#last one standing theatre company

[blue-eyed-giant]

i am Stressed i am Excited and i am Scared this is too much on my heart

[invisibleicewands]

‘I’m bursting with ideas’: Michael Sheen launches new national theatre for Wales

Michael Sheen, a global star of screen and stage, is spearheading a new national theatre for Wales, promising to create big, bold plays that bring vital stories about his homeland to life.

Sheen said he was bursting with ideas and promised to appear in the newly forged Welsh National Theatre’s first production, a “foundation” story about Wales staged at the Wales Millennium Centre in Cardiff.

The actor, who has been announced as artistic director of the theatre company, told the Guardian that Wales’s stories were “under-explored in the English language”.

Sheen said: “Could you tell me the name of the great play about Aberfan or the Merthyr Rising or the Rebecca riots? Where is our Welsh canon of great plays? We can’t do Under Milk Wood for the rest of eternity. I’m bursting with ideas people are bursting with work that they want to do with us and that’s what’s really exciting about it.”

Just before Christmas, National Theatre Wales, which was established in 2009, announced it had “ceased to exist” after its Arts Council of Wales funding was cut. It has evolved into Team (theatre, education, arts, music), focusing on grassroots work.

Sheen said his new company did not yet have funding. “But that suits my way of thinking. I like the idea of starting small, simple, lean and building it up, working with what you’ve got. Don’t pay for swanky offices if you don’t need them, build it slowly with care and with passion and with vision and with ambition.

“We aim to represent the Welsh people so I would hope that public bodies would be prepared to work with us. I think probably history tells us that relying too much on any one source of funding makes you a bit vulnerable so I first and foremost would hope that this company can stand on its own two feet but we are open to working with whoever wants to get involved.”

Sheen said he was thinking big.

He said: “My instinct has always been, rightly or wrongly, that when people around you are saying: ‘No, you can’t have that, you can’t do that,’ to go even bigger and bolder and go, no we’re not going to do that, we’re going to do 10 times that.”

Sheen said he was not in a position to reveal details of performances but said the plan was to do one production a year. “The plan to begin with is do big plays really well for big audiences. I’m starting to commission writers.”

Sheen said he was also speaking with organisations such as Welsh National Opera and the Welsh language company Theatr Cymru about working together.

He said: “I’m talking about big bold ambitious world stage productions of plays about who we are, where we’ve come from, how we got to where we are and where are we going.

“The first production will be on the Millennium Centre stage. It will be a new Welsh play, it will star Welsh actors including myself, and it will be one of the foundation stories of who we are as a nation.” Sheen said the first production should be staged next year.

He was working on Nye, the hugely successful play on the life of the Welsh politician and NHS architect Aneurin Bevan, at the National Theatre in London last year when it became clear that National Theatre Wales was in deep trouble.

The company was close to Sheen’s heart as he starred in and co-directed its most celebrated work, The Passion, a modern re-telling of the crucifixion featuring hundreds of local people. “That was a life-changing experience for me,” he said.

Sheen spoke to fellow Welsh actors about what should come next. “I realised I was probably the leading candidate for what could happen now. My feeling was very strongly that it should be a completely new company. It should be a fresh start, a new charity, a new board of governors. I didn’t want to take something over I wanted to start afresh.”

When Nye transferred to the Wales Millennium Centre in Cardiff, the experience reinforced Sheen’s determination to launch a new national theatre for Wales.

Sheen said: “You know that phrase: ‘Build it and they will come.’ It was rammed every performance – they were bringing chairs from the bar to get more people in. The appetite for it was extraordinary and it was hugely moving to perform that to a Welsh audience. People were seeing a play about them and their lives and their history and their story. That was revelatory to me.”

[myfreakingawesomeworld]

So I needed a couple of days to recover, but witnessing Merrily's closing show on Sunday was simply amazing and so special.

The entire week people had gasped when they heard I was seeing the closing show haha, and even when queueing at the theatre, there were multiple people still looking for tickets. I felt so fortunate to be holding on to one - as well as that I bought it before the Tony's because those prices skyrocketed.

As soon as the overture started, people started applauding loudly, and once more before the overture had ended. Everyone clearly felt lucky to be in the room where it happens 😉. Jonathan obviously got a loud applause as he entered the stage, and so did Daniel and Lindsay, Katie Rose and honestly all cast members (as they deserve!)

After Franklin Shepard Inc Daniel got a standing ovation that lasted minutes, and completely broke down in tears. Throughout the show there were many standing ovations, after which the cast had to clearly wait to continue. The show without speeches lasted about 3 hours because of that. Jonathan kept it together quite well throughout the show and was mostly in tears during It's a hit, for which someone at the stage door airdropped me those pictures above. And having to start singing " our time" Jonathan was clearly in tears and kept looking upstage at Daniel. When he finally got his words out, Daniel's voice kept cracking and so also he got emotional.

After the official bows everyone got on stage including Sonia and Maria Friedman, stage management, musicians, dressers etc. You can find the speeches online, they mostly focused on the authentic love in the company and how they were never going to experience something as good again. Both everyone on stage as everyone in the audience was in tears. Especially when Sonia Friedman told Maria Friedman that their parents who are no longer with them, would be so proud of her. And that the last thing Stephan Sondheim did was cast Daniel for this show. Jonathan, Daniel and Lindsay were holding on to each other tightly the entire time and Jon placed some kisses atop of Daniels head which just looked to cute. It was clear they were taking a lot of comfort in one another.

During the speeches they also mentioned that it wouldn't take to long to watch this company do this show again, but in a different format, alluding to the proshot.

The next day I walked by the Hudson theatre and they were already clearing it out. I filmed walking by, but it is mostly tech and a small glimpse of the inside of the theatre that you can see.

All in all, it was an incredible experience to have witnessed this closing show and have gotten to see it at the new york theatre workshop from only a couple of meters away! Obviously the show is amazing! And it is such a joy and privilege to get to see Jonathan exude his happy theatre kid-energy live on stage.

[inthiseverymoment]

silhouettes emerging: chapter ii

“the Promised Land Blurred Awash in Dancing Footlights”

a very eventful first visit to the théâtre des vampires

iwtv oc x armand, this chapter ~2.9k

a few hours ago i thought this chapter wouldn't have much to it and might have to be merged into another. lollll

my apologies for the ever-so-slightly true idea that this is, just a little bit, the vampire equivalent of "y/n goes to a concert and is discovered bc she's Different"

but hey it's iwtv so it's gonna be deeper than that

also, i was not expecting how much FUN it would be to write santiago omg. also also, there’s an interview where mara said they put a ton of work into the ceiling and it turned out gorgeous only to never be used in a s2 shot, so i made sure to mention it so that this hypothetical episode would be sure to feature it

enjoy! like comment share etc!

chapter i fic masterlist chapter iii

Nineteen Thirty-Six, Paris, France

This could have been one of the nights she’d dreamed about.

That was the mantra that would not leave her mind as she took her time with each step down each cobblestone road. A curtain of stars, the smell of fruit-tinged alcohol, and French murmurs made it all too clear that, if there was someone beside her or if the destination of this walk was her own stage, she couldn’t ask for anything more.

Despite all she’d gone through in the city so far, Isabelle vowed to let herself enjoy this act of taking herself on a date to the theatre. This was the last performance opportunity in her area that she hadn’t auditioned for yet, and waitressing at a cafe near her tiny apartment didn’t give her even a fraction of the money to travel elsewhere in search of other gigs, so-try as she might to let the worry melt away-she was very much aware that this night was something of a last chance.

She was greeted at the box office by a man in powdered makeup who smiled at her with impressively realistic costume fangs. The others that filed in appeared to be half already-devoted fans of the company, with painted faces of their own, and half eye-rolling skeptics who scoffed at being dragged along with their friends or partners. With her slightly nervous eagerness, she felt somewhat in between the categories as, one by one, they all spilled through the door into the Théâtre des Vampires.

…My God.

She had seen stunningly intricate and opulent performance halls before, as a rejected hopeful, but something about this one took her breath more than all the rest put together. A massive chandelier hung from the ceiling, which itself was covered in murals that made her head spin to decipher. There were large, swooping statues of angels doing decidedly un-angelic things. Staircases were beautifully formed yet falling slightly apart; chairs were squeaking with age yet divinely comfortable; it was a perfect mix of well-worn and splendid.

Isabelle took her seat among the buzz of anticipatory audience members that never failed to make her heart glow. When the theater darkened with a booming clank and the spotlight sparked to life, standing in it quite suddenly was a caped man who seemed almost to have been born with “stage presence” written across his chest by the Fates themselves.

“Welcome-to the displacement of reason, and the excretion of pathetic desires,” he began, calculatedly gesturing. “By that I mean-”

And as he bowed, the devotees joined in in rapturous chorus-

“Good evening!”

“Good evening,” she echoed softly, a schoolgirl’s giggle fluttering into her chest. The powder-faced young woman in the adjoining seat grinned and nudged her shoulder.

“First time?”

She nodded, attention torn between the first person to speak kindly to her since she’d arrived and the leading man who had now begun to fly on a wire above the audience.

“Oh, you’re going to love it. Santiago up there-he’s one of the greats, you’ll never forget this performance as long as you live.”

This Santiago was making quite the show of his speech. As the lights and chandelier flickered, he floated straight above them, and Isabelle could have sworn she saw the rope detach from his jacket for a moment-she gasped-

“Look,” she said to her seatmate, and pointed up.

“Hm?”

“Didn’t you see?-”

But by now, Santiago’s course had taken him past them and up to the rafters, and the other girl shrugged, turning back to the performance.

As the leading man proclaimed that his audience was about to see “the highest form of art in the lowest of ways,” the crowd laughed in delight, and the spotlight followed him all the way, its large beam eventually half-illuminating the most beautiful person Isabelle had ever seen.

“Have you repressions that need airing?” the speech continued.

…Apparently, yes.

She was dumbstruck. It would be shallow to say that Bella Ditell-no, Isabelle de la Rue now-cared too much for appearances, and she did not want to be shallow. No, there was something else that had her incredibly curious about this stranger. It was something like the way he carried himself, something like the thousands of thoughts she could nearly see passing across his eyes as they glinted amber in the spotlight. The sound of Santiago’s speech blurred to nothing in her mind as she watched this young man scan the audience, tired, bored, generally disregarding.

I must be the only one looking back at him.

She figured this because, when his gaze went over her as it did all the others, he stopped-then blinked-and looked back. For a moment, Isabelle felt a strange sense of being read, deciphered in the same way she was trying to decipher him.

Whether it was the newness of anyone putting in the effort to decipher her at all, or the supernatural nature of the story being played out, there was either way an unfamiliar, undeniable rush of something.

The stranger smirked, and the spotlight followed its target away from the rafters and back towards the stage.

Near the end of his monologue, Santiago seemed to rally the previously coughing and chattering audience into a captivated silence with his declaration that everything about to happen was entirely real and that they would one and all be held accountable.

“Complicit…”

-that was her worst fear in one word-

“...repugnant…and appalling!”

She was, apparently, not the only one who was slightly bothered-

“And…”

Despite every instinct, she found herself leaning forward, awaiting a judgement she had never consented to be under-

What on Earth have I walked into?

“I love you for it.”

Stunned, she took in a breath.

Having given a wink to Isabelle’s blushing seatmate, Santiago was then looking straight at her, a certain yet intrigued tilt to his head, before turning back to the rest of the audience.

“And I welcome you…even as you disgust me.”

~

Twenty Twenty-Three, New York City, United States of America

“So that must have been new for you too,” Daniel probed, “being from such a strict moral background.”

“Indeed,” said Isabelle, half-breathless with memory. “That idea of being celebrated for the wrong or messy parts of yourself was entirely foreign to me.”

“And you said the plays were different back then. Different how?”

“When Louis talked about the Théâtre,” she began, “he said the plays always either ended in death or ‘some kind of cruel, barely motivated violence’. In the mid-thirties, most of them were the former. The stories were a little bit deeper, everything was more motivated, it was really more about the horror of grief and the unknown rather than laughed-off brutality-”

“Is that the truth?”

She blinked.

Is it?

“The plays…changed gradually. At the time when I was turned, they were as I describe, and a maker cannot get into the mind of their fledgling. So…a tentative yes on that.”

But she was shaken. No matter how hard and fast many of the vampiric powers and limitations were, there was always a possibility from the moment she stepped into that building that any given thought might not have been her own. If it weren’t for the many, many years she had spent coming to know her true self, free of both her emotionally repressive hometown and supernaturally oppressive coven, if it weren’t for the way she had come to recognize what a memory felt like when one of them had gotten into her mind, if it weren’t for that, she would have been living in a state of constant terror.

“Though the Théâtre was better than it eventually became, there was still a sense of horror to it,” Isabelle continued as Daniel scribbled away. “I found it so…so, so beautiful. And I hated that I found it beautiful, because it was so deeply unsettling-each contrasting thought only bolstered its opposite. Like I said, the final play, the one with the human victim, was done with more intimacy and less shock value, and had the whole audience breathless.”

She almost smiled in remembrance, and Daniel set his pen down to shoot her a look.

“So the small-town girl enjoyed seeing her first slaughter?”

For a moment, the shame returned, and she was sure he could see it flicker in her face.

“That night’s victim,” she confessed slowly, “was the girl that had ruined my reputation only one week before.”

“Ah,” was Daniel’s only reply, a bit delayed but with plenty of thought.

“Of course, I had thought at the start that it was yet another place she’d gotten a role, that she was playing the ‘scared woman’ remarkably well despite my surprise that she’d perform in a venue like this. But as the play went on, it seemed more and more real, as the introduction had promised. There truly was something supernatural in the air, and besides, I had never seen her act that well before. For some combination of a thousand reasons, my drunk-with-stage-lights mind started to believe.

“This was the one whose doting and shallow parents owned an opera company, who had dug her nails in hard during our first handshake, who had handed me a camera and sugar-sweetly asked me to take a photo of the rest of our dance class that only I would be excluded from, who had mocked every single girl who didn’t fit into her shiny, plastic norm over and over as it flew completely under the radar of everyone in power.

“And I saw her tremble in Santiago’s arms. The deeply privileged girl who had everything in life handed directly to her was suddenly at the mercy of a group of misfits that had been cast into the shadows all their lives. It was…”

She was quiet for a moment.

“It’s okay,” Daniel said.

“It was the most incredible thing I have ever seen.”

The journalist nodded and gave half of a smile, as if this was the confirmation that he was indeed in the presence of a fellow vampire.

 “Santiago offered someone else’s life in exchange, as he did when Louis and Claudia first went, but this time, instead of picking someone in whichever front row seat was most convenient…”

She trailed off, heartbeat picking up as she once more became lost in the memory.

“Yeah?”

“He gave her the choice.”

~

Nineteen Thirty-Six, Paris, France

“If you were to trade your life for one of these,” Santiago was whispering, every syllable ringing through the deathly quiet auditorium, “who?”

For the first time since they’d met, Isabelle saw the girl’s face in something other than triumphant composure, now streaked in mascara and worry. She was squinting in the light to get her bearings, and, with shaking breath, began looking through the audience.

It did not take long for her eyes to find her and widen with relieved malice.

“Her,” she choked out, pointing decisively. “Her, take her. She is nothing. I’ve wanted her gone for weeks. You know-”

-here the audience began to gasp as she started to laugh through her tears, and Isabelle’s blood ran cold-

“-you know, this near-death may actually be the best thing that’s ever happened to me, because once she’s gone, I’m safe again, I’ll know I’m the best again, I’m-”

Remembering that she was indeed in front of an audience, the young woman collected herself for a moment and nodded at Santiago as if he would join the rest of the world in doing her every bidding.

Santiago, for his part, regarded her for a long while, then looked at Isabelle for what felt like an eternity before his gaze traveled back to the rafters. Isabelle followed it up toward the stranger, who apparently held some sort of sway over the whole thing-the director, perhaps-and she awaited judgement with far higher stakes than what could not have been only an hour before.

Somehow, though, she felt…safe.

Something told her that she would not die that night.

The stranger almost, almost smiled, then gave a slight shake of his head.

This the girl saw, and she started shaking far worse than before as Santiago turned back to her with a positively villainous smile.

“Dearest,” he drawled, “I usually tell the forsaken audience member to remember this moment, to remember that they cannot trust their fellow mortals. But this one in particular does not need to be reminded of that after all she has endured.”

The young woman in the seat next to Isabelle was looking at her with eyes like full moons, and she herself was near tears.

How does he know?

“Half out of flippant disregard for all you view as below you, half out of jealousy of the many who possess a thousand times your emotional and vocal range,” Santiago continued, “you have subtly tortured oceans of young artists like yourself-like what you think you are. You believe that, because you do not allow yourself to think or feel deeply, you are more mature. And do you know where that will lead you, darling? Straight to an empty, vacuous, golden cage of a life. Anything you shall accomplish-sorry, anything Mommy and Daddy’s money shall accomplish-will not matter a single bit, not with that kind of a conscience, miniscule as it may be, gnawing endlessly at you. Perhaps, though, not endlessly; because, no matter the accolades, no matter the societal power, one thing still awaits us all.”

He smiled slowly, basking in the rich girl’s terror and entirely silent auditorium.

“You know what it means to be loved by your sycophants and those audiences filled with shallow old donors who believe screamed, flat high notes and deeply false tears equate to art. But I ask you this, my sweet: do you know what it means to be loved by death?”

The violin soared to a climax.

The vampire bit.

The young tyrant screamed.

Then the curtain fell in front of them, and the audience’s complete silence continued, interrupted only by muffled hisses from behind that curtain which seemed to have far more than one source.

Isabelle was snapped out of her reverie by her new acquaintance’s hand on her wrist and French-accented whisper.

“It is captivating, no?”

Slowly, silently, she nodded.

“They’re great actors,” the girl continued under her breath.

“Are you positively sure it’s not real?” Isabelle whispered back.

Then the curtain rose to reveal the cast, now heavily bloodstained as if they had all devoured their victim, and they bowed to the audience’s few stray claps which slowly but surely grew into a roaring applause.

“Oh, surely not,” the powder-faced girl said as she began the standing ovation. “But it is such fun to believe.”

The next few minutes were a complete blur of wonder, catharsis, and guilt.

Not guilt for what she thought she may have witnessed, but guilt for not feeling as guilty as she should have.

Feeling more feeling than she had felt in quite a long time-

Viens à moi.

-she pushed through the crowds to find someone to talk to about being hired-

Viens à moi.

-unsettling or not, this was still her last potential job, and selfishly or not, she had on some level adored what she’d seen-

Viens à moi.

-and all this time, amongst the chatter of the audience as they all left, she heard an occasional maddening whisper without an origin.

Some thought told her to duck into a hallway behind a pillar, which she did, and was confronted-as she had hoped-by the unfairly beautiful stranger from the rafters.

“Bonsoir,” she greeted, and found herself taking in a breath and starting to ramble before the man could reply. “Tonight…tonight was the most stunning theatre experience I have ever had. I’m not sure if you’re hiring, it feels odd to say that I’m not sure if you’d hire a human, but I think I could be something here. I can sing opera and jazz and popular song, I can play the piano and clarinet, I’ve done Shakespeare and a few horror plays back home, I can scream like the best of them, I know enough French to get by and am willing to learn more-”

“I figured as much,” the stranger interrupted gently, and they started to walk back through the hallway and the now-empty auditorium. “You are one of very few who seemed to enjoy our show for something greater than the novelty.”

“You’re the director, then?”

“Maître of the company,” he replied. “Armand.”

He then kissed her left hand in greeting-not only kissed her hand, but the birthmark on it, the birthmark her grandmother had tried in vain to scrub away, the birthmark which she had secretly cherished since childhood.

Through this flood of memory, she could have sworn she saw him smile.

“Isabelle de la Rue,” she said with a valiant attempt at matching his lilting accent. This Armand-Armand-tilted his head thoughtfully as they continued to walk.

“Is that a stage name?”

“It is. You’re the first to call that out. They called me Bella back home, which I always found somewhat infantilizing, because that was the way it was intended-and as for my last name, I wanted to separate myself from my past as much as possible.”

“You want freedom.”

“I do.”

The only thing that could draw her focus from Armand’s disarmingly earnest expression was that, from this angle at which there were no seats, her line of sight could go straight behind the curtain to a large splatter of blood at the center of the stage floor. Noticing that her eyes had gone wide, Armand turned to follow her gaze, then took her hand and briskly began to lead her away, continuing to look over his shoulder and urgently signal as if telling whoever was behind them to stop, stop, not this time.

That was the last thing she remembered before her world, having just been rocketed into glowing chandelieric light, went black.

[littledeathh]

I just finished the Dark Brotherhood quest in Skyrim and I wanted to point out a couple things (tell me if I'm wrong).

Cicero starts journaling in 4E 186 and contacts Astrid in 4E 200, so he has spent 14 years in Cheydinhal. In 189, 3 years later, he's chosen as keeper. He's tended to Mother for 11 years. In 191 Cicero became the last living member of the sanctuary, due to the fact that the regular embalming isolated him. So from 191 to 201, he spends 10 years in complete isolation, monotony, trying to rebuild the sanctuary but unable to do so, unable to hear Her voice.

Cicero appears to be around 40 years old in 201. Therefore, he was around 25 years old when he began journaling in Cheydinhal. However, he moved there only after the fall of the Bruma Sanctuary, becoming its last living member. He appears to be very vulnerable and lonely due to the loss of his family at Bruma.

"So, who better to understand the plight of a brother who has lost home and heart? Who better to comfort one whose Sanctuary is no more? The Bruma Sanctuary may be gone, but my dearest brothers and sisters will live forever in my dreams"

This traumatic event repeats in Cheydinhal, and Cicero has trouble coping with the thought of being on his own again and begins slipping into his jester persona for mental stimulation, safety and amusement.

"29th of Last Seed, 4E 191. Garnag is gone. Gone gone gone gone gone. Left to get food, but he'll be back. It's only been three months. Three months. Tree months? Twelve moths? Four sloths!"

Humour is a long standing coping mechanism in the face of tragedy (two sides of the same coin in Greek theatre), as well as the court jester's unique position in being honest with the king without causing upset, due to being "mad". Thus, it's fitting that Cicero would become obsessed with a jester (a jester that had been mad, honest or rude enough to make someone contact the Dark Brotherhood), as a jester can "face the music" before death.

I would argue Cicero's main character trait isn't madness, but solitude, a deep sense of isolation that is further exacerbated by his eccentric behaviour. Cicero has essentially created his own imaginary friend, turning his body into a vessel for someone who could never leave, die or betray him. Cicero also makes other remarks, such as swearing fealty to the listener and the Night Mother "until one of us dies horribly".

Considering how early on in his life he joined the Dark Brotherhood, he had to have first killed around the age of 20, and likely had nothing and nobody keeping him from pursuing a career as an assassin, which implies he may have lacked family or friends.

The Brotherhood provided that for him, and his behaviour towards the Night Mother isn't simply reverential like Festus. His giddy and dependent attitude towards his Mother makes him resemble a child in an adult body. "Our sweet Lady is maiden, mother... and crone..." suggests the extent to which the Night Mother and the Dark Brotherhood are his family, and he displays an insatiable need for company and care. "Maiden, mother and crone" suggests all stages of life, awaiting death, but also constitutes a community in of itself.

Cicero was fully aware of his need for company and isolation, and his admissions of "madness" are more so an acceptance of his own coping mechanisms. He found within himself (and the Night Mother) the stability, friendship and loyalty he had been craving so long.

Passing through Solitude, he mocks the capital's name, since it is highly populated, considering he had been through 2 Sanctuaries falling, a lonely upbringing and years of isolation tending to a corpse.

"Hmph. 'Solitude.' Lonely Cicero could tell you a thing or two about solitude..."

Even his journaling suggests the desire to share his pain and joy with someone, but he remains alone.

Cicero sees murder as salvation: "So long since I saved a soul." We know Cicero is thrilled by murder, being deeply "saddened" when he was forbidden from carrying out contracts, as a Keeper. He likes Riften due to being home to cheats and thieves. In those 10 years that he has been isolated, all he had to remember was his last murder, the jester.

Knowing he would be Cicero's last victim, he tortured him, hearing scream and laugh, but the jester was not afraid of death, which marked Cicero: "Merry in death as well in life. I was honored to know him." He disrobed him as a murder trophy and took a second set of jester clothes, which we later find on a table in Dawnstar. The jester's acceptance of death is poetic, and very relevant to Sithis and the Night Mother. Cicero swears to serve you and the Night Mother "until one of us dies horribly".

He spends a couple months in Dawnstar, trying to build his own sanctuary, but relents and moves to Falkreath. He's puzzled by the fact that her sanctuary has stayed alive without the Tenets and Night Mother. Isolated and wishing to relive his last murder, Cicero adopted the "jester" persona ("Cicero the man is dead"). It's very interesting to think there was once a Cicero the "man". He begins addressing himself in 3rd person and due to the fact that he used the first person when sane, he never explicitly states his name was Cicero, meaning I wonder if Cicero was ever his true name, or the jester's name.

"Cicero is dead! Cicero is born! The laughter has filled me, filled me so very completely. I am the laughter. I am the jester. The soul that has served as my constant companion for so long has breached the veil of the Void finally and forever. It is now in me. It is me. The world has seen the last of Cicero the man. Behold Cicero, Fool of hearts - laughter incarnate!"

As a bit of trivia, you find Loreius and his wife dead if you try to incriminate Cicero.

Guard: "You don't want to go up to that farmhouse, citizen. It's a terrible sight. The farmer and his wife, slaughtered in the night. So many knife wounds..."

Considering the fact that Loreius was the jester's main target, Cicero most definitely immobilised him and forced him to watch as he tortured and slashed his wife first, before moving on to torturing Loreius and stabbing him to death, over and over again, until his rage ran out.

Cicero on arrival: "But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you? Hmmm? No. No... Of course not. Because then Cicero would get angry, and that would be... ugly. Now Loreius. Loreius has learned the meaning of ugly."

When attacked in Dawnstar, the Sanctuary Guardians call the player "unworthy" but never attack Cicero, although both are part of the Brotherhood and both hold important titles, Keeper and Listener. However, the Sanctuary Guardians may be aware of their plans to kill Cicero, and as Spectral Assassin Lucien Lachance says, "the Dread Father does not wish this".

Cicero: "Oh, but this isn't at all what Mother would want. You kill the Keeper or I kill the Listener? Now that's madness."

Furthermore, Cicero has spent a short while in Dawnstar with the Mother before resorting to moving in with Astrid. The Spectral Assassins have seen Cicero take care of the Night Mother, and his loyalty is unquestionable. During his stay in Dawnstar he has installed or repaired traps: "stick-ler for details", in order to rebuild the Dark Brotherhood.

Also, the Black Door is operated through some sort of magic. Cicero didn't come up with the phrase, but found the answer in old texts of the Brotherhood. "The passphrase is mine! I have found it, in a letter ancient as the Sanctuary itself. The Black Door will ask "What is life's greatest illusion?" I am to answer - "Innocence my brother.""

"The passphrase is mine!" doesn't actually mean Cicero invented the phrase in this context.

Perhaps this is due to the fact that Falkreath is smaller, but Dawnstar has far more books lying around, in nearly every room, while Astrid's has more chests and end tables. The books may be due to Cicero's obsessive reading of the sacred works or due to the past members of the Dark Brotherhood.

"Brrr! Chilly! You'll enjoy this. Not an original part of the Sanctuary, per se. Let's call it a "forced addition." Forced by what? Oh, come and see!"

I don't believe Cicero introduced Udefrykte to Dawnstar during his short stay, nor would the ice have deposited so quickly to form tunnels. Rather, during the centuries that it had been abandoned, the beast made its way in or perhaps the building partially collapsed, therefore "not an original part of the Sanctuary".

"Schizophrenia is a heritable neurocognitive disorder affecting about 1% of the population, and usually has an onset age at around 21–25 in males and 25–30 in females." Around the same age he would have experienced isolation.

Also,

Past research has documented the development of these symptoms in contexts of solitary confinement, social isolation or sensory deprivation even in healthy individuals. Specifically, it has been demonstrated that situations of severe solitary or group confinement (in the context of polar, submarine or insular expeditions) are associated with an increase of psychotic symptoms, paranoia and hallucination experiences in healthy populations, who were especially selected and trained to survive in extreme conditions (Cochrane and Freeman, 1989; Gunderson and Nelson, 1963; Strange and Klein, 1973). Similarly, some patients isolated in intensive care units also develop a psychotic syndrome including visual hallucinations and paranoid delusion, unrelated to their neurological condition (Granberg-Axèll et al., 2001).

Therefore, I believe Cicero truly has schizophrenia (and continues hearing voices and seeing dwarves even out of isolation), which was worsened by his duty as Keeper and being isolated in a crypt.

[leslutdepointedulac]

Handwritten Letters

VamPride ~ Day 8: Handwritten Letters

Nicki's letter to Lestat before he dies, if he had written it instead of Eleni - Taken from my fic The Light Behind Your Eyes

Transcript:

L. de Valois 21 El Adaweya Cairo 16th August 1789

L, The last we spoke was ten years ago and I told you I despised you. It was true and I’m not ashamed to say that claim still stands, I don’t regret anything I said that night and yet I feel it necessary to give you words I left unsaid.  I’ll be gone when you get this. It’s safe to say my restless mind has finally caught up with me and I can no longer bear its torture. I’m tired, L., I want peace. I want to rest once and for all. I don’t believe that’s so wrong. Do you? After all, I’m no longer needed at the theatre, nevermind what they may or may not say, they have the plays they so badly wanted from me and everything belongs to them now. Even my violin is no longer of use to me, hence why my final wish is for E. to send it to you along with this letter. Our Most Treasured Director sees me predominantly as a hindrance to the company, what with my apparent insanity. Did E. inform you of how he confiscated my violin only after relieving me of my hands? I know how she writes to you of our business back here in Paris.  There are things I need to tell you before I’m lost to the flames. Despite how much I hated you then and hate you just as much now, in a strange way I wish you all the best. I sincerely hope you get what’s good for you in life but then again, of course it will, you always got what you wanted and you always will. I hate you for that, I hate you so much and yet I still hope you get everything you deserve.  You always had such light within you, L. I relied on so much of your light to combat my all-consuming darkness, but it wasn’t enough was it. You failed me but I need for you to know something very important. I need for you to never lose that light, you need it so you can stay strong so you don’t end up like me one day. I lost my fight but that doesn’t mean you need to follow behind me, never do that, L. Promise you’ll never lose, that would be too easy and as far as I’m concerned it would be unfair to me for you to fail at something so effortlessly when you have never failed at anything before, not really. We were supposed to go down in Paris yet you held on to that dream so tightly. If you couldn’t even give me the grace of failing that, then your light doesn’t deserve to go down at all, not when I lost after fighting so hard for so long. It would be an insult to me.  I’m not aware of your current opinions of me and quite frankly I don’t care but I think that despite my hatred for you, there’s still a very small part of me that never truly got over you. I think deep down, something in me still cares about you. Don’t mistake care for love, I don’t love you, those feelings are lost to me, however there is an ounce of care for you still. That even I cannot deny, as much as I would love nothing more than to do so. I’m sure this confession is confusing and harder to believe still but know that as much as it pains me to say, it is true. Believe me when I say no one is more bewildered by this than I am. Assuming you haven’t thrown this letter down by this point, I suppose I should be nothing if not slightly grateful that you’re still reading but then again I don’t really care. I’ll be dead and gone soon so it matters to me neither way. If anybody should be grateful it should be you. Grateful that I’ve mustered some sense of willingness in my final bout of sanity ‒ sanity which is just about non-existent these days ‒ to bother giving you one last goodbye, because that’s what this is, my dearest L., goodbye. The end of ‘Our Conversation’ if you will. I’m sorry it had to end like this.  Goodbye L.  N.

Theatre des Vampires 110 Rue Amelot Paris

Lestat's response to this letter which is obviously never sent

Transcript:

N. It’s been two nights since I heard of your death. I should have expected it would come to this eventually and yet, I couldn’t help but hold out hope you would see it through to the other side.  Did you suffer, in the end? I suppose you were overcome with the weight of your darkness. I saw it, I felt it, before I brought you over. It was unbearable and that was only in the beginning. It pains me to think how much it burdened you, I can only imagine how it weighed heavy in your heart, your mind.  E. told me everything. She told me how even the mention of my name was enough to drag you further into your madness. She told me of your punishments. I don’t regret leaving you there, I only wish there was more I could have done despite my absence. But I know they did their best to help you, they only ever did what was necessary and for that I am grateful. I never should have done it. I never should have brought you over into the Blood, I knew it was only cause for trouble, G. even warned me. But I had to, I couldn’t let you die. Even when I knew you would hate me after and I would hate you. I did it to save you but everything leads to ruin in the end.  I wish I could have saved you.  Have you found peace in the flames? Are you at rest at long last? I hope, above all else, that the darkness no longer plagues you, that your hurt and your hatred have been washed away by the flames of your funeral pyre.  I’m numb with the pain that your loss has given me. I hate you for it, yet I love you all the same as well. The grief is still so fresh and I don’t think it will ever truly heal. My love for you can never, will never die, N., no matter how much you hurt me, both in the past and in the present.  I miss you. We will find each other again, I’m sure of it.  Rest now, you are always with me, L.

@valenfangs

[astoundingbeyondbelief]

Kaiju Week in Review (March 10-16, 2024)

"It looks as though its Japanese producers, assisted by a stray American—fellow named Terry Morse, who is an alumnus of Hollywood's Poverty Row—made a close study of the old film, "King Kong," then tried to do substantially the same thing with a miniature of a dinosaur made of gum-shoes and about $20 worth of toy buildings and electric trains." —Bosley Crowther, reviewing Godzilla, King of the Monsters! for The New York Times

"The special effects are hardly special, but hey, what do you expect in a Japanese monster movie?" —Tony Kiss, reviewing Godzilla 1985 for the Asheville Citizen-Times

"Sure it's bad filmmaking. Sure it's a guy—actor Tsutomu Kitagawa—clad in a nearly vintage latex Godzilla getup and stomping through Tokyo, knocking down cardboard mini-buildings and upending toy-sized cars with his gnarly feet. But that's the point." —Bob Longino, reviewing Godzilla 2000 for The Palm Beach Post

Godzilla Minus One won the Oscar for Best Visual Effects at the 96th Academy Awards, sending a stunned Takashi Yamazaki (VFX supervisor), Kiyoko Shibuya (VFX director), Masaki Takahashi (3D CG director), and Tatsuji Nojima (VFX artist/compositor) to the Dolby Theatre stage. Said Yamazaki, reading from prepared comments in English, "To someone so far from Hollywood, the possibility of standing on this stage seemed out of reach." I could scarcely believe what I was watching myself, despite having given a presentation for a Wikizilla stream mere hours before on Minus One's very real chances of beating more expensive American contenders. Everything I said about its nomination goes triple for its victory; we'll be talking about this one forever. To those of us who remember when Godzilla was basically a joke in the American consciousness (including my Wikizilla colleague Darthlord1997, who had a speech of his own prepared), it's the ultimate vindication.

Never one to rest on his laurels, Takashi Yamazaki directed an ad for Ajinomoto about food waste which released this week. It features the unsubtly-named Foodlosslla attacking Tokyo and facing an Ultraman-esque defense team. As with Minus One, the ad's visuals are a clever combination of high-end (a detailed CG monster) and low-end (dropping plastic fruit on top of fleeing extras).

Last year, the 4Kids Flashback podcast interviewed Mike Pecoriello, producer and writer for the company's renditions of Yu-Gi-Oh! and Ultraman Tiga, and he delivered some major news about the latter. Although only 23 episodes of Tiga aired in the U.S., 4Kids dubbed the whole thing. At the time of the podcast's recording, he thought he made copies of all the episodes, but while that doesn't seem to be the case, he did provide 4Kids Flashback with the series finale. It's a good deal more serious than the episodes which aired, with the quips kept to a minimum. Let the hunt for the rest commence!

SciFi Japan has details on Kaiju Yarrow, a Japanese comedy doubling as a tourism ad for the city of Seki. The premise is very self-aware:

KAIJU YARROW! is set in Seki City, Gifu Prefecture. One day, 30 year old Ichiro Yamada, who works in the tourism department of a government office, is ordered by the mayor to produce a "local film.'' However, Yamada, didn't want to produce the typical "mediocre local movies'' that are everywhere nowadays, so he comes up with the idea of making a "monster movie'', which has been his life-long dream. However, his dreams develops into a major incident involving the city government...! Will Yamada be able to complete his life goal of making a monster movie??

Junichiro Yagi will direct; YouTuber Gunpee will star. Unknown quantities both when it comes to kaiju, so how this will turn out is anyone's guess.

Tickets for Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire have gone on sale in the U.S.—and as a reminder, the brief GKIDS theatrical release of The End of Evangelion wraps tomorrow.

[copperbadge]

At the theatre last night they had a no-outside-food-or-drink policy, so I figured eh, I can afford to support the theatre, I’ll leave my water bottle at home and buy one there. They charged me six dollars for it, and I was about to roll my eyes, but then they handed me a 25oz heavy-duty-aluminum BEAST (pictured above, cat for scale). I could kill a man with it empty. I’ve owned actual metal water bottles less large and durable and paid more for them. 

[ID: A picture of Polk the tiny six-pound tabby, standing on my duvet; she is sniffing the lid of a black aluminum water bottle with the logo for a company called PATH on the side. It is nearly as tall as she is, and as thick around as her head.]

[consanguinitatum]

For One Night Only: David at the RSC Fringe Festival (oh, and one other thing he probably didn't do...)

For today's post in "obscure things David Tennant did way back when," we'll need to travel back in time to the late 1990s. It was a busy time for David. By May 1997, he'd just wrapped up his first Royal Shakespeare Company repertory season (in which he simultaneously played Touchstone in As You Like It, Jack Lane in The Herbal Bed, and Alexander Hamilton in The General From America). This set of three plays had begun their runs in Stratford in early- to mid 1996; they then transferred over to London's Barbican Theatre, where they had ended their runs by mid-1997.

Programmes for The Herbal Bed, As You Like It, and The General From America

Next on David's theatre agenda was the role of Mickey in Hurlyburly (a play I've talked about before) which ran at the Queen's Theatre in London from August to November 1997. He then performed a one-off staged reading of Derek Jarman's Blue at the Chelsea Arts Theare on 16 November 1997 (which, by the way, is another little-known DT performance I want to explore!)

That was it for 1997, theatre-wise.

Then, beginning in March of 1998 - as I've explored previously - he began his run as Moon and Brindsley Miller in The Real Inspector Hound/Black Comedy. This double bill ran first at the Yvonne Arnaud Theatre in Surrey and then in London, first at the Richmond Theatre and then at the Comedy Theatre. That play finally wrapped in August 1998.

But a month before wrapping The Real Inspector Hound/Black Comedy, David had popped over to Stratford to do something interesting, something that's the focus of this thread. It was called For One Night Only, and - as it says on the tin - it was, indeed, for one night only!

First, though? A little history!

Around 1990, the RSC began to hold an annual summer festival called the Royal Shakespeare Company Fringe Festival. Intended as a showcase for RSC talent, it included a mix of events: short plays, devised pieces, stand-up comedy, concerts, etc., as well as new works making their Stratford debut. The festival lasted two weeks and saw actors, directors, stage managers, musicians and staff all taking part in more than 25 events. All the events were either on Sundays, or timed around RSC productions, so audiences could go see fringe shows after seeing the actors perform in their usual RSC roles.

Most of the events for 1998's festival took place in a specially adapted 100-seat rehearsal room at the RSC's 'alternative' theatre, The Other Place. But not all of them. Their opening night event - on Sunday, 19 July - was to take place at the Swan Theatre.

That opening night event? For One Night Only!

Starring Desmond Barrit, Emma Handy, and Amanda Harris as well as David, the launch event cost £4-£12 and began at 7:30 pm. It was called a "curtain raiser" as well as "aptly-named."

And just what was it about? Well, um....I know it was organized and compiled by its star, Desmond Barrit...and that it was supposed to take its audience on a journey through the theatre. These articles say so.

But that's about all I know. I wish I had more details.

I am, however, supremely lucky to own a piece of ephemera about this one night only event.

Here's the front and back of my For One Night Only flyer, and as I'm sure you'll notice, it promises "an evening of theatrical prose and poetry...and a little gossip!"

Great. Could you tell us a bit more, thanks?

While researching For One Night Only, I came across something else of interest, which I thought for a moment David might have been involved in - an event staged nine days before For One Night Only. But after researching this event in more detail, I don't think he was involved, after all. Such a shame, really. He would've been perfect!

On Friday, 10 July 1998, at 1 pm in the afternoon, some Royal Shakespeare Company members got together to do a fund raiser and preview of the upcoming Fringe in the forecourt of the Other Place. Called a Sonnetathon, this three-hour event featured various RSC members reading all 154 of Shakespeare's sonnets!

Now a Sonnetathon would've been right up David's alley, am I right? He'd have loved it! But I'm about 99% certain he wasn't there - and here's why. That Friday night at 7:30 pm, David was onstage in The Real Inspector Hound/Black Comedy at the Comedy Theatre in London, that's why!

But here's why I say 99%. It's not impossible to imagine he got up early that Friday (after doing a show the night before) and took the train in to Stratford to do the Sonnetathon - wrapped it up by 4pm, then hopped on another train back to London in time to make the 7:30 curtain up for The Real Inspector Hound/Black Comedy.

But you have to admit, it seems unlikely.

But The Real Inspector Hound/Black Comedy wasn't showing on Sunday, 19 July 1998, so David was able to get to Stratford and go onstage as part of 'For One Night Only' to open the Fringe...and then get back to London in time to go onstage once more the following night.

So now you know what I know about For One Night Only.

Of course I'll keep looking for more!

[knoxise]

the way shades linger -- a indie/folk playlist for hades game patroclus + achilles (patrochilles)

tracklist and matching lyrics under the cut (playlist icon by wolfythewitch); will be perpetually updated and adjusted

Memory - Aristos the Musical (I wish I had a secret; I wish I had a thousand; just so I could tell him every single one)

You Woke, I Waited - PigPen Theatre Co. (When we are older, we'll hear our bodies say; Oh; We'd find the mountain, survive)

A Long Way Past the Past - Fleet Foxes (I'll know that it's true; that rebirth won't work like it used to be; and oh, man, was it that much better then?)

Ghost's Fingers - Lambs & Wolves (We'll meet where this body ends; Have you ever met a ghost hiding his hands?)

Another Involved - Cold Weather Company (There's another involved, there's a pain in these walls)

Wait It Out - Imogen Heap (Everybody says that time heals everything; But what of the wretched hollow? The endless in between?)

Can You Stay - The Family Crest (Can you stay; Cause you have my heart; Cause you've been mine for all of time)

Open Water Reckless Fishes - Squalloscope (Left all the good ones behind; Not because I wanted to, but because it was time)

Will Tomorrow Ever Come - Cold Weather Company (If time is our debt, what do we owe? Will I see you soon?)

You, Anything For - The Soil & The Sun (You could be the one who I would bleed for; Salt in my wound and seethe for)

Meet You At The Gate - Jayne Trimble (I will meet you at the gate; I don't mind if I've to wait; Cause, oh, it takes a little time to taste the fruit of the vine; show me the way to your heart)

Fair - The Amazing Devil (And clinging to the moment, "Where have you been?" She'll whisper, "I've waited, oh, so long for you to come")

Two Shadows - Benjamin Verdoes (You wanted to unravel, you wanted to escape; Here's the last place we kissed; But we're not trying to speak)

O Icarus - Aristos the Musical (This moment seems like memory; I'm grieving breathing, and the grief is air)

I Design Disasters - Robert Hallow and The Holy Men (And when I am alone; I trace your shape in the air beside me; Give it time love, I know you're wanting more)

Ribcage - Ash the Ghost (There's a ghost of who we were living in my spine; Maybe if we run away we can bring it back to life; Let it sink into our lines and edges)

Calling It Love - Devil and the Deep Blue Sea (Am I another home you lost in the flood; and are you the only living thing that I will ever touch?)

A Better Time to Meet - Adrianne Lenker & Buck Meek (I never feel more found than when I'm wandering; But to hear that quiet voice, I'd give up everything; To follow the soft sighing of the sea)

Always Gold - Radical Face (Yeah, everything goes away; But I am gonna be here until forever, so just call when you're around)

Everybody Here Is A Cloud - Cloud Cult (There's so much more to see in our darkest places; Have you found where your place is?)

The Moon/Awake - The Dear Hunter (How'd we lose our place? Who decided out fate? I'd bare you my heart if I knew that it was still there; I'm too nervous to look)

Rule #33 - Pyre - Fish in a Birdcage (When I looked in your eyes, I said I know you'll be fine; Trust yourself and live it your way)

You and I - Domimi Foster (You and I always were waiting; For the inevitable fall; Can we have one hour longer than this?)

My Love Goes To The Grave - Jayne Trimble (I can't go back, I've done you wrong; This is where I belong, where I'm going you cannot come)

Empty Hall Sing Along - Woodpigeon (Since you came, I don’t know what way is up and where I stand; or where I can; words take on a different plan)

True Love - Emily Brown (True love, tell me what's in your soul; Right when you're most at peace, that's when you lose control)

Shadow Boy - Little Moon (I whisper out your name, knowing you can hear; And you are here; I am here)

The Night We Met - Lord Huron (I don't know what I'm supposed to do; Haunted by the ghost of you)

You Are - Mother Falcon (What is dear to me? You are what is dear to me)

Let's Go Home - Cold Weather Company (Though you know I'll always turn back to you; And wonder what a little more time could prove; I just can't keep being like this)

Resurrection Fern - Iron & Wine (In our days we will live, like our ghosts will live; like stubborn boys with big green eyes, we'll see everything)

Sleeping World - Vancouver Sleep Clinic (I'm a wandering soul, lost in a city of homes; I don't see anything else, cause I'm just learning to hold you above a sleeping world)

Death with Dignity - Sufjan Stevens (Spirit of my silence, I can hear you; but I'm afraid to be near you, and I don't know where to begin)

You Are the Moon - The Hush Sound (Darkness, darkness, everywhere, do you feel all alone?; You don't see what you possess, a beauty calm and clear)

[shmowder]

Imagine Rubins reaction to being chosen by the reader over the other healers/love interests. Like this poor man thinks so little of himself, so to be someone's first pick? He needs all the love in the world

Ilyyyy i love this idea!! was supposed to have a Haruspex and Andrey parts but... yeah. I decided to post it like this rather than leave it to rot in my drafts

Rubin with a reader who chose him over everyone

[fluff, hurt/comfort, romance, slight crack, petty conflict, jealousy]

[Stanislav Rubin x reader | One-sides Bachelor/Reader] [Gender-neutral Reader]

Choosing him over the Bachelor

Rubin never saw himself as anyone's first choice.

Not even their second or third either.

He usually imagined himself as the last resort anyone would ever go to.

Both as a doctor and as a person.

The Bachelor's arrival into town more than confirmed this–not that Rubin had any doubt to begin with–people would prefer to consult Dankovsky for medical aid despite him being a literal stranger to the town and its ways.

So why did it sting when Rubin watched as the same families who once entrusted him to treat their children, not spare him a single glance anymore ever since what they described as a "real" doctor arrived into town.

It's okay, he'd tell himself, it's what he's used to. People would seek Isidor before and never offer Rubin any gratitude despite him doing the majority of the work.

He should just be grateful that the Bachelor allowed him to act as his aid. He knows his own medical knowledge is lacking and outdated.

But heavens above, he wasn't dealt a better hand in life.

He is doing the best he can with the choices he was offered.

You were one of the few lights remaining in his life.

The way you'd wait for him outside the theatre-turned-hospital to finish his shift each day and walk him home despite the dangers.

The way you'd scold him for neglecting his health again, insisting he must rest and eat something or else.

It felt strange for him to be shown love.

To have someone care so much that they actually seem upset when he skips meals or only goes to bed when at the verge of collapsing.

Someone who is happy to see him each day, someone who doesn't constantly remind him of his flaws or what he lacks.

But life is too cruel, and his hope was short-lived.

One day, he was finishing his work and clocking out. Walking outside to the grey filled skies, soft droplets making small ripples in the wet streets as they fell down.

Rubin's gaze immediately went to the usual spot where you'd wait for him each time.

Only to not see you there.

Well, not alone; someone else is keeping you company.

The bachelor's coat hanged heavy on your shoulders as Daniil held the umbrella above both of your heads.

Ever the gentleman, he must have offered his coat to you when he saw you outside alone in the rain.

The umbrella was not big enough to cover a large distance, making the two of you stand intimately close.

Bodies almost pressing against one another.

Despair sinking like poison into the pits of Rubin's stomach, refusing to resurface as his limbs felt ten times heavier to move, weighting down his body.

The end of the day exhaustion wasn't helping either, courtesy of always stubbornly taking the longest possible shift in the hospital.

Rubin watched as Daniil's lips moved. He was saying something to you... whispering it like a snake against your ear. Coiling his scaley tail against Rubin's heart and squeezing it painfully tight.

The hand not holding the umbrella went up to hover above your waist, silently asking permission to place it there...

To hold you.

Rubin's legs moved so fast as he made his way across the street to you. The sound of his footsteps splashing against the wet concrete finally made the two of you take notice of his presence.

Maybe the look of desperation on his face gave him away, or maybe it was you mistaking the raindrops going down his face for something else, the growing wetness in his eyes didn't help either.

But the mere sight of him hurrying towards you made you immediately take the bachelor's coat off and hand it back to Daniil.

Leaving the dry safety of the umbrella below and meeting Rubin halfway through the street.

Hugging him amidst the pouring rain, your arms holding him reassuringly tight.

Burying your face into his chest.

His heart skips a beat as he feels your lips curl into a smile against the thin fabric separating you from his bare skin.

Telling him how you were waiting for him, how much you missed him, and wanted to go back to his own place already.

After the moment of confusion on Daniil's face passed, he seemed to understand the implications here as he cleared his throat in embarrassment and walked up to the two of you.

To Rubin's surprise, the Bachelor seemed to take it in stride as he explained how it was him who insisted on you taking his coat to stay warm.

Daniil ended the conversation with a short apology and offered his umbrella for the two of you to borrow as a way to make amends.

Moments ago, this seemed like the end of Rubin's world. The adrenaline from the emotional rush burned hot in his blood.

Yet it... was resolved so easily. You didn't even hesitate before walking to him, Daniil showed him grace and respect rather than disdain.

This kindness, he was not used to.

As if you'd slip away from his fingers one day, as if life will snatch you away the second he turns his back like everything else he has ever loved.

It was a hard pill to swallow, the fact you willingly chose him.

Chose to be with him, not as a last resort nor our of obligation or pity.

Not once or twice, but time and time again you'd choose him.

And each time it would stun him, as if all of the past loyalty and devotion you've shown was a mere fluke, a mistake on your part.

That this time it's the end, this time you'll definitely walk away. This time you'll reciprocate Andrey flirting or accept Eva's invite to spend the night.

This time... definitely this time you will shatter his heart.

Because that's what life taught him.

One day you must wake up and realise his true worth. See him as the lowly creature he stares at in the mirror.

The broken pathetic man he must be in your eyes.

And yet, you'd frown each time he spoke about himself in that town. Act offended on his behalf as if it was you he was insulting.

Ask him directly if he thinks you're that stupid? Why else would he assume you'd ever wake up when you weren't under any spell to begin with.

The truth is, you've always loved him since the start.

Since the moment you met him even.

What started as a puppy crush quickly flourished into deep admiration as you learned more and more about him

In your eyes, Stakh was strong. The kind of strength truly worth of respect.

You've never met anyone as strong as him, and you'll gladly remind him of that each and every single day.

That there is nothing to endure, you'll be with him through thick and thin.

That he isn't missing something, he isn't lesser than anyone in here.

He's whole as he is, worthy of love and kindness.

And day by day, your words echo in his mind.

So much that for a brief second, he can stand staring at the mirror without a pile rising in the back of his throat.

Remembering the praises you'd sing about his lovely brown eyes, akin to pools of honey under the sunlight.

The frown that seemed permanently etched into his features reminded you of the graceful sadness of a willow tree.

The reflection of a crescent moon on a lake's still surface without a single ripple in sight.

Maybe one day, the shackles of the past will have mercy and loosen themselves from around his mind.

But until then, you'll gladly love him enough for both of you. Until then you'll stay by his side, choose him over and over again until he understands you're here to stay.

[patricedumonde]

Deep Dive: Maria Koshkaryova’s Debut as Marie

December 2023 — Maria Koshkaryova debuted as Marie in Bolshoi Theatre's The Nutcracker, as a first year member of the company. In what is arguably the hardest interpretation of the Sugarplum Fairy Variation, Masha can let out a sigh of big relief as she had a strong, technical performance.

Some of the clips from Masha's interpretation will be analyzed side-by-side Nina Kaptsova's. Growing up watching the Ovation special (US television special where all Nutcracker versions are compared every December), I grew familiar of Nina Kaptsova's interpretation, so we will be using her as reference.

I, firstly, want to say that Masha did a wonderful job in her debut. This is, in my opinion, her strongest debut of the season. There are very minor corrections in this deep dive. In my comparison to Nina, I think she just needed more confidence and perhaps this is something that only comes with time. With her abilities though, that kind of "head held high" presence could make a noticeable impact on her performances.

Props to Masha for these sections of the variation. These are movements that are seemingly simple but the bourrée moving back was very finely done, and she had a beautiful port de bras where she also engaged her whole torso into the movement. The same thing with the arabesque to the bourrée, she does a beautiful twist with her torso. To me, this is ballet! I don't know how to explain it, it's the parts that look and feel sublime.

Completing these series of turns is a feat in itself. I believe this is an improvement since her Gamzatti. She looks more self-assured in these turns and you can tell that her shoulders are no longer going up during the turns. My favorite part here is the extra cambré after the last Italian fouetté.

In a variation like this, I think there's more than enough time for embellishments. Especially, with the music being slow, there was time to really relish this arabesque. As we can see with Nina Kaptsova's side where she stays in arabesque slightly longer. While Masha does linger a bit, I think an ever so slightly higher arabesque could have prolonged her balance en pointe here.

However, I actually prefer the choice of a mini cambré instead of a straight torso, so kudos to Masha for this choice.

The strong turner that she is, Masha elevates the pirouette in the last diagonal by finishing on only one standing leg instead of the conventional fourth position. Again, you can see her self-assurance here and I believe turns are her forte so this was a perfect variation for her.

After a very impressive series of pique manege turns around the Bolshoi stage, she finishes in a clean and stable tendu devant. No preference here for the ending, I liked these endings equally but what about you?

Overall, this performance excites me and this was surely a boost to Masha. This is the kind of performance everyone expects from her and what an absolute gift this was! Congratulations to Masha on this debut!

Credits to Maria Koshkaryova who posted her variation via Instagram.

[somereaderinblue]

Web of Morality

-AU where MJ’s part of the group since childhood, Gwen is bitten by the spider, the symbiote is discovered sooner & Felicia decides to commit a heist sooner; four small changes that made everything different.

-MJ’s part of the group as a homage to USM & to balance out the ratio. 2 boys + 2 girls but also 2 science nerds + 2 theatre kids, making Harry feel less left out.

-(TW: very brief mention of past abusive parent)

-I will not stand for love triangles. Thus, MJ & Gwen are close, practically sisters. MJ’s the one who taught Gwen how to vent via drums & Gwen’s dad was the one who arrested MJ’s dad when he went too far.

-Naturally, after the powers kicked in, Gwen told MJ, who decided the best way to deal with this is to become a hero.

-Gwen is reluctant but after Peter loses Uncle Ben (maybe she could’ve saved him & spare Peter the pain) & her dad has a close call (another one of many, will the next one be his last?), she decides to become Spiderwoman.

-MJ is her girl in the chair, codename Jackpot.

-During summer break, Harry follows his dad out of town while MJ & Gwen claim to be doing their own thing (re: getting used to crimefighting), leaving Peter alone.

-He’s wandering outside, trying not to think abt the bills Aunt May failed to hide when he hears a commotion in the alley.

-The rest is a blur but at the end of it, he’s nursing a nasty shiner & being thanked by a pretty lady in a catsuit. Maybe he’s sporting a concussion too bcz when she asks what he wants in return, he says a hot dog but only if she eats with him.

-Maybe Felicia landed harder than she thought too bcz she finds herself on a rooftop with the kid, trying to make sure mustard doesn’t get on her gloves.

-Instead of calling the cops on her, Peter comes back just to hang out.  A friendship is struck. One night, her grappling gun is damaged & Peter fixes it. The next night, he shows her a notebook full of gadget ideas.

-When someone tries to mug Peter, Felicia saves him if only so she could put his ass through basic training. It takes a lot of coaxing but soon, Peter & her have parkour races across rooftops.

-(If she lets Peter win a few, that’s for her to know.)

-Summer ends, school starts & Vulture strikes.

-Since Peter isn’t Spiderman, he has the time & space to question Vulture's vendetta against Norman. Gwen offhandedly mentions his ‘stealing my work’ rants, which she totally heard from her dad!

-Either way, the seed is planted. This leads to Peter & Harry meeting Otto, who does a double-take bcz Peter’s the spitting image of his old friend, Richard.

-Otto still has lingering fondness for his dad & enough conscience to admit the meeting between Adrian & Oscorp.

-Another seed of doubt is planted in the group’s mind sooner than canon. This seed leads to actions that naturally bring consequences.

-MJ & Gwen are determined to uncover more dirt but they can’t tell Harry & Peter what they’re doing, so the boys assumed they don’t care & snoop on their own. Both pairs make different discoveries.

-Gwen bumps into Black Cat at ESU labs & accidentally releases the symbiote while Peter deciphers a file left by his dad, revealing his research, reasons for leaving....and dying.

-In this AU, the symbiote is more neutral. Still feeds on emotions, but not strictly negative ones. Gwen’s emotions don’t interest it since her civilian life is much stabler. So, it slips onto Peter at school.

-Peter seeks out Felicia bcz he’s terrified that Norman will hurt Gwen if he goes to her dad. While parkouring to calm down, the symbiote reveals itself.

F: So that’s where the alien ooze went. P: YOU TRIED TO STEAL ALIEN OOZE?! F: It was business. P: You- wait....OH MY GOD I’M WEARING ALIEN OOZE!

-Then Harry calls to tell him that his dad’s freaking out bcz the alien ooze is gone & oh lord, Peter is wearing said ooze.

-He should return it-

.

.

.

-Return it to who? The company that stole another man’s life’s work? The company that got his & Eddie’s parents killed??

-Hell. Fucking. No.

-Once, Felicia joked that he was her sidekick. Resolve set, he asks if she’s willing to be his mentor.

-So now Gwen has to deal with her usual rogue gallery & the anti-hero Venom who’s deadset on ruining Norman Osborn.

[aziraphales-library]

Hello there! Hoping it’s not too much trouble but I read a couple of actor fics (Crowley and Aziraphale are actors in shows/movies etc) and really loved them. Slow Show and That Gay Pirate Show, I loved them, the writing, atmosphere, setting! I was wondering if there were any recommendations? Also just some personally favorites with that kind of vibe would be happy additions to my list! Thank you very much

Hi! We have an #actors au tag that you can check, and you'll also find fics with a similar vibe on our #famous crowley and #famous aziraphale tags. Here are some more actor fics to add to the collection...

Let's spend the night together by HolRose (M)

Actor, A.J. Crowley is having a perfectly normal day when he is hailed in the street by someone he hasn’t seen for over thirty years. His reaction is initially one of dismay, but as the two old friends spend a revelatory night in each other’s company, facts come to light that will enable him to piece his fractured life back together, and old wounds will finally be healed.

An AU set in Northern Ireland during the Troubles, and London in 2018.

This is a human AU that can be read as a stand-alone story without reference to the other works in the series.

All the World's a Stage by Ineffable lawr (M)

Agnes, Nutter, an eccentric director with an almost prophetic ability to create hit theatrical shows brings together a cast of wonderfully talented and unique actors to create a new production of "A Midsummer Night's Dream." Aziraphale is a classically trained method actor, known for being a bit of a diva, and Crowley is a musical theatre actor known for being a spontaneous and bold performer with a bit of a bad reputation. The journey from audition to opening night will be a rocky one, but they might just end up finding something wonderful.

no more unhandsome by Waywarder (M)

Aziraphale and their best friend Anathema are starting their own Shakespeare Company, and Aziraphale dreams of playing Rosalind in their inaugural production of As You Like It.

But then rival actor (and admitted flash bastard) Anthony J. Crowley shows up at auditions.

Welcome to the As You Like It-inspired Good Omens Shakespeare Company AU! Thanks for being here!

To The Stars by Fyre (T)

In 1999, a television programme aired that would quickly become a cult classic. 20 years on, join the crew of the NSS Galaxy Quest as they embark on the most exciting adventure of their lives.

Galaxy Quest AU - Update schedule - every Sunday

The Only One I Still Know How to See by Furuba_Fangirl (E)

Aziraphale has been an admirer of Anthony J. Crowley for years. However, the gap between audience member and stage actor begins to thin when they are given the chance to officially meet.

All's Fair in Love, War, and Show Business by sapphose (T)

Crowley is given one last chance to save his floundering acting career when he is offered a role in a new musical adaptation of the beloved book, "The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch." Unfortunately, he'll be acting opposite Aziraphale, the ex he hasn't spoken to in over a decade and with whom he is definitely not still in love. When Crowley's past comes back to haunt him, he and Aziraphale must decide whether to repeat their actions from years prior, or to take their unexpected second chance and try again.

- Mod D

[morganaa-writings]

Romeo x Male!Reader x P (NSFW)

Note/warnings: So it's my first time writing smut so it might not be the greatest, there's a bit of a scene setting at the start, P learning about the readers anatomy through visual practice and well...horni guys r horni lmaoo

Minors DNI

Panting and footsteps was all that was heard as you and your companion were running from a puppet that basically sucked all of your throwables and health vials, with nothing on you at this point you and your friend rushed into the Estella Opera House and shut the two large doors behind you.

"Who's idea was it to try THAT?!" your breathless voice spat at P, the one you picked up from the hotel. P looked at you with a slight glare before pointing at you, since he was a puppet he wasn't that emotional but he was learning as you helped him sometimes at the hotel (Sophia kindly asked you and you didn't have the heart to say no to her). You gave a look back, "If we had just threw that one last one at its face we could've beat it!" you argued back as P walked closer to you at looked directly into your eyes before letting out a huff, "you are the one that missed..." "gah-!" you choked before sighing, it's true that you did miss the shot, he wasn't wrong about that. "Alright, alright, I'm sorry for snapping... I was just...scared" you said softly, P's gaze softened before he gave your hand a soft squeeze, from only knowing him for a few days you grew close with the puppet and came to enjoy his company.

"Right, there should be a stargazer somewhere around here, yeah? Lets find one" you spoke and pulled P along by his hand and walked towards another set of two doors, "damn..locked" you hissed as you placed your hands on your hips, you saw P walk past and readied his legion arm but you grabbed his arm, "wait a minute, pretty boy. We don't want the whole place crashing down on us, let's find a different way through", you got your sword out just in case any other enemies decided to show up and not realising the stare P was giving you. 'Pretty boy?' he thought, he knew it was a compliment and that you didn't mean much of it but something stirred in him when you said that. He liked it and wouldn't mind you saying it again.

He shook his head and walked to your side and pulled out his own sword, standing by your side as if something was ready to attack at any time.

Aaaaaand of course you ran into trouble with prancing ballerina puppet girls and singing spider women because WHY would things be easy for you two? You and P ran faster than ever to the two golden doors and P pulling them open before grabbing you and closing the doors behind you. You groaned as your feet hurted you, there was no stargazer because of course not, you sat on the floor agianst the chair and rubbed your hands on your knees as P crouched next to you looking concerned. "(Y/n)..." his soft voice called, you waved him off with a smile "I'm okay, P. Just fucking exhausted..." you sighed as you looked around the massive room. It was some sort of theatre stage for shows you reckon and looked to your right to see two non moving puppets, as if someone placed them there for a reason. You frowned as you pulled yourself up and walked towards the stage with P following close to you, you jumped a little as the play started with the one standing up and placing something in the one sitting down before it stood up and bowed.

P watched with you as you turned to each other, the floor started to rumble and before you could register you were pulled away by P as a giant puppet dropped down to the floor and looked at you two. "You have got to be fucking kidding me...we aren't exactly ready to fight this thing!" you exclaimed as P readied his word, "stay" was all he said as he went to attack the giant puppet. "No way! I'm not letting you fight this thing alone-", "STAY" was what he yelled making you jump as P never yelled, he really didn't want you to get hurt or worse, killed.

All you could do is watch as you really did feel the exhaustion coming on now, luckily P manage to take the giant puppet down...and it exploded. You blinked as you watched debris fall and the curtains were set alight but it wasn't over. You noticed a blonde puppet within the larger on, assuming it was male, he looked up at P before jumping out the pocket he was nestled in and aimed what looked like a scythe like weapon. You couldn't even keep track as their blades clashed with one another, you starting to worry as P clearly was getting slower and slowler. You gasped as the blonde puppet kicked P to the floor and aimed his weapon at P who was twitching- his legion arm was wrecked. You groaned as you ran towards them, you didn't care if you were striked down you HAD to save P.

Your heart raced as you swung your own sword to the puppets weapon, a loud clang was heard as you pushed agianst the puppets own strength- this wasn't getting better. "Leave...us...ALONE!" you growled as you pushed more into him.

Suddenly, the puppet easied its strength as he stared at you almost recognizing you..."(Y/n)?" his voice called. Wait, what? How did this puppet know your name? "How do you...?" "It's me, Romeo!" his voice rang almost happily? "I- We lived at the Monad Charity house with Carlo!" the puppet almost seemed to smile at you. "I...I don't reconigse you...", he seemed to falter at that, "I see...it has been years so I'm not surprised."

You were then pulled into a hug by the taller puppet. "But it's good to see you..." he whispered as he glanced over your shoulder, "...and Carlo." he finished his sentence. "Carlo..? No, that's P..." you replied, "P? So that's what he's called you...", Romeo loosened his grip on you slighty but still held you close. You turned to P as P glared at the puppet holding you. This stirred something in P...was it jealously? He didn't like the way the other male was holding you and it seemed like Romeo noticed. "P...we don't have to fight. We vowed to fight by each others side with (Y/n) in the charity house..." he spoke as he looked down at you, "and (Y/N)...you've grown."

He looked at you up and down making you blush, it felt like he was checking you out. He let out a chuckle, "we made a promise...all three of us that we'd be by each others side no matter what." You shook your head, it felt like you knew him but you couldn't quite remember, if you did grow up with him like he says then now what?

You gently pushed Romeo away, "this is all..." you trailed off before being pulled into a sterdy chest, looking up you saw P with an almost...child like pout on his face? Was he jealous? "We don't have to fight...in fact join me. Both of you. Like old times...kind of." Romeo spoked as P pouted more, "No." was all he said as Romeo only gave a soft gaze. It was quiet before he spoked up, "you're aiming to become human right? I'm going to guess you don't have...all the parts" there was a hint of teasing in the taller puppets voice. P tilted his head not understanding as Romeo continued, "we- i mean, me, Carlo and you, (Y/N) also promised to share ourselves with each other as a sort of..pact. We never got to do it with the events that took place and...it would be nice to complete that pact. I've missed you both and not to mention, have you ever wondered what parts you'd have, P?"

There was that question again, P looked at you confused as it took you a few minutes to register what Romeo meant. Then your face went bright red. "W-WHAT? W-WAIT...are implying using MY body as way to...'show' P what he'd have? DOWN THERE?!" you exclaimed making Romeo chuckle, "Of course if you're comfortable with that, I would never want you to feel uncomfortable". Your face was red as P turned to you, "what...would I have?" and there he goes, thanks Romeo.

"I..w-well since your guy you...ahem..." you felt so awkward, "you would have a...manhood let's say!", P tilted his head, "Manhood? What does it look like?" He asked innocently, you glared at Romeo and got a small smirk in response.

"Puppets don't have them as there's no use but humans...they use it for procreating or for simple pleasure." Romeo explained as P blinked and immediatly said, "I...want to please (Y/n)..." you immediatly looked at him, "y-you do?!"

P nodded making you fluster up more, "I..." it wasn't a lie that you were attracted to him but to show him you in all your glory no less?! I mean, this could only be educational, right? P will one day be a full human so maybe doing this will help him in the future? Wait, what?! You couldn't believe you were thinking of it! You felt a P grasp your hand and lean in close, almost shy like, "I...want to learn and...please you..." his voice was small, as if not wanting to say the wrong thing. You gulped as you looked at the two puppets. "it's...just us right? in this room?" you asked Romeo who gave a firm nod, "yes, just us." You looked down at your own feet before lookin up at the puppets, "o-okay...I'll do it..."

P strightened up as if excited and Romeo moved close to you gently holding your hand, "it's going to be okay, you can stop at any time..." he reassured you. You nodded.

You couldn't believe you were doing this, you were placed between the two puppets and sitting on the floor with Romeo behind you as you were in between him with P facing you and sitting on his knees watching you intently. You took a deep breath and began to unbutton your shirt, luckily you were only wearing that and everyday pants so it wouldn't take too long to get undressed. You felt cold metal hands gently pull the shirt from your shoulders, you shivered as the cold air hit your naked skin as you kept your gaze to the ground, face burning. P watched as Romeo reached his hand outward to him, he went to reach out and hesitated "it's okay..." Romeo said softly, P nodded and placed his hand in Romeos before it was pulled to you chest, P could almost feel the heat coming off your body and even hearing a slight thud- that must've been your heart. He place his hand on where your heart is and felt your heart beat in a rhythmic pattern, sometimes it skipped a beat.

Is this what it was like to have a human heart? He wanted that, it felt good, almost music like to him. He moved closer and had the sudden the urge to softly grope at your chest which made you bite your lip, stifling a moan. P noticed and it stirred something in him again- he wanted more. He wanted to hear your voice. You gasped as you felt Romeos cold hand touch your hip making you arch your back, "C-cold..." you whimpered, "I can warm you up..." Romeo whispered in your ear as you heard gears rolling inside his chest and feeling sudden warmth coming from his hand, you let out a soft sigh. You gazed up at P in shyness, "You can...touch more...I don't mind" you gave him a smile. P nodded and closed in on you and used his legion arm- which thankfully was okay right now- as he gently traced your skin, his lips slightly a part as he softly gazed at you.

He felt his mechanical heart turn as if beating. Gaining some confidence, he moved his thumb on his legion side and pressed it against your bud making you whimper. P stopped before doing it again making you whimper again, he realised you liked this and kept gently touching you as well as doing it to your other bud making you arch your back a little more.

You felt Romeos hand slowly slip down your hip and grazing your pants, "ready for this?" he asked softly, you nodded slowly "j-just give me a second..." P stopped touching you, you looked up at him before leaning into your face. "You make...nice sounds..." he spoke, his lips getting closer to yours. "I-I do?" you asked breathlessly, he nodded "can I...kiss you, P?" you asked as P perked up and nodded pretty enthusiastically. You leaned in and cupped his face before leaning in and softly pressing your lips against his, something ticked inside him and he felt warm. "Heh, close your eyes buddy" Romeo spoke up seemingly enjoying the show, P took the advice and closed his eyes as he felt you kiss deeper. He jumped a little as he felt something soft and wet touch his lips, it must be your tongue and as if on command he opened his lips a little allowing you enter him.

You softly moaned as so did he which was...new. No one complained though as P leaned in more to taste you his hand resting against your thigh before he felt something hard as he pulled away with a string of saliva following after. He looked down and saw your hard on, he glanced up at you and Romeo.

You allowed Romeo to unbutton your trousers, you leaned back into the taller puppet as he pulled your member out which was now hard and leaking precum. P looked down at it, almost entranced by it. This is what he would have when he becomes human. He saw how hot and bothered you were getting and felt something turn inside his stomach which shouldn't be possible but it felt good to him. Romeo gently wrapped his fingers around your leaking member and began to slowly rub it up and down making you gasp as you leaned futher into Romeo, he used his free hand to gently place under your chin to make you looked him from the side as he leaned his head in and kissed you, unfortunately he wasn't soft like P and his lips couldn't move than much but that didn't matter as you softly licked his cold lips and pressed your own against his.

P pouted feeling a little left out as he wanted to touch you too, looked to see your member twitching slightly in pleasure, he had gotten the sudden urge to lick it and leaned down and gave it a soft lick making you gasp in the kiss with Romeo before you looked down at him. He looked up innocently, tilting his head with a small smile. Well...at least he was getting more confident. But where the hell did he learn to do that?

"A-ah, P...thats- mmm...." you gasped as P wrapped his fingers around your member and gave another lick, you grasped his hair as you panted and gasped. Oh this was doing something to the gears in P, he loved seeing like you like this and he wanted more, if only he had a member of his own he could get the same treatment but for now he was more than happy giving you pleasure.

But he wanted to feel you against him, he sat up and proceded to take off his coat, "(Y/n)...I want to hold you too..." Romeo chuckled, "of course, can't be selfish now, can I?" you looked at P before moving into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your head in his neck. He could feel the warmth of your face and your member against his own groin which made him feel excited. You ran your fingers through his hair, "good boy..." you whispered into his ear and you felt him...shiver? That was new. "Say it again..." he whispered back, "you're a good boy, P...you're doing so well..." you praised as he hugged you tight.

You felt pressure on your back as you felt Romeos hand grasp your member again and began to rub faster this time making you gasp, P also grasped your member making you whimper in pleasure. "A-ah...M-mhm...!" you felt yourself coming to a close which made you feel a bit embarrsed because did it really take two puppets to touch you in such a way for you to be putty in their hands? Yes it did. You panted as you felt their cold hands grope your hips, thighs and anything else they could touch. "I...really want to be human. I want to please you..." P mumbled again, pulling you in for a kiss as you felt his tongue against yours.

Romeo simply chuckled as he left small kisses on your shoulder and back, he along with P kept pleasing you as you almost felt yourself tip over the edge. "N-Ngh..g-guys I can't hold it in longer..." you panted out, cheeks flushed as you felt them go faster making you dig your finger nails into P's skin.

You felt P kiss your neck as you suddenly released onto the hands of the puppets as well as letting out short breaths trying to come back down from your high. P unwrapped his hand and looked at as he saw white warm liquid run down his hand, you blushed at the sight "ah, heres my shirt..." you gave up your shirt to help clean P's hand which he happily let you but for he dis, he asked, "What is it?" making you gulp, "j-just stuff that comes o-out..." god, you felt embarrased just trying to explain this to him. P stared at the liquid before going to lick it, "w-wah! N-no!" you exclaimed as you went an cleaned his hand, face red as an tomato. Romeo simple snorted with laughter making you glare at him from the side, he held up his hands in defence. P spoke up, "(Y/N)? I...want to be human because I want to feel you and make you feel good" he said as he pulled you close, resting his face in the crook of your neck. Your gaze softened as you hugged him back, "I...I would like that..." you whispered back.

"Hm, it seems we're done here-" Romeo started but you interrupted and turned to him, "Romeo...what's going to happen now?" you asked as he shrugged, "I don't think you two are exactly in the best shape to fight me, especially you (Y/N)" you pouted at this and grumbled, "hey now..." He chuckled and planted a peck on your cheek

You got back in your clothes as did P, you couldn't look at him as you felt shy but P was staring at you with a soft gaze. "Could we...have more practices?" he asked walking closer to you, you looked at him and blinked before slowly turning to Romeo who was snickering, "I'm going to slap you...this is YOUR doing." P smiled softly, "I wouldn't mind coming back for more lessons..." You turned to him, "eh?" he gave you a peck on the cheek before making his way to the exit, you blinked turned to Romeo before turning back to P and running after him, "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU WANT TO COME BACK?!" you exclaimed. Romeo snickered as he watched you run after P.

"It was good to see you again (Y/N)...Carlo..."

[saphhicwitchbitch]

Six

Another Steddie imagine au. This time Steve and Eddie work in a theatre company and this year they are doing a Chicago play performance. So Steve as a pretty boy gets cast as one of the cell block tango ladies. He specifically plays Annie, the one that sings ”Six”. Why this is important? We get to that in a bit.

So Eddie as a very dramatic, energetic person who loves performing has had a main role for the last few years. However, this year is different because his manager decided to give him the challenge of not being in the spotlight for once, instead, he will be a dancer for the cell block tango. At first, Eddie is pissed. Like come on, he has talent that can be used, not just dancing for one song. So on his way to his first rehearsal he’s in a bit of a mood. But he goes along with it and acts amicable when needed, treats his instructors nice, and comes to find that he actually likes learning the dances.

A few weeks later practise is going fine, apparently the dancers playing the 6 girls will be ready to rehearse their partner dances soon. Which means that the next few sessions are dedicated to the individual moves each of the men do when the ladies are dancing with them. Eddie finds out that he is partnered to Annie, which is cool. The start of his dance is literally standing, then laying on the floor while Annie does her routine, then the main tango steps that they were all taught (basically the same dance she does in the movie). He thought that this was going to be easy.   

He was wrong.

When they introduced the cast playing the main six girls, Eddie knew he was screwed. Because in the mains was one of the most gorgeous men he ever has the blessing of laying his eyes upon.

Steve. 

This Steve is wearing a very little amount of clothes : booty shorts that barely cover anything, a crop top/lingerie bralette thing, and thigh harnesses. So of course, Eddie is enamoured with him. This gift in the form of a man reaffirms to him that this is not as bad as he initially believed it to be. There is literally a Greek god standing in front of him. So while he doesn't get to use the full extent of his talent on stage, at least he can ogle Adonis.

While waiting to get paired up with whoever is playing Annie, Eddie is approached by Steve. They strike up a conversation where there is defiantly flirting on both parts, a few teasing lines thrown at each other and overall an amazing conversation. At this point Eddie is fully convinced Steve is a true angel, the perfect man for him. 

Then partners are announced. 

Now Eddie knew he was dancing with Annie, he was prepared for this already. What he wasn’t prepared for was the fact that Steve plays Annie. 

Practise starts, “Pop” lady and her partner get through their section, then it is Eddie and Steve’s turn. 

And Holy Fuck.

“ I met Ezekiel Young from Salt Lake City about two years ago “

One foot in front of the other, Steve struts towards Eddie. His voice dripping with lust as he sings on the most perfect raspy voice that has ever existed. He comes to a stop in front of Eddie, lays his hand upon eddies chest and slowly starts to stoke downwards. His touch light and teasing, fingers gently dancing along the material as they head further south. Then he reaches up again, hands grasp firmly on Eddies shoulder and push him violently to the floor. Eddie looks up in time while on the ground to see Steve’s decent. Fucking beautiful. Steve slowly slides into the splits over Eddies body. Coming to rest, lightly sitting mere inches above Eddie’s rapidly developing boner. The song continues, and Steve keeps singing, seemingly unaware of Eddies crisis. But then it gets worse. Steve leans down onto Eddie, pressing his whole upper body against eddies chest ,face coming closer and closer each lyric that is sung...

“ I fixed him his drink as usual”

Teeth graze the side of eddies neck as Steve bites into the red cloth that is tucked just under a strap near his throat. It is seductive, tantalising, alluring. Slow and sensual as every nerve in eddies being is set alight by the rough drag of the material being raked across his neck from Steve’s teeth.

“ You know, some guys just can't hold their arsenic”

The energy changes, slow seduction has been halted. Now they must switch to the hot, animalistic, sexual nature of the tango. They grip each other tight. Eyes focused only on each other. Minds empty of anything but the raw passion they have for the other as they twist, turn, kick, and dip to the rapid tempo. Consumed with one another for the rest of the dance. Souls promising the other that more will happen as the final beats of the tango come into fruition. The music stops. They stop dancing. Panting. Breathless. Gasping for air. One of Eddies hand is clutching onto Steve’s thigh, pulling it up and close around his hips. The other gripping onto the small of Steve’s back, holding him up in their final position while Steve’s hands are desperately clinging to Eddie’s chest.

Steve catches his breath, and looks up towards Eddie. His eyes becoming sultry once more and a grin spreads across his face.

 “ how about we do that again sweetheart?”