived in a beautiful enclosed garden within the king's castle, secluded from the world, in the care of loyal servants. The king feared you’d be targeted and killed if you were to ever learn you were the princess, so you never learned the truth until you came of age and were betrothed to marry Prince Adam of France. You were raised unaware of the circumstances surrounding the tragedies the king suffered or of his madness. You knew nothing of the witch. As far as you knew, as the daughter of the king, you never expected to inherit anything until a tragic accident caused the deaths of all your brothers and made you his sole legitimate heir. Now he expected you to act as a proper princess after being absent from your whole life.
You were a bright spot of happiness within the castle. You had a lovely singing voice and cared about everyone, living or dead, and everyone loved you in return. Your attendants would bring flowers and sing with you. Your garden was beautiful and full of a wide variety of blossoming wildflowers, except for roses. No matter what color roses were planted in your garden, they all turned out black in the end and smelled like death. Roses had become so rare that they were the most sought after flower in your kingdom, sold at high prices in black markets, under guard in national museums, etc.
You often declared your sadness, and your vague sense that you were missing something important that other people could experience. Your father insisted that you mustn’t discover your blindness and that your betrothed wasn’t to find out about this until after you were married. Your father had you and Prince Adam married by proxy before you had even met. A further ceremonial wedding and festivities followed by the ritual bedding would come later.
Your family had passed down a heirloom for generations: A hand mirror of medium size, framed in pure silver with ornate vine scrollwork. It was tradition that, upon their wedding day, each inheritor must look into the mirror at least once. It was said to be an enchanted mirror that could show you your soulmate, but your reflection never changed when it was your turn to look. However, ever since you’d looked into the mirror, you’d been haunted by a pale and faceless man that only you could see when you closed your eyes. He was there, behind your eyelids and inside your mind. The man moved in slow motion and, when you slept at night, you didn’t dream.
Your new husband, Prince Adam, arrived at the court with his best friend, Erik. The prince and Erik were warned by your loyal servants not to speak of light, colors, or anything of the sort with you. Wanting to bring you a wedding gift, the king arrived with a famed Persian physician who stated that you could be cured, but the physical cure would only work if you were psychologically prepared by being made aware of your own blindness. You appreciated the thought, but you had no will to see as others did and refused your father’s gift. You were born this way and loved yourself as you were. You believed you could see, you just saw things differently or saw so much more. The king supported your decision and refused the treatment, fearing for your happiness if the cure should fail after you’d learned what you were missing.
Erik found the entrance to your secret garden, ignoring the sign which threatened death to anyone who entered. He stumbled upon you singing without realizing who you were and instantly fell in love. Prince Adam, astounded by his friend’s behavior, was convinced you were a sorceress who had bewitched Erik. Prince Adam ordered him to leave but Erik was too entranced, so he departed with the promise he’d be back to save him.
β€œI am Maestro Erik, court composer and your most humble servant.”
You sang a magnificent duet together. Erik, who asked you to give him a certain flower as a keepsake, realized you were blind when you twice offered him different flowers with similar scents. You wished more than anything for a rose, but only black roses grew here and you didn’t know why. You had no concept of light, vision, or blindness. You fell in love with Erik after he explained light and color to you, believing him to be the faceless man from the mirror and your soulmate. When Prince Adam returned with your father, Erik admitted to seeing the warning sign at the garden entrance. The furious king threatened to execute Erik for revealing the truth to you, but spared him after Prince Adam realized you were his wife. He spoke for Erik, vouching for his character. The king relented, and let Erik return to France with you and your new husband.
Though Erik reciprocated your love, he felt conflicted and unworthy of you because of his curse and his deformities. He exclusively wore masks that covered his entire face. He only told you the color of his eyes, but nothing more. You loved him anyway, but you were born to privilege and with that came specific obligations. You were forced by your father to marry Prince Adam and, although you were spared the brunt of his cruelty, you still had to live year after year witnessing how monstrous your new husband was. From mistreating the castle servants to taxing the townspeople too high while doing nothing to help ease their hardships and burdens, you regretted your arranged marriage.
Despite being a princess, you were still a woman in a man’s world and could do nothing to free yourself from this loveless and miserable union. You and Prince Adam may have consummated your marriage out of duty, but you never shared his bed after that night and kept to separate rooms. If you had to keep Erik in secret and only love him in the dark, then that was enough for you. It had to be enough for you. Even if you longed for more. A life without love was no life at all, so you and Erik had no other choice. No matter how much you loved Erik, you could only love him at night and he had to depart before the lark sang. Every morning you’d have your kitchen maid procure a special tea for you to ensure you didn’t come to be with child. This was your fate and you’d accepted it, but Erik hadn’t. He’d brought up fantastical ideas of running away and eloping, but you wouldn’t hear of it.
β€œMy father forbids me to end my marriage to the prince, Erik. Doing so, especially for a man like you, an untitled bachelor without family who hides his face behind a mask and accrues his wealth from dubious means, would ruin me. It’d cause a scandal so great I could never recover from it. I had to marry a man of substance, father said. A certain wealthy prince. In the eyes of the royal court, you won’t amount to anything but, in my eyes, you’re worth the whole lot of them put together. I fear I would’ve killed myself by now, were it not for the unbearable thought of leaving you behind. My heart can’t bear to inflict such cruelty onto you. You don’t deserve that. But I can’t run away with you, no matter how much I may want to. The wants and desires of a woman, even a princess, are irrelevant.”
As much as he hated it, he understood and reluctantly respected your decision. You and Erik were so in love. You saved him from his solitude, you were the light in the darkness of his existence, but you seemed to be kept apart by forces beyond your control. Still, the maestro gave you, his Angel of Music, a bundle of red roses with a fake one nestled inside, and told you that you'd be with him until the last one withered.
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One winter’s night, an old beggar woman came to the castle and offered a single rose in return for shelter from the bitter cold. You, the mistress of the castle, showed kindness to the old woman as she let you feel the petals. They were so soft, softer than any flower you held before, and it smelled sweet, far sweeter than any other rose. You simply asked what color the rose was since you couldn’t see. When she told you it was red, you were amazed. Erik had told you about red when he gave you your first bouquet of roses, how it symbolized love and passion. He described it as the color of the sun or fire, bringing warmth to the hearts of men. Your kingdom had been cursed to only grow black roses that reeked of death, so to have a rose of such a vibrant color in full bloom, especially in the depths of this freezing winter, seemed like magic. You were about to let her inside and have a servant show her to a spare bedroom for the night so she could warm up and settle in, but your husband stopped you, cruelly snatching the rose from your hand and pulling you away from the old woman.
Repulsed by her haggard appearance, the prince sneered at the gift and turned the old woman away. But she warned him not to be deceived by appearances, for beauty is found within. And when he dismissed her again, the old woman's ugliness melted away to reveal a beautiful enchantress. The prince tried to apologize, but it was too late, for she had seen that there was no love in his heart, and as punishment, she transformed him into a hideous beast and placed a powerful spell on the castle, and all who lived there - even you, the princess who showed her compassion. She spared you as much as she could, not wanting your kindness to go unrewarded, but the prince and everyone else in the castle had to learn a lesson. She let you keep your human form, but erased your and Prince Adam’s memories of each other after your marriage so that you’d both have the chance to find true love in the future. However, by doing this, she inadvertently erased your memories of Erik since you only met and started your love affair after you and the prince were married. The enchantress had good intentions and thought she was doing you a great kindness, but her gift was a curse.
After the enchantress placed her curse upon the castle, turning Prince Adam into a beast and everyone else into household objects, he thought that you'd learn to love him since you were still blind and couldn’t see him. He thought you were disgusted with him because of his beastly appearance. In turn, you called him out on this, saying the real reason had to do with his arrogance and cruelty. You still despised him anyway because he was cruel, selfish, and unkind, with no love in his heart. Ever since then, the Beast showed nothing but shame for his actions and hated his cruel father for raising him to be a tyrant, even tearing up a portrait of himself out of anger. Even the servants themselves were in full regret of their reluctance to speak out against the king, implying that they truly despised him for his cruel nature. To you and Beast, you had never married and were only betrothed. Your fathers were both dead by this point, so you didn’t see any reason to go through with the wedding. You left him, claiming that people don't hate him because of his appearance, but because of how he acts, and that he's not some terrifying beast or powerful prince, but a pathetic human named Adam.
After you left, enchantment was the only good thing that happened to Erik. He was turned into a pipe organ and could use music to move nearby objects, but couldn’t move himself, as his new form was far too large and bolted to the wall. But he found himself more useful to his master as a composer and was willing to do everything in his power to stay in that new form. He developed powerful abilities, which he could release through his own music, and became obsessed with it. He wanted more. To possess this forbidden magic, Erik had to sacrifice a memory of equal value. His thoughts about you might’ve given him pause in the past, but you were gone and it didn’t seem like you were ever coming back. He no longer cared about losing his memories for a spell. Falling in love with you while you were married to his brother was painful enough, but his nights with you offered him some respite. He took solace in knowing neither you nor Adam were aware of this family secret, though this comfort was cold and tainted with bitterness. Your miserable marriage to his brother combined with your memory erasure and leaving was too much for Erik to bear, so he erased all his memories of you in exchange for these dark powers. His father was right after all! Ignorance was bliss.
The Beast considered him much more valuable as an advisor and confidant, and found his depressing arrangements of notable classical music somehow made him feel better. It was said that music soothes the savage beast, and they couldn't be more correct. Erik kept the Beast isolated from everyone else in the castle, and close to himself in order to prevent the spell from breaking, which had remained for 10 long years. Erik was a good talker, as he was able to captivate the spirits, to insinuate his hypnotic music, to convince everybody with honeyed words and a soft voice. He appeared to the Beast as his "best friend", but he was actually manipulating him because he wanted to remain as a pipe organ forever and sought some attention. However, this attitude was only displayed because he was quite afraid to fade in the background, afraid that he’d be forgotten. He wasn’t appreciated by anyone as the inhabitants of the castle seemed to ignore him at the least, except for the Beast. The Beast came to him often to hear his soothing music, which would ease his tormented soul.
β€œYour music is the only thing that helps me forget.”
β€œDon't worry, old friend. I'm here for you, just as I have been, just as I always will be.”
The more magic Erik used, the more he deviated from being human, not just in body but in mind as well. Moreover, the type of magic he used influenced the changes that occurred within him. He slowly became corrupted by his own desperate desire to be loved. Without you by his side, Erik became arrogant, evil, sarcastic, manipulative, acrimonious, obstreperous, and somewhat paranoid. Under the curse, he composed tirelessly his next opera, β€œDon Juan Triumphant”, whose sole purpose was to make the castle collapse.
β€œErik! Stop the noise!”
β€œNoise? Noise?! This is my masterpiece.”
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You’d lived in castles and palaces among the richest people of any age. But never, never had you stood in greater luxury than when you moved into this quaint little town and lived the life of a simple peasant, surrounded by townspeople who didn’t know who you once were. You loved the hustle and bustle of running errands and doing daily chores, you loved being part of a community and helping others, you loved wearing much simpler dresses, you loved getting dirty and feeling tired in a good way from a hard day’s work. You befriended a lovely woman named Belle, who was about your age, and her father, Maurice. Though they both seemed to be the talk of the town and considered β€œodd”, you came to love them like family.
Maurice was a musician who was traveling to a music festival to perform. But since the curse, the world had lost its music and melody. All composers in town became superstitious, believing in a β€œCurse of the 9th Symphony”, its origins unknown. Maurice was a skeptic and, having premiered his 8th symphony last night on stage, a mysterious hooded figure handed him a letter after the performance. β€œAfter your 9th,” it said, β€œI will return. He has a job for you.” Maurice then went missing while on his way home, shortly after his 9th symphony. Philippe returned alone. When Belle went in search of her missing father, you insisted on going with her, not wanting her to get lost in the woods like Maurice might’ve. These woods were dangerous, especially at night when the wolves came out. When you came up to the tall iron gates and Belle found Maurice’s hat, you cursed to yourself. Of course you’d be brought back here. Escape was an illusion, it seemed. Oh, cruel fate, would this nightmare ever end?
While in the castle, Maurice had come across a silver music box. The music box was empty, the cords cut yet, somehow, a song started playing when he opened it. How was this accomplished? He fiddled with the music box and wound it up, making the princess figurine spin in a dance. Unbeknownst to him, it was something never seen in at least a decade. It had been a wedding present for you but, after the curse was cast, the Beast’s heart stayed dark from that moment on. Its melody brought back the Beast’s bad memories; all his mistakes, all his regrets, and all his pain. For the master of the castle, it was a Pandora’s Box that contained many horrors. Each note of that lovely melody seemed to deepen the Beast’s anguish. He couldn't bear to hear it. When Maurice opened it, the Beast could hear it from the West Wing and flew into a rage. He picked up Maurice, carried him out of the room and slammed the door, plunging the den into darkness. For daring to trespass and open your music box, Maurice was Beast’s prisoner, sentenced to rot in the dungeons forever.
When Belle took her father’s place as the Beast’s prisoner, you insisted on staying with her and the Beast let you, giving you your old room back. While the Beast had destroyed his own room, yours remained untouched and was just as you left it 10 years ago. You didn’t tell Belle about the curse nor your complicated history with the Beast because, as much as you may not have seen eye to eye in your past turbulent relationship, you still believed he could change. He deserved that chance to love and be loved in return. You worried that Beast's psychological state would become increasingly feral the longer he was under the curse, such that he would eventually lose his last vestiges of humanity and become completely wild if the spell couldn’t be broken. You wanted the spell to be broken, if not for his sake, then for everyone else in the castle. Everyone, even you, played against Erik, trying to provoke love between Belle and the Beast to break the spell. But Erik wouldn’t be deterred so easily, and continued plotting and scheming in the shadows of the West Wing.
β€œTrust me. Humanity is entirely overrated. Before the enchantment, there was no need for my particular brand of genius. But now, the master needs my melodies to feed his tormented soul. I am his confidant and his best friend...and I won't let some peasant girl ruin it for me! I will see to it that this blossoming love withers on the vine.”
Neither you nor Erik could remember each other, but you both had this indescribable feeling that wouldn’t go away. You weren’t sure what it was exactly. Even before you officially met again, it almost felt like a pull, a thought trying to break out from the back of your minds, or a strange sense of Deja Vu. Erik hated it with a passion and played his music loudly to drown it out, while you were just confused. While exploring the castle and reacquainting yourself with everything, You could’ve sworn you heard a man’s voice hypnotizing you, seducing you, urging you to enter the West Wing. The Beast’s room. But you couldn’t possibly! It was forbidden! The Beast had warned both you and Belle! And yet…
β€œYes, my dear. Come to me.”
You felt like you’d been in this room before. A strange sense of familiarity washed over you as you felt around the walls to guide yourself, but for some indiscernible reason, you hated this room and everything in it. Avoiding broken furniture and other obstacles in your way, you felt fresh air coming from an open window and approached the balcony. You felt around a small table until your hand brushed against something cold and made of glass. A bell jar. When you touched it, you felt warmth and light emanating from underneath it. Next to it, you picked up something cold and heavy. You felt the engravings and markings decorating the frame and handle, and your fingers tapped against the glass of its face. Your handheld mirror that your father once gave you. But it was glowing just like the bell jar and you could hear strange crackling noises coming from it, almost like lightning. What had the enchantress done to it?
You were about to inspect it further, but you could hear music coming from an adjacent room. The door was left ajar and, when Erik noticed you were looking at him, he immediately doused his candles and fell silent. Wandering over to the organ, you spotted a half-finished set of sheet music set aside, complete with inkwell and quill. Curious, you sat down at the organ and began reading it.
β€œDon’t touch that!” Erik’s voice snapped, seemingly coming from nowhere and scaring you half to death as you were chased away from the organ. You looked around frantically and reached out your hands, confused when you felt no one around you. You thought maybe it was a ghost or ventriloquism, until you realized it was the pipe organ itself that was talking to you, towering over you with a scrutinizing glare that you couldn’t see but could feel. Right. Enchanted castle. You’d never gotten used to it back then, and you still wouldn’t. Not now, not ever. But you felt a strange sense of longing when you heard his voice. He scoffed in disgust whenever you mentioned love or breaking the spell.
β€œA daring woman, cursed with such beauty but never able to see it, a pity even. A beauty such as yourself, meets beasts in dark hallways and forbidden rooms? An act of love or lust, so you say? Beasts know nothing of the sort. Empty your heart, cast it aside, I say. Dreadful beasts we are, no less? Beauty may fool a blind man, but no beast!”
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Months passed. The enchanted rose continued to wilt. Christmas was coming. The Beast, wanting to get a present for Belle, ordered Erik to compose a song for her, much to Erik’s disgust. The girl was evil. She held the master from Erik’s grasp. She filled his head with dreams of love and hope! Yech!
β€œI want you to compose a song. It's a present…for Belle. And make it happy!”
β€œOh, but happiness is so depressing! What's next? Love songs?! Wedding marches?! It's all that girl's fault.”
He had fabricated another curse, a false one to orchestrate distrust within the nearby villages so that the townspeople would either ban music and/or turn on each other. If he instilled fear and superstition so there was no competition, then he’d definitely be the best musician in the world! His plot to get Maurice killed had failed, but he could still go after his daughter. She was a threat to his plans. He twisted Belle’s words and emotionally manipulated her so she’d want to get a Christmas tree in the Black Forest beyond a frozen lake. He lured her away from the castle, and did everything in his power so she’d never come back. While she was away, Erik told the Beast that Belle had abandoned him, thus stoking Beast's anger. He then tried to goad the Beast into destroying the enchanted rose, the symbol of the curse, but the Beast ultimately decided not to when a rose petal landed on the storybook from Belle, thus allowing him to regain his senses. Erik’s plan to drive Belle and the Beast apart almost worked, but was ultimately foiled by the Beast.
β€œSo, Beast gets girl, and it's a happy ending for everyone. Enchantment lifted...and Erik fades into the background. No longer important...no longer needed…I THINK NOT!”
Enraged at the failure of his plan to break up Belle and the Beast's relationship, Erik lost what was left of his sanity and gave into his destructive and suicidal thoughts that had plagued his mind for years. He had no regard for his own life as he was willing to take everyone's lives in the castle along with his own to ensure that the spell remained intact. With the Beast having broken free of his hypnotic control, Erik believed he had nothing else to live for and attempted to bring the castle down with his loud music, playing β€œDon Juan Triumphant” more intensely to rupture the walls and shatter the windows. He shook the walls to pieces, debris fell, the floors began to separate and created perilous chasms.
β€œMaestro, stop! What do you think you're doing?”
β€œDon't you see? They can't fall in love if they're DEAD! You could've joined me, but I see my triumph is a solo act! We can remain as we are, FOREVER AND EVER!”
β€œERIK! ENOUGH!”
Erik was finally defeated when the Beast ripped out his keyboard from him, which ceased his contact with his pipes. In a blind rage, Erik tore himself free of the wall and began to collapse, effectively killing himself as he crashed to the ground, destroyed. Despite Erik’s true colors being exposed and his diabolical plans foiled, the Beast mourned Erik’s demise, as he still considered him to be his closest friend.
After the curse was broken, everyone was turned back into humans, and yours and Prince Adam’s memories were restored. You both remembered that you were technically still married and thus had extramarital affairs - you before the curse, and he during the curse. But this realization wasn’t awkward. What was there to forgive? You and Adam were forced into marriage by your fathers and each fell in love with another, it happens. You just considered yourselves even. It took lots of paperwork, but with his signature here, and your signature there, you and Prince Adam officially dissolved your marriage, much to both yours and his relief. You let bygones be bygones after your divorce and considered yourselves friends, no hard feelings. The prince assured you that you’d always be welcome here in his castle, and it was your choice whether you wanted to stay, return to your kingdom, or go elsewhere.
While everyone was downstairs celebrating in the ballroom, you went back to the West Wing, to the prince’s room where Erik was. You remembered him. Oh, your poor darling! Your dear Erik had suffered so much sadness and so much pain, surrounded by people yet completely alone in the castle for all those years. He was human again but he laid deathly still, face down on the floor. You took out the music box and it played that familiar melody, your song. The enchantress appeared one last time and used her magic to resurrect Erik. She couldn’t condone his abuse of forbidden and evil magic, but she’d seen for herself he’d been punished enough. She asked for your forgiveness. She only ever wanted to give you a chance to find true love and happiness, but she didn’t realize you already had it. Consider this parting gift from her her repentance for inadvertently cursing you. She wouldn’t bend or break the laws of life and death for just anyone, but true love was the most magical gift of all, so she did it once for Belle and Adam, and again for you and Erik. She would no longer interfere with either yours and Erik’s or Belle and Adam’s happy endings. You needn’t do anything to repay her, just go on and live happily ever after.
When Erik woke up, his memories of you were restored. You were discovered by the prince, and he was so relieved and ecstatic to see his best friend alive. Erik finally pledged his love for you in front of the prince, not caring that you were blind and married, unaware you had already ended your marriage contract moments before. The prince gave you to Erik with his blessing, not that you ever needed it, but you and Erik appreciated it. Erik moved into your bedchamber where he would often awaken to the sun streaming through the curtains and the lark singing, just like he had always dreamed. No more hiding under the cloak of night, no more sneaking through secret passageways. He relished in finally sharing your bed, but he had a difficult time adjusting to being human again. He still experienced trauma from the curse, and was plagued by nightmares at night. He confided in you his guilt and regrets, his fears and anxieties, and all his insecurities while you gently rubbed his back, drew patterns on his chest, or held his hand. He felt like he maybe didn’t deserve to be this happy after all he had done.
β€œIt's just...it was different when we were all cursed objects. When we could move around freely and act however we wanted to. When I could just play my music. When I knew exactly how to get the master to smile and relax with my music. Even if it meant we'd be cursed forever, I was happier as a pipe organ."Β 
β€œAnd it’s going to take time, my love, but we can learn to be happy again, as humans. As husband and wife, if you’ll still have me. I’m sorry for all that I’ve put you through. I’m sorry for making you wait so long.”
β€œNow that I finally have you in my arms again, ten years didn’t feel long at all. I would wait a thousand years more and still take you to be my bride.”
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The four of you eventually held a double wedding in the castle. As soon as the rings were exchanged and Erik kissed his bride, the curse placed upon him at birth was finally broken. But when the bright light encompassing him had dissipated, instead of a handsome man, his face was still that of a living corpse. His eyes were so deep that one could hardly see the fixed pupils, just two big black holes, as in a dead man's skull. His skin, which was stretched across his bones like a drumhead, wasn’t white, but a nasty yellow. His nose was so little worth talking about that one couldn’t see it side-face; and the absence of that nose was a horrible thing to look at. All the hair he had was three or four long dark locks on his forehead and behind his ears. But you saw nothing ugly in your husband at all, he was absolutely perfect. He was beauty itself, and you didn’t need your eyesight to see that.
β€œMy love, are you okay?”
β€œWell, yes. But I don’t understand. I’m supposed to be beautiful.”
β€œOh, Erik, but you are beautiful.”
The double wedding was a grander celebration than the one that was held after the curse was lifted. The festivities lasted an entire week, and you all sang together of the magical new world now visible to you as the court and townspeople rejoiced.
#phantom of the opera x reader#erik x reader#prince adam x reader#prince Adam x Belle#beast x belle#beauty and the beast#phantom of the opera#beauty and the beast AU#phantom of the opera AU#crossover au#crossover#crossover fic#arranged marriage#took inspiration from Iolanta and Bramble: The Mountain King too#also a tiny bit of inspiration from The Man Who Laughs#random fic idea#random prompt#pls tag me if you’re inspired by this#I’d love to read it
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