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The Might of the Realm

8.9K / Din Djarin x Princess!Reader

Summary: Din Djarin, General to your father’s army, finds himself in the gladiator arena of a foreign planet fighting for the success of your diplomatic mission.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please). Established secret relationship (they are stupid in love), Mando'a nicknames (mesh'la, cyar'ika, cyare), the helmet comes off but reader is blindfolded, bath sex, fingering, unprotected PiV (Star Wars is made up and in space, so we pretend it's fine). A wee bit of angst if you squint.

A/N: Written for @beefrobeefcal's The Glandolorian challenge! This is the same AU that I imagined for my Kiss It Better drabble, with the same Princess!reader: set post Season 3, Carson Teva has dispatched Din to a New Republic stronghold planet to train and strengthen their armies; he becomes their General and falls in love with the realm's princess. I imagine this story to take place before Kiss It Better, when they are still sneaking around 🥰.

Many moons before another General (🤭) came on the scene, I outlined a long story for this AU that I'm not sure I'll ever write, so kindly forgive my self indulgent word count - I really took advantage of this challenge for a chance to write these two 🥰 Struggled a bit with the Dieter Bravo reference, but I think I found something that works (Thank you to @morallyinept for your invaluable character dialogue database!) Also got inspired by someone's Gladiator II premier look and snuck in one (1) The Princess Bride reference 🤭 / Dividers by @saradika-graphics

“No.”

“Princess, it will be fine.”

“I said ‘no’, Din.  We came to pay our respects to the new rule and to affirm that our established trade routes through Flavin 5’s space will remain intact.  We did not come to be participate in some archaic gladiatorial fighting match to assert dominance.”

Even through the blankness of Din’s visor you can tell he’s amused by your hiss of a retort but is holding back his reaction.  His stoic and impassive demeanor normally reserved for others, you know that if he’s being less than fully direct with you it’s for one of two reasons: 1) he doesn’t want to lie or 2) he doesn’t want to risk your ire.  You suppose it’s the latter in this case, and that thought alone is reason enough for you to calm your emotional response to this predicament and reassess.

Taking a deep breath, you rest one hand on your hip and mimic a stance you’ve seen your fearsome General make many times; with your other you gesture at Din to present his argument for voluntarily sending your guard, the top lieutenants of the army he commands, into a battle arena on foreign soil.

“Mesh’la, I know your instinct is to protect your people, but you know as well as I that our troops, and especially the men who have been deemed fit to accompany you on this diplomatic mission, are more than capable of handling themselves in any combat situation.”

Din almost chuckles at the way you tilt your pretty head ready to interrupt, his feisty cyar’ika; he continues hurriedly, but with the calm confidence he knows you respond to, “You diligently studied Flavian traditions and history before embarking on this trip – you yourself taught me all I know of these people.  Despite the new ruling family’s decision to resurrect this ancient custom, what is your sense of these people?  Do they seem barbaric?  Cruel for cruelty’s sake?  This isn’t the Petranaki arena on Geonosis.”

You would roll your eyes at Din’s perfectly level-headed analysis, if you didn’t consider his strategic and tactical mind one of his most attractive qualities; Din’s shrewd ability to consider all angles of any situation is one of your army’s greatest strengths, and one that never fails to weaken you at the knees.  He’s taking this situation as seriously as you need him to, and so, you consider your answer carefully - working through your thoughts out aloud, “No, they are not a cruel people – and you’re right, these gladiatorial games were never about execution or spectacle like they were on Geonosis.  The ancient Flavian events were meant to bring the people, no matter class or station, together to be entertained, usually in celebration.”

“Do you think that tradition is being respected?  Or do you suspect some hidden agenda?”

You remunerate on this, thinking back to the new Flavian royal family you met earlier today, “No.  I believe them to be sincere.  Their purpose in resurrecting this historic custom is, I think, to build a connection with their people.  Participating in the gladiator match would be a show a respect for the Flavian people and a celebration of the new royal family.”  You take a deep breath, “So, we should participate.”

“I agree completely, Princess.”

This time you do roll your eyes at Din, but there’s no arrogance in your expression, “Fine.  But Din, just because there’s no ill intent does not mean there isn’t risk.  We don’t know what to expect from such a fight – there hasn’t been one like it held in centuries.  Who knows what opponents our men would face in the arena?”

“No matter who or what our troops are pitted against tomorrow, Princess, there is no doubt in my mind that they will be able to handle it.”

Nodding thoughtfully, you have to agree, Din did train them himself after all, “I believe it.  Especially since they will have their fearless General there to lead them.”

“No.”

“Din, it will be fine.”

“I said ‘no’, mesh’la.  I cannot leave you unprotected and without guard in the Royal Box,” huffs Din.

Stepping into Din’s space, you lay your hands on the shiny beskar that sits across his expansive chest, swearing you can feel it vibrate beneath your gentle palm from his thundering heartbeat; tipping yourself towards the great warrior before you, you feel his big, gloved hands move to your waist to steady you just as you knew they would.  Giving Din your most innocuous expression, you coo, “There is no need for me to have a protective guard if we deem the Flavian royals to be of honourable intent; if it is safe enough for our soldiers to participate in the gladiatorial games, then it is safe enough for me to be alone in the Royal Box.”

Din’s smile at your cleverness and persuasive tactics is hidden beneath his helmet, but he’s yet not ready to show you he’s given in so he remains as silent and cold as the armour he wears.

You use this opportunity to loop one arm around your hulking General’s neck to bring him closer to you still, your free hand takes one of his from your waist and brings it up to his helmet in a silent request.  The familiar click of Din’s helmet unlocking is the only invitation you need - using your nose to lift the brim of his helmet slightly above his strong jaw so you can find his plush lips with your own, you feel the hint of a smile against your pout before you deepen the kiss.  Opening to let Din lick into your mouth, you melt against the hard metal that represents everything he is to you: extraordinary, flawless, indestructible.

And such a good kisser, letting loose a soft whimper you nearly miss Din chuckle something against your lips.

“What’s that, General?” you sigh dreamily.

“I said, Princess, I saw what you did there, and that was NOT the way,” chastising with no actual bite, Din lowers and relocks his helmet.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” flashing him that breathtaking smile of yours that always makes him forget himself, “I’m only following the logic you already agreed to.  Grogu and I will be fine watching you showcase the might of our realm from the safety of our spectator seats tomorrow.”

“Grogu will be with me in the fighting area.”

“No.”

“Cyar’ika, he will be fine.”

“He’s just a baby, Din!”

“And a Mandalorian apprentice.  You’ve seen what a formidable fighter he’s already grown to be.”

And so on, and so forth – the two of you, the General and his Princess, spiritedly discussing and debating matters that affect your realm.  The thought crosses your mind, not for the first time, that when you ascend the throne after your father you will need a ruling partner who challenges you like this: one who makes you wiser and forces you to expand your horizons, but trusts your compassion and tender heart, and who you trust to keep you and your kingdom safe.  And as you always do when this thought naturally lends itself to an image of Din by your side, tall and proud as your King consort, you push it away as far as you can.  It hurts too much to imagine something that seems to materialize so clearly and happily, as if it could actually become a reality, when you know it could never be.

The crowd in the arena is deafening.  Already amped from the opening entertainment acts, they’re now cheering loud, calling for the main event.

Sitting front row in the Royal Box, you scan over the floor of the arena – knowing that it’s unlikely, but still hoping for a flash of silver beskar from behind one of the gates that line the sides of the arena floor, behind which lay the holding areas for the gladiator fighters selected for today’s match.  Once or twice, you think you spy the sunlight catch something shiny from beneath the stands, but before you can look more closely, someone from the Flavian royal family will engage your attention.  Though your mind never strays far from Din and his, your men, you cannot forget yourself or your role - your purpose for being in this arena today: you’re here to secure the continued prosperity your kingdom and strengthen your realm’s relationship with a long-standing ally. 

If you’re honest, despite the trepidation that sits heavily atop your heart, you cannot help but be affected by the electricity of your environment.  The stadium thrums and pulses with the excitement of thousands of Flavian citizens who have come out in the hot sun to partake in today’s festivities – you see children of all ages waving noisemakers and colourful flags, men and women young and old already cheering for who they anticipate to be today’s victors.  Based on the chatter in your tent, the news of your General fighting today has spread like wildfire through the city – very few Flavians have ever seen a Mandalorian, never mind have the privilege of seeing one fight; today was going to be a day they remember for the rest of their lives.  As for your companions in the Royal Box, you’re happy to see that your and Din’s assessment had been accurate – there is no underlying bloodlust or malevolent show of power associated with these fights, everything is only in good fun; your royal cohorts are all in splendid moods, showing genuine enthusiasm akin to the original spirit of the same games put on by their ancestors.

You’re just chatting amiably with the new Flavian king about having some of the wonderful Flavian wine and fruit you’ve enjoyed in the tent sent up to your room later, when a fanfare of trumpets echoes throughout the stadium announcing the start of today’s fight.  The crowd quiets to a soft buzzing as the amphitheatre’s speakers announce the entrance of your fighters; the volume rises again as the audience goes wild when the might of your realm runs in through the gladiator’s entrance.  You can’t help but beam, chest bursting with pride at the impression they make on the Flavian crowd – a big, broad Mandalorian General, towering in his stance and intimidating in his majestic armour, flanked by your guard: five of the strongest, most formidable soldiers from your father’s army. 

You spy Grogu before the Flavian royals do, but it’s only because you know where to look.  A perch for him has been attached to the side of his father’s jet pack so he can remain secure at Din’s shoulder during combat, but have the flexibility to jump off and join the fray if needed.  The instant the Flavian prince spots him, he excitedly points him out to the others – and you take great pleasure in informing your hosts that they, in fact, have the honour of seeing two Mandalorians today.

With only a few moments before their opponents arrive in the arena, you take a closer look at your fighting contingent – they have been outfitted with Flavian weapons (swords, blasters, electro shields), the standard issue armament of your kingdom they normally carry nowhere in sight; the only exception is of course Din, who carries the gladiatorial weapons like the others and all of his usual weaponry – you chuckle to yourself, imagining the poor Flavian weapons master who tried to strip a Mandalorian of his religion.

A loud voice announcing the incoming fighters for Flavin 5 jerks you back to the scene before you.  The crowd thunders as a squadron of battle droids nearly a hundred strong marches into the arena, each carrying varying sized blasters or blaster rifles in addition to their own swords, a few wielding double ended electro staffs.  You barely have time to fret over how outnumbered Din and your troops are before the king is rising in his seat and giving the ceremonial hand gesture for the fight to begin.

You hear your General shout quick, decisive commands and his trusty men move swiftly into the desired formation, electro shields lit up and expanded in one coordinated movement.  They advance as a team, strong and sure, every aim of their blasters true – each man practiced at covering the comrades at their sides as the droids begin shooting back.

When your men are close enough to the front line of the remaining droids, the intimidating battle cry you hear emanating from Din’s helmet is repeated in response at tenfold the volume by his men, a signal to shift fluidly into a tiered offensive formation that you recognize from watching their training on the palace grounds at home.

The legion moves with precision and speed, the crouched soldiers providing the impenetrable shielding needed by the men who stand tall as a precision sniper team that can’t be touched; your Mandalorian the tallest, unphased by the droid fire that bounces harmlessly off his beskar armour.

The formation is far more effective than the static positions of the droids and in almost no time at all, your fighters have driven the remaining thirty or so droids back towards the entrance gate.  Answering another roared order, your contingent springs apart with an unrivalled ferocity to attack the remaining droids via direct combat.

Din cuts down mechanical fighter after mechanical fighter, mowing through the defensive lines of the Flavian droids that have none of his agility and lighting quick reflexes, bolstered by his trusted troops at his back who move with the confidence of men who have been trained by the best, used to fighting with the best.

Grogu has left his father, jumping from his perch onto and over droids with lightening speed - they shoot at him with their blasters only to miss their fast-moving green target every time and take each other out instead.

You watch their every move with bated breath – every bolt that connects with your realm’s armour quickens your breath, the clashing sounds of weapon on weapon too loud in your ears, and each hit or wound sustained by one of your men jolts a phantom pain through your own body.

When the last droid soldier falls, your men, your man, stand victorious at the epicenter of the arena; bloodied, exhausted to the point that the heaving of their chest plates can be seen from the Royal Box… but all standing.

You can hardly believe it - your heart exploding with pride, tears nearly springing from your eyes in relief.  Looking to your hosts, you half expect them to congratulate you and acknowledge the victory of your fighters, but instead, you see them still engaged with the scene before them, eyes trained on the arena floor.

They smile with genuine excitement and anticipation, and your eyes snap back to Din and your soldiers at the sound of the brassy, melodic fanfare now being played throughout the stadium.  The crowd rises to its feet with an ear-splitting roar as the orchestral horns continue to crescendo, announcing the coming of something.

You glance at the Flavian prince, his face alight with boyish joy – he’s excited in an almost childish way and when he sees you looking at him, he beams and points to one of the gates that’s now opening, voice elated, “Cliff beasts!”

Cliff beasts?!? You stand from your seat and rush to the edge of the balcony, gripping the railing and leaning as far as you can so you can see what new challenger is about to enter the arena.  You gasp when you see it – a woolly beast larger than Din and his men combined, trotting out into the arena on four stubby but powerful legs.  A magnificent horn, the length of which must span at least half of the creature’s massive body protrudes from its snout, thick and battle ready. 

A mudhorn??  Of all the beasts to have entered the arena, what where the chances it would be the beast of Din’s clan signet?  For a moment, you’re alarmed that maybe there have been unseen machinations at play and you’ve been blind to it all – that you’ve somehow failed in your diplomatic duties, failing your kingdom, your men, Din. 

You study the Flavian prince who’s now proclaiming to his father, the king, “These cliff beasts are so large!”  The two of them are enthusiastically waving and gesturing to the other attendees in the Royal Box, their chatter is of wonderment and genuine amazement at the sight of this creature that they’ve never before beheld on their planet - you conclude, with relief, that it has to be a coincidence.  Wait, what did he mean – these? 

Peering down into the arena again you see a second, smaller mudhorn ambling behind the first.  A parent and its child!  Your heart tightens, imagining how scared the two creatures have to be and how fiercely the adult will fight in order to protect its young.  You catch Din’s visor pointed up at you from the arena floor and you know that he understands the distressed expression of your face perfectly.

Immediately, your General gathers his men and lays out his strategy – unknowable to the crowds of the arena, but you can read Din clear as day: he won’t cause harm to another living creature if he doesn’t have to.

Din and his soldiers slowly fan out, purposefully ignoring the young calf while surrounding the adult mudhorn.  As expected, the mudhorn charges in attack.  Trying to blink as little as possible for fear of missing anything, you watch wide-eyed as your men deftly leap and roll out of the path of the stampeding animal.  When the mudhorn stops and turns back towards the perceived threat to its young, the soldiers surround it again – rocking on the balls of their feet ready to evade its charge again.  They aren’t always as lucky or fast enough – you cry out in anguish whenever the Mudhorn makes contact, sending your guard flying, landing with a sickening thud on the arena floor from the force of the impact.  The crowd gasps in worry, cheering louder than ever when your men get up to rejoin their brethren in repeating the same maneuver over and over.

Din’s plan is working, the mudhorn is getting tired. 

Part of you is relieved, the other hopes that its fatigue doesn’t make the creature desperate; though your men are still standing, you don’t know if any of them can sustain more injury to their bodies – an increasing danger that only grows as Din and your soldiers begin tightening the proverbial noose.  You spy Din protracting his fibercord whip from his vambrace by hand only seconds before he does what you suddenly realize he’s going to do.  The mudhorn is pawing at the ground, exhausted and angry while your men surround it, now each only about an arm’s length away, when Din uses a jetpack blast to leap onto its back - throwing the whipcord around its horn and pulling back on his makeshift reins.  The other men scatter and the crowd screams as your General rides the wildly bucking animal around the arena.  At their General’s direction, your men are now divided between two tasks: half shoot at the galloping beast that unwillingly bears their fearless leader and his son, their blaster bolts a distraction but doing little to the mudhorn’s tough hide; the remaining men tasked with capturing and restraining the calf – the seemingly easier task. 

Heart nearly in your throat, you watch as Grogu climbs down the front of his father’s arm and onto the mudhorn, quickly crawling to the top of its head where the massive horn joins the creature’s skull.  With one of his little green hands holding onto the cord his father holds taut and the other placed directly on the mudhorn’s woolly head, you see Grogu close his eyes in concentration.  Gradually, the mudhorn’s steps slow and its movements around the arena become unsteady, then wobbly, before it finally teeters and crashes onto its side fast asleep.  Din jumps off just in time to avoid being crushed by the animal’s huge body - Grogu does a dramatic flip into the air at the same time and lands perfectly in his father’s waiting arms.  The crowd roars its approval. 

The Flavian royals next to you are on their feet, clapping and cheering with astonishment and admiration – congratulating you on the victory of your men and thanking you for the fantastic show you’ve provided them today.  Clasping your hands in appreciation, they heartedly assure you that the documents confirming your planet’s trade routes will be completed and delivered to you tomorrow. 

You express your appreciation before turning your attention back towards the arena, heart full - relieved and proud of the men still on the fighting floor.  You have to admit they make quite the sight waving to the cheering crowds while standing next to a sleeping mudhorn, two of your lieutenants holding a makeshift leash with a smaller mudhorn standing docile at its end.  To the admiring masses, the large beast was subdued by these men, the might of your realm, but you know the truth.  You blow a little kiss to Grogu who pretends to catch it in his little hand before waving back, happy but somewhat tired.

Even with his helmet on you can read Din’s expression as he looks up to the Royal Box.  Where is my kiss, mesh’la?

You smile back a playful smirk just for the unseen eyes behind the dark T-visor.  Later.

You pace in the large, ornamental suite that your hosts have graciously provided – it’s beautiful, a true testament to Flavian luxury and craftsmanship, but you have no attention to spare for its finery.  Not when you’re straining your ears to listen for footsteps coming down the hall, eyes continuing to dart towards your door as if for some reason you may have missed hearing them come.

“Princess…”

Your lady’s maids, Olivia and Serine, pace right along with you, following your tracks around the grand room.  They’re as exhausted as you are, but you know their hearts to be as determined as your own; you give them the most indulgent look you can muster and any plea to ask you to rest dies on their lips.  The three of you continue to take turns listening intently for the telltale sounds of a soldiers’ march.

Finally, you hear something.  Faint but purposeful footsteps walking in synchronicity – the herald of well-trained soldiers with an intended destination.  Perked, you look to your faithful companions with renewed vigor and sprint to your door, flinging it open without grace and hurrying into the dimly lit hallway.

They’re still far enough down the hall that you have some time, even with your hastened steps, to study how your men appear to be faring; you know that when you ask, they will insist they are fine so not to worry you.

Two of your country’s finest are limping slightly, one of your lieutenants and a captain.  Your other lieutenant is walking fine, but he has a nasty gash on his forearm, dripped, half dried blood wrapping around his wrist like a terrible bracelet.  The armour of your realm that the legion proudly wears has taken a beating, covered in evidence of today’s bout – marked, dirty and bloodied, but none of the men themselves appear to be grievously injured.

But it’s the man at the front of the pack that you study the most sincerely.  Din’s gait is not too unfamiliar for you to suspect he’s hiding any serious injury - he would know better than that.  After the battle on the Fields of Planoor he had learned not to conceal his injuries from you, that you were so familiar with his body and the way it moves, you would know something was wrong without a single word from him.  As Din stalks towards your group, you can feel the hot gaze from behind his visor assessing you just as you assess him; your General holds himself a bit straighter, his massive frame puffing in pride.  He bears no sign of serious injury, a little sigh of relief escapes your lips as you continue to run down the hall, Olivia and Serine hot on your heels.  But his back is probably killing him.

The men stop to a coordinated halt as you reach them; their weapons sheathed, they each raise their left fists to their chests and bow, “Princess.”

You wave your hands in a graceful but frantic manner, dismissing this need for formality, “Please.  Are you okay?  Is everyone alright?”

Reaching for Grogu, your heart settles a little when he climbs down from his secured perch on his father’s shoulder and leaps into your arms.  Fussing over him, you check his fuzzy green ears and sweet face for injuries; when you run your hands over his limbs and body to do the same, he coos and giggles as if being tickled.  Resting your palm against the security of the beskar rondel he wears beneath his tunic, you exhale in contented relief and place a long kiss to his head.  He’s okay.

Those same words are now being echoed out loud in the low modulated rasp of the voice you trust most in this galaxy, “He’s okay, Princess.  Not a scratch on him, the little womp rat.  The Lieutenant could do with some fresh dressings for his arm, but the rest of us are fine – a bit banged up and tired, but nothing a warm bath and a good night’s rest can’t fix.”

Knowing that Din’s helmet will give nothing away, you study the faces of your countrymen, trying to ascertain if their beloved General is downplaying the damage for your sake.  Finding no deception in their eyes, and knowing that they know you would know, you relent, “Have you eaten?”

“We were given sustenance after our victory.”

You raise your eyebrow at this, suspecting that Din’s words answer only for his men, but not necessarily himself.  Nodding, you give your final charge for the evening, “Olivia, Serine, please kindly see our brave soldiers to their rooms, run their baths and tend to them as needed.”

Your ladies-in-waiting curtsey in assent at your words and intuitively, Olivia extends her arms for Grogu – there are no secrets between you and your closest companions.  Din nods at her and she takes her favourite little green playmate into her arms, happy to help clean him and put him to bed tonight while his father is otherwise occupied.

Din turns to face his men – similarly, there are no secrets between the General and his most trusted squadron, men who love their princess with an unyielding loyalty that rivals only his own.  Your father’s soldiers salute their esteemed leader, bidding their Princess and General goodnight before following Olivia and Serine to their assigned quarters.

Silently, you take Din’s hand and lead him back down the hallway to your room, careful not to hurry should he be much battered and sore, though the urgency in your chest is nearly bubbling over.  Your concern appears to have been unfounded because as soon as the door to your room shuts, Din sweeps you into his arms with a force that takes your breath away - crushing you to his chest so tightly that you can feel him deflate beneath the hard beskar as he exhales his own long held sigh of relief.

You chuckle, “You would have thought that I was the one fighting cliff beasts in the arena today.”

“Cliff beasts?” Din tilts his head quizzically at you.

“I’ll tell you later.  Right now, let’s get you out of your armour,” your fingers slide under his pauldrons, feeling for the familiar release mechanism.

“Cyar’ika, if you wanted to have your way with me, you only had to ask - you didn’t need to send me into a fight arena with a mudhorn,” jokes Din, wincing slightly from the stretch of his muscles as they contract and relax with the weight of his armour being lifted from his aching body.

You cluck your tongue in playful disapproval, even as you continue to make quick work of removing the rest of Din’s armour.  With now practiced precision, you lift off his chest plates and the attachment frame, unhook his jetpack, unclip his cape, slide off his vambraces, unstrap his thigh plates, unlace his boots, unbuckle his belt, unzip his flight suit.  The ceremony of this process is one you will never tire of, nor is its significance lost on you. 

Din, a Mandalorian, willingly lets you touch his armour and remove it from his body – trusting your delicate hands with his most precious property: the physical embodiment of his honour and creed, the very symbol of his people.  Not only that, but he allows you to strip him of protection and reveal his vulnerability to you, exposing him and his softness – he exists as the man beneath the beskar for you and you only.  You’re the most privileged being in the galaxy – the weight of Din’s trust in you is something you will never take for granted.

When Din stands before you in only his boxers and helmet, you begin your study of his body in earnest.  Dancing your fingers across his hard and tanned chest, you trace old scars in order to separate them from new marks; palming his torso and checking his thick arms with the same careful hands.  Rounding your warrior, you continue your roaming examination over his muscular back and listen intently for any change in Din’s breathing when you press down on his tense shoulders – relieved when you hear him groan in satisfaction instead of pain.  As you’re lightly scraping your nails over his wide thighs you hear the telltale unclicking of Din’s helmet – he beckons you.

Rising to meet his lowering face, you use your thumbs to lift the brim of Din’s helmet slightly, always keeping your eyes closed so you don’t see any of his face – not for the world would you betray Din’s trust.  Mouth finding his easily, you kiss Din gingerly – unsure of what injuries he may have sustained beneath his helmet; lightly pecking his soft pout and pressing restrained affection to the corner of his mouth.

“I’m not going to break, cyare,” Din grins as if he’s reading your mind.

Snapping down his helmet with a bit more force than necessary, you peer up into the black horizonal stripe of his visor and sniffle, “I can see some big bruises starting to form over your abdomen and on the back of your thighs.  And the muscles of your arms and back are overstrained and need to loosen or you’re going to be more sore tomorrow than you already will be.”  The emotions you held in all day now start to spill over your lash line; dropping your head, you cry softly at the toll today’s events have taken on your strong man’s body and how he bears it without complaint.  Contrite and indebted that he sustained these injuries at the behest of your kingdom - your behest, for you. 

Din gathers you in his arms and pulls you flush to his chest, tilting back his helmet again he kisses you lovingly, devotedly – with every stroke of his tongue, every nibble of your lips, he reminds you that it is not only his duty, but his honour to serve your kingdom, to serve you.  He would do anything for you, without you ever having to bid it.  It is not in him to deny you anything, his heart’s desire is to give you everything.

“I love you, Princess.”

“I love you, General.”

Not without some difficulty, you pull yourself out of Din’s embrace and lead him to the suite’s fresher, running the taps of the large tub and scenting the water with fragrant, healing oils.

“I can do that, mesh’la,” one of Din’s large meaty hands covers yours as you test the temperature of the water.

Shaking your head shyly, you bring that hand up to your lips and kiss its calloused knuckles, “Please. Let me serve you, Din.”

“That is not befitting of a princess.”

“I am not like other princesses.”

Tilting your chin up with two of his thick fingers, you can feel the smile behind Din’s next words, “No, you are not.  There is no one like you in the galaxy.”

“And I’m yours.”

The helmet, never having been relocked, is lifted again and Din sweeps you into a passionate, hungry kiss, different than the reassuring and devoted kisses of earlier – deeper, greedier.

“Get in the tub, Din,” you murmur against his lips while you can, before you forget your task and give yourself over to him completely.

Chuckling, Din can only acquiesce whenever he hears a direct request from your mouth – he never hears you command him as his sovereign, only ever as his love.  No matter – he would obey either way.  Stripping off his boxers, helmet still on, Din slips into the steamy water of the deep soaker tub, letting out a heady groan at the way all his muscles relax in reaction to the sudden heat against his rough skin. 

With a soft footedness that still surprises Din, so used to picking up every little sound with his helmet’s acoustic sensors, you reappear suddenly with a small tray table bearing various Flavian fruits and wine for Din and a thin silk scarf for you.

“I know you didn’t eat after the match,” you say matter-of-factly when Din tilts his helmet in question.  Neither did you.

“Will you join me, cyar’ika?”

“Of course, my love,” you begin to disrobe, perfectly understanding the double meaning of your General’s question.

Though he’s seen and worshipped your naked form more times that you can count, there’s always something about being unable to see the eyes that devour you which makes you shy.  Able to detect the rise in temperature of your face, your bashfulness amuses Din to no end – if only you could see his own expression; every time Din sees you bare before him is like the first time, he thinks you might even laugh at the slack jawed, awestruck expression hidden by his helmet – if Mandalorians were to believe in a literal afterlife, then Din could well be deemed a heretic for he’s sure he’s already seen heaven.

Stepping in the tub, careful not to trip over Din’s strong legs, you settle on your knees in the water near his feet; taking the wash towel from the side of the tub, you lather it up with your own luxurious cleanser, the scent of which you know Din loves and begin to wash his body.  With great care and affection, you wash and massage Din’s feet, calves and thick thighs, the two of you quietly chatting about your individual perspectives on what transpired in the arena today as you move up his body with your loving touch.

Din groans when you wash his groin area, and you smirk and pretend to throw him a look of disapproval even as you stroke his fast-hardening cock with the washcloth.

“Cyare…” he strains.

“Hmmmm?” Humming, you shimmy to straddle his lap and innocently begin to wash his hard chest and tree trunk arms.

“You’re teasing…”

“Not at all, I’m cleaning,” you giggle.  Rising onto your knees, you lean over Din’s mountainous shoulder to clean his back, dangling your wet, supple breasts right at helmet visor level.  Definitely teasing. 

Two can play at this game. Din’s modulator muffles his snicker as he makes sure you’re entirely engrossed in your task of scrubbing his back, concentrating adorably so that you don’t notice when his big paws reach for your chest, groping and kneading the pillowy flesh with hardly any warning.

You squeal and grind down on Din’s cock - in retaliation he zeros in on your already pert nipples, rough fingers roll and pinch, flick and tug your pretty peaks until you forget your work and bury your face into his shoulder, completely lost to the pleasure that only the General can give you.

“Din,” your voice a soft whimper, needy yet still regal and melodic, “… you have to…”

“What do I have to do, Princess?”

His teasing tone makes you gush; this man knows exactly what he’s doing – you try to claw back some semblance of control over the situation, “You need to let me tend to any injuries you may have sustained under your helmet.  And let me wash your hair.”

“Oh, do I?” 

Nodding in earnest with your eyebrows raised, “Yes, and then you have to rest.  Your body needs it.”

“My body needs you, mesh’la.”

Leaning back, your eyes follow the trail of your fingers as they rake down the smooth skin of Din’s broad chest, slowing over the various long-healed scars whose tales of origin you know by heart, you prepare yourself to argue your way.  But the truth is, you don’t want your way – you need Din, too.  Here on Flavin 5, there is no fear of getting caught, no need for hurried kisses or fleeting touches – the two of you have time.  Time to enjoy one another.  Time to let your hearts run rampant with affection and want.

Tomorrow morning is the last morning you can wake lazily in Din’s arms, like any other couple waking to just another day in the rest of your lives together.  Tomorrow you will return home and your love for your steady warrior will once again need to be tucked away close to your heart, safe from the prying eyes of the kingdom. 

So, you don’t argue.

“Injuries first, General.”

“I have none, Princess.”  You can feel Din’s shit eating grin radiating from behind the beskar.

Grinding down a little on Din’s hardening length as a warning, “I should like to see for myself, thanks.”

“Of course, mesh’la.  I would see you satisfied.”  Though still smirking, it’s with enormous feeling that Din picks up the scarf from the side table and with his practiced hand, covers your eyes; wrapping the silk around your head twice before tying it securely.  He doesn’t ask you if you can see, knowing that if you could you would volunteer it.  Sitting prettily with your hands clasped together, you wait for the welcomed sound of Din’s helmet being lifted and set down where you scarf previously lay.

Heart full, your hands reach out to gently touch Din’s face, fingers tracing over the most intimate part of the man you love.  His jaw relaxes as you stroke though his facial hair and his plush lips curl as your thumb brushes over them.  Din’s strong nose feels unbroken, thank goodness – your gentle kiss to the tip earns you a breathy chuckle that tickles your throat.  Mapping the strong lines of his forehead, you discover your first wound at Din’s hairline – the soft curls of his brown (or so you’re told) hair already matted and sticking with dried blood.  When your fingers caress Din’s temple, you find a small superficial cut by his left eye, and your heart tightens further upon feeling a nastier slice on the apple of his cheek.  Even without seeing and Din giving away no hint of tenderness at your touch, you’re sure there are bruises starting to form on the face you love.

Though you’ve never seen it, you know Din’s face – positive that you could pick it out of a crowd as surely as you could your own in a mirror.  It’s the face of the strongest warrior you’ve ever known, one whose honour and integrity is as unbreakable as the beskar armour that covers his body.  A protector who fights without fail to defend the weak, uphold justice, and push back against tyranny and corruption – no matter how hard something may be or the risk to his own self, the man who bears this face will never back down, always standing up for what’s right.  It’s the face of a man who loves fiercely – loves his Creed, his people, his duty, his son, his woman.  You.  You know the face of this man, the man who owns your heart, your body, your soul - wholly and completely.

You wash this face, carefully cleaning your discoveries.  Then, before you wash his hair, you cradle Din’s head delicately and check for bumps and scrapes, sighing in relief when you find none.  Lathering up a generous amount of your shampoo, you distribute it through Din’s curls, massaging his scalp as he groans in approval.  Your smile at the sound could melt even the steeliest warrior’s heart, Din is sure – it melts his.

When his hair is rinsed and face pat dry, salve applied to his wounds, you attempt to get Din to eat from the food on the tray.

“After, Princess,” Din’s voice somehow lower than when it’s filtered through his modulator.

“After what?” you pretend to be confused.

“After I have what I’m truly hungry for,” you can feel the sides of his face lift beneath your hands as the curve of his mouth pulls up into a wicked grin.

You flash him what you think is a mirroring smirk, “And what is that, General?”

Din takes an excruciating long time trailing his fingers featherlike down the column of your throat as an answer.  His massive hand skate over your naked breasts, pinky pretending to be caught on your pert nipple before catching up with its brethren that have moved on to tickling your soft tummy.  When his hand finally dips below the water, it’s no more hurried, no less teasing – knuckling down the front of you, his hand so big and wide, his thumb and baby finger stretch to slowly stroke along the apex of your thighs at the same time with no additional effort at all.  You quiver at your warrior’s languid and gentle touch – that these same hands are trained for weapons and brutality is not lost on you; how lucky are you to be able to feel them as they are now, so close to where you need them, reverent and worshipful.  Hands meant for building up and protecting, instead of tearing down and destroying - and yet you know them capable of both - and moreover, that they can and will do both to you. 

Leaning forward to press your lips tenderly to Din’s, you whisper, “Promise you’ll eat after?”

He knows the condition of the ask is empty - you need him as much as he does you, both of you hungry for more than the food your empty stomachs growl for.  The worry you felt for your Mandalorian every second he was in the arena today has morphed into a blazing desire now that you have him secure once again in your loving arms; even when he was facing blaster fire or the murderous glare of a mudhorn today, Din’s thoughts never strayed far from the moment he could return to your warm embrace.

But he plays along, because he knows you need to hear it, “I promise, cyare.” And then, because your well being is always as much on the forefront of his mind as his is yours, Din adds, “As long as you eat with me.”

“Promise.  Now touch me please, Din,” you’re trembling, not just from want but need, a need for the reassurance that he’s here safe, that the violence you saw in the arena did not touch him.

Even if he had not pledged his fealty to your kingdom, Din would submit to your request, to you – if it were up to him, he would spend the remainder of his days catering to your every whim, carrying out your will, doing anything and everything necessary to ensure your happiness.

He parts your folds with his fingers, finding you slick and ready for him.  As Din glides his thick digits along your seam, your soft moans fill the steamy room, “Ohhh Din, yes right there, please.”

“Such a polite little princess, isn’t she?” hums Din, loving how responsive you always are for him.  He kisses down your neck, nipping at your shoulder as you come to a rest against his chest.  You’re shuddering from the way he’s stroking your pussy, swirling infuriatingly at your needy hole but never dipping inside, teasing you with long broad swipes up to your clit.

Pressing his thumb against your already slippery nub, Din takes advantage of your lack of sight and surprises you by dipping his head down to take one of your breasts in his mouth at the same time – you cry out from this sudden double attack, body trying to run.

The old bounty hunter in him activated, Din chuckles and increases the pressure of his hand on your pulsing clit, and with his free hand, he holds you firm by the nape of your neck - face now buried deep in your cleavage, biting and sucking every bit of soft flesh his mouth can find.  Rolling your pert nipple between his teeth, he seals his lips over the sensitive peak and murmurs, “I got you, mesh’la.  Let me make you feel good.”

At his sure words, you immediately relax and willingly giving yourself over to your warrior, sighing in surrender as he worships you with his fingers and his mouth.  This is the only time that you allow yourself to be covetous of what is not rightfully yours – Din’s face you may know without having ever seen, but the lascivious sight of what he looks like when he loses himself in your pleasure remains a mystery.  You secretly long to see it – wishing to know how dark his eyes burn, how his lips wet and plump, how his brow might furrow or relax in reaction to your whines and whimpers. 

If you were his riduur – no.  No, you can’t let yourself go down that path of longing, it only ends in heartbreak. 

As if he can sense that your mind has started to wander, Din slips two of his thick fingers deep in your heat and curls them, beckoning you back to him.  You fly right back into the moment and to the space of devotion that he holds just for you, gasping for air at the stretch of his welcomed intrusion.

“Need to get you ready for my cock, cyare,” purrs your Mandalorian, bringing you back fully and binding your heart to his in the here and now.

Nodding almost mindlessly, you crash your mouth to Din’s.  The kiss is desperate, needy for so many reasons – your tongues licking and chasing, dancing to the song of perfect pleasure that strums along the electric current that connects you.  Din feverishly conducts the symphony of your body – grand upward motions of his fingers in your cunt send waves of bliss that crescendo through your core; the sweeping of his lips against yours keeps you in tempo with his own urgency; his rolling downward gestures on your clit coils the band below your belly tighter and tighter.

No one can play you like Din can – beneath the beskar armour he’s a master musician, lover.  Like the weapons he so deftly wields and handles, your body is an instrument he knows intimately – every shift, slight change or tensing is noted and adjusted for so he can optimize performance, maximize your pleasure.  Din knows you’re going to come before you do by the key in which your breath hitches, the cadence of your fluttering walls.

“Come for me, Princess,” he growls, biting down on your plush bottom lip.  Now it’s your turn to obey – you come with an arch of your back and a chorus sung to your General’s name, Din, Din, Din, Din.

Here you can be as loud for as long as you want and Din can fuck you through your high for as long as you need, withdrawing his fingers and licking them clean only when your cunt is complacent enough to release him, “Always taste so sweet, cyar’ika.”  You sigh at the filthy sounds of another forbidden sight you long, lust for.

Lips finding his again, you taste yourself on Din’s tongue and tease, “I thought we were eating after.”

This time it’s Din’s turn to act coy, repeating your question from earlier with a knowing smirk against your pout, “After what?”

In response, you reach between your bodies and even without the benefit of sight, easily find Din’s hard, throbbing cock.  Stroking his length with your delicate hands, you lift to line him up with your entrance and wordlessly sink down, “After you come, General.”

“As you wish, Princess,” Din groans at the way your pussy hugs him.  When you feel him shift beneath you to plant his feet on the bottom of the tub, you stop Din with a hand on his wide chest and shake your head, “You’re tired and your body needs rest, my love.  Let me do the work.”

Big, loving hands come up to cradle your head and a playful but reverent tone accompanies Din’s protest, “A General’s duty is to serve his Princess.”  You tilt into his paw and nuzzle; your Mandalorian’s affectionate touch and the feeling of fullness combine in making you compliant.  Leaning in close you ghost over Din’s lips, “Together then.”

Half awestruck, half groaning in agreement, Din slides his hands back down your soft body to come to a rest on your waist, holding you gentle and secure, “Together.”

It’s easy to find the perfect rhythm, your bodies already so in tune with one another.  Din’s slow upward thrusts meet your lighter bounces halfway, causing the water of your bath to ripple and splash against the sides of the tub.  It’s tender and patient until it isn’t – with no communication other than your soft whinnying and Din’s grunts and heavy breathing, your tempo and intensity remain matched, building together. 

Always together.  How you love being together with your Mandalorian.  How you love him.

You press yourself to Din, the rise and fall of his chest grounding you as your hips work in tandem with his.  Arms snaking around his neck, you cling to the General as your joint movements become more fervent and passionate, the water now choppy from your lovemaking.

Together.  Everything is better when you’re together.  You were able to get through today, together.

Love, relief and gratitude flood your pleasure wracked body as you crawl up Din’s broad mountain frame to find his lips.  Latching your mouth to your Mandalorian’s, you kiss him heady and desperate.  Every press of your plush and swollen pout thankful for his survival, of today’s fight and of all the fights that came before today so that he could come into your life.  A thank you to maybe that same mystical force that gives Grogu his unexplainable powers, for making the man that fills you so full at the moment the warrior, the father, the man is.  Thankful that he loves you.  For all of him.

Din meets every brush of your lips with the same devotion, somehow able to read the emotion behind your eyes without seeing them - the same way you’re able to read him even when he’s hidden behind his helmet.  He himself grateful for bringing his son and your countrymen back to you safe, for being the one to give you what you needed for the success of your mission.  A thank you to that same power than runs in his son’s veins and makes him a warrior far stronger than Din could ever be, for bringing him to you.  Grateful that a woman as regal, compassionate, and kind as you saw past his hard armoured exterior to the man beneath and holds him in your esteem.  And in your heart.

“Ni kar'tayl darasuum gar,” Din growls with a deep rumble of his chest that echoes off the walls.  I love you.

“Ni kar'tayl darasuum gar,” you cry back in the perfect pronunciation that Din taught you.  I love you.

Neither of you able to hold back your love for one another nor the crest of your bodies any longer – coming together, lyrical song sung loud and shameless.  The Princess and the General have nothing to hide here, tonight.

Later, after you’ve each eaten and drank your fill of Flavian fruits and wine, and you’ve massaged and kneaded Din’s sore muscles until you’re satisfied with the way his aches have melted away, Din guides you, still blindfolded, out of the cooled bath to the bed.

With Din protectively hovering over your naked body ready to take you again, you realize that as thankful as you’ve been feeling, you haven’t actually acknowledged those sentiments out loud to the man to whom you owe everything, “Thank you, Din.  Thank you for being the might of the realm.”

Though he knows you cannot see them, Din’s eyes fill with a love he hopes he can properly convey in other ways, “No need to thank me, cyar’ika, it will always be my honour to fight for you.  You must know - you are the might of the realm.  The realm prospers and remains strong because its Princess is brave, smart, good.  You’re everything, mesh’la.  You’re my might – I can only do the things I can because I do them for you.  I would do anything for you.”

You feel the scarf you wear across your eyes dampen as it absorbs your tears, “I know, Din.”  Happy, content, you welcome your General between your legs once more; and with the rare luxury of time and freedom that the two of you have been gifted tonight, you know it won’t be the last time.

[thetruthwilloutsworld]

EXCLUSIVE: Outlander star Sam Heughan will star as the murderous tyrant in Macbeth, marking his debut with the Royal Shakespeare Company, and he tells Deadline that returning to the stage for the first time in 12 years "is the drug I'm looking for."

The actor, who has cropped his locks for the role, says it's "exciting" to be treading the boards again now that filming is compete on the eighth and final season of the time-traveling drama Outlander, in which he plays the the dashingly charming Jamie Fraser who finds true love with Claire, played by Caitríona Balfe.

During our conversation, Heughan suggested that Starz will show season 8 of Outlander "towards next year." The prequel series Outlander: Blood of My Blood premieres on August 8, "so I feel it'd probably be out next year," he reveals.

Macbeth, to be directed by Daniel Raggett, will begin performances at RCS' The Other Place studio venue in Stratford-upon-Avon on October 9, running through December 6.

Lia Williams, the distinguished, classically trained thespian, will play Lady Macbeth. She's also a prominent presence on TV, having appeared as Wallis Simpson in The Crown and as Isabel Kirby, the duplicitous MI6 British intelligence service deputy chief of staff in Peacock's hit The Day of the Jackal.

"I was looking for something that would really excite me. I've been doing Outlander for 11 years, and obviously it was brilliant, but I wanted something else,” says Heughan. "And I went to the RSC to see Edward II there, and I just felt that buzz. I sat in the auditorium and I felt that excitement, sort of the churn in my stomach as the lights went down and I was like, 'Yeah, this is the drug I'm looking for.' And it's terrifying. And I think that's a good thing to be scared again."

The last time Heughan was on stage was in Batman Live, where he played the Caped Crusader in uncomfortably snug tights.

He says the show "was not quite Shakespeare or the RSC, but it was an international tour going all around from the whole of UK and Europe to the U.S. We did Las Vegas, we played in Bueno Aires and the O2 in London hanging upside down, wearing PVC."

Merrily, he quips: "I dunno, maybe there'll be a bit of that in Macbeth as well. You never know."

Completing work on the Outlander series presented the perfect opportunity for the actor to return to his stage roots.

"I think that's it," he agrees.

The actor trained at the Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama, now called the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland. "I did a classical theater training, and I built my career on theater. That's what I did way before I got any sort of TV jobs and trying to support myself in Scottish theater and then in London as well.

And it's obviously a dream. I remember just going full circle like, going back to the very first show I ever did in youth theater. I was an extra on the main stage of the Royal Lyceum theatre in Edinburgh in a production of Macbeth. And for me it's The Scottish Play [for superstitious reasons, thespians often refer to Macbeth by that title] obviously, but it's a play that's super-exciting. It's one of his shortest. It's bloody. It's got some incredible writing and some really fascinating character at the center of it. And I just remember being in the library as a drama student, reading books about various famous actors playing that role."

Heughan remembers seeing Adrian Noble's RSC production of the play touring Scotland with Derek Jacobi in the title role "and just being in awe of them and dreaming that one day I'd be there."

The closest he got was playing the roles of Malcolm, a soldier and a "murderer" as the program note lists it, opposite Liam Brennan as the Thane who would be king, in a production that played the Royal Lyceum and Nottingham Playhouse in 2008, directed by Lucy Pitman-Wallace.

As a student, he watched the video version of Patrick Stewart essaying the once loyal and valiant general-turned-treasonous killer of a king in director Rupert Goold's celebrated production that played the West End and Broadway.

Importantly, he watched the thrilling filmed adaptation of Macbeth starring Ian McKellen and Judi Dench. In 1976, Trevor Nunn had directed the play for the RSC at The Other Place, and it's now regarded as one of the greatest productions of The Scottish Play ever staged.

"The last people to do [Macbeth] in that theatre wwere Ian McKellen and Judi Dench," Heughan observes, "so we're very lucky."

There will be ghosts in that house, I suggest.

Heughan laughs but says in all seriousness: "There will be, and I hope we can draw upon their talent and their expertise."

The tragedy of Macbeth is that, upon hearing the three witches' prophecy that he would become King of Scotland, he becomes tyrannical and, with his wife's help, he murders the monarch who stands in his way. But is his missus to blame, or, I ask Heughan, am I being kind to Macbeth?

"What's so great about Shakespeare," he says brightly, "is that it can be read in many different ways and portrayed in different ways.

And you could say, 'Well, it's always been in him and he's an evil man and he wanted to do this.'

Or you could say that he is on this path that he's been set on by some supernatural powers or it's his ambition. Or in my case, I think perhaps it might be more that he loves someone so much and he wants to fulfill her ambition as well. But it's about making one decision and then the consequences of that, and he just can't get out of it and takes it way too far. But yeah, I mean, obviously he starts down this slippery slope and can't stop it and goes really far with it, but it's super-fascinating. I mean, we haven't started rehearsals yet, but we'll be looking at what is it that drives him and all of the superstition around it as well."

In terms of wrongheaded, misguided polices, I mention, mischievously, if the White House might be a suitable location for the play to be set.

"Yeah, again, I think it's the beauty of Shakespeare is you can always draw parallels, and that's why it's still so popular now. You can look at any country or anything that's going on anywhere and see that in the wrong hands, power corrupts. I mean, he really does shut everyone down and start to destroy anyone that can pose a threat to him. So yeah, I won't be playing it with a ginger wig or in a suit."

Or an overlong blue tie, I add wickedly.

"Well, you never know. Maybe I will," he responds wryly.

Actually, Heughan and Williams have had discussions with director Raggett about where to set it.

"We've been talking about lots of different ways of portraying it and whether that's, I feel, been done before. But you could set it the conflict in Ukraine or on the Russian border or whatever, or you could set it, as you suggested, in America right now. It could be kind of set anywhere. So we haven't fully decided, but I think we know which direction we're going."

We chatted during a break from a table read of the text. Just before our meeting in London, he got stopped by three Spanish tourists "and they were excited. I'm surprised they recognized me," he says, laughing, "because I've shaved my head for the role."

Explaining his rationale for the new look, Heughan says, "It's also about a new skin and a new me and new beginnings and shedding a bit of Jamie Fraser, though he was a wig as well. But I think it's an interesting look. Certainly I'm getting used to it."

When he saw Raggett's production of Edward II starring Daniel Evans, who's also the RSC's co-artistic director with Tamara Harvey, he says that he felt "that excitement and that fear that got me into theater and made me an actor in the first place. And I think that's what I want to do with this play. I want people to come to see Macbeth and be properly scared."

Working on Outlander for 11years, he says, "dominated" his life. "It becomes your life a hundred percent. And in some ways that's fantastic, and I've been very lucky. I've obviously been able to do some movies and TV shows and things, but it does define you and it also dictates where you live and what time you have and where you are in the world physically and where your energy goes. So this is really cool. It's a chance for me to sort of, I don't know, find out who I am again or where I was and see what the next step is. And it feels like home already going into Stratford-upon-Avon. ... It feels familiar and walking onto the stage and soaking that up. So it's a part of myself that I've perhaps had forgotten about."

Also, he adds that he feels proud as a native of Scotland to be playing a role that's associated with the country of his birth.

He's thrilled that the cast is "predominantly all Scottish actors." There's a great pool of talent in Scotland, he boasts, "and a great vibrancy and energy," adding, "I'm so excited to have this little bit of Scotland in Stratford-upon-Avon flying our flag."

Heughan also has announcements planned for his Sassenach Spirits brand. Perhaps he'll gift wrap a few bottles as first-night gifts for his cast mates.

There's also sadness with moving on from Outlander. He had lunch with Balfe last week. "It was so lovely to see her. She's obviously in London as well, and so we're all very, very close still and we're always sending each other messages and stuff. So that's, I guess, one of the great parts of our show. We really have this lovely friendship now, and I'm sure that we'll follow each other in subsequent years."

And he misses the crew too. "They're not just crew, they're family, they're friends now."

There's talk, he notes, of them doing Comic-Con "to sort of celebrate the prequel show."

And he's not ruling out the possibility of an Outlander one-off TV special in the future.

"Who knows?" he chuckles. "Who knows? I know they did that with Downton Abbey and others. So you never know. Maybe the ginger wig is still around somewhere."

Article 2 June 2025

[juiceboxscans]

IT'S ALL HAPPENING KYODAI!

*Kyoudai is Japanese for 'siblings' and how group members are sometimes referred to-- your brothers (and sisters).

This is going to be a long one. Settle in.

ICYMI: The anime is coming!

First episode premiered last weekend at Anime NYC and the trailer was released about 2 weeks ago. Preliminary buzz seems to be positive. No specific date yet but we know it's coming out October 2024 and Crunchyroll will be simulcasting.

A dub has not been announced but never say never.

On Twitter follow the official account raisetanin_pr and Crunchyroll for anime news.

From those initial sketches to the anime announcement, it's been a long 7 (8? 9?) years, hasn't it? Check out this art glow up:

The anime looks a little different and apparently that's intentional.

Here's Shouma as an example from one of our fave fandom accounts.

The licensed English translation of Volume 8 will be released on September 3. Check our resources post for vendors and if you don't see your country/retailer absolutely comment or reblog with info to help your fellow fans.

The mangaka is still on hiatus and no word on when they plan to resume. But also no word on how many episodes are expected which could mean that viewership numbers and an uptick in sales of the physicals/digital versions could get us a full season and/or more chapters.

Support support support!

(Pro tip: Physicals are cheaper in the long run. Crunchyroll is selling physicals for $12USD down from $15USD.)

And if you have Raise merch, and a Twitter account, consider posting pix of your pretties and tagging with the name of the animanga to show your support as well. Post on Tumblr too! The more the engagement the better the chances this will continue.

Note: Spelling matters here.

In Japanese, the title is 来世は他人がいい which is romanized to raise ha tanin ga ii or in title case Raise Wa Tanin Ga Ii*.

The bit at the end いい (spelled 'ii' or in sentence case 'Ii' is pronounced 'ee') means 'good' or 'nice' or 'better' so when you tag it's more いい to use a capital eye and a lowercase eye instead of 'Li' or 'li'.

Raise wa Tanin ga Ii <-- like so In a serif font its easier to tell when I type an 'I' and an 'l'.

Most social media platforms use Arial or Colibri so the capital 'i' looks like an 'l') so when tagging keep in mind that the 'Ii' at the end of the romanized Japanese title (Raise Wa Tanin Ga Ii) is actually capital 'I' (as in 'I am a fan') and a lowercase 'i'.

*People used to use わ (wa) as a particle but it was decided that は (ha) had a cleaner look to it in written Japanese however people still pronounce it 'wa' because change is harrrrrd. So the title has 'ha' in it but it's read and written 'wa'.

Hope you had a great summer and you're as excited as we are to experience our fave in a new way!

☆*:.｡.o(≧▽≦)o.｡.:*☆

[rosewaterandivy]

II. you’d have managed better if you had it planned - canticle

summary: do you think you're what they say you are?

pairing: e.m./f!reader

w.c.: 4.8K

a/n: somethingsomething blood of Christ somethingsomething reader beware.

For anyone outside the purview of the theatre world, there’s always a disconnect between a production getting greenlit and its premier. A lack of object permanence, if you must, regarding the time and effort it takes to get a show off the ground.

Especially if the director is what we could lovingly refer to as batshit. As in, ‘oh, I’ll double-cast Jesus and Judas, no fuckin’ problem!’ Had you known that’s what you were getting into, you’d have run for the hills. Or Bedford, at least.

Alas, alack, and curse your lack of foresight because now you’ve wound up with not only a co-star that loathes your everloving guts, but also sitting in a closed rehearsal with an intimacy coordinator (no shade, it’s an important job) for the infamous kiss scene.

Naturally, you’d arrived early and greeted Robin and her AD, along with the intimacy coordinator, Chrissy. She was a sprightly, slight thing— all smiles and buoyant energy, almost more suited to a chorus line than behind-the-scenes work.

Waiting for Munson’s arrival, you worked through some vocal warm-ups and a few stretches on the apron of the stage. Not that the blocking itself was acrobatic by any means— emotionally draining, sure; the scene you dreaded the most? Undoubtedly.

Another five minutes go by, prompting Chrissy to pass out a questionnaire for you to fill out.

“Just a general survey of your comfort level, one being the least and five being the most.”

Using the scale outlined above, please assess the following scenarios.

My scene partner touching my face

My scene partner touching my waist/torso/small of back

Stage kissing

Kissing on the mouth

Kissing with tongue

It was the fifth scenario that gave you pause. The other four were pretty standard fare and prior to the advent of intimacy coordinators, these were things choreographed by the director who hopefully kept their actors’ comfort in mind.

Occasionally, things happened or actors took liberties and blamed “the heat of the moment,” which was all bullshit and frankly disrespectful. Unfortunately, early in your career, you’d had a fair few situations in which the male lead read more into a situation than was warranted. But in the past couple of years, less and less of these instances occurred, at least in your experience.

The slam of the stage door and jangling of chains heralded his arrival. Drawing in a sigh, you continued completing the survey and tried to pay no mind to the dull murmurs of greeting as Eddie was briefed on the rehearsal plan.

Over the past several weeks, the pair of you found that the less you spoke to the other, the better the equilibrium for the cast. Neither of you set out to rock the boat and become one of those infamous feuds Ryan Murphy had grown so fond of— avoiding an FX mini-series was in the best-case scenario for everyone involved.

Though, the addition of Steve Harrington made things a little more complicated. Being friends with both Eddie and yourself, he skirted the line between outright favoritism and well, remaining his congenial self.

Besides, he only had to show up for a few rehearsals a week whereas you and Munson were here every blasted night. Because it’s not enough to memorize one set of lines and music; since it’s double-cast between you and Munson, you’re both at the theatre day in and day out alternating between playing either Jesus or Judas and with all the blocking that may entail.

If Robin wasn’t so fucking endearing and her vision for the show wasn’t so goddamn incredible, you wouldn’t be cursing your alarm every morning and schlepping it to work come rain or shine.

He’s sitting as far as he possibly can from you on stage, one leg hanging over the apron with his foot thunking against the boards every so often. Like you, he’s filling out the survey but doing so interspersed with loud scoffs.

“Why is five even an option?” he asks it rhetorically with a shake of his head.

“Sorry Eddie, what was that?” Robin asks from mid-house where she’s seated beside Chrissy and her AD.

He looks up and pauses to clear his throat. “Five, on the form, why is it there? This isn’t like, romantic, right?”

Maybe it was the delayed train to get here. Maybe it was the lukewarm tea. Maybe it was absolutely nothing at all that forced you into exclaiming, “Oh my god, read a fucking book for once in your life.”

“... Excuse me?”

“Yeah, that’s right. Excuse you, Munson,” you continue undaunted and amble up from your seat. “Are you taking this seriously, like, at all? Aside from vocal training and memorizing lines, have you done any work to prepare for the, not one, but two roles you’ll play?”

Your voice echoes throughout the theatre before it fades into the silence. Robin is staring and having trouble picking her jaw up from the floor. The AD just looks uncomfortable, which, hey, join the club; while Chrissy looks on in interest, her head cocked to the side.

“What kind of question is that?”

Scoffing, you step from the stage and walk your survey back to Chrissy.

“A legitimate one,” you supply, crossing your arms as you slump into a seat near the aisle. “The people you’re working with? They’re professionals and they’re counting on you, on us, to do this thing right. So the least you can do is prepare accordingly.”

“Uh huh.” He stands, hopping off the stage to meet Chrissy mid-way down the aisle. With a turn, he studies you momentarily before gathering his hair in one hand to tie it back. “You mentioned books, which I read, for the record.” The band snaps as he draws his hand away, a few errant locks falling to frame his face. “Any suggestions, oh most esteemed colleague of mine?”

You blow a raspberry as you stand, “Yeah, the Bible for one.”

Chrissy, taking in the scene, jots a few notes down for further consideration— how stiff you both are when in each other’s presence, all bravado and grandstanding. And it’s just as Robin said, it isn’t the lack of chemistry that’s the problem.

Robin nudges her with an elbow as the two of you continue bickering. “Think it’s salvageable?”

Chrissy smirks, “I’ve dealt with worse.”

You’re too far down house for them to pick up on the conversation anymore. But Robin’s sure it’s more of the same; you and Eddie were cut from the same cloth, whether you wanted to admit it or not— your bark, his bite, it all came out in the wash regardless. Now her main issue and current bane of her existence were one and the same— getting her two leads to stop being petty idiots.

“Okay,” Robin sighs, “Let’s get this show on the road!”

Chrissy sits with you on the sofa in your dressing room, legs criss-cross applesauce as her hand flits from the throw pillows to caress the weave of the fabric beneath her. It’s probably your favorite piece of furniture in here, teal velvet and good bones.

“Thanks for meeting with me,” she begins with a soft smile. “My role here is to support and advocate for you as well as the other actors while liaising with the production board. Your comfort and consent is paramount to me. So,” she says, readying her notepad and pen. “Is there anything I should be aware of regarding any past traumas or experiences, personal or professional?”

Oh.

You cough into your fist, suddenly uncomfortable despite the plush furnishings around you. Your fingers pluck at a tassel decorating the pillow in your lap.

“Take your time.”

And that’s the thing, you could take hours of her time reciting each and every instance you were made uncomfortable by a colleague or regular Joe on the street. How many men had ground themselves against your hips in order to “sell the scene.” How producers had certain expectations of fresh-faced ingenues. Or how coercion really did a number on one’s ability to self-regulate.

So, you do. You take your time and deep breaths when needed as you recount this litany of shame. She listens with a sympathetic ear, a comforting smile on her face, at one point, she reaches out to hold your hand, offering a squeeze of support.

“Thank you for sharing that with me. I want you to know that I’ll do everything in my power to offer you a safe workplace.” Her hand drifts from yours, “Now, talk to me about your scene partner. How do you feel about Eddie?”

With great effort, you bite back the snort that threatens to escape. “Uh, ambivalent, I guess? I don’t really know him.”

“How did your first meeting go?”

“Awful,” you reply, maybe too quickly based on Chrissy’s quirked brow. “I mean, this was a favor to Steve— we’re close friends, and he’s close with Robin. I was just trying to help out.”

“And?”

“And what? We’re here now, aren’t we? Things didn’t exactly go to plan.”

Chrissy jots a few notes down, allowing you to collect your thoughts.

“He’s just so disrespectful. Like, filling out those forms today? There’s obviously a reason for it, and for him to just, brush it off like that is the height of hubris.”

“You called him unprofessional.” Chrissy says this as a matter of fact, not open to interpretation. “In not so many words, you accused him of not taking this seriously and not preparing to the standards you are accustomed to.”

“But I didn’t— It’s just…” You trail off with a sigh. “He’s a musician, not an actor.”

“Exactly.” She nods, pleased with your progress. “You both come from different backgrounds and have different skills, so isn’t it worth considering that he may bring things to the table that you don’t and vice versa?”

“I mean, I guess that’s plausible.”

“Good. So aside from his disrespect, which I think could helpfully be rephrased as him learning on the job, what else comes to mind when you think about Eddie?”

It’s at that moment that you draw a blank. Not a true blank, mind you, just a blip on the screen in your mind that replays the dumbest things at the most inopportune of times. Take, for instance, the day you had the displeasure to meet one Eddie Munson.

The heat of the bricks radiating against your back as he looms over you. Breath fanning out against your face bringing the soft bloom of mint with it. His body hovering just out of reach, tantalizing and taunting. His scent, ineffable and enough to drive you crazy.

What you settle on, is this:

“He smells nice.”

Eddie is about to chuck his phone clear across the room.

Who would’ve thought there were so many editions of the fucking Bible?!

He’s contemplating whether it’s worth a trip to the Apple Store in Grand Central as someone knocks at his dressing room door.

“Yeah?”

“Hi, Eddie,” Chrissy greets with an ever-present grin. “Mind if we chat for a few minutes?”

“Oh, sure,” he says, sliding his feet down from where they’d been perched on the counter. “No problem.”

“So, how are things?” she asks, settling onto a nearby chair.

“Uh, fine, I guess.”

“Glad to hear it!”

From there, Chrissy explains her job in the production and what that all entails— creating a consensual working environment for the cast and crew, while communicating with the production board and relaying various needs. She then asks if he has any concerns that she should be aware of.

“No, not really.”

“No past experiences or traumas that may make you uncomfortable in the role?”

“Well, despite what you may have heard, I’m not the anti-Christ so it should be fine.”

She laughs lightly, “Okay, good to know. Would you mind talking to me about your scene partner and how you get along with them?”

And them’s the brakes.

Eddie can’t think of a time in your short acquaintance in which you weren’t at each other’s throats. From the first disastrous meeting to the unfortunate outburst today, it has been nothing but vitriol from either of you. Which was kind of exhausting, truth be told. On top of all the blocking, cues, lines and lyrics to memorize (times two)--- it was all he could do to wake up in the morning, drink his herbal tea, and show up in a somewhat decent mood.

“It’s alright.”

“Didn’t seem that way earlier today.” Chrissy points out, studying him in that way he hates. As if she stares long enough, cocks her head just so, that he’d spew all the shit she’s dying to know.

This is not his first rodeo, and the media training is second-nature by now anyway.

“She’s just wound up.”

“Hmm,” Chrissy hums, taking down a note. “It’s interesting that you’re first instinct is to defend her.”

“That’s what you get from— No, absolutely not! I’m just saying—”

“Eddie, take a breath. I’m not accusing you of anything.” She waits until he actually takes a breath before continuing. “This is just a standard procedure here. I need to get to know the both of you to do my job correctly, okay?”

“Yeah, fine.”

His leg starts to bounce, there’s no way she doesn’t clock that.

“Why’re you nervous?”

“I’m not.” He sighs, leaning forward and interlacing his fingers at the nape of his neck. “This whole thing is just…”

“Uncomfortable?”

He nods.

“I get that. We can start with something easier. What drew you to this show?”

“I was doing a friend a favor.”

“Seems like a pretty big favor, must be a good friend.”

“Yeah,” he allows, “We grew up together and he knew this was—” He stops short.

“Was what?”

“Uh,” Eddie swallows, the melancholy creeping up his throat has him wanting to spill his guts and he knows that’s not an ideal place to be. “Nothing, it was just something my mom liked.”

“Oh, that’s nice. Is she happy you’re doing this?”

“Well, she’s dead so I wouldn’t really know, now would I?”

“Ah,” Chrissy allows after a moment of silence. “I’m sorry for your loss, losing a parent is—”

“It happened years ago, I’m fine. It’s fine.”

She nods, swiftly moving on. “How’s the cast treating you?”

“Good, they’re very welcoming. And the crew guys are solid.”

He can tell their time is coming to an end, and there’s that sole remaining stone that’s gone unturned. Eddie finds himself both dreading and hastening the conversation’s end.

“What were you doing when I first knocked? You looked pretty peeved.” She rises from the chair and tucks the pen behind her ear.

“Nothing really.” Eddie sighs, standing up to see her out. “Taking some advice, I guess.” He clicks the phone on and turns the screen toward her.

“Yeah,” she laughs, “There’s certainly a lot of them.”

“You’re tellin’ me.” He pockets his phone and leans against the door jamb. “I’m trying to find this one that’s black and gold, but it’s turning out to be impossible.”

Chrissy smiles like the cat who caught the canary.

“You could just ask her, you know.”

But before Eddie can ask her who she means, she’s turned on her heel and left.

It’s a few days later that you get to blocking the scene in question. Only after engaging in what Chrissy refers to as team-building exercises— trust falls, eye contact while complimenting the other person and being complimented, mirroring, and being threatened several times by Robin with the ‘get along’ shirt.

That last one earned a squawk from the rafters while Dustin rigged the lights.

And Robin, brilliant as she is, had only complicated matters all the more by having to run through everything at least twice due to the double-cast nature of your roles. As if summoning the frustration, anger, and anguish of Judas wasn’t enough, no, you were also required to evoke Christ’s dwindling patience and growing grief.

Super fun times all around.

It was another closed rehearsal, required actors only alongside the AD, Robin, and Chrissy. Per the intimacy survey, several options had been bandied about before ultimately settling on a kiss on the mouth, with hand placement being at the actor’s discretion.

“Anything I should know to do or not to do?”

“As long as you don’t spit in my mouth, we should be good.”

“What the— Why would I—” You turned to question further, only to be met with a knowing smirk. “You know what? Nevermind.”

And with that, Eddie’s run-through began. The “Last Supper” sequence proved to be fairly simple, just requiring a forceful exit from yours truly. Having nothing better to do backstage, you found yourself watching “Gathsemane.” You’d be hard-pressed to admit it, but it’s your favorite number of this production. “The Temple” coming in at a close second— really anything when Eddie had to do those tormented vocal runs.

Astonishing, truly.

Closing in on the last minute of the song, you readied yourself for Judas’ entrance. Deep breaths, get into the right headspace, don’t get distracted by Munson onstage—

Wait, what?

Kill me, take me now, before I change my mind

Oh, shit, your cue!

Fuckfuckfuckingfuck. You make the entrance, just barely, and continue the scene.

You’re standing and striding toward him, he’s on his knees and it’s all very, well, biblical. But technically this was the blocking that made the most practical sense since he’s so tall and gangly whereas you have the energy of 6’2” person in a much smaller package.

The guards trail in after you, continuing to move toward him for the arrest. But there’s something in his expression right now— so vulnerable and wold-weary— that it has you dropping to your knees.

There’s a sound of interest from Robin in the audience.

Judas, must you betray me with a kiss?

Your eyes scan his face, fingers tracing his jaw and bottom lip and you can’t ascertain as to why. Your opposite hand remains at his nape, fingers tangling in his hair. The intensity of his gaze is too much, too bright and illuminating. Sucking in an audible breath, your cast your eyes downward just as he draws your lips to his, and a singular tear falls down your cheek.

It’s not a kiss in the truest sense of the world. There is heat and pressure but nothing beyond that. Eddie pulls away from you, ending the kiss, only to draw you into his chest to rest his chin at the crown of your head. You can feel him breathing, slow and steady, while his hands cradle you. The shuddery gasp that escapes you can’t be helped. And just as your arms wrap around his back, you feel a parting brush of his lips to your hair as the centurion yanks you to your feet.

His eyes meet yours, warm amber flecks brighter against the burnished brown. And then you’re drawn away.

“Cut!” Robin yells out, “Oh my fucking god!”

Both you and Eddie jerk out of the scene, peering out into the theatre as she dashes down to the apron. To her credit, she only tripped once in her haste. She slams her script against the stage and attempts to lift herself up before the AD takes pity on her and boosts her up.

“You two!” She grins, charging toward you and Eddie and wrapping you up in her arms. “That was fucking brilliant! What the shit,” she rears back, assessing, “Did you two plan that?”

“Not exactly.”

“Jus’ kinda happened.”

“Fuck me!” she sighs, releasing you both. “I need to see it again, but I love it so far. Such a remix of the traditional interpretation, y’know? Christ initiating the kiss is like, oh god, my little gay brain needs it like an IV.”

She prattles on to the assembled crew about a few technical points in the scene, allowing you and Eddie to catch your breath before running it again.

Someone pulls you aside, just behind the curtain to the Stage Manager’s podium. Their thumb worries against your wrist, trailing delicately along the thin skin.

“You okay?”

Blinking, you peer up at them only to find Munson staring at you with a slight furrow in his brow. You pull back and he releases your wrist with no hesitation. Cradling it in your hand, you try to steady yourself with a few deep breaths.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m—”

“If I did anything wrong, I’m really so—”

“No!” The volume of your voice surprises you both. “I mean, no, you didn’t do anything wrong or to make me uncomfortable. I mean, did I?”

“No, you were—” He cards a hand through his hair, “You were great. And Rob seemed to like it so, are you cool with that?”

“Uh huh,” you nod, dropping your wrist as the AD beckons the two of you back on-stage. “Yeah, it’s all good.”

It’s only then it dawns on you, the coolness his lack of touch brings.

Eddie, for one, is relieved not to be doing the Christ bits the following evening.

It really runs him through the ringer, and when he finally gets home to collapse on his bed, he dreams of absolutely nothing at all.

It’s a catch-22 though because he really does prefer your Judas, if he’s being honest. Don’t get him wrong, he loves playing a “bad guy,” but you seem to have such a better beat on the character than him.

Not that he’d ever say that to your face.

The only note from the boss to consider when switching to his Judas and your Christ, was that she wanted it to be different from last night’s run. Robin was very clear that the motivations for each interpretation were distinct—

“It’s like, in that moment of betrayal, you already forgive him. Because you knew it had to happen this way, it was pre-ordained and despite the love there—”

“He only did what he had to.”

“Yes, exactly!”

Which, okay that was all fine and good. How Eddie wound up being the VBS, peace, love, and fairy dust Christ, he’ll never know. But that did leave a slight predicament for tonight’s rehearsal.

“It’s a disaster, right?”

Steve snuck up on him backstage during a tight five while Robin worked out a few kinks with the tech crew.

“Whaddya mean?”

“Y’know, last night went off like gangbusters and now you’re both gettin’ the yips.”

“Bite your tongue, no one’s gettin’ the fuckin’ yips.”

He holds up his hands in surrender, “Hey, I’m just trying to look out for you here.”

Eddie turns his attention back to the stage, gaze settling on where you’ve taken up residence bent over your script and making some notes.

“Some friendly advice,” Steve says, a hand kneading Eddie’s shoulder. “Go and talk to her, man. It’ll help, I promise.”

“Dustin, I will come up there and kill you myself!”

He skirts Robin in an attempt to avoid her notice and ire, sitting down next to you as you continue to scribble in the margins.

“Hey.”

“‘Sup.”

He covers your hand with his own, second-guessing himself until he feels you turn your palm upward and wind your fingers with his. Chrissy had suggested it as a trust exercise since neither one of you were particularly keen on opening up to talk about feelings. Just a little non-verbal check-in, four pulses of the hand to ask are you okay? Once for yes, twice for no, three times for maybe in response.

He squeezes your hand four times, his thumb meandering to the underside of your wrist as he awaits your reply.

Three pulses back.

“Can I help?”

Your eyes skim the page of your script as you shake your head no. You squeeze back to ask him the same.

One pulse back.

That gets your attention.

You drop the pencil back into your script and turn around to glance at him over your shoulder. Your hair is down tonight, a little lank and frizzy to complement the hollows under your eyes.

“How?”

Eddie sits up with a languid stretch. “Last night, you asked me to trust you.”

“I know.”

“And I do.”

“Oh.”

A smile pulls at his lips, “Is that so surprising?”

You shrug. “Kinda yeah.”

“And if I asked you to trust me?”

“Why, do you have a plan or something?”

He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, “Aside from following your lead? No, not really.”

Before you can respond, Robin calls the rehearsal to order.

Starting from the top means he has to open the show, which is fine because that means he gets to see your “Hosana” into Steve’s “Simon Zealotes” and rounding out with “Poor Jerusalem.” You’ve worked together before and it’s fun to see you both onstage again.

Christ, as you play him, is heartbroken and burnt-out. The smiles you offer are kind, but never quite meet your eyes. Benevolent toward the apostles and crowds, but the only person able to rile you is Judas. There’s a certain fire in your eye when you share a scene with Eddie, frustrated yes, but there’s something else lying just out of his reach.

The rest of the rehearsal rolls on as usual, and he finds himself a bit twitchy, unsettled in his skin. It’s all he can do to get through the “Last Supper” scene without blowing a gasket.

What the fuck is wrong with him?

He’d give anything for a cigarette, or a drink, anything to settle his nerves.

Fucking Steve and his fucking yips.

And by the time he’s leading the centurions onstage, he’s so wound up he can barely stand it.

There he is! They’re all asleep, the fools

Rising you cross downstage toward him, eyes peering up at him from beneath your lashes.

Judas, must you betray me with a kiss?

Eddie doesn’t know if it was how you said it, or the despair in your gaze, but something in him just snaps.

He comes at you with teeth and you meet him with ruddied mouth. Your upstage hand cradles the base of his skull with such tenderness even as his teeth nip and pull at your lips. He attempts to reel back and apologize, guilt and shame evident in his face, but finds he’s prevented by your steady hand.

It draws his forehead down to rest against yours, his eyes trailing the bead of blood cascading down your chin— ruby red and shocking against your skin. He’s compelled to swipe his thumb underneath it wiping it clean, only to close his lips around the digit in perverse communion. And he’s ripped from you all too soon, his feet a dead weight as you’re dragged away.

There’s a beat or two of silence onstage as the two of you stare at one another, the centurions a mirror, holding you each in a pantomimed crucifixion.

“Cut,” Robin says from the audience, her voice not carrying as it usually does throughout the space. “Cut!”

Released from that reverie, he strides toward you on careful feet.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that at all.”

You shake your head, ready to brush him off.

“No, seriously though. I don’t know what is—”

You grab his hand and squeeze once.

“Y-you’re sure?”

“Yes, don’t beat yourself up about it.” Your tongue darts out to worry against the split in your lip. “It’s clotting up nicely, I’d imagine.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, thumb caressing the scab at your bottom lip.

Robin approaches warily, “Hey, you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Y’sure?” Chrissy adds, studying your lip.

“Depends. How did it look?”

A smile splits across Robin’s face. “Honestly? It looks sick as hell, but we don’t need Munson biting your lips off every other week.”

“I can sing with a small enough blood pack in my mouth.”

“I–” Robin begins with a shake of her head, “I don’t wanna know how you figured that one out, buuuuuttt, I’m cool with it if you are.”

“Eddie?” Chrissy prompts, pen scribbling against her notebook. “How was that for you?”

His hand drops to his side, eyes narrowing as he takes in your demeanor. You seem relaxed, laughing and joking with the rest of the cast as you get drawn into a conversation with Steve and Tommy.

And did you goad him into that? Were you just acting cold and aloof all day to inspire that kind of reaction for the scene? If so, should he be mad about that?

“Uh, fine.” He turns back to them, knowing that by the gleam in Robin’s eyes the gears are already turning. “This fake blood…”

“Stage blood.”

“Right, yeah. How does it taste?”

“It’s not the greatest, but we can add stuff to make it more palatable.”

He watches as Steve pulls you into an easy hug, swaying you to a fro as he tucks your head under his chin and leans down to whisper something only the two of you can hear.

Satisfied with the run-through, Robin calls an end to rehearsal not long thereafter. And you must’ve slipped out before Eddie, because he didn’t find you backstage on his way to the dressing rooms.

Propped against his door in discreet wrapping, blink and you might miss it, is a package. Kicking the door closed behind him, he tears through the wrapping to find a book with a black cover and gilded writing— The Word on Fire Bible. He thumbs open the cover to find a singular notation in a small slanted script:

You’d see the truth, but you’d close your eyes

— your most esteemed colleague.

[hyzenthlayroseart]

I wanted to save these for when I was done with the whole project but I have a feeling the next few entries will take a long time to make since each era has so many movies (Renaissance Era, Experimental Era and the Modern Era) and I got impatient with myself so I'm posting what's done so far.

So I decided to do a project where I draw films from each Disney era together. For those who don't know about Disney's animation eras, here's a good guide: https://www.bfi.org.uk/features/many-merry-eras-disney

FINALLY GOT TO THE END! I won't be making more after this, this is the last one.

One things that was unique to this era was the COVID-19 pandemic, which resulted in films being delayed, wide releases being cancelled and sent straight to streaming, or releasing both in theaters and straight to streaming simultaneously.

A common theme in this era is that a lot of the films are sequels, and this includes the first film, the Wreck-it Ralph sequel Ralph Breaks the Internet. Two months before the first film's release, director Rich Moore stated that there were already ideas for a sequel, and in 2013 Moore revealed that he and Disney had ideas about a sequel that would bring the characters up to date and explore both online and console gaming. When the film's title was revealed in 2017 it was initially called Ralph Breaks the Internet: Wreck-It Ralph 2, but in 2018 the name was shortened to simply "Ralph Breaks the Internet". The story went through several revisions, one with the internet was essentially the antagonist of the film, being regarded as a threat to the arcade's way of life. Another version had Vanellope get sucked into the internet and become the leader of her own website, and another had Ralph become an internet sensation corrupted by fame and fortune. The film's final plot ended up being about Ralph and Vanellope traveling into the internet to get a replacement part for Vanellope's game to avoid the arcade game being disposed of. Like the first film, the sequel features a number of cameos of video game characters, however this one also features a number of cameos from Disney's own characters and characters from various properties Disney owns such as Star Wars, Marvel and the Muppets. A notable scene features Vanellope meeting all the Disney princesses together and bonding with them after she reveals she's a princess as well. The princess scene was the idea of screenwriter Pamela Ribbon when she was working on Moana while Disney was still pitching ideas for a Wreck-it Ralph sequel, leading her to realize that Vanellope fit the definition of a Disney princess much like the character of Moana did, and when work on Ralph Breaks the Internet officially began, she pitched the idea for the scene. The other inspiration for the scene came from a "Which Disney Princess Are You?" quiz from Buzzfeed. The film even got Mark Henn, the original supervising animator for Ariel, Belle, Jasmine, Mulan and Tiana as one of the animators who helped bring the princess characters into CGI animation. When the film premiered in 2018 it was a financial success and received mostly positive, however some have criticized the product placement in the film and meme references that would end up making the film feel dated.

The next film was another sequel, Frozen II, set three years after the original film and focusing on the film's characters venturing into an enchanted forest to discover the origin of Elsa's magic. In a 2014 interview with Disney CEO Bob Iger he revealed that the company wouldn't force the development of a sequel due to concerns it would be perceived as inferior to the original film. While working on the 2015 Frozen short film Frozen Fever, directors Chris Buck and Jennifer Lee realized how much they missed the characters, and in the same year a sequel was greenlit. The film team went on research trips to Norway, Finland and Iceland, and the filmmakers collaborated with Sámi experts on the depiction of the fictional indigenous group Northuldra,n advisory group which was the result of an agreement between the Walt Disney Company, the transnational Saami council and the Sámi parliaments of Norway, Finland and Sweden. After the film's first test screening, the story underwent significant revisions when it was discovered that while adults liked the film, children found it hard to follow. Due to the changes, the animators needed to create 61 new shots and redo another 35. When the film premiered in 2019 it became the second highest-grossing animated film and got mostly positive reviews, praising the film for its beautiful animation and themes of colonialism, however some were critical of the film's narrative, music they considered to be of lesser quality compared to the first film, with some stating they believed the narrative relied too much on mythology and backstories.

The next film was Raya and the Last Dragon, the first original film in the era about a Southeastern warrior princess named Raya who sets out to find the fabled last dragon to save her father and the fictional land of Kumandra after they've been turned to stone by evil spirts known as the Druun. The film was inspired by tradition Southeast Asian culture, and for research the film crew travelled to Laos, Vietnam, Cambodia, Thailand, Singapore, Malaysia, Indonesia, and the Philippines; they were inspired by the local sense of acceptance, unity, and trust, which they adopted as themes for the film. Each kingdom in the film's fictional land Kumandra was designed with unique climates and characteristics to reflect the diverse beliefs and culture of their people, and each each land and its people represent a mandala icon revolving around Kumandra, inspired by local religious teachings that everything is centered around a common belief system or cosmology. The kingdom of Tail was intended as the wild west of Kumandra, drawing elements from fantasy plateaus and sand waterfalls. Talon was inspired by Southeast Asian floating markets and night markets. Spine was inspired by bamboo and a focus on natural forms and textures. Fang was designed with brutalist and strong, rigid geometric elements to reflect its strong commitment to strict principles. The film was originally scheduled to be released on November 25th, 2020, but was postponed to March 12, 2021 due to the COVID-19 pandemic. When the film did release in 2021, it was released both in theaters and onto Disney Plus simultaneously. While it was unfortunately not a box office success due to obvious reasons (the pandemic), however in the first three days of it's release on Disney Plus it became the fourth most-watched film of the week, and when the Deadline Hollywood list of most-watched streaming titles of 2021 was released in 2022, the film was revealed to be the third most-streamed film of 2021 being Pixar's Luca and Disney's other film Moana. The film got postive reviews, with praise for the film's imagery and themes along with its beautiful animation and engaging storytelling, although some were critical of the film homogenizing various Southeast Asian cultures.

The next film was Encanto, another original film and a musical with original songs by Lin-Manuel Miranda, who previously wrote original songs for Moana. The film took place on Colombia and centered on an intergenerational family lead by a matriarch whose children and grandchildren all received magical gifts which they use to help their community, all except for the main character Mirabel, who never received a gift. Mirabel learns that the family is losing their magic, so she sets out to find out why and save her family. The film team went on a research trip to Colombia and met with architects, chefs and artisans to immerse themselves into the culture. They also visited big cities like Bogotá and Cartagena, and found inspirations in small towns such as Salento for its terrain and Barichara for its architecture. One of the film's directors Jared Bush stated that he noticed how every town they visited had its own very specific personality because of how the country's mountainous terrain divided and isolated them. In Barichara, the team befriended Espinosa Uribe, who showed them around and was later hired to consult them on the film's cultural and historical authenticity. She ended up being inspiration for several of Mirabel's physical traits including her curly black hair, glasses and gestures. Encanto was the first first Disney Animation film to have choreographers involved in the development process from start to finish after they learned that dance, music and rhythm are core elements of everyday life in Colombia. This was in contrast to previous Disney animation films in which the story is already in place by the time choreographers are hired to consult on specific scenes. The film was released in 2021 with a 30-day theatrical run before being released to Disney Plus due to the pandemic. The film was both a major critical and financial success, becoming a cultural phenomenon much like Frozen did in the previous era.

Their next film was Strange World, another original which was a sci-fi adventure film about a legendary family of explorers who must set aside their differences as they embark on a journey to a mysterious subterranean land inhabited by surreal lifeforms, in order to save the miracle plant Pando, which is their society's source of energy. The film takes heavy inspirations from pulp magazines as well as classic science-fiction works such as Journey to the Center of the Earth, Fantastic Voyage and King Kong. The film featured Disney animation's first openly gay character, which resulted in the film being pulled from theatrical release in some regions. When the film released in 2022, it was a box office bomb, but when released onto Disney Plus became the most watched movie on the platform for the last week of 2022 and the first two weeks of 2023. Reviews were mostly postive, praising the diversity and visuals of the film, although many found the story underwhelming.

The next film was Wish, released during Disney's 100th anniversary. The film was about 17-year-old girl named Asha, who makes a passionate plea to the stars in a moment of need. She meets a living, magic fallen star, and together they face the kingdom of Rosas's devious ruler, the sorcerer Magnifico. Development on the film began in 2018, but wasn't publicly disclosed until 2022. The film was originally intended to be traditionally animated but was later changed to be traditional animation blended with computer animation. Disney's own films Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs and Sleeping Beauty were inspirations for the design of the film's characters and settings, and the film's whole theme os wishes coming true was meant as a tribute to the studio's animation legacy, as wishes coming true was a common theme among their films. When the film premiered in 2023, it was a box office flop and received mixed reviews, with common criticisms being that the film relied too much on nostalgia and callbacks to previous Disney animation films while failing to have an identity of its own and the story and characters being wasted potential. The film's unique style of blending traditional and CGI animation was a specific source of mixed reactions, with some praising it and others saying it looks unfinished and wishing it had been traditionally animated instead.

The next film was Moana 2, which as you can tell from the title was the sequel to Moana. The film was originally developed as a miniseries on Disney Plus, but was later reworked into a film. The story's set three years after the first film and follows Moana reuniting with the demigod Maui and assembling a wayfinding crew to find the lost island of Motufetu, break its curse, and reconnect the people of the ocean. While the film was a musical like the original, Lin-Manuel Miranda didn't return to create the original songs due to him being too busy on other projects. When the film premiered in 2024, it was a box office success and became the second most profitable film of 2024. The film received mixed reviews, with the animation being praised, the music being praised by some and considered not as great as the first film's soundtrack by others. The film being reworked from a series into a film was cited as a reason for the film's criticisms such as pacing and underdeveloped characters.

Finally, the last film is Zootopia 2, the upcoming sequel to Zootopia. I considered ending this with Moana 2 since Zootopia 2 hasn't come out yet and therefore there's nothing for me to write about here, but I felt like including it anyway.

So yeah, at last this project is completed ❤️

[cottonraincoat]

a non-exhaustive chronology of Mozart, Salieri, et al. 1780-1786

while writing the first draft of the fic, I'd been working on a chronology of... basically both their entire lives, from 1750 when Salieri was born to 1825 when he died. I will most likely rework/expand on it during second draft, but I quite like this particular section (the handful of years that the fic is set in) as it is.

here's to hoping some of you might find this interesting or useful! I know I was constantly referring to this while writing.

-----

1780

[?] Salieri returns to Vienna after an extended Italian tour

31 Oct Aloysia Weber marries Joseph Lange, an actor & amateur painter

5 Nov Mozart leaves Salzburg (unknowingly for good)

1781

29 Jan Premiere of Idomeneo, an Italian-text opera seria, in Munich

16 Mar Mozart travels to Vienna accompanying Colloredo, tries to resign, is dismissed 3 months later via a kick in the arse. 

30 Apr Premiere of Salieri’s Der Rauchfangkehrer (the Chimney Sweep)

25 Jul Mozart (in a letter) complains of gossip about him and Costanze

29 Jul Mozart receives the libretto for Seraglio from Stephanie

15 Dec Mozart (in a letter) complains of Salieri being chosen as teacher for Princess of Würtenberg, and announces his intention to marry Constanze

[?] Da Ponte arrives in Vienna with a letter of introduction for Salieri.

1782

16 Jul Premiere of the singspiel Die Entfuhrung aus dem Serail, with German text by Gottlieb Stephanie, Cavalieri as Konstanze

4 Aug Mozart (26) married Constanze Weber (20)

[?] Aloysia moves to the Burgtheater. This employment lasted only eight months before it was dissolved over pay disputes etc. 

1783

[?] Da Ponte is employed as poet for the Burgtheater, and meets Mozart (at a party given by Mozart’s landlord)

22 Apr The Italian opera company reopens with Salieri’s La scuola de' gelosi and the new opera buffa troupe from Italy.

Jul-Nov Mozart and Constanze (finally) visit Salzburg. Their first son is born in June, and dies in August.

1784

Immanuel Kant publishes What is Enlightenment

29 Mar Nancy Storace (18) marries John Abraham Fisher (40), who is said to have abused her and is later ordered by Joseph II to leave Vienna.

26 Apr Premiere of Salieri’s Les Danaïdes in Paris

27 Apr La Folle Journée, ou Le Mariage de Figaro was first performed, three years after the play was accepted for production 

23 Aug Nannerl marries and moves to St. Gilgen

21 Sep Karl Thomas Mozart born

6 Dec Premiere of Salieri and Da Ponte’s Il ricco d’un giorno, a failure. 

14 Dec Mozart becomes a Freemason

1785

30 Jan Nancy Storace’s child is born (dies in July)

Feb-May Leopold visits Constanze and Mozart in Vienna and becomes a Freemason due to his son’s influence. 

(14 Feb Leopold arrives and dines at the Webers. “The meal was cooked to perfection,” he says in a letter)

1 June Nancy Storace’s voice fails at his brother’s Gli sposi malcontenti.

[?] Per la ricuperata salute di Ofelia by Salieri, Mozart, Cornetti, with text by Da Ponte

12 Oct Premiere of Salieri’s La grotta di Trofonio, with Storace as Ofelia

1786

7 Feb Der Schauspieldirektor (libretto by Stephanie) and Prima la musica e poi le parole (libretto by Casti) are performed at Joseph II’s banquet

28 Apr Figaro began first stage rehearsals. The Overture was probably not finished until the 29th

1 May Premiere of Le nozze di Figaro, Italian libretto by Da Ponte

17 Nov Premiere of Martín y Soler’s Una cosa rara, text by Da Ponte. It’s a massive success, to be given 78 times. 

Nov/Dec Premiere of Salieri’s Les Horaces in Paris, a comparative failure

[tokidokitokyo]

茨城県

Japanese Prefectures: Kantō - Ibaraki

都道府県 (とどうふけん) - Prefectures of Japan

Learning the kanji and a little bit about each of Japan’s 47 prefectures!

Kanji・漢字

茨　いばら、かや、くさぶき、シ、ジ　briar, thorn

城　しろ、き、ジョウ　castle

県　ケン　prefecture

関東　かんとう　Kanto, region consisting of Tokyo and surrounding prefectures

Prefectural Capital (県庁所在地) : Mito (水戸市)

Amidst sprawling fields of beautiful flowers, Ibaraki also hosts Tsukuba Science City, Japan's premier research center and the home of Japan's space agency and numerous museums. Ibaraki is known historically for being the home of the Mito branch of the Tokugawa clan during the Edo Period and has long been associated with notable events in Japanese history. The first Nuclear Energy Research Institute was founded here in 1956. You can see space exhibits, actual space craft, and simulations at Tsukuba Space Center.

Outside of the major cities there are many natural areas to explore in the Suigo-Tsukuba Quasi-national Park. Hitachi Seaside Park is famous in the spring for its carpets of blooming blue nemophila. Kairaku-en is one of the Three Great Gardens of Japan. Mt. Tsukuba is a famous night view spot with a view of the Kanto Plain, including Tokyo Tower and the Tokyo Sky Tree, with a ropeway for convenient access. Ibaraki is also a major producer of natto.

Recommended Tourist Spot・おすすめ観光スポット

Fukuroda Falls (Fukuroda no Taki) - 袋田の滝

Photo by Own work, CC BY 3.0, Link

One of the three most beautiful waterfalls in Japan, Fukuroda Falls is a 120-meter tall cascading waterfall in northwestern Ibaraki Prefecture in the remote hills of the town of Daigo. It is also on the registered list of the Top 100 Waterfalls of Japan (determined by the Ministry of Environment). These falls are also called the Yodo Falls (Yodo no Taki) because the water stream falls on four large rock faces. It is also said that the renowned monk Saigyo Hoshi greatly praised the falls by saying that you should view the different beauty of the falls in all four (yo) seasons.

They are particularly attractive in early November with the peak autumn foliage as well as peak water flow. There are several different views of the waterfall, and you cannot view it in its entirety all at the same time. Within the Fukuroda Waterfall complex there are neon tunnels and elevators to take you to different levels and viewing platforms. It is said that you will be successful in love if you find a heart in the waterfall. There are also numerous hot springs nearby.

Regional Cuisine - 郷土料理

Monkfish Hot Pot - あんこう鍋

Photo by yosshi / CC BY-SA 2.0

The monkfish (also referred to as angler fish, goosefish, depending on the source I found) is a prized delicacy of Ibaraki and is best eaten fresh. Because these fish are too soft and slimy to cut up on a chopping board, they are prepared using the traditional tsurushi-giri technique, which involves cutting up the fish while suspended from a hook. In Japan, almost all parts of the monkfish are eaten, including fins, skin, gills, liver, stomach, ovaries and flesh—referred to as the “seven tools of the monkfish” in Japanese. The steamed liver is called ankimo and is considered a delicacy that may be eaten alone, or added to the hotpot soup for extra flavor. Anko nabe (monkfish hot pot) is a seasonal favorite consisting of monkfish, vegetables, and flavored broth.

Ibaraki Dialect・Ibaraki-ben・茨城弁

りんごあっけ？　ringo akke?

Standard Japanese: りんごありますか？ (ringo arimasu ka?) English: Do you have any apples?

あしにあおなじみできちった　ashi ni aonajimi dekichitta

Standard Japanese: 足に青あざができちゃった (ashi ni aoaza ga dekichatta) English: I have a bruise on my leg

ごじゃっぺなやつだ　(gojyappe na yatsu da)

Standard Japanese: いい加減な人; やくにっ立たない人 (iikagen na hito; yaku ni tatanai hito) English: He's a good-for-nothing person

「行ってもいがっぺ？」　(itte mo igappe?) 「来たらいがっぺ」　(kitara igappe)

Standard Japanese: 「行ってもいいですか？」 「来てもいいです���」 ("itte mo ii desu ka?" "kite mo ii desu yo") English: "Is it alright if I come?" "Yes please come"

あれは犬だっぺ　(are wa inu dappe)

Standard Japanese: あれは犬です (are wa inu desu) English: That is a dog

いがい車だな　(igai kuruma da na)

Standard Japanese: 大きい車ですね (ookii kuruma desu ne) English: That's a big car, isn't it

杖がおっちょれる　(tsue ga occhoreru)

Standard Japanese: 杖が折れた (tsue ga oreta) English: The cane broke in half

カラスををおっとばす　(hato o ottobasu)

Standard Japanese: カラスを追い払う (hato o oiharau) English: Drive away the crows

その日、大事？　(sono hi, daiji?)

Standard Japanese: その日、大丈夫？ (sono hi, daijyoubu?) English: Is that day ok for you?

[taraross-1787]

This Day in History: Happy Birthday, U.S. Air Force!

On this day in 1947, the United States Air Force is established. Did you know that the aviation arm of our military was part of the Army during World Wars I and II?  It did not become a separate and independent branch of the military until 1947.

The Army obtained its first airplane—a Wright Flyer—in 1909. That aircraft was called, quite simply, “Army Aeroplane No. 1” or “Signal Corps No. 1.”

“There is much work ahead if the military authorities carry out their present program with reference to aeronautics,” newspapers soon reported. “The instruction of the two premier army aeronauts—Lieutenant Lahm and Lieutenant Humphries—by Wilbur Wright was but a beginning. These two officers in turn are to teach their brother officers of the [Army] Signal Corps how to manage aeroplanes aloft.”

FULL STORY: https://www.taraross.com/post/tdih-us-air-force

[snowlessknitter]

The Masked Singer: S12 E1 (Season Premiere)

Despite a hurricane getting ready to hit North Florida tomorrow (and us here in Central Florida getting effects from the feeder bands, primarily rain, wind gusts, and a heightened risk for severe weather), I’m back with my running commentary as I try to guess which celebrities are underneath the masks this season.

I have not watched a single sneak peek performance in the lead up to this season, and for the first time in a while, I’ll be going into this season pretty much blind.

As always, I am writing these as I watch the episodes and I always post before seeing any unmasking, so don’t take my guesses as spoilers. I am watching on a delay via TiVo, and have done everything to avoid spoilers online.

Let the season begin!

Buffalo 🦬: Not super-tall, they’re about the same height as Nick Cannon. Buffalo’s celebrity connection (“Masked Ambassador”) is Nick Lachey (Piglet 🐷). I see a picture of a football player kneeling or “Tebowing”, so maybe it’s Tim Tebow or someone who knows him? We see pictures of Betty White and Vanna White. He was in two major sitcoms. Wait…there’s two of them! No, three! It’s a herd of Buffalo! Now I think I have an idea who these Buffalo might be! The voices are kind of leading me in the direction of none other than Boyz II Men. The “Ambassador’s Gift” clue is: A crown. Some musical “Kings”, perhaps? Their current lineup has three members, and the kneeling football player could be a reference to their song “On Bended Knee”.

Woodpecker 🐦: Woodpecker’s Masked Ambassador is Jenifer Lewis (“Cleocatra” 🐱). She’s a “mogul”, a “chic CEO”, and friends with Beyoncé. A board reading “Family” and an SAT test sheet. The “Ambassador’s Gift” clue is: A framed picture of a “World Record”. I wasn’t picking up anything with the voice or the clues, so I’m going to consider this one “stumped” for now.

Leaf Sheep 🍃 🐑: Well, this costume is being rolled in on wheels. My first instinct is that it’s a Muppet. Their Masked Ambassador is DeMarcus Ware (“Koala” 🐨). Cowboy seahorse, a quarter, and a guitar pick labeled “#1”. So, I’m gathering this is an NFL quarterback who was a #1 draft pick who played for the Dallas Cowboys. It’s not Terry Bradshaw, he’s already been on the show (and he played for the Steelers). I’m gonna guess it’s either Tony Romo or Troy Aikman. He’ll probably be the first celebrity eliminated, but darn it, we like a trier! His “Ambassador’s Pick” clue is a trophy marked “Hall of Fame”. I’m going with Troy Aikman because he was a Hall of Fame QB who played for the Dallas Cowboys. I can’t remember if he was a #1 draft pick.

Showbird 🦤: It’s a flashy dodo! Their Masked Ambassador is Joel McHale (not an official contestant, but a regular guest judge). Says she was a tomboy and a nerd. A judge’s gavel, so she might have been a judge on a singing competition? I’m not immediately picking up on her voice. Their “Ambassador’s Gift” clue is a bucket of popcorn. I’m also “stumped”. But I think she’s sticking around this week.

Ship ⛵️: Their Masked Ambassador is Jewel (“Queen of Hearts” 👸 ❤️). A clock in the shape of a plane. A “Wanted” sign, and their career started quickly. So I’m guessing somebody who came up around the same time as Jewel. I’m thinking someone from the Lilith Fair set. I don’t quite know if it’s Sarah McLachlan, but the voice is leaning more towards Paula Cole. The “Ambassador’s Gift” clue is a glittery cowboy hat. I’m gonna go with Paula Cole right now, because the cowboy hat makes me think of Paula’s song “Where Have All the Cowboys Gone?”. Paula’s in her fifties now and her singing voice might be a little deeper now than it was in the ‘90s, but I think the tone and the higher notes do kinda match.

[christiangittingsblog]

Handel's Messiah Live from the Sydney Opera House

// Cool live version of George Frideric Handel's  Messiah filmed at the Sydney Opera House.

Performed by Celeste Lazarenko (soprano), Nicholas Tolputt (countertenor), Andrew Goodwin (tenor), Christopher Richardson (bass-baritone), Sydney Philharmonia Choirs and Christmas Choir, Sydney Philharmonia Orchestra, Brett Weymark (conductor)

Handel's Messiah is an English-language oratorio composed in 1741 by George Frideric Handel. It is a musical reflection on the life and significance of Jesus Christ as the Messiah. The work is divided into three parts:

Part I focuses on prophecies about the coming of the Messiah and the birth of Jesus, including the famous "For unto us a child is born."

Part II explores the Passion of Christ, his crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension, culminating in the iconic "Hallelujah" chorus.

Part III contemplates the promise of eternal life and Christ's glorification in heaven.

The libretto, compiled by Charles Jennens, draws from the Bible, primarily the King James Version, and the Book of Common Prayer2. It is celebrated as one of the greatest choral works in Western music.

Handel's Messiah has a fascinating historical background. Composed in 1741, it was originally intended as an Easter offering and premiered in Dublin on April 13, 1742. Handel created the oratorio during a period when he was transitioning from composing Italian operas to English oratorios, responding to changing public tastes. 

The text, compiled by Charles Jennens, draws from the King James Bible and the Book of Common Prayer.

The premiere was a success, with an audience of 700 people, thanks to innovative measures like asking ladies to wear dresses without hoops to accommodate more attendees. However, its reception in London was initially modest before gaining immense popularity over time1. Today, Messiah is celebrated as one of the most iconic choral works in Western music.

References

[yestolerancepro]

Tolerance project Extra Mini blog Star episode III Revenge of Sith to return to ciniemas to Celebrate its 20th Birthday *

Note this blog is based on a post from the 9 meters website

Introduction

Prepare to witness the fall of Anakin Skywalker and the rise of Darth Vader once again on the big screen! Star Wars: Episode III – Revenge of the Sith is set to return to select theaters on April 25, 2025, in celebration of its 20th anniversary. Fans will have the rare opportunity to relive one of the most defining chapters in Star Wars history, this time with a fresh cinematic experience.

When Revenge of the Sith first premiered in May 2005, it not only concluded George Lucas’s prequel trilogy but also became a cultural phenomenon. The film grossed over $868 million worldwide, making it the highest-earning film of the year. More importantly, it delivered the tragic transformation of Anakin Skywalker into Darth Vader—one of the most iconic villain origins in cinematic history.

Unlike its predecessors, Revenge of the Sith received widespread acclaim for its darker storytelling, breathtaking action sequences, and emotional depth. It currently holds the highest Rotten Tomatoes score (79% critic, 66% audience) among the prequels and remains one of the most rewatched entries in the saga.

An Unforgettable Theatrical Return

This special re-release isn’t just about nostalgia—it’s about experiencing Revenge of the Sith the way it was meant to be seen. Fans will once again feel the intensity of the climactic duel between Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker on the lava-filled surface of Mustafar, a fight still considered one of the greatest lightsaber battles in Star Wars history.

For the first time, the film will also be available in 4DX screenings, meaning audiences will feel every explosion, force push, and lightsaber clash through motion-enabled seating and environmental effects. This added immersion promises to bring new life to the film’s already spectacular visuals and sound design.

The Prequels’ Lasting Impact on Star Wars

Though initially met with mixed reviews, the Star Wars prequel trilogy particularly Revenge of the Sith—has grown in popularity over time. With the rise of Disney+ series like The Mandalorian, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and The Bad Batch, the influence of the prequels is more evident than ever. The return of Ewan McGregor and Hayden Christensen in Obi-Wan Kenobi reignited fan appreciation, reinforcing Revenge of the Sith as a crucial part of Star Wars mythology.

Additionally, its themes of power, betrayal, and the tragic downfall of a hero have inspired new generations of Star Wars stories in films, TV, books, and comics. Even video games like Jedi: Fallen Order and Battlefront II reference events and characters tied to Revenge of the Sith.

To commemorate the occasion, Lucasfilm has commissioned renowned artist Matt Ferguson to create exclusive poster art, featuring Darth Vader’s menacing presence alongside key moments from the film. Ferguson, known for his stunning minimalist designs for Star Wars and Marvel films, has crafted artwork that pays homage to the prequel era while embracing the saga’s timeless appeal.

Further watching

To learn more about Star Wars Episode III Revenge of the Sith watch this video 10 things you didn’t know about Star Wars Episodes III Revenge of the Sith

To watch the original trailer for Star Wars Episode III Revenge of the Sith click here

[davisexplainableart]

September 10 - 11, 2024 - From Wood To Wax:

*deep breath*

Alright, have a seat, this is gonna take a while to explain.

Following the premiere of Inanimate Insanity S2E16, “The Reality of the Situation”, many fans were in a state of concern and panic, particularly due to the scenes where a contestant would be confronted by a robotic MePhone (well, more robotic than usual anyway), only to collapse to the ground completely lifeless (i.e. Pickle, OJ, and Nickel).

Sure, it wasn't the only thing people were talking about (lest we forget how all the contestants were created by MePhone4), but still.

And since Candle was shown to be attending the party where these incidents were happening, it was obvious that the same thing might happen to her too (which it did).

Now, onto me. I think it's no secret that I have a knack for creatures who are slightly more on the heavy side.

And for whatever reason, I thought about how that could work for something like an anthropomorphic object from an object show.

Obviously there's Spongy from BFDI, who I had drawn a TF sequence for the previous month, but I also drew a few sketches of how this could somehow apply to an object show contestant who wasn't already large like Spongy (i.e. Barf Bag (don't ask)).

Eventually, around the time that Inanimate Insanity S2E16 was announced, I thought about how something like that could apply to an II contestant like Soap or Candle.

It started out with Soap, which included sketching up a sequence where I somehow turn into her, then show concern for how filthy my bedroom was (please note that it wasn't actually meant to be a mind change TF).

However, all of that was put off after I watched S2E16, which somewhat inadvertently led me to imagine Candle possessing a bit of extra weight.

But unlike Soap, which I probably chalked up to her really liking the food served at Hotel OJ, I was certain that Candle wouldn't have any reason to do something like this (never mind the fact that these are inanimate objects).

Because of this, I tried to think of a workaround. I settled on the idea of Hammer from the series Crazy Battling (basically my object-sona) turning into a heavier version of Candle.

But how was I supposed to justify this happening?

Well, I settled on an idea that someone else online had come up with, where Candle has set up a de-stressing service of sorts in order for her to give anyone the chance to relax by any means necessary.

Of the objects that came and went, Hammer (who is literally me, so I'll refer to him as myself) was the last one to pay a visit before the party at Hotel OJ.

I imagined that due to what I said earlier about her attending said party, the service was shut down (with Candle trying to record a message announcing the shutting down before getting deleted by MePhoneX).

Now, this is where things get confusing, since this was also before S2E17 released. As such, let's just write this off as an AU (alternate universe).

So, headcanon-ing that there would've been at least a month or 2 between the contestants being deleted, and the takedown of MePhoneX and Steve Cobs, I imagined that news outlets reported on the incident.

With the concerns surrounding the alleged cancellation of the show (in-universe specifically), some assets were given away.

And for some horribly twisted reason, I decided that this included some of the deleted contestants (just... try not to think about that too much), including Candle.

I (Hammer) was one of the ones there. The guy in charge of all this decides to hand the purple object that used to be Candle to me because...

I was a semi-celebrity (i.e. winning season 1 of Crazy Battling, as well as hosting season 2).

I was the last one to schedule an appointment for Candle's service.

However, being just as distraught over the events talked about on the news, I wasn't sure what to do next.

Since Candle helped me de-stress when I visited her, I had an idea that could potentially help me once more.

I went back to where her service was set up (a hut near a waterfall in the woods), placed Candle's mold in the ground, lit up her wick, and sat nearby in a meditating pose to try to somehow contact her.

Why did I try this, you ask?

Well, for her de-stressing service, one thing she did was have her and whoever her patient was meditate in silence. This was so she could observe their aura, in order to figure out what was causing them so much stress.

Sometimes, she would do this to interact with her patient via their subconscious (specifically if their needs required any... unrealistic methods).

I wanted to see if I could use that tactic to somehow get in contact with her spirit. Surprisingly, this worked.

In this AU, the deleted contestants' spirits wound up at the Purgatory Mansion (y'know, that one place where Marshmallow and Apple have been staying?), including Candle. Since she couldn't leave there, I imagined that the only way she could speak to anyone outside of that house was if her wick was lit up.

Since it worked, I talked with Candle's spirit (subconsciously) about what to do.

She was shown to be upset that her time alive had been cut short due to her getting deleted, not having a chance to continue her services. However, I came up with the idea of using my shapeshifting abilities (which by then I only really knew how to activate unconsciously) to turn myself into her and take over for her.

By her request, we decided that my personality would become a mix of our personalities (this was done to ensure that I would know how to understand someone's stress when taking her place).

Of course, with me being me, I decided to give my form a much softer and heavier body (likely to let others know that I'm not the real Candle).

Finally, as my transformation is nearly complete, Candle informs me about something important. Whenever someone transforms into someone else, that someone else's inner flame will follow with.

As such, it's of the utmost importance that I use those powers appropriately, and to never use them for evil.

Alright, I think that's about everything.

Let me know if you have any other questions.

ALSO, please let me know if I made any grammatical errors here. I'm too tired to check for myself.

[goldenpinof]

ok lowkey....im on 'secret project is tv show/phodcast/similar form of entertainment' hill...i still think a tour so soon after wad (which again lost them money apparantly) is unlikely tho ill be v happy if it is a tour - but rewatching the livestream and dan talks about how the gaming chanell is such 'light, sitting on our ass content'. before mentioning the secret project....which i guess a tour technically is also content but it feels weird to refer to it like that. also wasnt dapg called project x before it was announced? were any of the tours called project anything?? anyways basically i think it's some kind of new content along those lines however a tour (or phard phaunch if theres still hard launch truthers out there) would also be such vibes

did that make any sense at all LOL

you know what's confusing. they've raised a question of a new dnp tour at least twice in the last 4 months. god forbid it was more than twice, and my memory is failing me. edit: it was 3 times. but if i remember correctly, it was during wad premiere and ywgttn event in London, + ywgttn Bath. so their dnpg viewers don't really know that the tour is in their minds? (if i'm forgetting dnp mentioning it on dnpg, please, yell at me. a mention during gamingmas was too fucking vague.) my point is, we know they know we want a tour. and that's why we keep thinking that we may get it every time they are talking about a new project. but realistically, it's too soon, yes. wad isn't over, and Dan needs to close that chapter before opening a new one.

on the other hand, strike while the iron is hot. and i'm not sure if the audience is gonna be there in a year or two. i'm not sure if dnp as a brand is gonna be there in two years. it all depends on content, its intensity, and their side solo shenanigans. so, i get why they would want to rush it. also, the goddamn anniversaries are this year.

i can't answer if their tours were called "project something" before. with tatinof idk, with ii i legit don't remember how they announced it and what the vibes were like a month before.

i also think it should be something we "enabled" by just watching the videos and supporting Dan's characters (his word, not mine), aka something new, something loud and risky, but also iconic and historical. a rebrand of sorts? an expansion of dnp brand outside the gaming channel? idk. they are putting their feet in the phandom spaces so much lately, it's a bit scary. like, what are they planning to do with it? where is this going? i'm just yapping at this point.

why does Dan need a photoshoot for "if anyone wants to engage me for a professional event" now? it cannot be a joint tour, not right now. if it is, i don't understand how.

[smoreobscurelore]

Imagining Good Omens Minisodes.

Scotland Parliament 6 March 1457

For what-ever reason, Crowley hates golf, or is pulling a 'messing up the phone network around London', type of mischief. He gets James II to ban it in Scotland by convincing him that people were playing golf instead of doing their military training. But you see, Aziraphale is quite a fan of golf. It leads to the two of them bickering like an old married couple for 40 years and doing little miracles to out-wit each other. Which led to the ban being repeated in 1471 and 1491

London, West End, Valentine's Day 1895

Aziraphale is on the west end about to watch the premier debut of 'The Importance of Being Earnest'. Crowley is there and up to mischief. Aziraphale gets pulled into it. Aziraphle misses the play but does end up running into Oscar Wilde in the process. (Hopefully with some reference to Michael Sheen in 'Wilde', maybe even with Stephen Fry as a guest because you know he'd do it) Later that evening Crowley takes Azirapahle out for supper to make up for him missing the show.

The Glasgow–London Royal Mail Train. August 8, 1963.

The 'anonymous insider who provided sensitive train schedule and cargo information' is Crowley. They have a little train heist misadventures together. I think it's a good candidate for what happened between 1941 and 1967 that led to the 'you go too fast for me Crowley'. I think Crowley should almost get discorporated during it too, which is why in 1967, Aziraphale didn't want Crowley risking his neck on the 'holy water heist'. He's seen how it can go south already with the train heist. Maybe it's even why Aziraphale wants to drive from London to Edinburgh in season 2 instead of taking the train.

[pyronovas]

okay tumblr is full of pedro at the gladiator ii premiere from yesterday, i love ittt and i can’t wait for the references and draw this handsome man :33

me either!! there's already some amazing art out there with just the small snippets we've seen but i'm so excited to see what more the fandom creates, the art always amazes me as someone who has no talent in that realm lol