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potol0ver · 1 year ago

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Ask; Hello, I read you have your request open, and I really like how you write about Erik. So, if you feel in the mood, I like some scenario (GN or AFAB) in which y/n starts to work ato Opera House like an skilled effect artist and one night, when y/n finally has some time free and alone, Erik found her playing something like ROxxanne tango with the cello, because she play it but only for herself.

Tags; Fluff, GN reader (you and yours),

A/N; Hey, I’ve been silent for a while and I’m sorry for that. I wasn’t motivated to post any fics and was in writers block. Now I need to focus on my health because a serious health concern has come up for me, so I apologize for continuing to be radio silent. I’m a little out of it while I’m writing this so I’m sorry, Please injoy this fic, it will most likely be the last for a while. (You may continue sending asks just be warned I might not be able to get to it for a couple of reasons.)

With a heavy sigh you put aside your art peice, a stage mask that just wasn’t holding up to your standards. You’ve painted over your dried paint and wiped it off to many times to count already. Your hands had become shaky long ago as you sit at your desk that was in an obscure corner of the Opera house.

You push your chair back that gave a screech and sluggishly walked back to your small room in the Opera house. Thankfully it looks like none of your roommates are in the room which means you can properly relax and wind down. Most importantly in your mind, it means you can practice your cello without disturbing anyone.

Quickly you set up your space, adjusting your chair, setting up your music stand, making sure your bow has enough rosin. Flipping to your favorite cello peice you take a breath and start playing. Letting your fingers and how move on the strings fluently, you we’re getting entranced by your cello. Unknown to you, you weren’t the only one being entranced.

Somewhere deep in the Opera house, the Phantom can hear your playing faintly thanks to the echoing of the monumental walls. Intrigued, Erik quietly yet softly made his way to you until he could hear you clearly. Leaning against a wall he let his eyes shut and get wrapping up in your music, loving where you crescendoed and adding your own flare.

When you got to the end of the piece and pause your playing to find another to play, he finally peeked a look at you. He thought you would’ve been apart if the orchestra, but he didn’t recognize you, it also looked your your cello while well kept, was quite old to. Erik became very fascinated by you now, he started by “testing” you. Slipping new and harder pieces for you to try, and if you did play them he’d be happily surprised with how well you make the notes come to life.

Next, after you passed his “test”, he worked hard to see if he can find you a proper newer cello. Only the best for his new found talent, that day by day he was slowly falling for. The more he became infatuated with you he got more determined to find a cello to match your one of a kind soul.

After a while he did find a very good cello, a one of a kind, just for you. So, Erik made quick work to insure it’s yours. He personally polished and cleaned it, making sure no scratches were on the instrument. While you were working hard at your props job for the play, he made diligent work to set up the present in your new room. That of course was also a present from him. How could he let his musical muse share a room with a bunch of strangers?

Leaning the cello against the bedside table he placed a rose and a note next to it. Despite watching you for so long and being so devoted to you, he never got to the courage to say anything to you. Hopefully the grand presents will be a good first impression.

Groggily you walk back to your room, only to be told you don’t sleep there any more. Which after the long day you had of making props wasn’t good for your anxiety. As you followed the directions to your new room, you think about how you could’ve gotten on the bad side of someone to get an even more run down place to sleep in than what you have already had.

All of those thoughts quickly got washed away when you opened the door to your new room. It had everything you needed to live alone, a small kitchen/living room, a nice bedroom with a decent sized closet, even a space to practice your cello. You were so stunned at what you did to deserve this new room that you didn’t question how everything you own was already there.

Quickly, your eyes caught the sight of the luxurious cello next to your new bed. Gently you caressed it, looking over all of the fine details, it looked like a masterpiece that was specifically catered to you. The red rose next to the cello caught your eye next, along with the letter that had a skull stamp.

Carefully opening the letter you scanned the words, a mixture of your emotions sitting in your stomach as you read.

“My dear, I have heard you playing for a while now, and I must say the way you make the notes come to life is hauntingly stunning. You have caught my interest in the best way.

I know you haven’t seen me or heard me before, which is why I hope your new room and house warming gifts are a good first impression. If you wish, I can also arrange a seat for you in the opera’s orchestra so you don’t have to continue working in the messy arts department.

P.S. If it’s not to much to ask, I would like to hear back from you, so please consider us to be pen pals now. Also, if you ever need a quiet place to practice you can always come to my lair to whine down, maybe that way we can play music together.

~Yours devotedly O.G.”

A single thought ran through your mind as a mixture of unease and swooning butterflies ran through you…

What have you gotten yourself into?

#erik destler #erik poto #phantom of the opera #erik destler x reader #erik x reader #phantom x reader #phantom Drabble #phantom of the opera x reader

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too-antigonish · 6 months ago

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The Great S7 Rewrite

An attempt at summarizing the rocky ground on which we some of us stand following this rather epic post yesterday: Prophetic words from Morse in Oracle?

People had so many interesting things to say that I though it would be nice to keep this discussion public for now.

On the most basic level, Season 7 has two overarching storylines:

Opera Storyline: The one with Morse, Violetta, Ludo, and the mysterious accidental deaths

Towpath Murders: The one with Morse and Thursday fighting mainly over whether or not Carl Sturgis did it.

Then you have the episodic murders for each episode:

Oracle: The math TV program, Dept. of Latent Potential, women’s lib conference, and misogynist professors in Oracle

Raga: The Indian restaurant, restaurant critic, gay wrestlers, racist poker game organizing politicians in Raga

Zenana: The coming together of the opera storyline and the towpath murder storyline in Zenana.

If, theoretically, you wanted a do-over for S7, what would you need to consider? Below are some of the issues raised in discussion yesterday:

Bone of Contention #1: Opera Rules

S7 may or may not have been asking us to view its world according to “opera rules.” If it wasn’t, then the storylines were just outrageous. If it was, then they didn’t do an adequate job of either:

Signaling that we needed to see this world through that filter

Making the story robust enough that you didn’t *need* to see the opera references to “get” the storylines. (As Durian pointed out: Ride works even if you don’t realize that it’s Gatsby, but S7 doesn’t work if you don’t realize it’s opera. It doesn’t stand on its own.)

I think actual S7 tried to signal that we were in Opera World (#1) by:

Using theatrical techniques (voiceovers, mise en scene/ tableaux, etc.) to signal that we were in opera world (i.e. heightened reality)

Using opera tropes

Using role reversal with the characters. I think that’s a big reason why the season feels so unsettling overall. Normally Morse is the one doggedly pursuing a hunch based on an obscure clue. This time it’s Thursday. Normally it is Thursday finding out that Morse didn’t check someone’s alibi. This time it’s Morse. Normally Morse and Thursday are calling the shots at the crime scene. This time DeBryn and Strange are having to put them in their place like squabbling children. Etc., etc.

Things in the show are “out of place” as well. (e.g. Thursday is at the early morning crime scene in Oracle instead of Morse. Morse is in Venice instead of Oxford.)

So the questions about Opera Rules are:

Do you keep the idea of Opera Rules for S7?

If you keep Opera Rules, how do you do a better job of signaling them?

If you keep Opera Rules, how do you make the story strong enough that people who don’t understand opera rules will know what’s happening?

Do you just out-and-out tell people about Opera Rules?

Bone of Contention #2: Ludo and Violetta?

I have yet to hear from anyone who really likes Ludo and Violetta. If someone reading this does, I’d be fascinated to hear why. To say that I find them off-putting is being kind. Why is Morse attracted to two such unpleasant people? And not only attracted, but taken in by both of them? Normally Morse is attracted to girl-next-door types (Monica, Joan). Normally Morse has no time for snobs who name-drop and talk about themselves non-stop (Oxford Don stereotype).

For me the disconnect lies not in the fact that he could be taken in. I think Astrid and Fanfic are very right about both Morse’s lack of wisdom when it comes to friendship and love, and well as his “secret” desire to have friends who perhaps share more of his interests. The leap I can’t make is that it would happen with these two specific people. Even taking into account that Morse is behaving “the opposite” of his usual way, I can’t see him being attracted to either of these two personalities.

In the end, like Astrid, I like the *idea* of the Ludo and Violetta storyline but found the way it was played out too incongruous. So what to do? It seems like you can either retool Ludo and Violetta or replace them entirely. Which you choose I think depends on how you want to remake the story and how loyal you are to canon.

My first instinct is to replace them. I find both of them so repugnant, but I do find myself returning repeatedly to an idea that I had when I first watched Oracle, which was that Violetta might actually be more directly based on the Violetta from La Traviata.

She would be a woman from the “other side of the tracks” so-to-speak, but genuinely in love with Morse. You could also use Traviata’s bit where Violetta’s “betrayal” of Alfredo is actually self-sacrifice, etc. I’m not sure about Ludo, but it would definitely need to be someone that Morse would *actually* want to befriend and not someone as obvious as Ludo.

So the questions about Ludo and Violetta are:

Do you keep Ludo and Violetta?

If you keep them, how do you retool them?

If you throw them out, what do you replace them with?

Either way (new or retooled), how do you make Morse’s attraction to them believable?

Either way (new or retooled), do you use existing opera tropes/storylines as a basis for their story?

Bone of Contention #3: Towpath Storyline

It seems that there is pretty much universal agreement on keeping the Towpath Murders as a storyline. Also, there is pretty much unanimous approval for the idea of an earlier and more prominent role for Dorothea in the case. Durian points out that this could also have the side effect of reducing some of the tension between Morse and Thursday.

Disagreement arises over two main elements:

Too many things going on in the storyline

How the conflict between Thursday and Morse is handled.

I’m in agreement on both of these things. In terms of the number of things going on in the storyline you have the whole is it or isn’t it a serial killer, the ESP angle, the flasher thing, the copycat killer, all of the animal imagery and later wolf imagery, the blood drinking, and much, much more. It could work if it all tied together coherently, but it doesn’t—at least for me. It feels like I can sort of see what they were going for, but that they definitely didn’t get there. There needs to be a unifying theme.

With the conflict between Thursday and Morse, my problem is not so much that they have the conflict, but that it comes seemingly out of nowhere. We jump from the reconciliation of Degüello to the petty arguments of Oracle with nothing in-between to explain the change. It’s not that I didn’t find the conflict between these two characters interesting or believable. It’s simply that there was nothing to explain it. Yes, you can say that Morse was becoming more of his own man, but that doesn’t seem adequate to me.

So the questions about the Towpath Storyline are:

What elements would you throw out and what would you keep?

What would make a good unifying theme for the Towpath case?

What is the source of the conflict between Morse and Thursday? What sets it off?

How do we have Ms. Frazil on the case sooner rather than later?

How does Dorothea diminish tension between Thursday and Morse.

Of the arguments between Morse and Thursday, what would you keep and what would you throw out?

Bone of Contention #3: The Episodic Storylines

I find it pretty telling that except for one brief mention, no one has strong feelings about the episodic mystery in Oracle. It definitely had less substance that the one in Raga, in part because it had to leave room for the establishment of the two big overarching stories. Personally, I found the sexism angle (the Women’s Lib Conference and Prof. Blish beating out the others for the spot on the tv show) more compelling than the ESP studies angle.

Durian mentioned that Raga, like the Towpath Murders, has way too much going on (Indian restaurant, Oberon Prince and his ex-wife, the gay wrestlers, the racist poker game, the return of the evil beautician, two stabbed teenagers, etc.) Fanfic raised the interesting idea of making the conflict in Raga more of a family conflict, using the political situation with East and West Pakistan (Bangladesh) as a focus.

So the questions about the Episodic Storylines are:

What elements would you throw out of Oracle and what would you keep?

What elements of Oracle would you change entirely?

What elements would you throw out of Raga and what would you keep?

What elements of Raga would you change entirely? (e.g. changing to internal family conflict)

OK. I'd love to hear thoughts on all of this!

#itv endeavour #endeavour morse #fred thursday #endeavour: series 7 #the s7 rewrite #endeavour: oracle #endeavour: raga #endeavour: zenana

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leporellian · 2 years ago

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youtube

this is what happens in every opera character poll

every time we have an opera characters poll i imagine it like the simpsons monkey fight bit where they are actually fighting and we are all cheering on the ones we voted for

#fitting in with my thesis that opera characters aren’t human but rather an obscure kind of italian lemurlike thing #opera tag #rambles

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ryuichirou · 3 months ago

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Halloween is coming up! Who do you think would be the type to do couples costumes and what do you think they'd dress as?

Anon! Halloween is coming up indeed. And this is a very good question, considering we get to see boys going through Halloween every year… well, kind of sort of. Of course, technically, we’ve only seen them wearing one proper Halloween costume, and even then it was pretty much one costume per dorm, but that first ever Halloween event was very helpful in showing the boys’ attitude towards costumes and Halloween in general.

Now who would wear couples costumes… for some reason this part of your ask is much easier to answer than the second part lol But I’ll do my best and share my thoughts!

Thank you for your ask.

Ace and Deuce would do accidental couple’s costumes. They would work on their costumes separately, being very excited about Halloween and all, and then somehow they’ll end up matching perfectly lol They would be so weirdly embarrassed and a little bit pissed about it. Even though they would be dressed as Batman and Joker or something (maybe something less mainstream than that but), their roommates would call them Tweedledee and Tweedledum.

Trey wouldn’t necessarily do it right now, but he probably has a vision for his future when he and his partner (Riddle…) would feed trick-or-treating kids with homemade candy (some of the candies are yucky as a little prank!) while wearing couples costumes. His would probably be unapologetically cheesy and/or punny, maybe a little cringy. I feel like Trey is the type to do a “I’m a toothbrush, he is a toothpaste” type of shit lol It’s Trey’s dream, let him have fun in his head…

Kalim spent his entire life wanting to do a costume with Jamil! And if they were to start dating (or just sleeping together, or anything of this sort), Kalim would insist so stubbornly that Jamil won’t have a choice. “I can’t wear the same Halloween outfit as the Asim’s heir” doesn’t work anymore, and Kalim could even throw a little tantrum… anyways, they’ll end up doing couples costume! It would also probably be a very cheesy idea, but overly luxurious execution. Like ghosts, but the white sheet is bedazzled with Swarovski crystals. Well, with Jamil’s help, they could come up with something cooler. Like a doctor/scientist and his project, or a serial killer and his victim, or a tomb raider and a pharaoh’s mummy, or a king and a jester… somehow, Jamil always comes up with costumes with a very distinct and troubling power dynamics lol

Rook and Vil would absolutely do it, but they would also probably drag Epel into their little play, as they always do lol Not every single time though, so sometimes Epel gets to be the tiniest Jason Voorhees in the world. Meanwhile, Vil’s and Rook’s costumes are either a reference to a type of media that is kind of obscure for mainstream audience but very iconic for them (something more obscure than Beetlejuice and Phantom of the Opera, but less obscure than John Waters movies…), or very intricately done “original character” (idk how to call it) costumes: similar to their canon Vampire ones. Don’t ever doubt that these two came up with an entire lore for their characters while they were working on costumes. It’s never just some exorcist and some imp. It’s never just some investigator and some rich widow. There is always a story, and you don’t always want to know it lol Also, I feel like saying something about Morticia and Gomez is a must, but knowing how much Vil loves to overthink things, he’ll feel like these two are too obvious of a choice.

Ortho and Idia ABSOLUTELY do couple’s costumes! They’ve been doing it for their entire lives, and these days Idia is kind of anxious that Ortho will get bored of it one day and want to do couples costumes with someone else :( But Ortho wouldn’t! It’s super important for these two, and he loves doing it! They start planning their Halloween costumes very early, and always work on them together. I think the absolute majority of their Halloween costumes are either straight-up cosplay of their favourite horror characters, or their own take on some other characters. But Idia wouldn’t be Idia if he didn’t flex his design and craft skills, so whatever they end up doing, it looks so incredibly impressive… We’ve seen what he can do with his Pumpkin Knight costume with the sound effects and all. Like, these two would recreate a scene from Uzumaki with their costumes somehow. You wouldn’t even know what you’re looking at at first.

I also think Lilia would like to do a couple’s cosplay with Idia if they were dating… Maybe he would watch Idia and Ortho work on their costumes and feel like he kind of wants to have this much fun as well! But his costume with Idia wouldn’t be as complex, and he would probably go with something cute and silly and maybe a little bit provocative. For some reason it’s very easy for me to imagine Lilia going with a choir boy costume and making Idia dress like a priest lol Or a doctor with a nurse, or something like that.

Ironically, if he was to wear couple’s costume with Silver or Malleus, I think he would pick something else for himself. Something cute, but something less provocative~

#replies #headcanons

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devildomditzy · 1 year ago

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Dates I think these mf’s would take you on

Lucifer

I ain’t gonna lie probably the opera 😭

Or like some kind of symphonic orchestra

Even if you’re bored as hell he’s sitting there with a small smile on his face looking pleased with himself

He’d probably take you to a really fancy dinner before or after

The kind that’s so fancy it makes you uncomfortable you feel me

If you’re walking beside him, you’re going to be hanging off his arm

you have no choice in the matter

But at least he’s the perfect gentleman!

(I am a little scared of him)

Mammon

Love of your life he will literally try to snoop into your stuff/eavesdrop your conversations to figure out what you like and try to plan a date around that

But he also likes to be really spontaneous with it, so his two styles clash, he doesn’t really ‘do’ planning

Honest to god he will bring you along with him to one of his schemes and call it a date 😭

But he also really likes just taking you for long drives, he gets to have you alone, all to himself, and you can go anywhere and do anything

Makes him feel so, so happy when he sees you all excited

When he feels important to you, that’s when he gets all cocky

I want him so bad

Levi

Listen…

Y’AINT leavin the house

He wants to lock you in his room to marathon your favorite shows or finish the latest video game in one sitting

He’d bring you into one of his immersive video games as a date, cause he can make any scenario you’d like happen, and he doesn’t even have to leave the house!

If he ever does take you somewhere outside…

Sorry, it’s to an idol meet and greet

Or a movie premiere of some obscure title you’ve likely never heard of

MAID CAFE YOU HAVE NO CHOICE

At least he’s cute 😭

Satan

I ain’t gonna lie probably the opera 😭

Okay jk definitely a bookstore or coffee shop he’s one of THOSE nerds (but we been knew)

He just wants to read peacefully and quietly, book in one hand and yours in the other

CAT CAFE YOU HAVE NO CHOICE

But it’s so so so cute to watch him light up

This man’s reaction to orange cat activities? priceless 😭

Asmo

It’s to some fashion show or makeup product launch party

He’s your arm candy and you’re his

He wants to take you somewhere where he can doll up the both of you so you can show each other off

Probably would take you to a spa, even if you’re not dating you’re the number one person he’s dragging to the spa

Wherever you go, getting into a photo booth is a MUST

Beel

Another boy who just wants to take you somewhere you’d like 🥺

He’d want to take you to one of those couples cooking classes but lbr you’d have to put a muzzle on him 😭

He likes to take you to do outdoorsy stuff, even if you’re not an outdoorsy person, he thinks it’s important that you get out sometimes

Likes to go on walks, simple strolls where he can hold your hand and talk

If you get tired he will piggyback carry you

You don’t even have to ask, he’s hyper aware of when you’re getting tired because he’s so used to Belphie

Sweetie 🥺

Belphie

Not to be an basic bitch with him but - stargazing, you know it’s stargazing

He loves observatories, he loves just laying down on the grass and staring up, and he loves doing it with you

He doesn’t get tired of explaining the same constellations over and over

He especially enjoys pointing out him and beel’s your star

He also loves nap dates!

Get cozy 😚

Oh, you wanna get up? He wishes a bitch would try

You are glued to the mattress until he says so

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marypsue · 5 months ago

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Reblog game: 10 movies you gotta watch if you want to be a freak like me.

I was tagged by @gretchensinister!

This list is not about your favorite movies (though some could be). This list is not about movies that have had the most artistic influence on you (though some could be). This list is about those movies that helped give you your specific kind of freakiness, whether you watched them once or a hundred times, 20 years ago or 1 year ago. Good? Bad? Popular? Obscure? Could be any of these things. Freakiness can form in a person from any source. Definition of freakiness intentionally left vague.

It was tough to settle on a list, because it was tough to settle on a working definition of 'freakiness' for the purposes of this post, but I think I got there in the end! The ten I picked ended up being:

Treasure Planet

The Lost Boys

Labyrinth

Halloween 4: The Return of Michael Myers

Ravenous

But I'm A Cheerleader!

Repo! The Genetic Opera

Renfield

Crimson Peak

Prom Night II: Hello Mary Lou

And I shall tag...@thelibrarybat, @forthegothicheroine, @titleleaf, @maddie-grove, @amethystunarmed, and also

@bixxelated and @aethersea. As well as anyone whose name isn't here but who'd like to give it a shot!

#I'm giving honourable mention here to 2003's peter pan; rotg; and sinbad: legend of the seven seas (for eris reasons)#also to teenagers from outer space #and to earth girls are easy which really duked it out with prom night II and heathers which was the alternate for but i'm a cheerleader #chatter #note that I am not saying that all of these movies are #what's the word #good

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evil-robot-cat · 8 months ago

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Is the inspire!reeve thing actually canon? Is it something that was scrapped but hung on to? Was it just said at one point but never brought up again?

Are. Are you proposing to me? 😳

This one drove me nuts for ages because it's one of those things that- okay first off, yes, it's 100% canon.

Inspire was part of Reeve's scrapped story, which was much more dramatic and big. I don't dwell too often in the What Almost Was information, other than to occasionally dust some of it off and go, "Hey, this would be neat in a fanfic." So I don't have it thoroughly memorized. But if I remember correctly, he was supposed to have a psychic connection to the reactors, and be able to control them to try to save the day. All of that was taken out... except they didn't get rid of the ability, just the reactor thing.

Inspire is never mentioned anywhere in the game. It's only named in outside sources like the Ultimanias, interviews, and the trading card game. Some of the information in older sources is outdated and retconned, so Inspire was in this weird limbo for a while, with some people saying it was, and some people saying it wasn't.

In-game, Reeve has a very good reason not to tell anyone about Inspire - it's the kind of ability that would land him in another department of Shinra, and not as the director. (Poor Chadley, we didn't have a clue what you really were...)

Though the generic term "inanimate objects" is written in its description, we only know that Reeve uses it to control Cait Sith. He can and does control multiple Cait Siths at a time, but he says it's difficult.

Cait Sith has a certain amount of his own autonomy. How much is Reeve, how much is Cait Sith, and how much is they're-both-the-same-person-in-multiple-bodies is playfully obscured. Cait Sith says that he's a living being, an unliving robot, and that he's not sure what he is. Reeve refers to Cait Sith as both his friend and other self. The Gi call him "hollow" and openly don't trust him. In Opera Omnia, both Cait Sith and other members of the FF7 cast say vague things when asked about him. They're either not sure, or they don't feel comfortable sharing.

OG Cait Sith implied each one had a different mind, but they seem to have gotten rid of that in Rebirth, and have just one soul(?) bouncing from doll to doll. (OG Cait Sith #2 introduces itself to them as a new person, and has no idea what's going on when Aerith dies. Rebirth Cait Sith refers to what he just went through, then does a dogeza for his betrayal.)

Will they explain it further in the next game? I strongly, strongly doubt it, because half the fun of Inspire is its ambiguity.

But to sum it all up, once again, yes, Inspire is canon.

#Reeve Tuesti #FF7 Cait Sith #Cait Sith #stuff in FF7 #FF7

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elliemarchetti · 7 months ago

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The Queen of the Quills - Jily Edition (Part 5)

Posting on Tumblr too because this fic's sister is already there.

Reading The Queen of the Quills - Blackinnon Edition will not be mandatory to understand the developments of James and Lily's story, but some details could be shared, therefore, for anyone wishing to fully enjoy the experience, I will leave this series' masterlist here.

This was @athenasparrow's gift for @jilymicrofics ' Exchange 2024, but if you like it and are willingly to reblog, it would be super appreciated since stories like this require quite some time and effort🥰

Taglist (if anyone wants to be added, please DM me or comment and I'll gladly add you!): @thaisthedreamer

Plot: James Potter, London's most evasive bachelor, an impertinent libertine, has decided to get married. He has also already chosen his wife, the debutante Lily Evans, a self-confident young woman who has not the slightest intention of being seduced by such a man. A Bridgerton inspired Regency AU.

Words: 4093

Mrs. Potter’s musicale proved to be a decidedly musical affair (not, this author assures you, always the norm for musicales). The guest performer was none other than Maria Rosso, an Italian soprano from the all-witch choir known as Spellbound who made their debut in London two years ago and has returned after a brief stint on the Vienna stage. With thick, sable hair and flashing dark eyes, Miss Rosso proved as lovely in form as she did in voice, and more than one, or it would be better to say more than a dozen, of society’s so-called gentleman found it difficult indeed to remove their eyes from her person, even after the performance had concluded.

The Queen of the Quills, May 17, 1813

Lily felt the exact moment he walked in the room. She tried to tell herself it had nothing to do with a heightened awareness of the excruciatingly handsome wizard, she couldn’t imagine that every woman didn’t notice him immediately, and furthermore, he arrived late – not very, but still enough he had to try to be quiet as he slipped into a chair at the front next to Mrs. Evans – still she noticed him before her own mother and sister did, and it rendered her unable to even breathe. He didn’t look her way, but several candles had been snuffed, leaving the room bathed in a dim, romantic glow, so the shadows must’ve obscured her face and the way she tried to keep her eyes on Miss Rosso throughout the performance, even if the woman couldn’t take hers off of Mr. Potter, and for some reasons, it didn’t improve her disposition. She should’ve rejoiced in the fact, it was just another piece of proof he was every bit the licentious rake she’d always known him to be, but she wasn’t feeling smug, or vindicated, she was just heavily, uncomfortably disappointed, so much so she felt herself slump slightly in her chair.

When the performance was done, she couldn’t help but notice how the soprano, after graciously accepting her applause, brazenly approached her suitor and offered him one of those seductive smiles, the sort Lily would never learn to do even if she had a thousand opera singers trying to teach her. There was no mistaking what she meant with that act, and he must’ve realized too, because he threw her a mysterious look and actually tucked an errant lock of her raven hair behind her ear.

Lily shivered in disgust. For Merlin’s beard, the man didn’t even need to chase women, they practically dropped at his feet and whispered sweet nothing in his ears! Maybe she praised him, or maybe she outwardly offered herself, because he leaned down enough to kiss her neck.

“Lily?” hissed her mother, decidedly irritated. “Stop watching Mr. Potter.”

“I wasn’t… well, all right, I was, but did you see him?” she whispered urgently. “He’s shameless.”

She looked back over at him, still flirting with Maria Rosso, no care in the world about who might see.

“I’m sure his behaviour isn’t any of our business,” replied Elizabeth, lips pursed into a tight line. “He has been kind in delivering the invitations to the musicale himself, but I’m certain he wants nothing to do with you after that fiasco in Hyde Park.”

If the situation had been different, Lily would have argued that it wasn't her fault that his dog had pushed her into the water and he jumped in to save her when she was already swimming toward the shore, but she didn't have the energy to argue right now, so she sagged her shoulders and followed her family as they greeted their lovely hostess. Mrs. Potter had fair hair and light eyes, and she was rather petite to have mothered such a large son, so Lily decided her late husband must’ve been a tall man.

“Mrs. Evans,” she said warmly, “what a delight to see you again. I so enjoyed our meeting at the last ball and I must say I’m very glad you decided to accept my invitation.”

“We wouldn’t dream of spending the evening elsewhere,” her mother rejoined. “And may I present you my daughters? The older one is Petunia, and the younger one is Lily.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both, and I would like to introduce you to Mr and Mrs. McKinnon’s daughter, Marlene,” she said, motioning to a young lady at her side. For some reason, Lily was convinced she had already met her, but maybe she was just a classmate she had passed a couple of times in the corridors at Hogwarts. After all, Londoners were used to minding their own business there too, and she had no doubt that someone so beautiful and seemingly delicate was constantly surrounded by flocks of other adoring young women. Anyway, Lily smiled warmly at the girl, who looked to be about the same age as her, even though the similarities between them ended here: her blonde hair were a perfectly styled field of lovely golden wheat and her face was angular, a rather sharp contrast with Lily’s roundness.

“Is this your first season?” she asked, already friendly.

Both Lily and Petunia nodded.

“How lucky!” she exclaimed. “I attended a few parties last year and may I say they were a bit… boring? Everything was so new the first time, but by the end of spring I already remembered everyone’s name. This way, I thought I could get an excellent match, but as you may see by yourself, I’m still unmarried.”

As Marlene spoke, Mrs. Evans glanced at her son, who kept flirting madly with the Italian opera singer, and frowned.

Lily felt something very uneasy in her stomach: according to recent issues of The Queen of the Quills, Mrs. Evans was on a mission to get her son married off, and while he didn’t seem the sort of man to bend to his mother’s will, or anyone’s, for the matter, she had a feeling the woman would be able to exert quite a bit of pressure is she so chose. Maybe that was why he was so intent on courting her.

After a few more moments of polite chatter, the Evans left Mrs. Potter to greet the rest of her guests and were soon accosted by Mrs. Bones, who, as the mother of three daughters, two still unmarried, always had a lot to say to Elizabeth – she had long declared herself on a first-name basis with the Evans – although that day her gaze was firmly focused on Lily, who immediately began to assess possible escape routes.

“What a surprise to see you there!” boomed the stout woman, leaving her interlocutor puzzled. “Gossip said you were ill.”

“Don’t worry, it was nothing that serious,” Lily retorted, with a weak smile. How Amelia had managed to become a pleasant person to have around with a family like hers Lily just couldn't explain.

“From what I heard, you contracted it in a rather serious way,” Mrs. Bones added, brows rising a good half inch. It was evident she knew, maybe she was even at the scene, but there was really no need to talk about it at the Potter’s.

“A way of little consequence, as you can see,” Lily countered firmly, although she was finding it difficult not to growl at the meddlesome woman.

Mrs. Bones opened her mouth, a sharp intake of breath telling she was preparing to launch into a lengthy monologue on the topic of the importance of good deportment, or good manners, or good breeding, but her youngest promptly interrupted her, offering to fetch lemonade for everyone.

“Lily, would you be so kind as to help me?” she asked, turning to the one she set out to save. “Unfortunately, I still don’t have enough hands to carry all those glasses.”

Lily tried not to appear too eager to accept, but everyone must’ve noticed their urgency to flee from how quickly they walked away, dodging those present with skill.

“Thank you,” she murmured to her saviour once they reached the lemonade stand and grabbed four glasses, for everyone except Petunia, who said she wasn’t thirsty.

“I know how my mother can be, I’m usually her favourite victim, so since I could avoid you what would’ve sounded like a lecture from an almost stranger, I took advantage of it. I’m sure somehow she would’ve found the opportunity to insert me into the conversation just to define me an impertinent social failure,” replied the other, and although a part of Lily wanted to pity her for that cruel fate – no mother should behave like that with her daughter – another part told her not to do so, because the girl needed an ally, not yet another young lady looking at her like a hopeless cause.

“Can we go back for a glass for ourselves?” asked Amelia as soon as they reunited with their families, and her mother nodded in a matter that told Lily everyone must know her youngest wasn’t her favourite.

“Why don’t we go out for a bit of fresh air? Since we’re together, we don’t need a chaperone,” suggested the redhead, who wanted a little more space to investigate on what the wizarding society really thought of Mr. Potter. Was he a hypocrite? A scoundrel? Or even a liar? Had he by chance deluded women and then abandoned them without any prospect? Did he have bastards? She didn't know why she cared so much, after all he probably believed her a menace to society, or he wouldn’t have acted as he was doing with Miss Rosso, still she needed to know if it was the norm or just a game to get back at her. So she asked, rather forward, as she and her friend sank into a cushioned bench about ten yards from the music room. They remained there for several minutes, more than pleased with the comfortable intimacy of their gossip, until they heard one particular voice rise slightly above the low rumble of the crowd, followed by decidedly musical laughter. After a shared look of realization, they hitched up their skirts by a few inches to save themselves from tripping and ducked into the doorway next to the bench, hoping Mr. Potter and his paramour would walk on by, and they could scoot back into the music room and laugh about their little adventure. As their eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room, they realized they were in some sort of office, with walls lined with books, although not enough to be a library, the place dominated by a massive oak desk with papers laid on top of it in neat piles. Clearly the place was lived, not just for show, and as curiosity got the better of them, they wandered toward the desk, Lily running her fingers along the wooden rim. The air still smelled faintly of ink, and maybe the slightest hint of pipe smoke. All in all, she decided, it was a lovely room, comfortable and practical, a place a person could spend hours in lost in lazy contemplation, but just as she was about to lean back against the desk, savouring the quiet solitude exuding from the place, she heard and awful sound. The doorknob clicked, and with a frantic gasp, Amelia disappeared, leaving her with no other option than dive under the desk, squeezing herself into the empty cube of space and thanking the heavens that it was completely solid rather than the short that rested on four spindly legs. Barely breathing, she listened, cursing herself for not taking Apparition class seriously.

“I had heard this would be the year we would finally see the notorious Mr. Potter fall into the parson’s mousetrap,” came a lilting feminine voice. Lily bit her lip, recognizing the Italian accent.

“And where did you hear that?” came James’ unmistakable voice, followed by another awful click of the doorknob that made Lily shut her eyes in agony. She was trapped in the office with a pair of lovers. Life simply couldn’t get any worse than this, unless she was discovered, though it didn’t make her feel much better about her present predicament.

“It’s all over town,” Maria replied. “Everyone is saying you have decided to settle down and choose a bride.”

There was a silence, but Lily could swear she could hear him shrug: “It’s probably past time.”

“You are breaking my heart, did you know?” she asked, making Lily nearly gag.

“Now, my sweet signorina, we both know that your heart is impervious to any of my machinations,” Mr. Potter murmured, and Lily pictured him as close as they were before, his lips nearly on her skin, because next came a rustling sound, which she took to be Maria pulling coyly away to state she wasn’t inclined for a dalliance.

“I don’t look for marriage, of course, that would be most foolish, but when I next choose a protector, it shall be for, shall we say, the long term,” she added, low and husky.

“I fail to see the problem.”

“Your future wife may not.”

“The only reason to give up one’s mistress is if one happens to love one’s wife,” Mr. Potter chuckled. “And as I don’t intend to choose a wife with whom I might fall in love, I see no reason to deny myself the pleasure of a lovely woman like you.”

Lily tried to imagine the reaction of the couple if she jumped out of her hiding place, screaming like a madwoman, asking what made him think she was the right match if that was his plan from the start. It nearly made her laugh, and at the same time she wanted to cry, because there was no way she could make the entrance she wished to make when she was squatting like a frog with her hands wrapped around her ankles. A few unintelligible sounds distracted her from her fantasies, and she dearly prayed they weren’t a prelude to something considerably more intimate. After a moment, though, Mr. Potter’s voice emerged clearly, asking to the singer if she cared for something to drink. Maria murmured her assent, and James’ forceful stride echoed along the floor, growing closer and closer, until he came into view, his athletic frame displayed to surprising benefit from her vantage point on the floor. If he just kept his face to the window as he poured, she might escape detection, but if he turned so much as halfway she would be as good as dead, for she had no doubt he would kill her. Frankly, she was surprised he hadn’t tried last week at the Serpentine.

“Is everything all right?” Maria called out, when Mr. Potter clinked the tumblers slightly together as he set them down before pouring two fingers of amber liquid into each glass.

“Perfect,” he answered, although he sounded vaguely distracted, like a dog sniffing the air around in search of his prey. Maybe that was why Lily froze and stopped breathing completely, eyes wide and unblinking, as he started to hum slightly to himself and his body slowly began to turn.

Keep walking, she screamed in her head, keep walking to your lover and don’t look back.

But it didn't go that way, and she watched with complete and utter horror as his eyes scanned her starting from her shoes and pinned her where she was.

__________________

James knew quite well why he’d brought Maria Rosso back to his study. Surely no warm-blooded man could be immune to the charm of her lush body and her intoxicating voice, and he knew from experience that her touch was equally potent, but even as he took in that silky sable hair and those full, pouting lips, even as his muscles tightened at the memory of other full, pouting parts of her body, he knew he was using her. He felt no guilt in that regard – she was using him as well, and she would at least be compensated for it, whereas he would be out several jewels, a quarterly allowance, and the rent on a fashionable townhouse in a fashionable part of town – no, if he felt uneasy and frustrated, if he felt like he wanted to put his damned fist though a brick wall, it was because he was using Maria to banish the nightmare that Lily Evans was from his mind. He never wanted to wake up hard and tortured again, knowing she was the cause, he just wanted to drown himself in another woman until the very memory of his recurring dream dissolved and faded into nothingness, because Merlin knew he was never going to act on that particular erotic fantasy because he shouldn’t like her like that. The though of making love to her, and not just bedding her, made him break out in a cold sweat, even as it swirled a ripple of desire right through his gut. Bloody hell, the woman must’ve bewitched him, there could be no other explanation for the dream, and besides, even now he could swear he could smell her. It was that maddening combination of lilies and soap, that beguiling scent that had washed over him while they were in Hyde Park.

“Is everything all right?” Maria called out.

“Perfect,” James said, voice sounding tight to his own ears. He began to hum, something he’d always done to relax, and he turned, even started to take a step forward, because after all Miss Rosso was waiting for him, but the damned scent followed him and his foot hesitated in midair, his step forward proved to be a small one instead of his usual long stride, and he kept turning, his nose instinctively twisting his eyes toward where he knew there couldn’t be lilies until he saw her under his desk, crouching like a frog. It was a wonder he didn’t drop the whiskey as their eyes met, and he saw hers widen with panic and fright.

Good, he thought savagely. What the hell was she doing here? Wasn’t making a scene after he doused himself in the filthy water of the Serpentine to rescue her enough for her bloodthirsty spirit? Did she need to spy on him as well?

“Maria,” he said smoothly, moving forward toward the desk until he was nearly stepping on Lily’s hand. “I have suddenly remembered an urgent matter of business that must be dealt with immediately.”

“This very night?” she asked, quite dubious.

“I’m afraid so. Allow me to walk you to the door,” he said, and although the singer’s eyes were curious, she still took his arm and forgave him for his rudeness for not taking her back to the music room.

“I am a grown woman, I believe I can manage the short distance,” she laughed, a low, sultry sound that should’ve seduced him. “And furthermore, I suspect there isn’t a woman alive who could deny you forgiveness with that smile.”

“You are of a rare kind, Maria Rosso,” he replied, hoping she couldn’t feel how far his head was from this conversation. Not too much physically, since Lily was just a few steps away, but metaphorically…

“But not, apparently, rare enough,” she murmured before floating out, finally giving James the possibility to shut the door with a decisive click, turn the key and pocked it. At the sound, Lily crawled out of her hiding place, leaning on the edge of the desk for support, apparently unable to start the much-needed explanation she had to give about her presence.

“Well?” he asked, breaking the bubble of silence.

“It was an accident!” she exclaimed. “I was sitting in the hall and I heard you coming. I was just trying to avoid you and your lover, to spare the embarrassment to everyone...”

“So you decided to invade my private office?” he asked, suspicious.

“I didn’t know it was your office. I…” she started, but was unable to finish her sentence, probably intimidated by his deliberate proximity. He could swear he was hearing the frantic beating of her heart coming from beneath the bodice.

“I think perhaps you did know this was my office,” he murmured, letting his forefinger trail down the side of her cheek. “Perhaps you didn’t seek to avoid me at all, on the contrary, you desired something else, something more… insane?”

Lily swallowed convulsively, long past the point of trying to maintain her composure.

“What do you say to that?” he asked, his finger sliding along her jawline.

Her lips parted, but she couldn’t have uttered a word if her life had depended on it. He wore no gloves, he removed them during his interrupted tryst with Maria, and the touch of his skin against her was so powerful it seemed to control her body, for she breathed when he paused, stopped when he moved. He had no doubt their hearts were beating in time as his breath kissed her lips, and he smiled, victorious, when she deleted the little distance still separating them. It was evident she was an innocent who wouldn’t know what it was like to have a man so near the heat of his body seeped through her clothes, who wouldn’t recognize the first prickles of desire, nor would she understand that slow, swirling heat in the core of her being, but it was there, he could see it in her face with only one look of his experienced eyes.

James told himself that if she hadn’t kissed him, he would’ve stopped right there, left her bothered and breathless, but he knew he was lying, he knew the moment there had been barely an inch between their faces back in her house and he resisted the pull to give in to her beguiling scent only because the footman might’ve saw them. But right now, there was no chaperone, they were in the privacy of his study, her mother was probably immersed in conversation and the prickles of desire he’d meant to spark within her suddenly ignited him, sending a warm claw of need to the very tips of his toes. Although her kiss had been chaste, and rather desperate, the fingers he’d been trailing along her cheek to torture her suddenly became a hand that cupped the back of her head, and his lips took hers in an explosion of desire, making her gasp against his mouth, something he took advantage of to slide his tongue between them. She was pliant in his arms, so James pressed his suit further by allowing one of his hands to slide down her back and cup the gentle curve of her derriere.

It was madness, he knew he should stop and he damned well shouldn’t have started, but his body was racing with need and he felt so good he had no intention of letting her go. It was like when he was younger, with no care in the world, and his father was still alive, ready to rule the family and gift him with the chance to mess up without consequences a little more, and at the same time he found she possessed something that suited him like no woman ever had before. Something about her was just right, maybe her smell, or maybe the way she felt in his arms, and he knew that if he stripped off all of her clothes and took her there on the carpet on the floor of his study, she would fit underneath him, around him, just right. A low, triumphant growl emerged from James’ mouth as he moved it to her slender neck and further down, in the expanse of skin usually hidden by the bodice he moved slightly, enough to not expose her right away but still more than decency allowed. With ragged and fast breath, he pinned her to his desk, crazed, frantic, leaving small red marks wherever he sucked, regardless of the consequences.

“Do you still hate me?” he asked, and when she slightly shook her head, he cupped one of her breasts, covering it entirely with his hand. Just as he was plotting the best course back to her lips, he heard the perfectly awful sound of Sirius’ voice outside the door.

“James!” he shouted. “I know you’re here and your mother does too. She needs your assistance and asked me to tell you to stop fucking Miss Rosso.”

Miss Evans, blissfully unaware of how close she’d come to having been pleasured utterly senseless, threw a horrified look to the door.

“One of these days,” James muttered, “I’m going to have to kill him.”

#jily #lily evans #james potter #marlene mckinnon #amelia bones #petunia evans #sirius black #regency au #bridgerton au #the queen of the quills

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natasha-in-space · 1 year ago

Text

Show & Tell

Zen/gn!reader/Unknown;

You are meant to play the part bestowed upon you. That is all the purpose you will ever need. At least, that's what you are supposed to think. But, even the best of actors can forget their lines. Except, the one overlooking your play is not very forgiving.

Based on Zen's 3rd Bad Story ending.

Content warnings for: non-consensual drug-use, and overall Unknown being a very creepy bastard.

"A long time ago, in a land far away, there lived a beautiful silver-haired knight, and a kind-hearted prince/ss. Everything was well in their kingdom, until the prince/ss realized that their court was nothing but a bunch of traitors to the crown... filled with dirty liars and hypocrites. The prince/ss thought their loyal knight would come and save them, that they would run away together. But... alas, that did not happen."

A hushed, breathy voice travels throughout the spacious room, echoing against the thick walls of your own personal playhouse, almost like a phantom haunting its opera house. Only the heavy sounds of large boots against the wooden stage serve as a reminder, that there was a very real narrator present in this room, telling his rousing tale to a gracious audience of none. Your vision is spinning, your body too weak to even hold your head up properly. You would have probably collapsed if not for the comfortably cushioned throne reserved just for you to sit upon.

Oh, how gracious your host was, providing you with everything you could possibly need for you to stay as relaxed and comfortable as you can be. All you need to do in return is to sit there like a disciplined prince/ss you are, and listen. Your thoughts are far too jumbled to make sense of it all, anyway.

Unknown will do so for you.

"-The prince/ss had no idea that their beloved knight was in the same team with all the horrible liars. God... our poor, poor prince/ss..." The voice purrs, suddenly just a few inches away from you, and you feel a cold slender finger caress your cheek lovingly. You lean into the cool touch, a welcome change for the ever-growing fever burning you up from the inside out. Your eagerness is not unnoticed by Unknown, who chuckles in what seems to be amusement, and walks away, much to your visible dismay. He never gives you what you want, however small it is. You wonder if he finds some sick sense of enjoyment in teasing you with a carrot on a string like that. He continues his story, not addressing your little whine of displeasure in any way. Which is probably for the better. He didn't like whiny brats, after all.

"It's a good thing that... the prince/ss had a guardian angel looking over them. Waiting for a chance to take them under his caring wing, and guide them to paradise."

A moment of deafening silence passes, almost as if Unknown had to think over his narrative for a good while before continuing. You never could understand what was going through that head of his. His expression is stoic, unreadable. Almost like he's not even fully there, just staring ahead without seeing a thing. Stuck in his own perverted fantasy, rather than facing the reality in front of him. It's almost unnerving to look at. Then, a harsh clap makes you twitch in your seat, a numb ache drilling into your temples from the loudness of it bashing against your already overstimulated senses. The man didn't seem to care for your discomfort, though, simply patting you on the head as if you were nothing but a plush toy.

"...How about it, party coordinator!? Hm? A beautiful story, no?"

You open your mouth to say something - anything - but, all that comes out is a single raspy breath, your thoughts tangling together into one blurred lump of obscure concepts, before you could latch onto even a single word for you to utter aloud. Unknown appears to be unaffected by your lack of a proper response, though. It's like he doesn't even see you as a human. Just an inanimate object to play around with.

His pretty doll to put on this twisted play with.

His footsteps grow farther away from you as he pulls away from you once again. Then, a gentle sound of a curtain being pulled back, the fabric tossed unceremoniously onto the stage and sliding off of it to crumple up somewhere beneath it. A beautiful decorations turned into a useless floor mop in a single move. A grim reminder that nothing in this room was truly valuable in its master's eyes. Including you.

You decide to look up towards the sound, your vision bleary as you stare ahead, trying to force your brain into actually processing what you see, instead of just letting it stay an unfocused blob of shapes and colors. Your cloudy gaze meets a similar one of a breathtaking ruby color. Like two spectacular jewels shining in brilliant stage lights, brighter than any of them, yet so dull and lifeless at the same time. Something pulls at your insides once you make eye contact with a beautiful silver-haired stranger sitting opposite from you. It's urging you to fight against the heavy fog filling your head like some higher power you have no control over. A name sits just on the tip of your tongue, yet so far away. It perches itself right in the middle of your throat like a lump of acidic bile, scratching painfully at your esophagus, suffocating you from the inside out. Demanding to be set free, yet warning you against it.

You... knew this person. From somewhere. You wonder... if maybe... just maybe-

"And, here's our noble knight!" You quickly redirect your attention back to Unknown, internally berating yourself for getting distracted from what's truly important here. His leather jacket is exposing his boney shoulder to you, a large intricate image of an eye boring straight into your soul. The symbol is a familiar one. But, in a different way. It leaves your skin prickling with a disgusting sensation of cold sweat dripping down your back. You suddenly start to feel nauseous for some reason.

...You look away from it.

Instead, your raise gaze eyes at Unknown's face. His mint eyes sparkle in blinding lights of the makeshift stage he has put up just for you. It's the complete opposite of the dull and unfocused look present in the Knight's stare. There is an almost childlike glee swimming in his irises while he looks between you and the Knight, as if he is pursuing your personal approval in this intricate game of make-believe. Yet, it does not feel innocent nor really happy in nature. His grin is a sadistic one. Callous. Heartless. Lacking of any true warmth and affection for you, no matter what friendly front he tries to put on in front you. It makes you gulp, a silent warning of danger lurking in those cold eyes that does not escape you, even through the thick fog filling your head. He has you trained well, after all.

So, despite your ever growing discomfort gripping at your guts, you make sure to play your role diligently. You smile, providing him with appreciation he wordlessly demands from his prince/ss. His wicked grin widens once he sees your positive reception, his chest puffing out in what looks like pride, as he now stands behind the Knight, placing his hands onto his shoulders. His posture is relaxed, yet you can see his long fingers digging into the Knight's shoulders with way more force than necessary. Through it all, his gaze never leaves you, not even for a second. It feels suffocating. Like he's searching for any sign of imperfection in your behavior, however small, eager to teach his favorite pet a new lesson.

You remain still.

"-Eventually, the Knight did come running for our prince/ss, but... he was too late."

A small, pained groan falls from the Knight's lips, his appearance rather disheveled despite the gorgeous attire he was dressed in to make him look dignified. There are dark rings imbedded into his skin under his eyes, even more noticeable due to the sick paleness of his otherwise flawless complexion. Blemishes and cuts peek out from just underneath the frilly costume. But, you know Unknown prefers his pretty Fairytale to the ugly Truth. So, you pay no mind to imperfections bleeding into your play.

Yet, something tugs at your heartstrings once again the moment the Knight looks on at you, his brows furrowing just a tiny bit as he takes you in. It was unclear if he was feeling confused or distressed. A sudden desire to reach out and cup his cheek unexpectedly fills your senses. A want bring him comfort. A wish to pull him close. A longing to utter the same name that has been gnawing at your throat like a vicious parasite for a good while now. If it wasn't for the fatigue weighing your limbs down in invisible heavy chains of pure steel, you would have probably tried to move towards him without a second thought.

As you grapple with your frazzled mind abruptly acting up against you, the Knight's silver hair was now being combed through and played with by Unknown. With a smirk playing on his chapped lips, he leans in to murmur into the Knight's ear: "Fortunately, there is a happy ending to this fairytale of yours, noble Knight. But, it is up to me to write it."

His words were hopeful, but they still sent a cold chill down your spine for some reason. A sentiment reciprocated by the Knight, judging by the way his hands clenched tightly where they rested on his throne's arm rest.

"N-No..."

His voice is quiet and raspy. Yours is very similar. It makes your breath hitch in the middle of your throat painfully, your body impulsively leaning towards the two men in front of you. An action not going unnoticed by Unknown, who raises a brow at you pointedly.

You take the hint.

...So, you return back to your place without a word.

"...No...? Oh, but that's not in the script, noble Knight! I thought you were a talented actor, are you not?" Unknown mocks, seemingly more amused than angry at the Knight's disobedience. He tightens his grip on the other man's chin and lifts his head up to make him look him directly in the eye. The Knight groans, probably because of the unpleasant feeling of vertigo caused by such harsh movements. You know Unknown doesn't care for his discomfort. Much like he doesn't care for yours. You are just glad that it's not you who's on the receiving end of his attention right now. He continues, his tone suddenly shifting from mocking to shockingly tender. The change is so quick, it almost gives you a whiplash. "Poor, poor Knight... Is your head hurting? Here, take the magic potion to make all your pain disappear... This one was specially manufactured by me. Just for you."

Unknown pulls out a familiar mint liquid shimmering inside a small flask, and you immediately look away from the scene, your entire face scrunching up at the mere sight of it, almost involuntarily. Just seeing that specific shade of mint brings back the bitter taste of pungent chemicals burning at your lips that you are painfully familiar with. You just stare ahead blankly, listening to the gruesome sounds of coughing, gagging and choking that soon follow. It's a grisly change from the soft-spoken narration that was filling the room just moments prior. What you focus on, though, is the quiet murmurs of encouragements Unknown was cooing to the Knight as the acrid liquid pours down his throat forcefully, burning anything it touches, without any mercy.

You couldn't understand Unknown. One moment he could be cruel, and the next he could be loving. Cold and indifferent, and then almost giddy with some twisted sense of excitement. With him in the room, you always feel like you are walking the thinnest of tightropes, just on the edge of plummeting down into the abyss filled with dozens of wolves hungry for your blood, and all it would take is just a single wrong move from you. Today, though, he seems to be in a rather good mood.

You don't know how happy you should be about that, though.

After the flask falls to the floor with a loud clatter, you look up and witness an eerie sight unfolding before you. Unknown's hands are now gripping the Knight's chin and wrist in a rather painful-looking grasp, forcing him into what he probably perceives as an honorable pose: with the Knight's head held high and one of his arms stretching out towards you. It looks rather disturbing, though, as you take note of the Knight's labored breaths and an ugly stain of mint against his pretty clothes. You can see him actively struggling not to throw up, his lips trembling, and his face even paler than it was before, twisted in an expression of agony that left your chest burning for a completely different reason than that same hazy fever weighing you down.

You were intimately familiar with that horrid experience. You stayed still for that exact reason. Not wanting to be on the receiving end of the Unknown's 'help' next. Maybe a bit cowardly of you, but you did not care.

"-C'mon! Act happy! You said your dream is to act until you die. That's what you said at your last punishment, is it not?"

Unknown is merciless towards the poor man, shaking him like a ragdoll and only making his already rather dizzy state even worse. Then, he looks up at you and jerks his head at you, indicating that he wants you to come over. You freeze, suddenly more uncomfortable than you've ever felt before. But, you know better than to resist. So, you listen. Pushing through the fatigue and pain screaming at you to stay still, you stand up from your throne slowly, and clumsily make your way over to the two men opposite from you, struggling not to trip over your own two feet, with how shaky they felt under you.

Unknown grins, looking at you with a glint of pride in his eyes. It almost makes up for the nausea and weakness you have to endure constantly. Almost. You do end up stumbling as you finally walk up to them, but Unknown graciously moves over to hold you up, his hands gripping your waist in a rather gentle hold for someone so brutal in his ways. It makes you want to lean against him, to let him support you when you can't stand. But... you know he won't do that. And, just as quickly as his hands grab you, they are suddenly gone.

And you realize that you are now seated on the Knight's lap.

The beautiful silver-haired man, now in such close proximity to you, was so close that you could make out each individual lash fluttering around his dangerously attractive eyes of scarlet hue. Though, now that you were able to stare at them that much closer, you could see tiny dots if mint mudding that pretty shade of red. You didn't like that. He seems to share your bewildered and enthralled state of mind, gazing down at you with a shocked expression that probably echoed your own.

The spell breaks once you hear Unknown's voice echoing against the walls around you, now circling you two like a hungry cat playing with its food. Even though you don't look back at him, you can still hear a smirk present in his voice as he begins to utter his next words to you in a gentle hiss flowing through the air. You wonder if that's how the jealous Serpent's words of corruption sounded to Eve, as it whispered its sweet deception into her ears with a false promise of greater knowledge. It makes you clutch onto the Knight's shirt tighter than would be considered appropriate, making his breath hitch at your touch.

"Now, this time, make sure to court your beloved prince/ss with true love they deserve. You owe them this much for all the ugly lies you poisoned them with." Unknown's voice is husky, almost quiet enough for you to miss it completely. Yet, for some strange reason, it fills your ears with such force that he might as well be yelling. You gaze up at the Knight, refusing to move a single muscle. There is some wordless understanding flickering between you two, one that you cannot recognize fully due to the hazy state of your mind. But, you can feel it. A timid ticklish sensation fluttering somewhere deep within your ribcage, like a butterfly that has just come out of its cocoon and doesn't have the strength to take flight just yet.

Then, a hand reaches for your cheek. You jolt, the tiniest of gasps escaping past your lips at the unexpected touch that leaves your skin tingling with an uncomfortable warmth that spreads down your neck and pools right in the center of your chest. And then, the Knight's face is just inches away from yours. His breaths are tickling the flush skin of your cheeks with gentle puffs of air. The feeling send your entire body buzzing with some strange energy you can't quite put your finger on. The footsteps circling around you immediately come to an abrupt stop, a heavy silence filling the room once more. If not for the deafening pounding of your heart almost rupturing your eardrums, that is.

"...I think... I've seen you somewhere before..."

The Knight's raspy voice is so close to you that it makes your head spin. You are now fully aware that you have heard that voice before. There is no doubt about it. Just not that dull and hoarse. It reawakens something buried deep within you. A flicker of common sense that got fizzled out by a certain slender boney hand. It sparkles to life, its timid flame burning brighter and brighter, fighting intensively and desperately against the drugged darkness of dissociation you were forcefully put in. Your breathing quickens, your hands begin to tremble where the clutch onto the Knight with their unsteady grip. They are fuzzy, very fuzzy, but you are sure you can remember some instances of you and the Knight sharing some precious moments together.

No... Not you and Knight... You know who this is. How could you not? You've grown so close to him in such a short amount of time. A dazzling actor with a heart so passionate for all that he does, it swept you off your feet.

-But, just as you open your mouth to finally utter the name that has been on the back of your mind this whole time, a cold hand suddenly grips your cheeks in a vice grip, and a deceivingly cheerful voice rings out right next to your ear, making you wince from the harsh loudness of it.

"...I'm your love! Your prince/ss! And you are my Knight."

You suppose this was Unknown's attempt to impersonate your voice. Or maybe it's a mockery. You couldn't really tell. Either way, it was a rather poor attempt for sure. You didn't know if you should feel offended or not. Do you seriously sound like that to him?

Maybe it shouldn't be surprising that he doesn't even see you as an equal. However, that reminder still hurts. In a peculiar surface-level way.

"...You are the prince/ss... I am the Knight..." Your attention is stolen away as the Knight repeats your lines that came from Unknown's lips, sounding like a lifeless robot attemting to poorly imitate human speech. It didn't sound like his voice at all. You frown and are not happy with it. You are not happy with it at all. Without thinking, you lean in, the grip of your hands on his shirt loosening ever so slightly as your lips just about brush against the damp skin of his cheek. That wasn't a kiss, really. You just had a hard time coordinating your movements, so, once you leaned in, your sense of balance was thrown off, and you ended up bumping against him innocently.

But, once you notice your mistake, you don't move away. You don't try to fix it. You don't try to go back to the script you were meant to play. You simply remain in that spot. Frozen. Holding in a breath as your wide eyes stare back into a pair of dull vermillion ones, just as astounded as yours are. Then, you see something change in them. A glimer of reason. Of humanity. Of some deep-rooted fondness for you that was now brought back to life, much like the one you felt simmer within you moments prior.

You feel a pair of large hands suddenly grip your shoulders, bringing you closer to the man in front of you, making your breath hitch. Until you are pressed flush against him, his chest against yours, and your nose tucked into the crook of his neck. It feels almost desperate - the way he holds you close to him. It's like he's trying to protect you from something. You feel him begin to tremble, his breaths short and quick as he shakes his head, his voice sounding so much more life-like now, but still so disoriented, it makes your heart ache.

"No... No. You... You- Y-Y/N...?"

There. The illusion shatters into pieces.

"Stop, stop-!"

You almost whimper and cover yourself as the harsh screech tears through your eardrums. The enticingly soft baritone of Unknown's narration was lost. Replaced by the grating and high-pitched shriek of rage that left you shaking from fear and wanting to run away as fast as you can. Yet, you remain frozen, not even shaking as you sit, stiff as a statue. It's like the fear paralyzed you. Your mind was running a hundred miles per minute, yet your body didn't move a single inch. It was a really uncomfortable feeling to grapple with. Almost like you were locked within your own body, unable to control it the way you were supposed to.

Then, you are harshly yanked back by the collar of your shirt and forced to stumble onto your legs, which quickly give out from under you this time around. It was already hard enough to keep your balance, but with the cold fear gripping your limbs, it was practically impossible. So, you tumbke down onto your knees, like a helpless doll, unable to stand upright without its master holding its strings. Your incompetence elicits an almost guttural growl from Unknown, who stares down at you with pure fury written all over his rather delicate features. It makes you want to shrivel up, crawl into the nearest hole, and die. He roughly pulls you back up, his fingers digging into your forearms rather painfully as he holds you up. Something that is clearly annoying him greatly, and he makes no effort to hide it.

Which is ironic, considering he's the reason you can't even stand straight in the first place.

"Looks like our prince/ss may need more training after all... What a waste." He spats out that last word with such contemt, you swore a part of you has died right then and there. "I guess it's back to the basement for you, party coordinator. I can't have you saying anything stupid on me, can I?"

Before you have any chance to protest, beg, or cry, you are pushed back onto your throne, left to wait for your inevitable punishment. The word 'basement' alone made you want to scream. It's like your body and mind have already learned what that word meant for you, pushing them to go into overdrive just from hearing it. Yet, you are still just as helpless. Trapped within your own weakened body and left at the mercy of Unknown.

As you sit there and grapple with your ever-growing panic, he turns his attention back to the Knight. Or, to be more precise, Zen. No need for any roles when the fairytale has already been sullied.

"You are not ready to be on stage yet." He mutters under his breath, one of his hands now gripping onto the other man's chin as he brings his face almost uncomfortably close, until he's mere inches away from him. You can't see the expression on his face as he has his back to you. But, Zen's eyes flick between you and Unknown, reflecting your fear. The feeling of powerlessness is almost suffocating. Not only can't you help yourself, but you also can't do a single thing for Zen as well. You are both just two dolls for Unknown to mold to his liking.

Or, rather, his Savior's liking.

"-Your eyes are lying."

Unknown's hiss is full of frustration and resentment. You are wondering why he has such a strong dislike for Zen. With you, he seems to be more annoyed at your inability to follow his wishes. Like a kid, irritated at his toy not working properly. But, with Zen? It's almost like he's actively shaping him into something else not out of his own personal twisted desire to do so, but because it's what he has been assigned to do. In other words, forced to.

You wince as you see Unknown's fingernail digging into the other man's skin, just beneath his eye. It's almost like he's holding himself back from actively gouging his eyes out right then and there. The mental image almost makes you want to throw up, frankly. And, the mere fact that you were actually considering such a gruesome thing as a very real possibility... it disturbed you.

"You will play the role you were given. It's only a matter of time. And, as for the prince/ss..." He looks back at you, his expression dark as he looks over you thoughtfully. His stare makes your skin crawl. "I'll take good care of them."

A cruel smile spreads over his face as he stands back from the poor actor. He extends his arms and circles you two once more. But, this time, his voice is loud and commanding. Each word seeping into your ears and digging into your psyche like a swarm of vicious leeches, eager to gobble up what little remained of your common sense.

"And then, we'll start our play again. From the very beginning. Over... and over... and over again. However long it takes. Time is not a problem when you're in Paradise!"

"Now... shall we begin?"

His cold hand gently caresses the side of your face as he stops just behind you. His touch is no longer providing you with any relief. It only heightens the feeling of dread enveloping you like a dense cloud of smoke.

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lostyesterday · 1 month ago

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for the ask game: voyager crew, best to worst taste in music (however you personally define best taste in music) :)

Thank you!!

Disclaimer: I personally have terrible taste in music in that I’ll literally just listen to whatever. I barely know what a genre is.

Chakotay: I think he’d probably like super cool obscure music and he wouldn’t even be pretentious about it (the best kind of person to talk to about music in my limited experience).

Harry: I think he’d have good taste in music by most people’s standards. He’d probably have a really crowd-pleasing playlist with a wide variety of genres ready for a social event.

Janeway: I can see her potentially having a similarly broad but distinguished taste in music as Harry.

B’Elanna: I was initially going to say that she would probably have similar music taste to Chakotay, but I actually think it would be funnier if she mostly liked generic pop music but never admitted this to anyone.

Kes: I’m going to project onto her and say she’s a “no real taste in music, just thinks everything sounds pretty cool” kind of person.

Neelix: I don’t know how good his taste in music would be, but I definitely think it would seem really weird to most people and he wouldn’t realize it.

The Doctor: His music taste is shown pretty frequently in canon, but other than the fact that he clearly likes opera, I don’t know enough about music to determine what it is exactly. I mean, I have nothing against opera. I just know he’s incredibly pretentious about his music tastes though so I’m ranking him lower because I’d personally find it annoying to talk to him about it.

Tom: Given basically all of Tom’s other interests, I’m going to guess his taste in music is pretty embarrassing, but that I would probably like it (I am similarly embarrassing).

Tuvok: I recall canon indicating that he solely listens to traditional Vulcan music (I could be remembering wrong). Not personally my kind of thing, and I think it would probably be boring to talk to him about his music taste.

Seven: I think her music taste would probably be weird and based on bizarre but nonetheless rigidly organized criteria. Also she would be really snobby about it. So I’d say she would probably have bad taste in music (affectionate).

#star trek voy #ask game #answered

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adarkrainbow · 9 months ago

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I will complete my trilogy of Hansel and Gretel stage adaptations of fascinating visuals with this piece. I made several posts about the Royal New Zealand Ballet's adaptation and its homages to Germanic cinema (and obscure carnival traditions). I reblogged something about the Hänsel and Gretel concert of Lindemann-Tägtren and its disturbing, horrifying but also darkly clownesque visuals... And now I bring you the San Diego Opera adaptation of the famed Hansel and Gretel opera, with quite impressive puppetry!

I will copy-paste here the content of an article by Beth Accomando, which can be read in its original form here.

It’s not every day that an opera singer gets to bring a cannibalistic witch to life.

"I lure children into the forest and I cook them into gingerbread cakes and then I eat them. It's delightful," said tenor Joel Sorensen.

But what’s not so delightful is having to wear a big puppetry rig to create a larger-than-life witch onstage.

"I am a puppet," Sorensen explained. "The witch is a puppet, a very large puppet. And I have a colleague, Iain [Gunn], behind me. He bears the bulk of the weight on his back. So I'm basically working with a puppet while trying to sing and convey a character. It's a real challenge."

The challenge for director Brenna Corner in bringing Engelbert Humperdinck's "Hansel and Gretel" to the San Diego Opera stage was how do you bring a fairy tale to life?

"One of the things that I think is really tricky about 'Hansel and Gretel' is size. How do you make two grown-ups look like they're kids and two other grown-ups look like they're adults? And then someone else looks sort of even bigger and more powerful. And quite frankly, the best way I could figure out how to do that was puppets," Corner said.

So anything that was not human became a puppet. Like the witch.

"It's different in that it's not my physicality. So, because I'm manipulating her hands, her arms, and I'm working in tandem with [Gunn] so I can't move as quickly as I might normally or as sharply but facially and vocally, I'm trying to do the same things that I would do if I were performing it without a puppet," Sorensen said.

Now if you are thinking of puppets as something you put on your hand, think again. Imagine actors completely enveloped in layers of fabric with a large sculpted head or face high above their shoulders and an arm span that exceeds 10 feet.

"We had to really kind of blow up the notion of what a puppet is in order to successfully encompass the fusion of opera and puppetry," said Judd Palmer of Old Trout Puppet Workshop in Calgary. "Our inspiration was classic 19th century children's book illustrators like Arthur Rackham or N.C. Wyeth. We wanted the whole thing to feel like it comes out of a book and it becomes the illustrations coming to life like a pop up book."

Palmer designed the puppets for a production in Canada and Iain Gunn of Animal Cracker Conspiracy here in San Diego is now the puppeteer working with Sorensen to play the Witch onstage.

"I get to live inside this character that I'm helping to bring alive," Gunn said. "But she has her own voice standing right in front of me. I don't know how to describe it, but I feel like I am transported inside this imagination. It's like I'm in the 'Time Bandits' or something like that where … we're doing something magical and it's a magical character and the only reason it's alive is because we're in there giving it our all. So it's pretty cool."

The puppets engage the audience in a unique way.

"It's this agreement that the audience makes with the performers," Corner explains. "That we agree not to see the person who's obviously a person and instead we agree to look at what is fabric and some PVC pipe and a plaster-like face, right? But we agree to do that. So what's extraordinary to me about puppetry is that as an audience, we're continually investing our imagination in seeing the thing that the performers want us to see and then as the performers keep investing in that then all of a sudden they go away. They don't exist there anymore and it becomes something else kind of magical."

By not trying to fool the audience and instead asking them to play along in this game of make-believe, the audience becomes a co-conspirator.

Palmer pointed out, "You can see the puppeteer right there in a ridiculous outfit. They're sweating and panting from having to run across the stage and they're waving the puppet around. It lets us all in on the joke in a way but also in the kind of the dream. It makes it evident to everybody in the audience that they are going to have to invest imaginatively in this in the same way as the people on stage are."

It's recommended that you bring a child-like sense of imagination to this show.

"That joy that you had when you were a kid," Corner said. "And you could imagine what would happen if a stick was suddenly a giant scary monster. I think that's what you want to bring to this production because that's what this production creates is the sense of wonder and joy and mystery that's inherent in being a kid."

And inherent in a story that begins with the magical possibilities of once upon a time…

San Diego Opera’s production of Engelbert Humperdick’s "Hansel and Gretel" opens Saturday and will have three additional performances through Feb. 16 at San Diego Civic Theatre.

#hansel and gretel #hansel and gretel opera #fairytale opera #san diego opera hansel and gretel #fairytale witch #puppetry #stage puppetry #hansel and gretel adaptation

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