#its v opera and chill

[khristie16]

Hi, could you write about charles being domineering and possessive? I love your writing, smut please!

Well this turned out toxic lol, enjoy :** Warnings: charles is controlling and toxic, face slapping, cnc, fingering, oral, video footage, p in v, the plot is needed

Charles? Yes, my love? You said the business dinner is tomorrow at seven right? Yes, why? Well, - I really wanted to visit my friends. I haven't seen them in a while. -

You two were lying in the bed now, ready to sleep. At least Charles was, your mind was drifting away. You and Charles were dating for some time already. You were losing counts because Charles made sure you celebrate each month of being together. Giving you gifts, inviting you to luxury dinners, beautiful operas and showing you off practically everywhere. Sometimes when you wanted anything more chill, he made sure to make your wish come true. So you were indeed very happy with him. But last months were all about the two of you and you started missing your friends, even though you are a good friend and are always there for them, even if it means only texting and calling each other every second day. -

Baby but I've told you about the dinner soon enough. I know, it's just - I haven't seen them in person for a while. YN, I need you there.

He was right. You indeed knew about this dinner soon enough, yet you was sad you have to cancel on them.

Ok - you said unhappy. In reaction, Charles squeezed you even more then before and held you tightly for the rest of the night.

>>>>>>>>>>

The next day you went to work and thought about the upcoming event. Another business dinner, it wasn't anything fun. All they did was talk business and bad jokes about politics or women. Charles wasn't participating in these, but others were - even if they had their wives right next to them. You've told Charles you don't like to spend your evenings like this but he's told you you are his woman, and he needs you there.

On the way back home, you opened your phone. *4 missed calls from Charles*

You forgot to check your phone the whole day. As you were looking on the screen, you've heard the squeal of the tires. Taking your head up to its direction, you saw the man walking out of his car. It was Charles. Making his way towards you with hard and fast walk. Face expression unreadable.

Where have you been??? At work- Then why you don't take my calls?? I forgot to check my phone!

His tall figure over your own made you feel uneasy. He was cruel with his tone, words and glare. His presence was so domineering you felt small. The twist in your stomach was creeping out so you looked back to the screen of your telephone. You've heard him exhale.

I was scared that something happened to you. No Charles, I just forgot.

He nodded and took you by your hand, leading you to the car.

>>>>>>>>>>

As there were some hours left for you to get ready for the business dinner, you sat comfortable on the couch and messaging your friends. You were smiling at their jokes as you've told them about yours and Charles's plan tonight.

This guy! It's not enough for him to live with you! He needs to have you all the time for himself! We will fight for you YN. We're not giving up. Totally, I will make my fabulous pinna colada leaving him in agony and delight at the same time, he will have a hard time to focus, so you could sneak off and spend time with us!

As you chuckled, you've felt a warm breath on your neck. Charles was hovering over you, he seemed rather unbothered by the fact, he was invading your privacy.

Charles! Who are you texting? My friends as you can see Alright then.

He walked back to the bathroom leaving you alone, in a weird state, but you you decided not to think about that.

You tossed your phone on the couch and went to prepare yourself. You opened your closet searching for the perfect dress today. - red long dress with slit without straps and bare back.

Not these.

You turned around to look at him in confusion.

Why not? Because i don't need any man to look at you like you're a piece of meat.

You were speechless. Is he being real? From when he is acting like this. He always wanted to show you off so others could be jealous of him. You didn't mind this behavior, or when he was making the decision for both of you, but this was getting a little uncomfortable to you. You were still looking at the dress you were holding in your hand and did not wanted to give up on them.

Take the silver one, they are perfect for this occasion. Hmm,….alright…… - you answered Charles and dressed yourself. Yes, they were indeed beautiful as well. Just not your first choice tonight.

>>>>>>>>>>

As you were working on the last details in front of the mirror, Charles appeared behind you. You saw his eyes lingering over you body which made you blush a little.

Your boobs got bigger. What? I said your boobs are bigger. It's not possible, Charles. Unless I'm pregnant which I'm not. You sure about that?

You stopped paying attention to your earrings, leaving them on the counter. You looked at Charles. His intense gaze piercing right through you. It was getting hot in the room.

Of course I'm sure. I wouldn't mind YN. Actually, - I'd be thrilled.

He went closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing you on the neck. Leaving wet spots on your skin and hands going a little lower squeezing your abdomen. You moaned a little and put your back to his torso to feel him more. He reacted with a stronger squeeze and biting your neck.

Charles stop-p, I cannot have a hickey - you giggled a little and pressed your butt into his crotch. He stopped kissing your neck and positioned his mouth right next to your ear.

Don't tell me what to do.

Your eyes had a hint of surprise and uneasiness when he straightened his posture and backed off a little. His eyes once again on your body.

You will change. What? The dress. It's too provocative. No Charles, I will not change! Stop with raising your voice. No! I've already changed just for you and I'm not gonna do it again!These are fine.

His eyes darkened, and it appeared he stopped breathing as well for a moment. As you wanted to put your earrings on again, he abruptly went closer to you and took his hand to your neck. Squeezing around your throat.

If you will - again - try to raise your voice at me and disobey me, I will throw you on the desk right here right now and fuck you hard you will struggle taking a seat at the dinner. You want that?

You could feel his breath all over your face it made you shiver. And his grip on your neck got stronger you felt scared. You immediately shook your head.

Good - he nodded and kissed your temple on the side.

>>>>>>>>>>

You didn't talk to Charles the whole ride. You were mad at him for putting such a scene back home. You've decided to talk to him about it when you finally be left alone. He has always listened to you and wanted you to tell him anything what's bothering you. Your happiness was his priority.

You greeted others and found a place to sit around the table. Throughout the whole occasion, Charles held you tightly and kept the greetings short and simple.

The dinner was all the same. Boring stuff to talk about and good food. As you looked up from your plate, your gaze met with this other man. His name was George. He is the youngest one and with so much less experience. Charles was the younger one as well but he had a talent in this, offering him to be on better position even at such a young age. George smiled at you and you smiled back. Feeling a tight squeeze on your thigh, your gaze shot to Charles. He was smiling at you lightly, but it didn't meet his eyes.

After the main meal you took a second drink for you and talked to other women, more of like listened to what they had to say, because you really didn't have anything in common. Run away as fast as you can, a life with a business man will drain you sweetheart. You offered them a polite smile and excused yourself. On the way to the toilets you bumped into someone. You looked up and saw one of the husband of those women.

Oh hello there darling. Good evening Javi. Being alone, just by yourself? No, I just need to use the bathroom.

You felt uncomfortable. Javi was a slime. Charles was probably right to wear a different dress for today's evening. You wanted to say a goodbye to him, but he spoke up again.

You know, my wife and I are together for a long time- -YN!

Charles was now approaching the both of you. Big relief spreading through your body.

I'd like to have YN for myself. Now. Of course Charles, I get it. Totally.

He smiled back at you and went back to the main dining room, leaving you and Charles in the hall.

What were you doing here alone? Nothing, I needed to go to the toilets. Oh really, with Javi? Charles are you for real?

He pressed his body to yours, making you step back to hit the wall behind you. He was mad and you didn't know why.

Stop playing with me YN. I'm not! I'm telling the truth! I'm so sick of sharing you cherie. Sharing me? I'm with you, what do you mean?

He grabbed your arm and tossed you around to on the narrow conference table on the side. You yelped with pain.

Stop playing with me. I'm not! You sure are. As if ti wasn't enough already. You trying to run away from me? WHAT? You don't pay attention to me anymore. Always speaking of your friends of how you want to be with them. Where does that leave me at? C-Charles, that's not true! I live with you, I'm with you, I love you! You do? Of course. Why on earth would you think that I don't?

His face softened a little but his eyes told otherwise.

Alright. But I'm done sharing. With who? Everyone. I hate the fact they have access to you. And flirting with George? I didn't flirt with him. I saw it.

He pulled your dress up and sat you down on the table. You hit the wood below you hard. He grabbed you by the knees and strechted your legs to the sides making you cry his name in pain. He moved his hands to your hips and pulled you closer to his crotch. When you looked back at him, you had never seen a darker look on his face. There was tension, pain and determination. He started to move in such a way that he rammed his erect penis into your clit. The stimulation clouded your mind and you let yourself drift away for a moment of pleasure. The movements were slow, yet hard, in small circles. But it was not enough for you. You started to thrust right at against him but he stopped reciprocating. When you opened your eyes, you could see a cheeky smile. All logic coming back to you with loud exhale.

Charles What YN Stop it, we cannot do it here We are exactly doing it here. No

Making entertainment for other guests in the evening was the last thing on your wish list. You were about to move up and close your legs back together, but before you could do it, a slap landed on your face. Terrified, you looked up, tears welling up in your eyes.

If you wanna apologize to me about flirting with other man, you will take me right here right now so everyone will know for sure who you belong to.

He grabbed the nape of your neck and pounced on your lips harshly. Demanding for you to open your mouth. It was hard to resist, he was much stronger. He had access now to deep throat you leaving you breathless. The sound of others flowed down the corridor where you were and it made you think again. But before it could escalate, he spread your legs open and moved the hem of your panties to the side. Playing with your folds, his index finger running up and down and middle finger teasing your hole. You're always so wet for me. The tension building up in your abdomen was getting uncomfortable and you complained with loud groan. He chuckled and thrusted three fingers in you. Making you gag on your own breath.

Better cherie?

You moaned loud and uncontrollably. You squeezed your walls against him feeling the high approaching. But he teased you, slowing his movements and soothingly pecking your neck.

Charles! Take a proper look on yourself cherie What are you talking about?

He put his hand deep in pocket to pull out his phone. With a couple fast movements, he found what he was looking for. It was you in the bathroom, the day you first tried out your new toy.

You have cameras in our bathroom???? Yes - so I can look at in anytime when I'm at work.

Shame and embarrassment flew through you, an incredible heat filled your body and you wanted to hide. You couldn't believe you were dating someone who had cameras in their own bathroom.

You're mine after all. I have every right to do it.

Before could decide to protest anyway, he started once more to finger you. He went down and licked your clit. Meanwhile his other hand showed you the video of you moaning. It made you so horny you forgot about everything and felt the pleasure building fast. Hearing yourself made you more hot in combination with what Charles was doing with his tongue. Seeing him on his knees for you, degrading you at the same time with the video and pleasing you over the top. You moaned more with each one and when finally, he stopped. Writhing on the spot you cried out.

Pleeasse You liked watching yourself?

He chuckled as he stood up, got rid of his belt, opened his trousers and let him set free. He stroked himself while cupping your breasts.

Yes, definitely bigger. I want to see them. It was hard for you to pull the dress down, but you did eventually. He pinned your nipples. Taking his tip to your hole and shoving himself inside of you making your toes curl. His pace was fast and hard. Taking you by the throat, he fucked you without mercy.

You. - thrust - are. - thrust - mine. Do. - thrust - you. - thrust - un. - thrust - der. - thrust - stand?

He breathed to your ear. You screamed YES, wanting to come already. You felt your pussy throbbing in pain from all the stimulation.

I should have married you. Put a baby inside of you sooner.

You came with his spoken words and rocked on his cock for the rest of your orgasm. Leaving you breathless, you calmed down a little.

I've switched your pills…..

[winterchimez]

if you were to meet your moots irl, what kind of date/activities would you like to do with them?

omg weee this is such a cute and fun ask! tagging ones that i talk to frequently 😚

@sungbeam - i'd imagine us having a picnic in a field (maybe han river or smth hahaha) we'd be bringing tons of snacks and honestly i feel like we could chat all day literally abt anything, and scream and simp over men in public 🤡 i'll be bringing some 蛋花汤 thermos flask lol, and she promised to bring me eat good vietnamese food if we ever meet irl so there's that 🍜

@juyeonszn - gurl's literally a barista so we gotta go cafe hopping fs 😤 bonus points for doing it in japan cs we both love our animes 🇯🇵 and ofc hitting up in a dance studio we gotta record some tiktok dance challenges tgt fr!!

@daisyvisions - i would love to go shopping with you for some reason HAHAHA we could just have tons of convos and walk through the entire mall and visit the umm well. the store that starts with a v cs. yknow. 🤡

@itsbeeble - based on that ✨ahem✨ sangyeon fic you wrote i would love to bake some treats with you haha baking is actually one of my side hobbies i thought it'll be fun to do it with you 😚

@zzoguri - moni and i will have to attend a concert fs. we will be screaming at the top of our lungs clinging onto each other and record our boys while giving each other some emotional support along the way 🙌 we can also have a fun lil makeup session tgt too hahah you gotta teach me some eye makeup fs 😮‍💨 omg and visit the scotland national musuem cs there's literally a dr who exhibition there!!! (idk if its still on but it was when i was there during spring lol)

@from-izzy - my fellow music enthusiast 🎶 gurl idc im bringing you to london with me we be going door to door to each of the theatres to watch literally EVERYTHING 😤 and ofc you could bring me to the sydney opera house someday

@justalildumpling - j is all about 🥂 so going to a bar it is!! the way i can envision j dragging me to the dance floor and hyping everyone up around is implanted in my brain lmao also we have to go get our matching lipstick fr 🤧💄

@invuwrld - my umm coughs ✨gremlin✨ 🙄 me is thinking of a cozy night of chilling tgt at home while binge watching netflix with a hot cup of cocoa or smth hahhaha i know you watch mackenyu and so do i and we're gonna watch it for ✨the plot✨

@heemingyu - we attending a sabrina carpenter con tgt idc we have to 😤 i remember we had this convo about books so a trip to a cozy library themed coffee shop would be so nice 🥹

@stealanity - my matty unnie will have to bring her baby ally all around paris fs!! i crave for their pastries oml the best croissant ive ever had there when i was there last year 😭 and i would love to enjoy the night life there i think it's just ✨chefs kiss✨

@littleroaes - dora is literally the sweetest human bean omg and since we're both in eu i'd imagine going to christmas markets with you!! def up for staying in a ski resort or smth too and prob witness auroras if we're lucky!!

@kimsohn - we could go to an animal-themed cafe!! idk abt you but i love puppies and i would love to play with them with a good friend so 🥹🐶

@mosviqu - you and i could go on a road trip tgt while blasting some good music on the radio like i need you to rec me some more music besides the ones that i often listen to 🎧 gotta update my spotify list fs

[teyvat-writer]

Phantom of the Opera AU

A/N: Ok so I was watching a PV for Cantarella and one of the comments said it reminded them of The Phantom of the Opera so I looked at the Wiki synopsis and then had immediate brain rot. This is v scuffed quality I'm sorry </3.

TW - stalking, murder, (kind of) Stockholm syndrome, abduction, reader is mentioned to be wearing makeup but is GN (it’s theater, everyone wears makeup tbh)

The moon is veiled by clouds and the air is crisp, carrying a chill that permeates the skin and festers within the bones. And yet, here you are, kneeling before the grave of your late father. A bouquet of roses sits between you and the stone slab.

"It's been a while since I last visited, no?"

You don't expect an answer, yet still speak all the same. It's more comfortable than sitting and staring at the cool stone slab engraved with your father's name. As you sit, you don't notice the shadowy figure approaching, yet the shock of adrenaline through your system tells you to flee. Adrenaline spikes the air upon hearing the bowing of a violin. It's a shrill sound, not enough to be grating, but enough to cause your heart to leap into your throat. There's something familiar about the tune, you know you've heard it before, but you can't quite place the name. You look around wildly to find the music's source, eyes snagging on a tall figure standing under a nearby tree. They’re obscured by the tree's shade in the soft moonlight, yet you can discern a faint shimmer where their face presumably is.

"Hello?"

No response. Electing to keep to your wits, you get up and make your way to the cemetery's gate, periodically glancing behind you to ensure the mystery person wasn't following you until you've stepped through the open gate. You sprint back home, only to toss and turn in your attempts to sleep.

Just where had you heard that song?

𝄥𝄞 —————— ♪ —————— 𝄇

Ernesto reads over the letter, a scowl twisting his rugged features.

“Beatriz, come look at this.”

The theater’s co-owner saunters over to Ernesto’s side, placing a hand on the desk and leaning down to read the letter.

“In all likelihood, it’s nothing more than a hoax. In poor taste, yes, but a hoax nonetheless.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

Ernesto crumples the letter then tosses it into a nearby waste bin.

“I agree that they're a fantastic singer, though.”

The premier of Faust falls upon the Teatro della Pergola, its owners having forgotten entirely about the threat of a curse. Box five is filled with guests and the lead actress, Laura, is in a dressing room preparing herself. You’re holed up in your dressing room, adjusting your hair and makeup. Something moves in your periphery, making your flesh rise into goose pimples. It reminds you entirely too much of the incident at the graveyard.

“Who’s there? You shouldn’t be here, you know?”

You feel stupid for even saying anything, as you’re answered by near defeaning silence-

With the fluttering of cloth, you’ve been tackled to the ground. You land on your side, the only barrier between you and potentially fracturing a rib being someone’s arms wrapped around you.

“Let me go!” You try wriggling out of his grasp to no avail, your wild swinging of fists and kicking doing nothing. You feel rough ropes encircling your wrists, tied snuggly.

“Release me or I’ll have security-” your mouth is covered with a cloth and he begins to gather you into his arms, hand firmly clasped over your mouth. He sprints to the opposite side of the room, pressing into something on the wall you can't quite see that causes a portion of the wall to fold inward like a door. Beyond is a dark, narrow set of steep stairs. He steps inside, shouldering the 'door' closed before descending with you in their arms.

Onstage, the curtains open and Laura gracefully steps on stage, opening her mouth to deliver her opening lines-

All that comes out is a croak, as though she were a toad. The audience is shocked, silence settling over the theater. Something creaks and groans, then a chandelier falls, plummeting into the crowd. It lands with a near deafening crash, the very floor shaking from the impact. Blood begins seeping from under the chandelier.

𝄥𝄞 —————— ♪ —————— 𝄇

How long had you been down here?

"Mio caro…" He croons, voice smooth as silk. The door hinges groan in protest as it creaks open, his signature white porcelain mask adorned with intricate golden detailing gleams in the low candle light. You look at him from where you're seated on the bed, lips pressed into a thin line, refusing to say anything. He stalks towards you, his single, visible eye trained on you, unblinking. He's standing in front of you, now, lithe fingers ghosting against your cheek. He leans down to eye level, iris nearly drowned out by his dilated pupil. You're disgusted- how could this monster who abducted you look at you as though you were lovers?! In outrage, you make a wild swing for his face, colliding with porcelain. The mask flies off and surprisingly doesn't shatter, only landing with a loud clatter that rings in your ears in the deafening silence after. You aren't sure if you should be repulsed or if you should pity the poor man before you- Scar tissue extends out from the crater of his right eye socket, like the limbs of a sea beast emerging from a whirlpool.

"Well… This certainly complicates things."

He sighs, picking his mask up and eyeing it before placing it back on his face.

"Ah, where are my manners? My name is Stefano."

He does a small bow, and you aren't sure whether you're intrigued or want to smack his mask off again for having the audacity to act so cordial towards you after holding you captive for who-knows-how-long.

"H- how long have I been here?"

"About a week." You balk at his response- A week? A whole damn week?!

"Let me go!"

He doesn't even look as though he's considering your demand, so you try a softer approach.

"Please just let me go, I'll do whatever you want, just.. please." His single-eyed gaze softens, and he looks to the floor.

"Only on one condition;" He reaches into an unseen pocket in his cloak.

"You will wear my ring and stay faithful to me."

The polished gold gleams in the candle, like a small ray of sun. The crimson diamond adorning the ring casts fractals of light upon the walls that dance and shimmer as though you were underwater. Desperate for freedom, you hold your hand out.

𝄥𝄞 —————— ♪ —————— 𝄇

"His right eye was… oh, God, it was mangled! Like a horrible crater of flesh!” Sebastian soothingly rubs your back as you recount your experience of being abducted.

“I’ll help you get away, get you far, far away from that man.” He offers, solemn but genuine.

“Thank you…”

“Let’s enact our plan tomorrow. After you perform, I’ll be backstage to watch over you and escort you out.” You nod, hope swelling in your heart and yet, you can’t help but feel that something is horribly wrong.

The final showing of Faust is upon you, and you wait at the edge of the stage with a pounding heart, rushing blood the only sound you can register.

All goes smoothly, your voice echoing through the theater, seraphic. Yet, something is keeping you from relaxing fully. The thought that the ‘phantom’ is still lurking in the shadows is disquieting, you looking over your shoulder every few seconds when off stage. Your cue comes, and you step back onto stage, opening your mouth to deliver your lines-

Only to be whisked away, back into the dark labyrinth.

Sebastian jolts out of his seat upon watching you disappear. He clambers towards the stairs leading backstage, stopped only by a tap on the shoulder. Agitated, he turns, glaring at the stranger.

“What do you want?!”

“Call me Oda. I know where he took them.” It takes a moment for the words to register in Sebastian’s racing mind but ultimately, he nods, hoping this man is true to his word.

𝄥𝄞 —————— ♪ —————— 𝄇

“Who the hell builds this shit?” Sebastian’s voice echoes faintly in the dark, stone corridors. It’s damp and chilly, something strangely musky in the air. They come upon a vast room, almost impossible in its geometry. Nearly every inch of the room is covered in mirrors.

“I’m sorry, Sebastian. We have to go through, there’s no other way.” Oda remarks sternly. Sebastian huffs in annoyance, grabbing the other’s hand.

“Let’s stick together. Who knows what’ll happen if we get separated.”

They descend into the shining labyrinth.

𝄥𝄞 —————— ♪ —————— 𝄇

“I thought we had an agreement-”

“You didn’t hold up your end of it.” Stefano’s voice is cold, yet possesses a searing edge.

“Wha-”

“Don’t think I don’t know of your plan to leave here, to leave me!” He hisses, accent thickening with fury. You’re silent, mulling over your response. You… care about this man, on some level- pity, really. Not even his family had loved him, and some part of you pities him to the point you do love him.

“Since I cannot have you, I’ll ensure no one can.”

“Stefano, please-”

“I’ll take this whole Godforsaken theater with me.”

“No, please! I’ll marry you, I’ll be yours forever-!” You faintly hear Sebastian’s voice, calling your name.

“Sebastian? Sebastian, where are you?!” You cry. You turn back to Stefano.

“Please, I’ll do as you want, just let him and everyone else go!” You’re crying at this point, sobs shaking your body. Stefano embraces you in an attempt to sooth you, pressing delicate kisses to the top of your head. You aren’t sure what overcomes you in that moment, but you pull away, reaching up and discarding his mask, caressing the part of his face it covered. You press a soft kiss to his thin lips, feeling him go rigid from shock. You observe his expression as you pull away, his single, icy blue eye wide, pupil a mere pinprick of obsidian. A single tear slides down his cheek, leading the procession to come. He pulls you closer, trembling.

“Mio caro…”

The door swings open, Sebastian glowering in the doorway. You give him a meek wave, ignoring his baffled expression. Oda comes up behind him.

“It appears he’s finally found love after all these years.”

“Promise me, caro, promise me you’ll return my ring on the day I die.”

“Of course.” You whisper, foreheads pressed together. You kiss him one last time before rising and joining Sebastian.

“Goodbye, Stefano.”

𝄥𝄞 —————— ♪ —————— 𝄇

It’s been a couple years, and yet you can’t bear to forget him. At night, when you close your eyes, you envision him in all his twisted elegance. Not once did you forget your promise. Now, you’re tossing and turning when suddenly, there’s a knock on your door. You open it, revealing Oda standing before you with a solemn gaze.

“It’s time.”

You both head over to the Teatro della Pergola and he leads you into the labyrinth below, navigating as though he himself lived there. You help him haul Stefano’s corpse to the middle of a lush field. Once the hole is dug, you gently lay him within it, tears stinging your eyes. You push the dirt back into place, Oda planting a simple wooden cross into the disturbed soil. Hesitantly, you slip the ring off, placing it upon the fresh mound of dirt.

[ofhoratio]

@cassiankunhee may 18th, galleria dello scudo. evening.

Visitors come and go, drifting to the few rooms where the artists have arrived early. Business cards in wallets and pale champagne held between thumb and forefinger. A new exhibit, after all. VIP night. And all the while Hector remains rooted to his position, glass of water left full, the exhibit in front of him coloured in shades of red, black. Oddly enrapturing, even after twenty seven minutes.

There’s no neutral ground left. Nowhere safe, not any more. And certainly not this place, this gallery on the edges of what was once Capulet territory, who have had dealings with that cosca. But there’s more than a little madness in Hector’s veins now, that reckless blood, something wild in him come to stay.

His eyes trace the walls. The blocks of colour. Abstracted lines. Filtered light pooling a shadow at his feet. It’s one of the few windowless rooms in the gallery. He waits.

[daydreaming-in-letters]

Worship

Chapter V - Feel the music

08/27/2021

Pairing: Hades (August Walker/Geralt of Rivia) x Eliza (OFC)

Word Count: 6,097

Warnings: teasing, pining, alcohol consumption, public fingering, public, unprotected, rough sex

Summary: Hades whisks Eliza off to the opera where she will perform her second worship.

A/N: This is an explicit warning: You might never listen to Nessun Dorma the same way again after reading this chapter. 😉

Picture by Kazuo oat via Unsplash

Divider by @firefly-graphics

If you like my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. Please don’t copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.

The dress had arrived a week ago. Since then, it had sat on a coat hanger that was attached to the door of her wardrobe. She hadn’t dared put it inside with her other clothes as she felt they were not worthy of such majestic company. It was stunning, exquisite and elegant, and she had marvelled at it from afar every night before bed. The way the warm light of her bedside lamp made the little stones sparkle against the black fabric was enchanting and more than once she had asked herself if they might actually be real diamonds.

For the first time she could feel the wide skirt swish around her legs now while she carefully took the stairs step by step in her silver lace up heels. With every second step her leg broke through the long slit that went almost all the way up to her hip and it wasn’t hard to guess what had been on the god’s mind when he had chosen that piece of clothing for her. The neckline was also anything but subtle, falling down to the base of her sternum. She could only hope that the thin straps were tougher than they looked and would survive the evening.

She shivered as she finally stepped into the warm light of the remaining day. The chauffeur was already waiting by the back door, pulling it open for her as she approached. Again, he didn’t say a single word and chose to greet her with a simple nod as he held out his hand to her.

Mindful not to crumble or rip the precious fabric, she gathered it in her free hand before she stepped inside, her legs now on full display. And when her eyes fell on the dark figure beside her, she let out an audible gasp.

“Well, hello to you too, Eliza,” Hades smirked upon her surprise. He looked stunning in his night black, tailored smoking, fitting him perfectly up to the impeccably bound bow tie. His mesmerising appearance paired with the fact that she hadn’t expected to find him waiting for her in the car already, made her brain practically useless and so she was forced to watch as he took her hand in his and brought it up to his lips to press a welcoming kiss to its back. All the while, his eyes never left hers despite the amount of tempting bare flesh her dress put so conveniently on display for him and she couldn’t help but admire his divine self-control.

“Are you feeling well, my silent mortal?”

With every passing second that she stayed mute, she saw the concern in his eyes grow, but as much as she wanted to assure him she was alright, her tongue refused to obey her will. What the hell was wrong with her? Her ridiculous behaviour began to anger her, causing small bumps to form on her skin all over her body. Of course, this hadn’t escaped his attention, but he must have mistaken her anger for a chill from the air-conditioning as he pulled her into his side, his arm wrapping around her shoulders to share his body heat with her. And although she wasn’t freezing in the least, his caring gesture eased her nerves immediately. Slowly, she found herself relax in his embrace as the familiar feeling of his presence flooded her system, a unique composition of security, excitement, a splash of danger and something else she couldn’t quite define just yet.

She had missed him, although she would never admit that out loud, his smell, so musky and arousing, the way he looked at her, either with an unmatched hunger or a tenderness that made her heart melt, she had missed everything about him. But most of all she had missed the way he held her tight while his sinfully low voice whispered of all the things he wanted to do to her.

“You look ravishing,” he hummed close to her ear, his whiskers tickling her pleasantly. “And I have to warn you, I will not tire of repeating myself on that matter tonight.”

“Thank you for the compliment, my lord.” She rolled her eyes internally as her own words resounded in her mind. There were at least a thousand better ways of replying to that she could think of now, on the other hand, she was thankful that her mouth had finally decided to take up its work after all.

“Well, who would have thought you’d find your voice eventually?” Hades smiled candidly. “I was already beginning to suspect that you had decided to follow Siopilos’ example. But as much as I appreciate the silence, I appreciate the sound of your voice more.”

She had never wanted to kiss him more than in this moment, but before she even got the chance, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a black envelope. Without a word, he held it out to her and waited patiently until she had taken it from his hand and opened it.

“Turandot?” Her heart was almost beating out of her chest when she read the printed name on the tickets out loud. “Did you know that is my fav—“ A pleased chuckle made it unnecessary to finish that question. “Of course you did. But how?”

“I am a god, remember?”

Maybe, but for all she knew, omniscience wasn’t one of his powers. “You asked Alex, didn’t you?”

“But I couldn’t have done that without being the God of the Underworld, could I?”

He seemed completely unfazed by the fact that she had called him out.

“I can’t believe he told you that,” Eliza spat, shifting a little in Hades’ embrace to get a better look at him. “I assumed he would be furious with you because of our…arrangement.”

“Well, if it helps, he didn’t really tell me.”

“No, you didn’t!”

Without a warning, his heated palm pressed to her thigh and began to glide upwards until it had vanished underneath the hem of her dress completely.

“Believe what you want if it makes you feel better.”

His breath crawled over her cheeks and she had to close her eyes to press out a weak, “But why?”

“To please you, my sweet mortal.”

Possessive fingers dug into the supple flesh close to her behind, making her wince.

“You invaded his mind against his will just to please me?”

There were worse things he would do. He would neither tell her that nor admit it to himself, but he’d probably watch the world burn to ashes if it was for her.

Leaning in, he pushed the thick strands of dark hair aside that shielded her neck from him to press a claiming kiss to her velvety skin. He could feel the fluttering rhythm of her heart against his lips and he had never had to try so hard to refrain from marking her as his.

When he finally pulled away, she whimpered, moaning the loss of his lips that had set her on fire only a second ago. But Hades was no cruel god, and so he let his fingers slowly glide along the delicate line of her jaw before he cupped her cheek and pulled her face to his. He was just about to indulge her again, when the pressing question that had formed behind her dark eyes made him retreat.

“Did you read my mind too?”

Her question astounded him. How could it be that despite all the intelligence she possessed, she had been totally oblivious to the impact her thoughts had on him whenever he chose to listen? An involuntary smirk forced its way onto his lips when he recalled the last night they had spent together and how her wild fantasies alone had almost brought him his release.

But then his smile faltered as he could see her eyes darken even further while the realisation sank in and she was just about to open her mouth when the limousine began to slow before it came to a halt.

“It seems we have arrived,” he stated, obviously very pleased that he wouldn’t have to answer her. At least not now, because the door behind him opened to reveal the wide stairway that lead up to the majestic entrance of the opera house.

Funny, she thought, how she had wanted to slap him only a second ago as she had found out how brazenly he had violated her privacy, when all she wanted to do now was pull him back to her chest while she watched him leave the car. She hated him for holding this weird spell on her, for luring her into their damned contract that bound her to him now and made her a slave to his will. But most of all she hated that even in the moments she was free to be her own mistress, he occupied her mind constantly, so much so that it almost caused her physical pain to be away from him.

“Shall we?” his expectant tone pulled her out of her thoughts and she found his extended hand waiting for her, large palm facing upwards, inviting her to take it and join his side.

The next moments played out before her like the scenes of a movie, giving her this weird feeling that she had left her body and was watching herself as she ascended the stairs. Her arm was looped through his, he had seen to that after he had helped her out of the Bentley. Eliza hadn’t liked it, seeing it simply as another demonstration of his claim on her, but now, as she struggled to keep her balance on those darned heels, she began to wonder if it had rather been her safety that concerned him.

Whatever his intentions might have been, she was more than relieved when they finally arrived between the large pillars that lined the entry. But her relief didn’t last for long, only until the two doormen opened the gateway and she could see the first heads turn. Curious eyes were boring into her skin as Hades led her through the opulent vestibule and up another flight of stairs. On instinct, her grip on him tightened, pressing her up against his body and she didn’t let go until the gold ornate doors of their opera box closed behind them. And in the intimacy of his sole company she finally relaxed.

Her feet still a bit unstable on the plush carpet, she wobbled over to the balcony, her fingers searching for support on the red velvet that covered the walls and matched both the floor and the two chairs that stood near the balustrade perfectly. Eliza took small steps, looking down at her feet every now and then in the fear she might stumble or her heels might catch in her dress and bring her to her knees and she didn’t even want to think about where that could lead in his presence. But her caution also drew her attention to the entrancing sparkle that radiated from the little gems on her dress and up to the small chandelier that caused the beautiful reflection of light. It set right in the middle of the booth, eliciting a soothing warm light while the crystals that decorated it shone in competition with her dress.

Right underneath it stood the God of the Underworld, who hadn’t moved an inch since their arrival, his watchful gaze resting on her while his face gave no hint at all to the thoughts that went through his mind. For a moment they just kept staring at each other, eyes probing, searching, trying to take a look into the future to find out what this night might hold for them.

Eliza was the first to avert her gaze before she resumed her way to the railing to take a look around the auditorium and she was rewarded with a splendour that took her breath away. Rich shades of crimson and gold arrayed the vast room, illuminated by hundreds of small lights that were placed along the three rows of balconies which overlooked the stalls and by one gigantic chandelier that baffled all descriptions. On closer observation, it seemed to faintly resemble the one she had marvelled at a minute ago, and which looked puny in comparison to the grandeur that presented itself to her eyes now.

It was almost impossible to draw her eyes away from it, but the ceiling fresco that surrounded it was just as impressive and deserving of her attention. She couldn’t really identify any of the scenes the artist had chosen to depict, but the style and colours were exquisite on their own.

It would have been a crime to ever take her eyes away from such beauty and she felt like she was committing a capital sin when the touch of his palm on her back caught her off guard and compelled her head to turn. But what she found there made her realise that the true blasphemy lay in having averted her gaze from him in the first place.

He was standing right next to her, close, but not close enough for his body to connect with hers save his hand pressed to the bare skin on her back. Looking up at the chandelier like she had done, he allowed her the view of his sublime profile in front of the rich crimson that curtained the stage.

Never in her life had she laid eyes on a man this beautiful. No, beautiful didn’t cut it, not in the least. He was truly divine and no one who was allowed a glimpse at Lord Hades would ever doubt that he was anything less than a god. Those eyes, so attentive and soft as they glistened in the light of the chandelier, that chiselled jawline, hidden behind a coat of stubble but still undoubtedly able to cut diamonds, and his lips, his full, perfectly curved lips that set her soul alight whenever they touched her skin or her lips, making her wonder what they would do to her should he ever choose to press them to her—

“Do you like what you see?”

He was still looking up at the ceiling when his smug question called her out for staring at him, making heat rush to her cheeks immediately.

“I’m sure you are more than aware of the effect you tend to have on people.” She let her eyes fall down to the people on the ground who had started to fill the room. And even as they spoke, some of them were looking up at them, at him, letting their blatant glances linger far too long than would have been decent. “I doubt that by the time the performance begins there will be one person in the room who hasn’t checked you out.”

“That’s not what I wanted to know,” he snarled, his head finally turning to find her eyes, securing her in place with his fingers around her chin. “Answer my question, Eliza.”

Truly divine, it shot through her head again, and it seemed that, like every god, he needed his worshippers to feed his fragile vanity. Maybe it was time he learned it was dangerous to give anyone that much power over himself.

“Will you allow me a question in return?”

He was reluctant to agree and Eliza’s confidence in her victory dwindled when the horrible idea crossed her mind that he might have been listening in on her thoughts. But then he finally nodded his consent, his fingers releasing her chin. Immediately she drew a step closer, pressing herself to his body, while her hands drifted up and down his chest tenderly. Poor guy, totally unsuspecting, she thought, as he returned the honeyed smile she sent him.

“I don’t think I have ever seen a man as beautiful as you, Lord Hades.”

It was a simple truth, something surely everyone would have answered in the face of his divinity, and yet, for a split second, she felt as if she had bared her soul to him. And when she found him leaning in, his approach sparked the hope of a kiss that would reward her sacrifice. A hope that was brutally smashed when he brought his lips to her ear instead of her mouth.

“That’s because I’m not a man, my sweet, but a god.”

As if she didn’t know that already. The God of the Underworld. Nothing but a fancy expression for what he truly was—the Devil. And when he leaned back, the diabolical smirk on his face seemed to prove her point. But then her eyes rose to meet his and the raging fire she found there ignited her heart like dry tinder. Mouth gravitating towards his out of control, her fingers clawed his pristine shirt and she already felt his scorching breaths drift between her parted lips, her question long forgotten, when his hands found her shoulders and pushed her away.

“What was it you wanted to ask me in return?”

“Hm?” she asked totally dumbfounded, her dazed state coaxing a cocksure smile onto his lips that finally helped her remember what had gotten her into this precarious situation.

“Your question, Eliza.”

“Oh, yes. The question. I was just wondering— Why the stache though? The last time men wore those without looking creepy was in the 80s, I guess.”

His boisterous pride washed away from his face immediately, filling her chest now in return. Her words seemed to have hit so hard that she could even watch his hand dart up to his mouth in uncertainty, but then he thought better of it and stopped himself halfway.

“If it repels you that much, would you rather have me get rid off it?”

“No,” she answered without hesitation, letting her thumb brush over his whiskers tenderly. Truth was, she didn’t find it repelling in the least. It somehow suited him quite well and she would never want it to fall victim to her scheme. Besides, she had reached her aim, she only needed to rub it in a little.

But before she even got the chance to take the next step, his hand wrapped tightly around her wrist, bringing her fingers up to his nose where he eagerly inhaled their scent.

“Did you think of me since we last saw each other?”

She had, of course she had, but she was about to negate when he tightened his grip.

“Don’t lie to me. I can smell that you did while you were tending to your needs.”

There was something about the tone of his voice that made her feel like she was a five-year-old again, who had been caught in the act of mischief and found herself faced with the panic of losing the love of her parents for her foolishness.

“Are you mad at me?”

“Mad?” His forehead wrinkled in confusion for a moment before an amused chuckle fell from his lips. “No, I’m not mad. Although I wish you would have granted me the privilege to watch while you were touching yourself to the thought of me.”

A violent moan forced its way up her throat from the mere image of the hunger in his eyes while he watched her making herself come to the thought of his large cock pounding into her with vigour. A moan so loud that she was sure the whole audience would be able to hear it. But luckily the sound of the bells that announced the performance was about to begin, rang through the auditorium, effectively covering her sinful display of desire.

He was still chuckling when he took his seat. Without paying her turmoiled state anymore attention, he reached out for a bottle of champagne that sat in its cooler on a small table to his right and filled two glasses. Patiently he waited for her to regain her composure and sit down next to him before he handed one of them to her.

“Cheers.” There was still a contented smile on his lips. “May the evening end as promisingly as it began.”

Eliza didn’t answer to his toast, instead she brought the glass to her lips and emptied it in one go. She was sure that she would need the soothing effect of the alcohol. Hades on his part had obviously chosen not to comment on her behaviour but to offer her a fill-up which she gladly accepted.

The music was enchanting, the actors simply sublime, drawing her in with their passionate performance and making it easy for her to forget where she was—and who she was with. At least up until the third act.

She was already beginning to doubt her suspicion that this visit to the opera was nothing more than a glamorous set up for her second worship, scolding herself for being so rash in judging him, when he stirred in his seat, slowly turning towards her while his arm extended along the edge of her backrest. He didn’t grant her a single word, but his eyes spoke volumes, fixing on her with the greed of a starved man who was about to feast on his first meal in days.

His famished stare froze her in place and she only noticed the probing hand on her thigh when it had already vanished under her dress completely.

“Lord Hades,” she gasped, “what are you doing?”

But even to her own ears it was apparent in the way she moaned his name that her protest was only half-hearted. And so he continued his quest, forcing her legs apart with ease to grant him better access to her core.

“Making you feel the music.”

“But people will see,” came another feeble objection, but instead of pushing him off of her, she could feel her legs open a little further for him.

“Then let them see.” His hand, that had rested behind her back motionlessly until now, cupped her head in a firm grip while he dove down into the crook of her neck to whisper his next words against her ear. “My concern is not for the people but for your pleasure, my precious mortal.”

Her forlorn moan was swallowed by the tenor’s captivating voice as he sang the first words of the opera’s most famous aria. Another one followed promptly as she could feel her panties dissolve into thin air under his magic and his fingertips wasted no time to glide between her slick folds. It took him no more than two decisive strokes to cover himself with her lavish nectar and he ventured down deeper to sink his fingers into her.

Eliza’s body jolted upon the unexpected invasion, one hand digging into his shoulder, the other aiming for his thigh as she desperately tried to keep the cry of pleasure that was dying to break out of her sealed inside. His thick digits spread her so perfectly, the sweet stinging pain of his first intrusion almost gone by now as he thrust into her steadily. A little faster, a little deeper he took her with every push, matching the crescendo of the second stanza impeccably. And when his lips began to suck on her pulse point in sync with the press of his thumb on the sensitive little bundle of nerves between her legs, she gave in, handing herself over into his heated embrace.

“Yes, that’s it,” he praised as he could feel her tighten around his fingers for the first time and his appreciation for her beginning rapture sent a lightning bolt of such intensity through her core that her clouded mind almost missed out on the fact that his voice hadn’t taken the usual way through her ear to get inside her head.

But she didn’t fight the occupation of her mind. She had tried so hard to fight off the God of the Underworld from the moment he had appeared on her doorstep, but with every little endeavour of defence, he had doubled his efforts, breaking her walls brick by brick, until he left her no choice but to surrender—to him, to his passion and to his every whim. She was his now, body and soul. And so she did as he had requested and let the music take hold of her.

Dilegua, o notte! Tramontate, stelle! Tramontate, stelle!

“Feel the music.”

All’alba, vincerò!

“Give in.”

Vincerò!

“Let it posses you.”

Vincerò!

She cried out in unmatched ecstasy as, in tune with the aria, she reached her fortissimo, clenching down on his fingers with force while her own drilled into his massive thigh and shoulder, fingernails penetrating his skin through the dark fabric of his smoking. She could hear his roar of pain inside her head, and yet he refused to stop his movements, ignoring the violent shaking of her body likewise while he continued his favour.

The end came as sudden as the abrupt finish of the cadenza and he pulled out in one swift tug, her mouth flying open in a silent uproar. All around them, people broke out into frenetic applause, some even jumping from their seats in exaltation. But Eliza didn’t notice any of that, her eyes glued to the pair of fingers the god swayed in front her face. They glistened enticingly as the light broke in the moisture of her dewy release, hypnotising her as much as him, and the spell only broke when he let them disappear between his lips. She could hear his moans in her mind loud and clear while he feasted on her juices, forcing her insides to constrict so savagely that she almost fainted from the sensation.

With a fierce grin he drew his fingers from his mouth, looking her straight in the eye when he tilted his wrist to offer them to her now. He must have thought she would refuse his generous gift because his eyes widened in surprise as her lips closed around his long digits. The rich taste of her own high made her go feral, sucking his fingers deeper into her mouth and Hades didn’t need to read her mind to know she would rather like to feel the delicious weight of his cock on her tongue instead.

There was a darkness to her eyes that he had never seen there before, sucking him in with an unbreakable might and he knew there was only one way to spare him from losing himself in them without recall. And so he exchanged his fingers for his lips and tongue, letting her kiss consume him instead of her eyes, still a dangerous venture, but far less dangerous than gazing right into her soul at the risk of finding himself at home there.

He moved slowly, deliberately, memorising the taste of her while he turned her frenzy into an unhurried exchange of endearment. Gradually he could feel her agonising grip on him softening until her hands retreated from his body altogether.

Hades drew away in surprise, almost prone to protest. Sure, he had wanted her to calm down, but he would never willingly deprive himself of her touch. And to his horror, she increased the distance even further and rose from her seat. The opera suddenly forgotten, she took a few steps backwards, her eyes never leaving his, sending him a silent message he failed to decipher, before she turned and vanished through the door.

For a second he was unable to do anything but stare perplexedly as a wave of emotions washed over him. What had gotten into her? Had he done anything to offend her? Had he hurt her? Or worst of all, had she finally realised who he truly was?

Whatever it was, he needed to find out. He couldn’t just let her leave like this. And so he jumped to his feet and hurried to follow her. By the time he reached the head of the stairs he barely just caught sight of the dark fabric that flew down the last flight of stairs before it disappeared from view. He would never get to her in time before the darkness of the night had swallow her, and in his desperation he did what all gods did and cheated.

Without even the smallest of sounds, his impressive form manifested right outside the entrance. Intently his ears tried to pick up the swishing of her skirt or her elaborated breaths, but the fear that he had overdone it and scared her away for good disturbed his concentration. With a heartfelt sigh, he was almost inclined to capitulate, when a faint shimmer caught his eye.

His head snapped to his left, eyes narrowing and there she was, only a few steps away. An alleviated smile curved his lips and for a short moment he congratulated himself on his excellent idea of choosing the diamond beaded dress, even if he hadn’t known back then that it would pay off like this.

Slowly he passed the first column. She didn’t move. Then the second. And again, she chose to stand still and watch. At least that was what he guessed since her face was completely unreadable in the shadows of the pillars.

He slowed his pace, afraid she might run if he got too close and as if she had listened in on his thoughts, she drew back. Just a step, but it was enough to make his heart skip a beat. His open hands shooting out to assure her that he meant no harm, he was fully prepared to apologise and beg her forgiveness by now, when she reached out for him, grabbed his hand and pulled him deeper into the shadows.

She refused to stop until they had rounded a corner, the entrance now out of view, but then she turned to face him again. Carefully she took another step back, his hand gliding out of hers in the process. Could it be nothing more than a wicked game she was playing with him, pulling him close and then pushing him away? And if so, had she become foolish enough to think she could win or had she simply taken a potentially fatal liking to danger?

With a need that sent an electrifying shiver down his spine, she whispered his name into the crisp night air as her back sank against the solid stone behind her. He ached to hold her, caress her, kiss her, whatever she desired, but for the first time he found himself completely in the dark about her wants and needs.

She sighed his name again, her hands darting down to part her dress, revealing her silky legs to him—and her glistening womanhood.

“I need you, my lord.”

The hunger in her voice took him off guard, even more so as it matched his own. And still he didn’t give himself permission to sate it. He had imagined their first union quite differently, in the privacy of his bedchamber, where their passion would be shielded from prying eyes so she could give herself to him without reserve and he could reward her surrender with the pleasure she deserved. There would be no room for regret after their coupling, he would make sure of that. But this, this was primal, reckless, predisposed to cause the remorse he wanted to avoid at any cost.

“No.”

“No?” He watched her stiffen as his rejection sank in like a knife, but although it angered her now, she would thank him for it later. With a huff, the fabric she had gathered in her hands fell back into place to hide the tempting view once more. Hades couldn’t quite believe that it had been this simple to make her obey his wish and he knew that his elation had been too hasty when she turned and made to leave.

“Eliza.” He barely stopped himself from adding a distressed, “Don’t leave me.” But somehow he managed to turn it into an irritated, “Where are you going?” instead.

And when she showed no inclination to stop and answer him, his hand shot out to clutch her wrist in an unrelenting grip. With a deathly glare she stared down at the shackle that kept her in place before her eyes flew up to direct her rage straight at her captor.

“I am going to find someone who is willing and able to fuck me. Shouldn’t be too hard on a Saturday evening and in a dress like this, don’t you think?”

“No.”

He had given it his lowest, most threatening growl and still she had the audacity to roll her eyes at him.

“That word again. But let me tell you something, Lord Hades,” the venom in her voice as she stressed his title stung more than he liked to admit, “you might be the God of the Dead, but last time I checked, I was still alive. So you can’t give me orders like one of your subjects.”

She wouldn’t be alive for long if she chose to continue angering him like this.

“We have a contract.”

“Believe me, I’m more than aware of that. But since I let you finger me in front of the whole opera house tonight, I guess I fulfilled my part of our contract for today. So, if you could let go of me now. I need to find a man who does remember the word yes when I ask him to put his dick inside me.”

Never. She was his. Only his. And he didn’t even want to imagine her in another’s arms, writhing in desire while the bungler got to defile what rightfully belonged to a god.

With a furious roar, he pulled her back against the pillar, slamming her into the massive structure and pushing the air from her lungs effectively. He didn’t care about the ugly sound that cut through the air when he extended the slit in her dress with force, she could keep it as a reminder of his claim on her and if she would finally start behaving, he might even consider buying her a new one.

She gasped as the cold night air hit her piping hot sex and he was quick to silence her with his mouth. There was no tenderness in the way he forced her lips to open for him, conquering her with his tongue as a foretaste of what was yet to come. Her back arching off the pillar, she pressed her chest against his, wrapping her arms around his neck when she accepted his invitation to battle.

There was no time to waste, making her understand that she belonged to him—and only him—was paramount now. Freeing himself from the restraints of his trousers, he yanked her leg up around his hip and sheathed himself in one slick motion.

Eliza screamed into his mouth and he answered her with an equally frantic grunt. He allowed himself no time to enjoy the tightness of the first thrust, setting a brutal pace from the very beginning, taking her rough and fast. He was burning with desire for her, and the lewd curses that echoed through her head told him it was the same fire that threatened to consume her as well.

Without a warning, she clenched down on him hard, making him break the kiss as his head flew back in rapture.

“Look at me,” she pleaded in utter despair, her hands cupping his cheeks. But he couldn’t. He knew what awaited him there and as much as he yearned to complete their fate, it would only cause destruction and misery. And so his head dove down into the crook of her neck, sucking on her delicious skin until her hold on him softened.

“Why doesn’t he want to look at me?”

The anguished question ghosted through her mind, torturing her even more than the overwhelming pleasure his brisk fucking brought her and he decided he wouldn’t tolerate an unnecessary distraction like this. So he sped up his hips while he grabbed her behind with both hands and pulled her against him to hit even deeper with every thrust.

She cried out his name as his plan proved to be successful and coaxed her high from her abruptly. Hades was completely unprepared for the powerful force that surged through her, entirely out of control, and took hold of him as well without effort.

“You’re mine,” he growled as the world began to spin around him, and with one last thrust that made her keen in his arms, he emptied himself inside of her, marking her as his.

“You’re mine.”

Part 6

***

Tag List: please let me know if you want to be removed or added by either ask or DM - thank you!

@summersong69 @myloveforhenrycavill @dorothea-hwldr @omgkatinka @ashesofblackroses @amberangel112 @madbaddic7ed @icarusblinders @zealoushound @asuni921 @endofalldays01 @nerra75 @indigosaurus @nowyouseeme098 @cap-just-said-language @miss-rebel-without-applause @wheretheriversrunintothesea @maan24 @mochionly @introvertedmouse @sofiebstar @kebabgirl67 @marytudorbrandon @agniavateira @enchantedbytomandhenry @lumiousmoon @tumblnewby @crazybutconfidentaf @wonderlandfandomkingdom @calwitch @cynic-spirit @aubageddon91

[sebille]

alright queen i'll bite. sell me on gta rp. where do i start. who is the best.

oh jesus god have mercy LMFAO this will be SO LONG I mean COUGHS OKAY SO HEY GALS HEY PALS!! DO YOU ENJOY SOAP OPERAS?? Well, what about soap operas where most of the actors don't know how to act and also HAVE GUNS? Well, maybe gta5 rp is just for you! ((I genuinely started watching it bc it popped up in my twitch recs and I couldn't believe that it was an actual thing people were watching and instantly got sucked into it. It's.........so much fun. The characters are so good. The streamers are all so good. It's my cringe hobby and I love it SO MUCH.)) First things first: What is nopixel? Here's a beginners guide to nopixel if that's something you're interested in reading. There are plenty of other RP servers but I only watch people who play on that one bc IMO it's a much more fun experience when you're able to recognize people around the city and learn character dynamics etc. There's no big overarching story happening, so everything is up to the players. Some have bigger stories happening for their characters/gangs, and some just kinda go about their day and RP when RP is presented to them. Which is nice, because that allows you to watch plenty of streamers and still be able to understand what's happening lol. There's actually a wiki for the server and its characters, so if you're ever curious on what's going on or see the backstory for a character without having to watch through hours upon hours of old VODS, there may be some info on the wiki if you're lucky. (More popular streamers and characters get more content obviously.) And a reddit page for clips, which I like to scroll through sometimes if I want a TLDR of what's happened on the server that day lol. Who should you watch? There's honestly a streamer for everyone. The server is ALWAYS active because ...time zones. I've found a lot of people I watch through watching other streamers, or just scrolling through the gta5 category on twitch. Some people watch criminals only, some people will only watch cops, civilians, whatever. It takes some time to find who's right for you. You can find the link to every streamer on their character's wiki page! People take their characters and their stories very seriously, and spend a lot of time on them and on making content for the server.  Examples: songs and music videos interviews interviews I'll just talk about some streamers I watch and link you their characters wiki pages + a clip for some VIBES. PENTA Randy Wrangler aka the most hated cop on the server lmao. Def not everyone's cup of tea. I think he's great. My favourite character on the server BY FAR. Mike Block who's....a gangsta, yo. He's great. He's a lot. Just watch the video bc that's the whole character lmao. BazzaGazza Barry Benson. He's a part of the Bondi boys & babes motor club. V chill, v enjoyable to watch. I don't have much to say but here's a clip! TheChief1114 Fingle Dan. Fingle is a huge meme. His streams are always very light hearted and fun. Timmac. Plays one of my favourite cops T.J. Mack. He's always very kind and mature which is rare. Super chill. vid. Random recs I don't have much to say about but OBV i'm recommending them for a reason: Kyle LunaOni Moosebrother Crystalst Whippy Ssaab Rerolldota Jennybeartv Aleks Hobbittrash UUUUUUUUUUH YEAH I guess that's that on that. I'll leave you with one of my personal favourite clips HAVE A GREAT NIGHT PLEASE JOIN ME IN THIS HYPERFIXATION

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia CH.4

WARNING OF DEPICTION OF A PANIC ATTACK and mentions of drugging. 

////////

The rest of the day went by pretty uneventfully. That is after Nate lectured you about stranger danger and how you couldn't just walk forty miles in two hours. You really have no clue how you messed up the math that bad or how calling Nate for a ride never crossed your mind. Nate made you promise not to get into another stranger's car, especially without knowing their fucking names.

“I mean seriously YN, you just hopped in their car because they had a dog?! That's literally the first thing they tell you not to do when you learn about stranger danger!” he said munching on a boston cream donut. It was a good thing you'd brought donuts because you caused this man to stress eat...or was that a bad thing?

After you agreed to having better stranger danger instincts, Nate told you things would be run a little differently around the shop. Apparently the camera out back had died on Sunday, which although weird could be explained away as a camera that hasn't been updated or switched out since the shop was opened, maybe even before then too. So unfortunately Big Jo and Nate still didn't know who broke into your car or if they had been looking for anything. But Big Jo still wants to take precautions like the two of you leaving together and in the morning one of you waiting in their car with the doors locked for the other to come and then entering the building together.

Nate also mentioned a few other things, shipping and inventory related, that wouldn't really pertain to you or change any of your current tasks. It's really just to limit the amount of people coming through the back room. The back room was the emptiest you've ever seen when you went to check on your deer skull. You wonder if you hadn't been hired who would've gotten this position and how long they'd be able to keep their mouth shut about the obviously illegal activity going on. But you remember the person who had this position before you had been Bambi, a sweet if not oblivious girl. So, had you not come along the Cowells would have probably found someone else who didn't have an ounce of perception for their surroundings.

The week goes by slowly and with no further incidents. The deer skull has been completed and you plan on taking it to Maddie's Workshop next week to get a mount for it. In the time that you were bleaching and polishing the bones Nate took it upon himself to clean around the shop. Even though he's made it clear you just have to do your task list here, which takes about an hour maybe two depending on the tasks, he's always working on something.

Nate's the type of guy who's never content to just chill he needs to keep moving always chasing that high you get from accomplishing a goal, whatever he's made his that day. He's probably just substituting whatever he did daily with these new deep cleans of his.

Even with the lack of incidents following your car's break in the two of you have kept to the new precautions. Nate even going so far as to remind you tonight that on Monday if you arrive before him you'll need to stay in the car. At this point you think it's less about safety and more about the security of the store's extra curricular activities. Either way you don't really mind.

Things seemed to return to normal, you were back to driving yesterday and after you rearranged furniture in your house you felt a little less on edge. And every night this week you'd been able to get a good night's sleep, which although not too strange did stand out to you. Maybe another thing that had kept you on edge this week, because it meant when you saw a shadow pass by you during the day you couldn't write it off as quickly as you normally would.

But tonight it seemed your luck had run out. You sat on your bed with your sketch book in hand just doodling strange squiggles till your eyes were so tired they couldn't focus. Putting the book down to rest your eyes and crack your wrist, you sigh not feeling tired at all. The thought of a hike isn't really appealing right now, plus if you made a run into the mini mart you'd probably see either Ronnie or even Tim working behind the counter, that thought set your ears a flame. While the night life in Kepler was decent especially for a Friday night in summer, you just felt the need to be alone.

A drive was the best answer you had. You'd just choose a random lane on the interstate and take a random exit till you found a diner or something, order a tea and a slice of pie. Like you were a background character in someone else's story longingly staring out the window as your dreams slowly slipped through your fingers in this cold cruel world. Ok, you'd been joking about that because you saw a TikTok saying that, but your melodramatic ass actually thinks that sounds fun.

Throwing on some jeans and a flannel over you muscle tee, you were out the door. When you were checking the lock you'd heard rustling coming from around the house where your bins were. Worse case it's a stalker, best case just some raccoons. Either way you decided to calmly but briskly walk to your car, locking the doors immediately. Once in you drove around the side of your house, luckily, you assume, you spot the chonkiest raccoon you've ever seen digging through the bins. His tiny little person hands drawing an awww from you even though his demonic gleaming eyes should send a chill down your spine.

Hissing at the car Chonk returns to dig through your garbage. Weird how he only comes on your pizza weeks. Probably has a thing for Leo's homemade pizzas. You sure as hell do, as much as you love it you do save a slice for this little guy. You haven't put it out yet though, eh you'll do it tomorrow.

Having solved that mystery you sit in your car and link up your phone so you can have your driving playlist. It's mainly Folk Punk and Sea Shanties and while most might say it's a weird combination you say it's the same genre just different fonts. You could drive hundreds of miles into the middle of no where listening to this playlist and you'd be just fine...maybe have an emotional break down or two but expressing your emotions is suppose to be good for you. Mouthing along to Jim Bogart as it comes through the stereo you set off on your little excursion.

Just like when you have the urge to hike at night the urge to drive is nearly one in the same. Momentum taking you forward and not looking back as you do, needing to just go forward with no real destination in mind. Tonight however would be a little different you'd stop at the first diner you see that's out of Kepler bounds. Or turn right back around at one in case you hadn't found anything. There've been times that you kept driving straight through morning and didn't know where the hell you ended up. Not to mention you rarely remember the ways to get back after going for so long, and gps can only get you so far in some of the towns that also border the Monongahela Forest. You'd just have to rely on dumb luck tonight.

Unlike hiking, which gives you a burst of adrenaline as you push your body to its limits to move as far as you can and as much as you can. Driving gives a much more relaxed feeling, it's a feeling a weightlessness that gets lighter and lighter the further you get from home. Some may describe that feeling as a wanderlust or nomadic calling, but you've never cared for either of those things. You've only ever wanted to stay in one place for as long as you could remember. Moving around so much in your youth really messed you up, and you promised yourself this would be the last time you uprooted your life. And you've really come to love Kepler in these past few months. You can't imagine how you'll feel next year after getting to know the community more, but so far it's been really compassionate and understanding, a few rocky spots here and there but nothing like your hometown.

Without realizing it you've picked up your speed, you're doing 75 in a 55 zone. Even with no other vehicles around you slow down to just above the speed limit. While there might not be any cops around looking for easy tickets you don't want to risk dissociating at 75MPH or more. That could only end horribly. Though dissociating behind the wheel at all would be horrible. In the middle of shaking yourself from these thoughts you catch sight of an exit sign, which holds the logo for Denny's on it, and the exit is coming up in five miles. Switching lanes you cross over and get ready to hop off on the next exit.

You're pretty sure the only pie Denny's has is the dry apple with a scoop of ice cream. That isn't very appetizing to you, but then again you aren't really a fan of pie, a fact you seemed to gloss over when you made the decision to drive out here this late at night. Not too bothered by the fact, you remember Denny's has a salted caramel and banana pancake which should work in place of pie.

Pulling into the parking lot there are only three other cars, peering into the diner you don't really see anyone so the cars must belong to the skeleton night crew. Entering the Denny's you see there actually is one other patron, you only see the back of his head as he makes no move to look at the new arrival.

“Hun, seat yourself, I'll be out in a bit.” is the motherly voice that rings out from the kitchen, truly something you've only experienced in the south. Walking into a diner in the dead of night and  being treated like a daytime regular.

Seating yourself near the TV mounted to the wall you let the sounds of the soap opera playing drown out any buzzing you feel in your head. The waitress is out within minutes and though she startles at your masked face she regains her composure very quickly.

“I'd like the salted caramel pancakes if it's alright.” you say declining the offered menu.

“Just the pancakes?”

“Ah, yes please. And water's fine too.” it really pays to know the menu prior to coming in. Gives you ample time to run scripts over in your head.

Viv, the name on her name tag, nods and gives you a smile as she spins right round to the kitchen. Probably happy she won't have to run out so many times for just one order or maybe to spend time with the cooks in the back. You remember working food service sucked but the line cooks made it so much better at the end of the day. Even if they said you were too quiet and called you 'mouse'.

It might not have been exactly what you set out to do but this little midnight self date was really nice, you should do this more often.

Pancakes finished and mask back on you waited for Viv to bring out your check,  then you notice the other patron also making his moves to leave. You're sat facing the door so when he turns and comes closer dread fills your veins like burning cold dry ice. It's David, a local from Kepler you briefly met when you first moved. He gave you really bad vibes and over all was just a very skeevy dude.

What made you feel worse about him was when he left town to “help his sister” right after Bambi disappeared. Those in your circle told you she always talked about leaving Kepler one day but you trusted your gut in saying she didn't leave by her own choice. It got made for her, and David leaving just furthered your theory. You look away hoping he hadn't noticed you but unfortunately you could hear his footsteps falter and then pick back up by passing the door completely.

“Hey...YN, right?” fuck he remembers you, alarm bells are ringing at this fact. Why would he remember someone he briefly met months ago?

“It really is you, still as quiet as I remember.” what did he mean the two of you only met a handful of times and that had been because of your mutual friendship with Bambi.

Where is Viv with the check? You'd really like if she saved you from this painful situation right now. But you aren't sure what's worse having to sit here and listen to David tell you everything he's been up to these past few months, like you even care. Or the thought of leaving with David having him follow you and maybe doing whatever he did to Bambi to you.

“Yea so my sister's better now, I should be seeing you around soon. We should catch up maybe do Saturday Night Dead. Does the Crypt still do that?” great a fucking rhetorical question, he knows the Cryptonomica still does it's weekly movie nights, it's only been two months he's been gone. Not to mention it's a big hit and a huge source of revenue for the shop.

You haven't said anything this whole time, fuck being polite to a potential killer, and fuck being polite to this creep. He's just been talking nearly nonstop for the last few minutes. He must really love the sound of his own voice or thinks he's the most charming person to ever grace the Earth with his presence. Since he's not really caring that you aren't proving to be a stimulating partner in this conversation. He really does love hearing himself talk. By the time he's said his own goodbyes Viv finally makes it out from the back.

She apologizes for the wait, had to go on her break sometime you supposed. You take your time finding your wallet, it's in your back pocket but you wanted to stall for time since you could still see David's car out there, you were also keeping an eye on your own car. Only relaxing when you saw him pull off from the corner of your eye. Oh look you've “found” your wallet,  handing Viv your credit card you just want to get out of here quickly now.

You pay and leave a nice tip for Viv, while she didn't save you from that creep it's not like she could've known. You sit in your car for a moment or two just breathing in and out in the glow of the diner lights. Almost meditating before you begin your long drive back to Kepler with all these thoughts of David, Bambi's disappearance, and how it can't be coincidence that David is coming back at the same time that you have a break in. Could you be his next target? Were you just over thinking things? Just blaming this poor guy because you didn't like him? But you've always been intuitive and bad vibes aren't something to ignore. David appearing now meant something.

Just that thought alone put you on edge as your skin begins to crawl. With a few calming breaths you go to start the car and sync your radio when you notice the glow of the lights changed from the slight yellow to a sterile blueish white. Looking up where the diner should be you see the mini mart back at Kepler...how on earth did you get here? You didn't drive! You couldn't have dissociated while driving, you never even turned the car on and you can barely take a hike dissociating let alone do something as complex as drive a car.

It happens before you can register it, on shaky legs that move on their own you are passing the threshold of the convenience store and catching the tail end of a conversation.

“ppened to not feeding into delus...” the voice cuts off as the door shuts behind you. You know that voice why is it so hard to focus?

Something warm brushes your hand and you see someone in front of you. Who is that? You can't see their face, they've got a mask covering their face. Like you but that person is not you. You might know them...Tobais?

“Yea? You good there?” confusion, you blink hard and see you are standing in the mini mart now, Connor standing under your hand, Toby hovering close by and both Brian and Tim watch with unease over by the register.

“...I don't know how I...how I got here.” you register movement in the background but not consciously.

It's the shifting of Brian's head as he looks out the front windows and spots your Kia.

“You drove.” shaking your head, “Maybe...I don't...I dissociated?” in your confusion you can register Toby stiffen in front of you.

Fear, fear, uneasy, breath....are you breathing? Your head's so jumbled right now.

You scan the shop trying to look for answers that may help you but you find none. The more confused you get the more worked up you get, chest rising and falling rapidly. You take a step back or try to and end up falling on your butt. It's starting to get hard to breathe with your throat constricting, you bring a hand up to your larynx.

“..re.....have..attack......”

        “could be o...me..”

“.....pressure...”

Is all you can make out with your fuzzy consciousness before a heavy pressure is piling on your chest and knocking you fully on your back. The pressure is actually pretty lifting as contradictory as it may seem. Instead of restricting your breathing more it seems to be kick starting your lungs to exhale and inhale. With oxygen coming back into your body you can feel your toes and the tingle behind them. You can feel your fingers and the fur under them. Fur?

Taking in a big breath you move your head and come face to muzzle with Connor.  You give a nod of recognition to the dog before lying flat again and staring up at the ceiling. After about ten minutes you're thinking more clearly than before, which isn't saying much.

“Thanks.” you aren't sure who it's directed at but you still mean it.

It's silent until Toby breaks it, “I'm taking you home.”

“Car.” it's all you can manage to say but the message though distorted got through.

“I'll drive it, Brian follow behind.” there is no room for arguing, driving under any influence must be a touchy subject for Toby. Or maybe you're really fucked up right now and just can't comprehend how bad.

You use Connor to get up, he seems ready and no one else makes a move to you. Toby pushes past and holds the door open as Connor guides you, still holding onto his vest with one hand, and Brian murmurs something to Tim before following you three.

Outside Toby already has your keys in his hand, when did he get those? Did you give them to him? Your hand is risen, you must of...how on earth did you even drive like this. Had you really driven? There's a lump in your throat again and you're breathing's gone shaky, god you hope you didn't hurt anyone. You must have been zoning out for too long, not only is Connor pushing your legs but Toby has a grasp on your forearm coaxing you forward.

His grip isn't suffocating, honestly even seeing it there you still don't feel it. Maybe it's because you're so numb, or maybe it's because he's genuinely helping you but you can't feel the pain that  usually comes with being touched. The sharp jab that feels like you've been struck with a fire poker where ever someone laid their hands on you. After he's pushed you into the backseat, more like nudged you, even making sure you didn't bump your head, he buckles you in then snaps and Connor jumps into the car and lays across your lap.

You're shaking, actually trembling as you look at Toby. What's going on? Why can't you figure out what's happening? The brunette doesn't say a thing as he gets into the driver's seat and buckles in to drive you home. That's strange you think, how does he know where to go? You told him right, just follow the road...or maybe he guessed from the other day. What happened to you? Why the mini mart? You were at Denny's.

“This town doesn't have a Denny's.” did you say that out loud?

“I...I went for a drive, a town over...up...no.. north I think...” you start blinking barely able to keep your eyes open before your eyes lock shut. It's sending you over the edge even more in your confusion.

“Hey, hey just focus on the Denny's. What'd you do once you got there?” is he trying to distract you? Calm you down? Or is he trying to piece together what happened like you are? You can remember Denny's just fine, the dull yellow glow of the inside the skeleton crew murmuring in the back, the pancakes you had, and the “conversation” with David. Did David do this, had he put something in your water glass? Did you even touch your water glass after he left? Breathe. You need to breathe. Toby's waiting.

“Pancakes...I had pancakes. Then that creep came over...and he started talking. Didn't like. We aren't friends, I don't know him. I don't understand why he'd talk to me. Didn't like. Didn't like.” finger back to pressing down on your larynx and the weight of Connor preventing your legs from striking out at the seat in front of you.

“Wait, were you drugged?” Eyes flash to the rear view to lock with your own teary stare.

“No, maybe...I don't think so.” you barely feel the pain in your throat right now, this is all so overwhelming. “He left, I...I watched him drive off before getting in my car... I had an episode while the car was off then..” then you were at the mini mart. You never touched the ignition.

“I didn't drive, I never started the car. Didn't, didn't, didn't” Your attack is probably stressing even Connor out now, but this is all so confusing.

You're so focused on the fuzzy events you don't notice Toby bristle. Or how he grips the steering wheel tighter until his knuckles grow white despite his already translucent skin. He might not be able to feel or see it in the mirror through his mask but he's probably gnawing off more of his face. He'd deal with it after he dealt with you.

You've made it to your house and he's waiting for the headlights from Brian. When he sees them in the rear view he gets out but not before telling you, or maybe Connor, to stay put.

It's a few long moments before he comes back. But in the silence and darkness of your car, growing colder by the moment, you start to ground yourself. You aren't calm by any means and you're still very unfocused. But you aren't crying as the numbness overtakes you, you don't even jump when the door beside you opens. With a snap Connor is out of the car and soon you're being pulled from the car, that same weightless touch gripping your forearm. Toby guides you into your own home, and walks towards the hallway looking into the bathroom, the only other door, before finding your room.

Seemingly understanding your catatonic state he sits you on the bed and gives some order to Connor before he leaves the room. And you just sit on the bed staring into dead air as a silent guard sits in wait. You aren't sure what he's waiting for or why he's still there but the numbness has taken over too much and you can't find it in you to give a single fuck.

[tatyana-dreaming]

Eugene Onegin: Finale Analysis

*apologies in advance for a LONG POST! any TYPOS! and also that the Russian has been latinized (is that what we say?)*

I have often read opinions and observations about the finale of Eugene Onegin along the lines of “there’s no new theme;” it’s “not as intense as the Letter scene;” it’s “anticlimactic...” etc. (those last two comments are found in Eugene Onegin: The Opera Lively Guide by Luiz Gazzola).

Clearly, these are just opinions and I’m not here to disprove anything... but I am here to retaliate with a whole lot of love for this particular 14 minutes of music so buckle up :) I’m going to try to mainly be objective here and just offer my observations/analysis. Maybe you’ll find some newfound appreciation along the way...and please pitch in if you have your own comments or have noticed things I haven’t necessarily picked up on!

Before we start, you may want to pull a recording of the finale (this one is my favorite of course), and potentially your favorite CD/recording of Eugene Onegin, if you want to listen along and compare. If I had more time and skills I would have done this for you in a video or added trimmed audio bits throughout this post but alas. Maybe one day! For now, enjoy these screencaps from the 2007 Carsen production at the Met with Fleming and Hvorostovsky.

1. Gazzola points this out in his book - and thank goodness, because I’m not sure I would have made the connection myself. The final scene opens with a motif that is more or less a repetition of Gremin’s theme (in rhythm, at the very least), “Lyubvi Vsye Rozrasti Pokorni/Love conquers all ages,’” foreshadowing Tatyana’s decision/steadfastness to the mature, stable love or contement, or whatever we want to call this - we can have an analysis of ‘love’ in Eugene Onegin in another post! Already I’m thinking back to the opening of the opera when Larina and Filipyevna sing in unison “Privichka svishe name dana, zamyena shchastiyu ona / Habit is sent us from above in place of happiness.” Tatyana’s mother used to read and dream like Tayana herself and was even in love, but eventually had to marry someone else and “became resigned and settled down.”

And as @lizlensky​ recently reminded me, of course Filipyevna did not get to marry for love either, not that Tatyana was really listening to her story. In fact, maybe I’m looking far into deeply, but it seems to me the strings underneath this “Gremin motif” at the opening of the finale and also when Tatyana eventually sings to that tune “Onegin, ya togda molozhe/Onegin, I was younger then”  are also mimicking the strings underneath Filipyevna when she sings the morning after the Letter Scene, explaining how her mind is getting older and reflecting upon her youth (I’m generalizing a bit - Tatyana certainly isn’t complaining about having an old brain but she is thinking of the past). Make of that what you will! But it gave me chills.

2. Oh no, I’m already getting ahead of myself though. Before Onegin even comes on the scene, we also hear what some call the “Fate motif” but what I prefer to call the “Dream motif” (if it is fate, why does it follow Tatyana all over dreamy Act I but disappears except for this tiny reminiscence? But of course, up for discussion as it’s the prelude/introduction to the opera, and it comes back when Yevgeni does, haunting her like a ghost, which I suppose is fate-y). Here it is again when Tatyana sings “Kak budto snova dyevochkoi ya stala/It’s as if I’m a young girl again” - which is then followed by what I might personally call the fate theme, since it foreshadows the anguish Tatyana will face when she is rejected in Act I, and before she rejects Onegin in Act III.

This is where I wish I had an audio clip but I think you know what I mean; it’s the really dramatic climax that comes right when Tatyana enters the stage in Scene 3 of Act III (before “Zdyez on, zdyes on, Yevgeni!”) and right before Onegin comes onstage in Act III, Scene 2. Or ha, maybe this is just “Onegin’s Arrival Theme” since there’s a similar kind of orchestral panic before he arrives in Act I (though of course, not in Scene 1 of Act III since it is Tatyana who enters rather than Onegin who was in the room already, at least in the productions I’ve seen.)

3. Okay, so now Onegin’s here, what does he have to say for himself? We hear a bit of the Onegin aria theme -  “Mechtam i godom nyet vazvrata, nye obnovlyu dushi moyei/Dreams and years cannot return, I cannot renew my soul!” as he (in some versions) falls to Tatyana’s feet, exclaiming “O, szhaltes, szhaltes nado mnoyu!/ Have mercy on me!”  Clearly has some srs regerts. But also perhaps Tchaikovsky foreshadowing what is to come... not only that we shouldn’t expect Tatyana to act with any less honor (or prudence/reason) towards Onegin as he did towards her in Act I, and that indeed she sings “proshlogo nye vorotit/you cannot bring back the past.”  I know I’m grinding a lot out of this particular moment, but... would you expect anything less from me? Or (thinks of Petya) HIM? :)

4. As Tatyana reminds Onegin how he rejected her and begins to question why he is suddenly in love with her now, we get to revisit some of the music from the Letter Scene - at least in the orchestra. Tatyana’s line differs slightly than her original melody in the Letter Scene when she sings “Togda, nye pravda li pustine, vdali ot suyetnoi molvi/There in that backwater, far from vain society” - and just so, as it is far from its dreamy, romantic parallel in her letter - “Y v eto samoye mgnovyenye ne ti li, miloye vidyenye/And in that very moment, wasn’t it you, beloved vision [...who whispered to me words of hope].” I find this throwback incredibly clever and gutwrenching, as I believe it’s clearly a bitter and ironic jab at the hope that Onegin crushed, even honorably as he did, and now the two of them have changed positions. Whose dreamy hopes (which are... questionable at best at the moment) are getting schooled now? Cmon’ Onegin, “learn to control yourself....”

5. Let me take a moment to admit and agree with many analyses/critics (although Tchaikovsky knows what he is doing, convince me otherwise) that Onegin is pretty fragmented and lacks a coherent theme, and certainly has no original “love theme” of his own to offer Tatyana  - after all, Onegin as a character, especially in the book, is pretty hollow, someone who isn’t so much a “self’ as a person who knows how to go through the motions of life... He’s intelligent but not creative, full of potential but lacking any real direction. (Ohhh I am going to cry because that’s so sad but also so relatable, but crying is coming up next so I’ll hold off). The opposite of Lensky’s “poet spirit” that lives life romantically, and is in love with life itself, seeing the infinite everywhere rather than seeing life so pessmistically (with the mask of pragmatism/”maturity”) as Onegin does, a mask that keeps Onegin from truly engaging with life or his own sense of self.

So as Onegin sings, we hear that lack of originality, though I will pull a Valery Gergiev here and say one “cannot be impartial” to Onegin’s music here (*clutches chest - that’s Tchaikovsky, even though I think it’s clear Onegin is not his fav) - Onegin may not be original, but there is no less truth or heartfelt emotion in what comes through. Luckily, Tatyana knows that it’s still not a good choice... he’s still not very substantial, at best, and at worst truly is only infatuated with her because of her reputation. It would mean ruin for her either way so :( (read: Anna Karenina) (here are some sad Onegin pictures just for fun because it’s all been Tatyana mainly but also: sorry this is Tatyana’s big moment so)

6. Time for tears! Do you hear a familiar theme when Tatyana sings “Ya plachu/I’m weeping?” It’s Lensky’s aria theme making a comeback- what!??! And particularly, the same melody as these two phrases, when Lensky sings: “Shto dyen gradushchi mnye gotovit/What does this day hold for me?” and perhaps more salient to this moment: “Pridyosh li, dveya krasoti, slezu prolit nad rannei urmoi/ Will you come, maiden, to shed a tear over my untimely urn?” Ahhh, I see what you did there, Petya.

But wait, Onegin hates crying! This isn’t explicitly in the opera of course, but Onegin in the novel all but tells Tatyana that her tears (as he rejects her) only vex him - another reason marriage would be a torment for them (not a bad reason and look, we always respected his honesty, right?). But now? I think it’s a crucial moment; it shows there has indeed been some development on Onegin’s part and uh oh, he’s actually in love (ironically in a very Lensky - that is, poetic - way)  even if it’s not for the best of reasons.

7. Fun (pain) pact: “Tak blizhko! [happiness was] so close!” is the only time Onegin and Tatyana sing together or are on the same page, so to say. Nice. (*cries*) The only other times people sing completely lined up together like this in this opera, choruses aside, are when:

Larina and Filipyevna sing “Privichka svishe name dana, zamyena shchastiyu ona /Habit is sent to us from above in place of happiness”  in the opening scene

Onegin and Lensky sing “Nye zasmeyatsa l nam, poka ne obagrilasa ruka, ne razoitis li polyubovno? Nyet... /Shouldn’t we burst out laughing, rather than staining our hands with blood, shouldn’t we part as friends? No...”  before the duel

Moments of truth. And mostly pain. :) Again, please chime in if there are others, I’m sure I’ve missed something.

8. Time for Tatyana to refuse! This is where I completely disagree that there is “no new major theme” in the Finale; Tatyana’s “rejection theme” holds its own in my books. Interestingly, it’s in D-flat major, just like the main themes in her Letter Scene (”Puskai pogibnu ya/Let me perish,” and “Kto ti? Moi angel/ Who are you? my [guardian] angel..” aka the descending/Russian 6th theme). Tatyana is just as earnest/decided/resigned* (yes, all three of those adjectives) in her decision in the finale as in the Letter Scene, so maybe that has something to do with it. (I always remember her words in the Letter scene: “Uvi, nye v silakh ya vladyet svoyei dushoi!/Alas, I am unable to subdue my soul!” but just like Onegin learning to be endeared by tears - she has indeed learned to subdue her soul, or perhaps she has simply matured and her priorities have changed. (And of course, who lectured her to subdue her soul in the first place, even though he meant well? Yours truly!)

*resigned might seem an interesting way to describe the Letter Scene, but don’t forget “No, tak i bit! Sudbo moyu otnine ya tebye vruchayu/So be it. Henceforth my fate belongs to you....”  I tend to interpret that as Tatyana actually taking her fate into her own hands and deciding to go all in with her decision, despite the words that seem to make her position passive. In the finale, she is ‘resigned’ in a similarly active manner - this is not a passive resignation. But I still would use the term resigned, if only to draw the parallel between Tatyana and her mother....  “I became resigned and settled down.”  And so she has, even if she has to struggle to push Onegin away from the settled life she has, loving him all the same.

And in comes some of my favorite music of all time - Onegin’s desperate, even malicious pleas and a good dose of mansplaining how Tatyana “can’t” abandon him, quoting back her letter. Extra ouch, because do you remember in Tatyana’s letter when she tells Onegin if he has any pity, “vi nye ostavite menya/you won’t abandon me.” And what does she have to beg him to do over and over until she finally runs offstage? “Ostav menya!/Leave me!” heheheheh *laugh-cries*  everything is fine.

9. And we’ve nearly reached the very end. Almost a year into listening to this particular piece of music and I only recently realized what was going on - yeah, I know. When things get really heated at the end and pain reaches a maximum, Tatyana sings “Gluboko v syerdsta pronikayet, yevo otchayanni priziv no, pil prestupni podaviv/His anguished cries penetrate my heart, but the fire of passion has been extinguished” (well, I’m still not quite sure on the ‘correct’ English translation but it doesn’t sound good for Yevgeni regardless...)

That melody in that last line calls us back to its twin sister at the end of Scene 1 in Act I when Onegin is talking about how bored he was with his uncle, waiting for him to die. So a) I hear this as Tatyana “ending things once and for all” (parallels between the death of Onegin’s uncle, and the death of their relationship), as well as possibly (again I read 10,000% too much into things) b) Tatyana realizing that Onegin’s words to her back in the garden were true - habit [routine] would kill their love; they would become bored (or at least he would). The passion would burn out.

Which brings us back to c) heaven sends us habit in place of happiness [=passion?]- which, OH, RIGHT, OF COURSE has the same rhythm of the aforementioned “boredom” theme and “the fire of passion has been extinguished.” But you all probably already realized that because oF COURSE.. that’s how the opera OPENS... and now how it is CLOSING... AHHHH!!!

I know I’m not original or anything for realizing that parallel, but yeah. I’m pretty happy about it.

Tchaikovsky is absolutely genius. Unbelievable. And paired with Pushkin? I’m not surprised I’ve clearly lost my mind over this masterpiece.

Anyways, this was an extremely long post but I hope you enjoyed it immensely, especially if you read this far!! Please chime in with your own comments! I LOVE THIS PIECE OF MUSIC!

[hermionegranger56]

a v late recap of evermore

so i think Taylor Swift sensed that i was Going Through It and was like here you sad bitch, here’s another surprise album to help fix all that. cause good lord evermore is just what i (and i think we all) needed. i truly TRULY can’t believe we’re lucky enough to get a sister album to folklore, i love it so much. the first day it was out i drove myself 2 hours to the very end of the Cape and sat on an empty beach and cried to it and honestly??? magical. here are my thoughts on it that no one asked for:

first, as an overall here, this album complements folklore so well. it’s the spring to folklore’s autumn, it’s self-assured and warm and beautiful. each album shows off her lyrical genius so well and she only grows stronger here. when folklore came out, i was floored because the music was so different for her and so up my alley. each song’s production sucked me in and it was like she was confidently telling us “here is another genre i can work with” (masterfully at that). evermore feels different. it feels like Taylor is so comfortable in this creative space, she isn’t trying to fit into any new molds or expectations, she is just HERE, now, saying “this is who i am and this is my craft”. it’s really been a privilege to watch her grow as an artist. ok. here we go

willow:

god the video was so beautiful, a really good continuation of cardigan. the chorus is so so delicate and prettyyy, thats MY MAN ughhh its so good. it reminds me a lot of invisible string tbh, or if betty from cardigan grew up and found love. this is really one of my favorites, she starts so strong

fave lines: “the more that you say, the less i know/ wherever you stray I follow/ i’m begging for you to take my hand/ wreck my plans, that’s my man”; “life was a willow and it bent right to your wind”

champagne problems:

oh dear god, it’s if all too well and new years day had a baby and it is a MASTERPIECE. i can picture it all, college sweethearts, broken hearts, i feel like its new england at christmas, ivy league old money…its cinematic. and it gets at the feeling like you’ll never be good enough so you leave before that happens (basically before you get to the tolerate it stage??) and OOF. AND GODDAMN THE RANTING BRIDGE (illicit affairs came close on folklore but i think THIS might be the best bridge since All Too Well). I’ve screamed it a lot tbh

fave lines: BRIDGE BABYYYYYY EVERY SINGLE PERFECT WORD. WHAT A SHAME SHES FUCKED IN THE HEADDDD

gold rush:

this one is bright and lovely and catchy!! it reminds me a lot of mirrorball tbh, all like swirly and magical. i can’t even put it into words but i can see this one so clearly. its all rosy and golden

fave lines: “eyes like sinking ships on waters/ so inviting, i almost jump in”; “what must it be like to grow up that beautiful?/with your hair falling into place like dominoes/ I see me padding across your wooden floors/ with my Eagles t-shirt hanging from your door”; “the coastal town we wandered round/ had never seen a love as pure as it”; “my mind turns your life into folklore”

’tis the damn season:

UGH I FUCKING LOVE THIS ONE EVEN THOUGH IT MAKES ME WANNA TEXT MY EX. the melody is SOOOO satisfying, the progression to “write this down”, i’m obsessed. the idea of being home for the holidays and feeling a little lost and tired and nostalgic for what could have been is something superrrr relatable. this song reminds me of snowy drives around my hometown in the best/worst possible way hahah. one of my top 5 for sure.

fave lines: “we could call it even/ you could call me babe for the weekend/ tis the damn season, write this down/i’m staying at my parents house/ and the road not taken looks real good now”; “and wonder about the only soul/ who can tell which smiles i’m faking”

tolerate it:

oh honeyyyyy this track 5 packs a punch, i mean the lyrics are absolutely BRUTAL in the best way. it’s just so sad, and encompasses a lot of my own insecurity about always feeling like you’re more invested in a relationship and watching someone fall out of love or just stop caring. i LOVE the “my love should be celebrated, but you tolerate it”, like bitch YES your love should be celebrated. also taylor sounds angelic on the “I” at the start of the chorus

fave lines: “i know my love should be celebrated/ but you tolerate it”; “i made you my temple, my mural, my sky/ now i’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life”; “what would you do if I/break free and leave us in ruins/ took this dagger in me and removed it”

.

no body, no crime:

YESSSSSSSSS I LOVE THE SUBGENRE OF COUNTRY ABOUT WOMEN KILLING SHITTY HUSBANDS AND THIS SONG IS SO FUCKING GOOD AHHHHH!! I LOVE the beat, i love country taylor, i love the addition of HAIM. UGH ITS SO CATCHYYYY, like i’m obsessed with the slide from “i think he did it but i just. can’t. prove itttttt NOOO no body no crime” UGHHH this is without a doubt in my top five

fave lines: “she thinks i did it but she just can’t prove it”

happiness:

I heard this one described as an emotional marathon and holy shit it is, each line is a sucker punch. i really like how it feels like a conversation and looks at the acceptance and pain that mingle together when a relationship just…ends. her lyrics are unmatched on this album but this is a particularly strong track

fave lines: “i haven’t met the new me yet”; “when did all our lessons start to look like weapons/ pointed at my deepest hurt”; “there is a glorious sunrise/ dappled with the flickers of light/ from the dress i wore at midnight”

dorothea:

this one feels like Betty 2.0 and its so sweet and bright and also kinda sad. it’s wistful!! that’s the word i want, wistful! the vibe is gives off reminds me of Red, like musically. it’s home-y. idk if that makes sense but i like it a lot

fave lines: and if you’re ever tired of being known for who you know/ you know, you’ll always know me”

coney island:

ugh this one is magical, i honestly really love the instrumental to this one, it’s so soothing. the lyrics to me feel like you’re in some dream state, going through every heartbreak you’ve ever been through. I love the addition of The National, the vocals fit together so well (and I like it better than both Bon Iver features i think??)

fave lines: do you miss the rogue/ who coaxed you into paradise and left you there/ will you forgive my soul/ who you’re too wise to trust me and too old to care?”

ivy:

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH (that’s how i feel about this absolute masterpiece oh my GOD) it makes me so incandescently happy, the folk feel, the lyrics that are so cinematic and poetic and paint such a clear picture (to me) of two Victorian lovers who are in unhappy marriages but don’t let that stop their love. the chorus just like….fills my whole chest, the OH GODDAMN hits so different. and i want “my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand” tattooed on me, that is one of her BEST lines and i will die on that hill. its all so pretty, i can’t deal. the vibe also strongly reminds me of a) invisible string and b) Little Women (2019). i think taylor should do folk and uhhhh only folk please

fave lines: EVERY WORD BUT ESPECIALLY: “i’d meet you where the spirit meets the bone/ in a faith forgotten land”; “oh goddamn/ my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand/ taking mine, but its been promised to another/ oh, i can’t/ stop you putting roots in my dreamland/ my house of stone, your ivy grows/ and now I’m covered in you”; “he wants what’s only yours”; “clover blooms in the field/ springs breaks loose, time is near“; ”so yeah, it’s a fire/ its a goddamn blaze in the dark and you started it”

cowboy like me:

ALL RIGHT everyone sleeps on this song but oh my GOD its so good!! it’s smooth and dreamy and gives me that old fashioned, bonnie and clyde type love story and some of the lyrics are so poetic. I really love the addition of the Tim McGraw chords too???? BUT DEAR GOD COULD WE HAVE GIVEN MARCUS MUMFORD MORE OF A ROLE HERE??!! HE SOUNDS WONDERFUL, GIVE HIM A FEATURE, GIVE HIM A WHOLE VERSE. THIS IS A FOLK ALBUM TAYLOR, USE FUCKING MUMFORD AHHHH (i fucking love him omg)

fave lines: “dancin’ is a dangerous game”; “you’re a bandit like me/ eyes full of stars”; “now you hang from my lips/ like the Gardens of Babylon/ with your boots beneath my bed/ forever is the sweetest con”

long story short:

A BOP!! GIVE ME SOME HAPPINESS TAYLOR WOO! I really love how catchy this one is. it feels like her introducing the craziness of her life to joe and being like look all of that was tough but here i am now and I couldn’t be happier. It’s refreshing, self-deprecating and endearing. I couldn’t love it more and it is ALWAYS stuck in my head!

fave lines: “and he’s passing by/ rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky”; “long story short I survived”

marjorie:

ha hahah hah ha this one ENDS me, like dear LORD i need to call my grandma immediately. it is so so GOOD and SAD, like the you don’t know how good something or someone is until they’re gone, but even then, they’re still there with you. I love the grandma wisdom of “never be so clever you forget to be kind” etc. and holy SHIT the addition of Taylor’s grandmother’s opera singing as background vocals is GENIUS AND DEVASTATING, god the part where she goes “i’d think you were singing with me now” and then Marjorie comes in is honestly one of the most beautiful musical moments i’ve heard in a hot minute and it breaks me every time. wow.

fave lines: “never be so polite/ you forget your power/ never wield such power/ you forget to be polite”; “the autumn chill that wakes me up/ you loved the amber sky so much”; “and if i didn’t know better/ i’d think you were singing to me now”

closure:

ok i’m sorry, this is my only skip here. I really do love the lyrics and the idea of, yeah no you don’t deserve closure from me. i just can’t get past the pots and pans beginning, its too chaotic. but i’m sure it’ll grow on me! it does feel like finally moving on and i do love that about it

fave lines: “don’t treat me like/ some situation that needs to be handled”; “i know i’m just a/ wrinkle in your new life/ staying friends would/ iron it out so nice”

evermore:

god her voice is SO soothing in this one, it’s literally hypnotic. the song itself feels wandering and dark at first, like you’re stuck in this depression, and then bon iver comes in and it picks up and it feels like coming out of the trees, into the sunlight and finding your way again. finding that the pain WOULDNT be for evermore like she says. it feels like an ending and a beginning. beautiful

fave lines: “writing letters/ addressed to the fire”; “and when i was shipwrecked/ i thought of you/ in the cracks of light/ i dreamed of you”; “and i was catching my breath/ floors of the cabin creaking under my step/ and i couldn’t be sure/ i had a feeling so peculiar/ this pain wouldn’t be for evermore”

[aion-rsa]

My Universe: BTS & Coldplay’s Sci-Fi Music Video Explained

https://ift.tt/3im7ht2

BTS and Coldplay went fully, gloriously sci-fi in the music video for their collaboration, “My Universe.” In the new music video, released at midnight on September 30th, the two bands exist in a futuristic reality where music is forbidden. In spite of the ban, and with the help of a space DJ, the groups come together for a high-energy, galaxy-spanning performance of their new song.

The “My Universe” music video/short film is directed by Dave Meyers, an American filmmaker best known for his commercials and music videos, which include MVs for artists Drake, Ed Sheeran, Pink, Normani, Ariana Grande, and many, many more. High-concept, genre-driven music videos are par for the course in the visually immersive world of K-pop, but are less common in western music videos, which (save for some outliers, like Janelle Monae’s funky, political sci-fi adventures) have more “grounded,” realistic aesthetics, even when they skew fantastical. A great example of the latter is Harry Styles’ “Adore You” video. Also directed by Meyers—it has a speculative fiction premise in which Styles has a literally blinding smile, falls in love with a fish, and is able to power his sailboat using the winds of his jarred yells, but keeps its visuals down to Earth to tell its fairy tale-like story.

“My Universe,” on the other hand, embraces the science fiction aesthetics of working class space operas like Space Sweepers or Guardians of the Galaxy, with some (and I mean this as a compliment) Zenon: Girl of the 21st Century thrown in for good measure.

Rebellion is a popular theme in the space opera subgenre, and it’s one that “My Universe” embraces. The video is set in an intergalactic future in a place known where all music is banned. Three different bands—BTS, Coldplay, and a fictional alien supergroup called Supernova7—who live on three different plans defy the ban to create music together via hologram. They are hunted by The Silencers, who enforce the no-music status quo.

Most importantly, the music video doesn’t prioritize either Coldplay or BTS’ worlds. While we may visit Coldplay’s dry, graffitied planet first, where we first meet BTS in their holographic forms, we also go to BTS’ industrial-dystopia home, where Coldplay visits as holograms. The music video’s best moment, in fact, comes when we follow a flickering, holographic V from Coldplay’s planet back to his own, where he—and, with him, the six other members—bloom into more tangible form.

Read more

Culture

Squid Game Competitions, As Played By BTS

By Kayti Burt

TV

Did BTS Invent Star Trek?

By Kayti Burt

The design and CGI for the video is impressive and varied, though a little too busy to fully appreciate the stunning outer space visuals, Tron-esque spaceships interiors, and alien planet-scapes. The video includes visual callbacks to the official lyric video for “My Universe,” which is beautifully designed to feature the multi-colored English and Korean-language lyrics zooming through space. The colors and premise are also reminiscent of the video serial that was part of BTS’ Muster Sowoozoo Concert in June. In the story, the seven members of BTS make their way across an alien landscape in a camper van, searching for a safe place to meet ARMY. While the Sowoozoo serial was much cozier and more chill than “My Universe” video, I’d love to hear some good head canon about how these videos exist in the same fictional universe.

What Does the “My Universe” Music Video Mean?

Both the “My Universe” song and music video have a pretty broad, easy-to-get-behind concept. The love song is about a relationship that transcends boundaries. Thematically, the idea of coming together across divisions or differences is particularly poignant when performed by bands from different sides of the planet. This is reinforced by the decision to include Korean-language lyrics in the collaboration. BTS has proven themselves more than capable of singing in English. Three of their latest hits—”Dynamite,” “Butter,” and “Permission to Dance”—are all sung fully in the English language by the Korean band. However, BTS and Coldplay chose to feature Korean-language elements as an integral part of the collaboration, emphasizing the multicultural nature of the song and its message.

The music video doubles down on the theme of people coming together despite distance and differences. In it, BTS and Coldplay (and, OK, alien supergroup Supernova 7) are excited to collaborate. Together, they make something beautiful and special that brings them joy despite the seemingly dismal worlds that surrounds them both. Here, the enemy is not difference, but a mysterious, totalitarian force that has banned all music. Personified by “The Silencers,” this antagonist can be broadly interpreted by the societal prejudices that can sometimes keep up apart, but also by a pandemic that has made the most basic rituals of togetherness more complicated. It doesn’t seem a coincidence that the fictional versions of BTS and Coldplay featured in this video are unable to be together in person. It’s a representation of the forced physical distance that has come to define much of the past few years. It’s why seeing the bands find a way, despite their harsh reality, to share a joyful experience so damn inspiring.

While the visuals of “My Universe” may be intentionally futuristic, the ability to play together across vast swathes of space is not. Just last week, Coldplay and BTS performed as part of the Global Citizen Live event. The bands were in two different countries—Coldplay in NYC, and BTS back home in Seoul—but came “together” on stage. The seven members of BTS were featured as holograms on a backdrop as Chris Martin sang both English and Korean-language parts of the song. (The Korean-language rap sections performed by Suga and J-Hope were pre-recorded.) Coldplay notably traveled to Korea to record “My Universe” during the pandemic.

“My Universe” Music Video Ending Explained

The breakout character from the “My Universe” music video is arguably DJ Lafrique, played by actress Joe Diao. DJ Lafrique is the character who is able to bring Coldplay and BTS together, across the universe. She is the most powerful figure featured in this story, and her rebellion comes at a high risk. At the end of the video, The Silencers find DJ Lafrique’s ship, which is making the intergalactic jam session possible. The Silencers’ power up their Death Star-like weapon in preparation to take out DJ Lafrique. However, BTS and Coldplay are able to buy her time by rocking out even more intensely (as you do); she powers up her hyperdrive and blips away before The Silencers can silence her forever.

The ending works for the video; it would be jarring to watch a music video featuring BTS that doesn’t end with a message of hope. The Korean band’s full name, Bangtan Sonyeondan, can be translated as “Bulletproof Boyscouts,” and the group has always seen it as one of their primary missions to act as a buffer between young people and the harsh stereotypes and pressures they face. While the group has always worked to be a balm in a harsh world, this has especially been the case since the outbreak of COVID, which has brought with it unprecedented mental health challenges. In the wake of the global crisis, BTS has worked to be a comfort to their global fandom, known as ARMY. When they released album “Be” in November 2020, member Jin said during the accompanying press conference: “Our goal with the music on ‘BE’ is that it can be a comfort to a lot of people … If many people can relate to it, I will be really thankful.”

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

What did you think of “My Universe”‘s science fiction concept? Let us know in the comments below.

The post My Universe: BTS & Coldplay’s Sci-Fi Music Video Explained appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3kRPUSt

[dustedmagazine]

Julius Hemphill — The Boyé Multi-National Crusade for Harmony (New World Records)

Julius Hemphill · The Boyé Multi-National Crusade for Harmony by Julius Hemphill

In a career that spanned only 25 years, reed player Julius Hemphill left an indelible mark with his music, as a player, organizer, composer and mentor. One could focus in on his work with Black Artists Group in St. Louis in the late 1960s, creating a collective that fused music, dance, film, theater and poetry with a sense of social activism and with his Mbari label, a model for artistic self-determination. Or one could jump to his move to New York in the 1970s where he was an active participant in the loft scene, performing solo, as a leader, with dancers and poets, helping to transform the sound of free jazz in collaboration with other Midwest transplants like Charles “Bobo” Shaw, Lester Bowie, Baikida Carroll, Abdul Wadud and Oliver Lake. There’s also his leading role in developing saxophone ensembles, from his appearance on Anthony Braxton’s “Composition 37” along with Oliver Lake and Hamiet Bluiett in 1974 which foreshadowed Hemphill, Lake, Murray and Bluiett’s formation of the World Saxophone Quartet a few years later to his establishment of a sax sextet. There’s the mark he left on musicians who came up under his influence like Tim Berne and Marty Ehrlich. And then there’s his compositions, with acclaimed early pieces like “Dogon A.D.” and “The Hard Blues” to suites like “Roi Boyé and the Gotham Minstrels” or “Flat-out Jump Suite” to “Steppin’” to the through-composed chamber music that he wrote toward the end of his life to Long Tongues: A Saxophone Opera, a large-scale theatrical piece that was performed a handful of times but was never recorded.

But for all that activity, Hemphill’s discography was never extensive, and most of what he put out is now out of print. Which makes this expansive boxed set scrupulously compiled by Marty Ehrlich from Hemphill’s archives at NYU invaluable. Over the course of seven discs, the collection documents Hemphill’s music from 1977 to a posthumous performance of his chamber pieces in 2007 at the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in Boston. Each disc stands on its own. Disc 1 documents performances of ensembles including his potent quartet with Olu Dara, Abdul Wadud and Warren Smith as well as a piece by a rare meeting with John Carter. Disc 2 captures a performance in duo with Abdul Wadud, amongst his most fruitful ongoing partnerships. Disc 3 collects the earliest performances of the box by a trio with Carroll and drummer Alex Cline from tiny venues in New York, Berkeley and Philadelphia in 1977. Disc 4 is given over to through-composed chamber works while disc 5 documents his solos and collaborations with poet K. Curtis Lyle and dramatist Malinké Elliott. Disc 6 is the most varied, collecting a variety of different groups. And Disc 7 closes things out with recordings from Woodstock, NY in 1979 by a previously undocumented group featuring Hemphill, Carroll, Dave Holland and Jack DeJohnette. 

Ehrlich kicks off the in-depth booklet that accompanies the box with the following quote by Hemphill from a 1994 interview in Bomb. “Well, you often hear people nowadays talking about the tradition, tradition, tradition. But they have tunnel vision in this tradition. Because tradition in African-American music is wide as all outdoors.” Each disc of this set gives proof that Hemphill’s music completely embodied that ethos. 

Ensembles

Julius Hemphill · The Boyé Multi-National Crusade for Harmony by Julius Hemphill

Hemphill was always a thoughtful ensemble leader, thinking not only about the blending of sonorities of specific instrumentation but also about the particular voices that his collaborators brought to the mix. Trumpet players, most often Baikida Carroll but also Olu Dara, were chosen as a timbral foil but as importantly for their sense of concise freedom, rich harmonic sensibility, open timing and ability to traverse the snaking open-minded melodicism of the leader’s compositions with aplomb. Hemphill noted about Carroll, “I consider the opportunity to bear witness to the eloquent beauty of Baikida’s music a distinct honor. . . Baikida Carroll is polarized, poised, at a matchless point between lyricism and fire. I hope he remains so.” Cellist Abdul Wadud, whose arch approach toward counter-melody and loping pulse, filling the roll of bass while adding an additional solo voice, was also a crucial member of the saxophonist’s groups. Then there are the drummers he regularly enlisted – Charles “Bobo” Shaw, Phillip Wilson, Warren Smith, a very young Alex Cline – each of whom brought their own unique grasp of malleable propulsion and multi-hued percussive colorations. All of this served as the perfect counterbalance for Hemphill’s biting tone, voluble articulation, multifaceted embrace of open groove, abstracted blues and lithe dynamism as a soloist. 

The box is a treasure-trove of unreleased recordings of Hemphill’s groups. Disc 1 contains an extended live set by Olu Dara, Abdul Wadud and Warren Smith from a European tour on the heels of their recording of the oft-overlooked Flat-Out Jump Suite, here, trading the open-ended collective improvisations of the studio recording for fiery readings of two previously unrecorded pieces as well as the breakneck “At Harmony” which Hemphill utilized in various arrangements over the years. “Air Rings” by a quartet with Carroll, Philip Wilson and guitarist Jehri Riley presages the oblique angularities that Hemphill would explore in the 80s with his JAH Band with a heady solo by the trumpet player while also showcasing Wilson’s spry, polyrhythmic sensibility. 

Disc 3’s documentation of sets by The Janus Company, a trio with Carroll and a then-21-year-old Cline on drums, is a revelation. The open form of the pieces like “#4” allow for probing playing by all three and the interplay between the two horn players and Cline’s spare, finely-wrought vigor. The disc is capped off by a live recording of a set by the trio joined by Abdul Wadud and here, the music takes on a spirited intensity. The circuitous collective improvisation segues into an abstracted jaunt through “Dogon AD,” a standout of the box. 

The final disc of the set captures a live performance by a quartet of Hemphill, Carroll, Dave Holland and Jack DeJohnette from 1979 at a small venue in Woodstock, NY when all four were living in the area. Though this was never a regularly working unit, their extended improvisations taking off on three of Hemphill’s pieces are gripping. The four quickly establish a jubilant collective balance, leaving ample room for solos and group interaction. Holland is in fine form and the recording does a great job of capturing his lissome arco playing and gamboling sense of pulse at play off of DeJohnette’s orchestral textures and supple drive. Carroll and Hemphill are strikingly charged for the performance, each delivering torrid solos and reflective ensemble collaboration throughout. 

Solo and Text

Julius Hemphill · The Boyé Multi-National Crusade for Harmony by Julius Hemphill

Any assessment of solo saxophone improvisation demands that one spend time spent digging into Hemphill’s discography. With Blue Boyé and Roi Boyé and the Gotham Minstrels, the reed player threw himself into explorations of structures he developed for both unaccompanied and multi-tracked saxophone. The pieces revealed a keen formative ear, stripping his compositional approach to their elemental frameworks. From his early days in St. Louis, Hemphill also dove in to collaborations with poets, pitting his solo excursions against the fueled narratives of writers like Watts Writers Workshop poet K. Curtis Lyle and dramatist Malinké Elliott. Disc 5 begins and ends with solo excursions, bookending live performances of Hemphill with Lyle and Elliott. While the set with Lyle is gripping throughout, the set with Elliott is dazzling, capturing multi-tracked musings constructed from “Bells,” a recording of a structure of resonant metal played with mallets and sticks at a salvage yard in Oregon, Hemphill’s horn and Elliott’s readings of text that draws on Ralph Ellison’s novel Invisible Man as a meditation on the Soweto Youth Uprising in 1976. The 22-minute suite moves across five “voices,” from orator to hipster to preacher, each positing a differing viewpoint of underlying dissent and frustration, notably the chilling skronk of “Soweto 1976 A Suite in Five Voices Part V Carnival Barker.” Listening to the closing “Solo Soprano Saxophone with Bells recording” is a teaser for a full-blown album that was never to be realized. 

Duos

Julius Hemphill · The Boyé Multi-National Crusade for Harmony by Julius Hemphill

Hemphill made a handful of great duo recordings including meetings with Oliver Lake, Warren Smith and Peter Kowald. But his partnership with Abdul Wadud was one of his most long-lasting and most fruitful. The two made two recordings, both of which are long out-of-print, so it is particularly welcome that Disc 2 contains an entire set of their partnership. While the provenance of the recordings is unknown, Ehrlich found the cello parts for five of the pieces which appear to be written specifically for the duo. Ehrlich describes the pieces in the booklet for the set, noting that “Chromatic, open-ended melodic lines are placed in contrasting juxtapositions. The music has a sense of abstraction, while individual gestures evoke melodies known and felt. All of this sets up a charged emotional space for the improvisations to unfold.” The two navigate the countervailing parts with spirited zeal, moving seamlessly between unrestrained melodicism, bounding groove, thorny angularity, infectious free funk and hurtling intensity. They are entirely in synch throughout, their voices intertwined, prodding the pieces forward while leaving ample space for each other’s arcing flights. Hemphill touches on free-bop runs at times while Wadud moves in and out of the pocket, tossing off flittering pizzicato lines then diving off into flights of fiery arco. While all of the pieces are prime Hemphill, Ehrlich notes that none of the pieces from this set appear anywhere else in the archive or on commercial recordings, another element that makes this disc significant. 

 Composition

Julius Hemphill · The Boyé Multi-National Crusade for Harmony by Julius Hemphill

During Hemphill’s last decade, he received a few commissions to compose music for chamber ensembles, though these pieces were scantily recorded or performed. Disc 4 documents two performances of these works, one from 1987 at the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in Boston and another from 1981 at Soundscape in Manhattan. The disc kicks off with “Parchment,” a solo piano piece written for and performed by his partner Ursula Oppens. Hemphill rarely utilized piano in his groups, but here, he plies shard-like chords as fragmented, lyrical motifs emerge with unhurried deliberation. Hemphill’s arrangements of Mingus pieces for string quartet included here might seem an anomaly until one thinks about the arrangements of Ellington/Strayhorn pieces he did for World Saxophone Quartet. Recasting Mingus’ potent melodies for string quartet is a bit of a mixed bag. While he revels in the lush harmonic depth of the instrumentation, it’s only on his chart for “Better Get Hit in Your Soul” that things really click due in main part to the funky cello line that goads things along. The two extended pieces for mixed wind and brass quintet are much stronger. The expanded instrumental palette offers the composer timbral depth with John Purcell and Ehrlich moving back and forth between saxophones and clarinets, the pairing of Purcell on oboe with Janet Grice’s bassoon and trumpet player Bruce Purse and Ray Anderson on trombone and tuba filling out the tonal range. The groups attacks the arrangements with unbridled swagger, especially when the pieces open up for sections of improvisation which the group jumps on. Hemphill honed these skills with his large ensemble, his saxophone sextet and in his piece Long Tongues and one wonders where this avenue might have led had he lived longer. 

Any of these discs, taken separately, would be a welcome addition to Hemphill’s discography. Taken together, they provide a wide-ranging, illuminating view even to those who’ve long immersed themselves in his music. Ehrlich concludes the booklet notes with this quote from the reed player. “This music is blues-driven. In terms of what has gone on before. Now where it goes from here — where it is going from here — may not be the same thing, ’cause it has to change, or it’ll die in my opinion. You know what I mean? The traditions keep on turning over! People keep looking rearward for the tradition. The tradition in this music is forward! Forward! Not what you did last week, but this week! You see what I’m saying? Now . . . that’s a hard road.” Diving in to the seven discs of The Boyé Multi-National Crusade for Harmony, one is struck by how much Hemphill championed that tenet throughout his career and, indeed, drove the tradition forward in all of his artistic pursuits.

 Michael Rosenstein

[imagine-organization-xiii]

Hello! I hope that you are doing well during this pandemic. May I please have a h/c about the organization founding out about their s/o beautiful singing voice? I understand if you are busy! Stay awesome! Much love!!!😊🤗❤💕

Same to you, love! We’re entering into Phase 2 right now but I can promise you that it is way too early

You might also enjoy this headcanon about which org members can sing!

Links lead to music videos that portray the singer’s talents <3

oOoOo

Xemnas

What S/O Sounds Like: Kitty Kallen

He wasn’t expecting you to have a voice right out of a black and white movie but he is not mad at it at all. He loves listening to you sing and just speak with your old-fashioned voice and mannerisms, and often finds himself sitting back in his desk chair to listen as your voice drifts in from down the hallway.

Xigbar

What S/O Sounds Like: Joan Jett

Won’t admit it but kind of fell a little bit in love when he saw you bouncing across the kitchen in one of his old t-shirts, hair messy, cooking breakfast, and jamming out to one of your favorite rock and roll songs. Couldn’t believe you had such talent hidden deep within you but MAN he wants to hear you all the time now.

Xaldin

What S/O Sounds Like: Amy Winehouse

Oh, shit, your voice literally brings him to a completely other time and place. He can listen to your voice and close his eyes and imagine that he’s in a smoky jazz bar in the middle of a busy city. It’s a surreal experience and he never gets bored of listening to you.

Vexen

What S/O Sounds Like: Judy Garland

There’s a part of him that doesn’t like your voice. You sound like the main character in a movie that he used to watch with his mother as a child and your voice brings him back to times he’d prefer not to think about. There’s something about your voice, however, that makes it difficult for him to stop listening.

Lexaeus

What S/O Sounds Like: Sarah McLachlan

You were singing along to a song on the radio as you helped him make breakfast one early morning and he couldn’t help the fact that he swung around and stared blatantly at you swinging your head back and forth, not noticing the looks he was giving you. He doesn’t have the heart to ask you to sing for him because you seemed embarrassed when he last tried, but he cherishes every moment you trust him enough to share you voice.

Zexion

What S/O Sounds Like: Florence Welch

You sound like you should be some haunting sea goddess luring men to their deaths in the ocean, not hanging around the lab with him and Vexen, and he didn’t even realize that you had a voice like that until you starting absentmindedly singing to yourself while doing your work.

Saix

What S/O Sounds Like: Sia

He’s never heard another voice like yours. Really, he hasn’t. He loves the sound of you singing in the other room or in the shower, or humming to yourself when you think that no one else can hear. You’re shy about it, he knows that for sure, but he can’t help but ask you to sing for him on occasion.

Axel

What S/O Sounds Like: Sara Bareilles

Overheard you singing while you were in the shower and god damn, he never wants you to stop singing around him because your voice is so awesome and powerful and unique. He’s shocked that he’s never heard you sing before but now he wants to listen to you all the time.

Demyx

What S/O Sounds Like: Shania Twain

Your voice is like the start of a playful party for him, definitely a good time waiting to happen. It’s always so playful and upbeat and he L O V E S to do duets with you almost all the time.

Luxord

What S/O Sounds Like: Maria Callas (singing starts at 2:16)

Doesn’t understand how you don’t have a job at some famous opera house or something with how talented you are. You can belt out notes that bring tears to his eyes and he wishes that you would take better advantage of your talents.

Marluxia

What S/O Sounds Like: Hozier

Your voice is something he could listen to every day, with its lilting tones and hint of a slight accent that seeps out on certain words. You can be the soundtrack of his every action, as if you were narrating his life with your music.

Larxene

What S/O Sounds Like: Alex Turner

I mean, the only way that she can really describe your voice is to say that it’s sexy. It sends a chill up her spine and she thoroughly enjoys it every second of hearing your husky voice blurt out some of her favorite songs.

Roxas

What S/O Sounds Like: Amy Lee

Your voice is dark and haunting and spooky. The first time he heard it, it literally stopped him in his tracks and he had to completely backtrack so he could witness the sounds actually leaving your mouth. He couldn’t believe that you were hiding such a beautiful voice.

Xion

What S/O Sounds Like: Peter Hollens

Her favorite thing is to listen to you sing as you go about your nightly routine. It’s almost absentminded with the way you set out your clothing for the next day, brush your teeth, pull back the covers of your bed, singing the whole time under your breath in one of the most beautiful voices she’s ever heard.

[your-angle-of-music]

Anyone want my playlist for my dream cast version of The Phantom of the Opera?

Coming right up!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DGFe3xKBIJQ&list=PLyXOfYb8cpfkWW_8EO-XHO2MIBFLMevmn

To my knowledge, this has all the songs that count as songs, but as always, I welcome other people’s additions or suggestions!

Check out under the cut for the list of songs and actors, and my notes and explanations for each of them. Enjoy!

1. Prologue/Overture - Barry Clark as the Auctioneer, Steve Barton as Raoul de Chagny, Rosemary Ashe as Carlotta (Original Broadway)

To be honest, I was never too fond of this long prologue, which is never relevant again and reveals very little about the characters’ future. Clark’s Auctioneer does create a properly grand feel, and Barton’s Raoul does sound heartbroken, but what I’m really here for is that epic, bombastic, beautiful overture. No matter how many times I hear it, it will never stop being exhilarating. This track also features the Hannibal opera part. Ashe’s Carlotta sounds deliciously dramatic and her high note on “Rome” treads that line between impressive and annoying perfectly.

2. Think of Me - Katie Hall as Christine Daae, Angela Caesar as Carlotta, Simon Bailey as Raoul de Chagny (UK Tour)

God, I love Caesar’s Carlotta. She takes her time with all her lines, to excellent effect, and her “spare a thought for me” is both genuinely pretty and utterly distinct from Hall’s Christine’s. I also adore the alternating weepiness and shoutiness she puts into her “these things do happen” tirade, and you can hear her clapping during “all the time!”. And then her “this thing does not happen!” is gloriously over-the-top. Meanwhile, Hall’s Christine’s voice is so lovely here. I appreciate how quietly she starts out, barely audible, and then how sweet her voice is once she gets more confident on “that oh so distant day.” She sounds pure and innocent but yet still clearly classically trained, and damn, she can project. I love the way she sings “think of me, think of me waking silent and resigned” especially. And then that final “think of me” cadenza is perfect. She makes the high notes seem effortless and they’re buttery smooth. Bailey’s Raoul also makes an excellent first impression.

3. Angel of Music - Sarah Brightman as Christine Daae, Janet Devenish as Meg Giry, Michael Crawford as the Phantom (Original Broadway)

We start of strong with Crawford’s Phantom’s absolutely haunting “bravi, bravi, bravissimi.” And then I adore Devenish’s Meg — she has such a pure, clear, young voice that sounds perfect for her role. Devenish makes this the best version of this song in my opinion, even though I prefer the new lyric ““I watched your face from the shadows / distant through all the applause. / I hear your voice in the darkness, / yet the words aren’t yours” to the one that Devenish’s Meg sings here, “Christine, you must have been dreaming, / stories like this can’t come true. / Christine, you’re talking in riddles, / and it’s not like you” (because come on now, talking in riddles is one of Christine’s defining personality traits). Brightman’s Christine sounds gorgeous on the high notes, especially when she sings softly, and I love her on her “father once spoke of an angel” part.

4. Little Lotte/The Mirror - Sarah Brightman as Christine Daae, Steve Barton as Raoul de Chagny, Michael Crawford as the Phantom (Original Broadway)

Barton’s Raoul will always be my favorite. There’s a sweetness and a warmth to his voice that makes him always seem likable, when other musical Raouls seem patronizing or boring or manipulative or dumb. I like the mischievous, flirtatious note in Brightman’s Christine’s “you remember that too.” And most of all, I like Crawford’s Phantom’s powerful “insolent boy!” that manages to sound both scary and strangely far-off and echoey — I’d believe he was an angel too. And then the gentleness in his “flattering child, you shall know me” seems more book accurate and likable to me. Crawford has a unique quality to his voice that makes me love his rendition of the “angel of music” motif the best of any actor’s. I am a little sorry that the end of Barton’s cry of “angel” gets cut off in this recording, though.

5. The Phantom of the Opera - Michael Crawford as the Phantom, Sarah Brightman as Christine Daae (Original Broadway)

Brightman’s Christine might not be the strongest, acting-wise, but vocally? She has the range, darlings. She sings the soft, low beginning of this song and the piercing, high end of it with the same facility — I mean, just listen to that last high E. It sounds effortless. And everything in between is good too; her first “the phantom of the opera is there, inside my mind” has a breathtakingly haunting quality. Crawford’s Phantom is also very good with the high notes. I just love the way he sings the words “my power over you grows stronger yet” and “in all your fantasies, you always knew” almost too airily, and of course every time he sings “phantom,” it’s powerful enough to give me chills. And I love how soft he is on his first few rounds of “sing for me.”

6. The Music of the Night - Earl Carpenter as the Phantom (London 2006)

This is one of the few tracks on here that I have video for, and I couldn’t be happier about it. Everything about Carpenter’s Phantom’s body language really makes this song for me, in addition to his positively angelic voice. Carpenter embodies the version of the Phantom that I know from the novel, hesitant and gentle even though he’s...Like That, and he manages to make “The Music of the Night” really seem like a love song. I appreciate that he remains so quiet for so much of the beginning, almost inaudible with your computer’s volume turned up less than a third, and the sweetness he puts into the phrase “night unfurls its splendor.” Also that little hand block he does on “tremulous and tender” and the way he never quite touches Christine during “turn your face away from the garish light of day” makes me Feel Things. The crescendo fakeout he does on “close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams” is masterful, as is his high note on “soar” and the way he turns his masked side away from Christine’s hand on “the darkness of the music of the night” and...oh God, we’re only three minutes in. But he’s not just soft and sweet; his “let your soul take you where you long to be” is strong and powerful. I really, really like how he keeps his distance even when he has his arm around her, and the way he stops her hand during “savor each sensation.” Christine’s faint looks weird, because it always does, because it’s really dumb, but I appreciate that Carpenter actually catches her — and looks a small bit panicked about it. And then when he strokes her hair and sings that last “night” the softest and purest of all...perfection.

7. I Remember/Stranger Than You Dreamt It - John Owen-Jones as the Phantom, Rachel Barrell as Christine Daae (London 2005)

Another one with video! And oh boy, what a video. First of all, Barrell’s Christine has a very cool and interesting voice, and I love the way she sings “on the lake there was a boat, and in the boat there was a man,” delicate and unsure, before you can hear her steeling her courage on “who was that shape in the shadows?” I’m equally happy with the way JOJ’s Phantom snarls out that “you little lying Delilah! you little viper!” while still making it sound good, and that over-the-top, extremely JOJ final “damn you! curse you!” that ends in a sob ‘n growl, because if there’s ever a show to be melodramatic in, it’s Phantom. And then his hissed out “stranger than you dreamt it” and the fact that he keeps his hand over his face the entire time makes it perfect. His wounded-animal-style crawling starting on “fear can turn to love” and the roughness and pain and prettiness in his voice reminds me a lot of Erik’s characterization in the novel, as is his sobbed “oh, Christine!” right afterwards, and his “those two fools who run my theater will be missing you!” is believably scary.

8. Magical Lasso - Janos Kurucz as Joseph Buquet, Mary Millar as Madame Giry (Original Broadway)

It’s such a small song, but I really love the unique quality to Kurucz’s Buquet’s voice, as well as the anxiety in Millar’s Madame Giry’s “heat of his eyes.”

9. Notes/Prima Donna - Rosemary Ashe as Carlotta, John Savident as Monsieur Firmin, David Firth as Monsieur Andre, Steve Barton as Raoul de Chagny, Mary Millar as Madame Giry, Janet Devenish as Meg Giry, Michael Crawford as the Phantom (Original Broadway)

This song is way more of a bop than it has any right to be. I absolutely adore Savident’s Firmin and Firth’s Andre, with their humor and their bluster and their old married husbands vibes. I love that overpowering “damnable!” and that long-suffering sigh on “Wrote. Written.” All the indignant drama that Ashe’s Carlotta brings is delightful in every way, especially on her high Italian parts and that “it’s no use trying to appease me, you’re only saying this to please me.” Crawford’s Phantom’s “one last chance” is chilling, and I like how pretty his sound is here — it’s way creepier than growly anger. The “Prima Donna” section is just such a gorgeous melody, really, and Savident and Firth have such rich, lovely voices. And Barton’s Raoul is also amazing; his “is this her angel of music” especially is so gorgeous. I do wish I could hear Millar’s Madame Giry a little bit more clearly, but I love her voice. And Ashe’s last “once more” high note is really quite breathtaking, as is Crawford’s “a disaster beyond your imagination will occur.“ This recording also features a section of Il Muto that will overlap a little bit with the next track — sorry about that.

10. Il Muto - Kim Stengel as Carlotta, Elizabeth Loyacano as Christine Daae, Howard McGillin as the Phantom (Broadway 2008)

There’s some video for this one, which is good, because all the actors are hilarious. This Raoul...sounds like a bit of an asshole, but to be fair, the script shoves him pretty firmly into that role. I can’t find the name of the actor who plays the Count anywhere, but he is perfect. I love the way he holds that “observe her” note, and his hammy self-awareness in doing so. The real MVP here is Stengel’s Carlotta, with all her imperiousness and her high notes and her dramatic nervous laughter and the way she bosses around Christine and the conductor. And her croaking. The croaking is perfect, especially when she does it offstage. Loyacano’s Christine doesn’t have too much to do in this scene, but her kissing in time is amazing. Same for McGillin’s Phantom, although I like how quiet and genuinely amused he is on his “perhaps it is you who are the toad” as well as his maniacal laughter when he kills Buquet. Actually, the whole ballet section is perfectly executed (although I’m not much of an expert on dancing).

11. Why Have You Brought Us Here/All I Ask of You - Sarah Brightman as Christine Daae, Steve Barton as Raoul de Chagny, Michael Crawford as the Phantom (Original Broadway)

Brightman’s Christine is wonderful here, sounding properly hysterical on “and in this labyrinth, where night is blind” and “Raoul, I’ve been there” and beautiful and sad on the “yet in his eyes, all the sadness of the world” bit. And did I mention that I love Barton’s Raoul? Because I do. I really, really do. The beginning of this song can make Raoul look. Really bad. But this one manages to pull it off, sounding so concerned and so utterly in love. When he sings “no more talk of darkness” and “let me be your shelter, let me be your light” his voice sounds so soft and warm and gentle and my God, you can hear the smile and the hug, and then his “then say you’ll share with me one love, one lifetime” is urgent and soaring and lovely. Brightman matches his energy, and she has a lovely, delicate voice that balances perfectly with his. Her “say the word and I will follow you” sounds so tender and there’s a gorgeous intensity in her “say you love me.” Their last “love me, that’s all I ask of you” is sweet and soft, and I love the lightness in Brightman’s “I must go” and of course the warm solidity in Barton’s “Christine, I love you” that sets up the contrast that will absolutely make me cry later. Crawford’s Phantom is perfect too, right from that first haunting, echoing “Christine” at the beginning. He sounds vulnerable and almost disbelieving and on “I gave you my music” and the last repetitions of “Christine,” and that “Go!” is TERRIFYING.

12. Entr’acte - John Savident as Monsieur Firmin, David Firth as Monsieur Andre (Original Broadway)

I don’t have that many feelings about which orchestra in particular preforms this, but I definitely want to include it. I do adore Webber’s score and the switches between the different melody motifs are pretty awesome. Fair warning, though, that it does include the very beginning of “Masquerade” but cuts off in the middle of “I must say, all the same, that it’s a shame that Phantom fellow isn’t here,” which frustrates me to no end.

13. Masquerade - Anna O’Byrne as Christine Daae, Alexander Lewis(???) as Raoul de Chagny (Australia 2009)

Another song with video! And it’s good quality too, highlighting the colorfulness of this scene. O’Byrne’s Christine and Lewis’ Raoul enter at “who can name the face,” and they’re graceful dancers, and everyone reflects the high energy of the scene, especially on the quiet verse. O’Byrne’s Christine sounds young here, but in a good way, and quite scared on “you promised me,” and Lewis lets his Raoul be exasperated on “it’s an engagement, not a crime” — it feels like they’ve had this argument many times before. The part where Christine and Raoul get separated feels genuinely suspenseful, and I really love the lighting just before the Phantom’s entrance.

14. Why So Silent? - Earl Carpenter as the Phantom (London 2005 - 2007)

I do love Carpenter’s Phantom because he’s sweet, but sometimes I love him because he’s really, really scary. There’s video for this bit so we can all admire his Red Death costume and the lighting to match. He stays creepily quiet for the beginning, so that his “remember there are worse things than a shattered chandelier” and his “your chains are still mine! you will sing for me!” are all the more powerful.

15. Notes/Twisted Every Way - Sarah Brightman as Christine Daae, Steve Barton as Raoul de Chagny, John Savident as Monsieur Firmin, David Firth as Monsieur Andre, Mary Millar as Madame Giry, Rosemary Ashe as Carlotta (Original Broadway)

Honestly, Ashe’s Christine is one of the best parts of this song. The way she sings “outrage!” and “ha! here’s our little flower” and the way she absolutely snarls “she’s the one behind this, Christine Daae!” is perfection. She’s also brilliant in the “Don Juan Triumphant” rehearsal. Savident’s Firmin and Firth’s Andre are wonderful as usual, and Barton’s Raoul manages to sound gentle and good in a script that is not kind to the character here — his “you don’t have to, they can’t make you” and “you said yourself, he was nothing but a man” and “every hope and every prayer rests on you now“ are lovely. Millar’s Madame Giry sounds frail and scared and determined (I love her “monsieur, be careful, we have seen him kill”) and she reminds me a lot of her characterization in the novel, and Crawford’s Phantom is deliciously creepy in his letter, and I adore his almost sighing sound on phrases like “an office not the arts” and “her teacher.” His “your obedient friend” gives me chills. Brightman’s Christine also shines here. I actually like the quiet almost-shrillness in her “how dare you” because it sounds like she’s been trying to do what she’s supposed to all along but she’s beginning to snap under the stress, and same goes for her “I’ll go mad!” which sounds genuine and spontaneous. Her “twisted every way” section is haunting and haunted and ethereally beautiful and I could listen to it all day. This recording also includes the beginning of “Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again,” so heads up about that.

16. Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again - Leila Benn Harris as Christine Daae (London 2008)

There’s some video for this one, but the quality isn’t great — sorry about that. Harris’ Christine, however, is extremely great. Her voice contains sweetness and sadness and trauma and anger all at once and her dynamics are just perfection. The way she sings “that voice which calls to me and speaks my name” provokes instant goosebumps every time, and then the softness in her “Little Lotte thought of everything and nothing” is brilliant. The fierce anger in her “sculpted angels, cold and monumental” is what really made me fall in love with Harris’ rendition. And that strength and power in her “why can’t the past just die” and then the softness and clearness in “help me say goodbye” with the last ringing, gorgeous high note. God, she is perfect, isn’t she.

17. Wandering Child/Bravo, Monsieur - Michael Crawford as the Phantom, Sarah Brightman as Christine Daae, Steve Barton as Raoul de Chagny (Original Broadway)

Hands down, this song, at least the first half, is my favorite in the show, and these three singers’ voices pull it off perfectly. Brightman’s Christine has such a delicate voice that sounds so lovely with the two lower ones, and she puts so much gentleness and sadness into that “angel or father, friend or phantom, who is it there staring?” and she sounds beautiful and tortured on that “Angel of Music, I denied you, turning from true beauty.” Her acting on “oh, Raoul!” and “Raoul, come back!” is...not the best, but her singing makes it well worth it to me. And Crawford’s Phantom sounds, well, like an angel. There’s such a strangeness and sadness and beauty in his voice. The way he sings “have you forgotten your angel?” is lovely and soft, and I just love how he says “far from my far-reaching gaze” (and I also love the lyric itself; I think it’s really creepy when later Phantoms change it to “fathering gaze”). And his “turning from true beauty” and “come to your strange angel” are powerful and perfect in every way. His “I am your Angel of Music, come to me, Angel of Music” is properly hypnotic, and I like the steadiness of it amidst Christine’s and Raoul’s panic. And speaking of Raoul, Barton kills it with all of his harmonies, and there’s genuine worry in his deliciously soft “once again she is his, once again she returns” and in his loud and long and powerful “luring her back from the grave.” Crawford’s and Barton’s “bravo, monsieur” exchange sounds properly scary, and I almost like how over-the-top Crawford is being compared to Barton’s relative calmness — they are just on such different pages, emotionally, and are assessing the situation in completely different ways. This recording also gets into the beginning of “The Point of No Return,” or rather “Don Juan Triumphant,” and it sounds...demonic is the best word I can think of, honestly, but that is definitely a good thing. I’m not too fond of Brightman’s Christine or Crawford’s Phantom in this part, but I do appreciate their excellent voices as always.

18. The Point of No Return - Ramin Karimloo as the Phantom, Sierra Boggess as Christine Daae (25th Anniversary)

Unpopular opinion, perhaps bordering on life-threatening: I’m generally not that into Karimloo’s portrayal of the Phantom. His voice is just a bit too smooth for me, too glamorous and sexy, not an eerie Crawford or an angelic Carpenter or a tortured JOJ, and his acting usually reflects that side of him a bit too much for the Phantom I know. But in this song? It works. Holy everloving fuck, it works. I love the way he says “no backward glances” and “what warm unspoken secrets will we learn” Boggess’ Christine is absolutely mesmerizing here too — her high notes on “you have brought me” and her vibrato on “our passion play has now at last begun” and the huskiness of her “past the point of right or wrong” are brilliant in every way. I’m especially glad that I have video for this song, because these two really make it with their body language. The way Boggess’ Christine springs up and bolts away just before her “you have brought me” line and, of course, Karimloo’s Phantom’s shaking hands on “until we’re one” are perfect. And then, after Boggess’ Christine’s realization that it’s the Phantom she’s singing with at “consume us,” their dynamic is perfect, with Karimloo’s growling determination and Boggess’ anger and fear, both expressed perfectly in their “so stand and watch it burn.” I love the way their “return”s are out of sync after Boggess’ Christine reveals the Phantom’s mask, and the way Karimloo spits out his “-turn” like a challenge. And then the tenor sweetness and intensity of his “say you’ll share with me” can just about break me every time, yet it also sounds properly distinct from Raoul’s earlier version, like with the fiercely desperate edge to his “one lifetime,” and his “anywhere you go let me go too” almost has a different melody. And then I think his snarling and “no”ing when Christine unmasks him at the end is...a little much, but still very on-brand. Oh, and there’s like ten seconds of silence at the end of this recording, just to warn you.

19. Down Once More/The Final Lair - John Owen-Jones as the Phantom, Katie Hall as Christine Daae, Simon Bailey as Raoul de Chagny (UK Tour)

I love this production so, so much, and I wish I had video for it, because nothing exemplifies its understanding of the characters like the staging of The Kiss — instead of the standard staging, in which Christine kisses the Phantom, then hugs him, then kisses him again with more enthusiasm, in this production, Hall’s Christine kisses JOJ’s Phantom once, and then he falls to his knees and she hugs him as he sinks into her and then pushes her away. But I’m here for the audio, too. We start of strong with JOJ’s Phantom’s “into darkness deep as hell!” which he holds for an amazingly long time in this voice of beautiful despair, followed by a properly tortured “why, you ask, was I bound and chained” section. His “a mask, my first unfeeling scrap of clothing” is heartwrenching, and his “monsieur, I bid you welcome” section is chilling. Despite his awesomeness, I might still need to hand the MVP award to Hall’s Christine, who carries an anger and defiance into this scene that I rarely see in other Christines that you can hear in her “am I now to be prey to your lust for flesh” and her “it’s in your soul that the true distortion lies” and of course her iconic “tears of hate.” And Bailey’s Raoul is compelling, and his “free her!” and “I did it all for you and all for nothing” are wonderfully delivered. In the frantic part where all three characters sing at the same time, their voices are balanced perfectly. I absolutely adore JOJ’s Phantom’s “for either way you choose you cannot win” and Bailey’s Raoul’s “why make her lie to you to save me” and Hall’s Christine’s “Angel of Music, you deceived me.” JOJ’s Phantom’s “you try my patience, make your choice!” is scary but not deafening, and then comes the tender perfection of Hall’s Christine’s “pitiful creature of darkness” (although I wish there was a slightly longer pause before it” and her angelic “alone” and God, I love them all. Hall’s little “no please” when she sees the Phantom approaching Raoul is an excellent detail, and JOJ’s “angel in hell” sounds desperate and almost childlike. I wish his “go now and leave me” wasn’t quite so loud — my throat hurts just thinking about it, but then his “Christine, I love you.” Oh my God, that “Christine, I love you.” I think stabbing me in the heart would be less painful. And I love the lightness and gentleness of Hall’s and Bailey’s final “All I Ask of You” reprise. Yeah. I adore this production, and I adore this show.

Thank you for stopping by! I’d be happy to talk about these choices or Phantom in general with anyone, any time :)

[lokislytherin]

For the writing positivity ask meme: 3, 10, 15, 21, 30!

OOH A RESPONSE! thank you for the ask @khunfounded​!

prepare for a lot of rambling

3. What is your favorite line/paragraph that you’ve written?

hmmm i’ve written a lot of things before this is hard lmao i’ll just pick my top two!

from tower of god, ships in the night ch14: this is one of the most poetic things i’ve written, ever (thank taylor swift’s ‘cardigan’ for the inspiration with the line “you drew stars around my scars // and now i’m bleeding” because i love folklore and taylor swift is megabrain)

“The wounds she'd dug into his mind may never truly heal, but they are merely memories of pain now, pale scars painted over with gold ink, tattooed with stars and guitars and whatever the night had to give.”

from bts, burn the stage ch1: circus poetics, of course.  after reading the first (and only) chapter i wanna continue this again sdfjkldkls why do i keep starting fics but never finishing them? i should actually Commit

“without a sound, it creeps into cities in their darkest hours, bringing with it shadows of caravans dimly lit by rattling lanterns and flickering light bulbs.  if you take a closer look, you can see the silhouette of an elephant in its trailer, illuminated by the faintest shine of moonlight.  this time, the circus is in busan.”

10. What’s the best comment on a fic you’ve ever gotten?

time to scroll through my 1000+ comments lmao

okay after a while of scrolling i have no idea what the best comment is but ngl any comment from @resident-normal-person​ is bound to get me wheezing at some point because her comments are so long and detailed and it’s like watching reaction vids but in words

but ngl this comment from one of the fics i’ve kinda left behind (one chapter is up and i said I’M GONNA CONTINUE THIS IT’S GONNA BE SO LONG I HAVE SO MUCH CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT PLANNED FOR JIN) cracks me up tho: 

“Please continue? I'm actually interested”

15. Tell me about a time when you got super inspired.

laughs like i haven’t listened to taylor swift’s ‘willow’ five times today

so i get inspired by songs really easily? especially by taylor swift songs, because each song has a unique narrative and taylor is such an amazing songwriter she’s literally so talented i don’t know if i want to dissect her lyrics or her brain

yesterday her new album evermore came out and i promised my swiftie friend we’d listen and scream about it together, and we did, and before i knew it-

OK FIC PLANNING LET'S GO (this is me trying~) - ILLICIT AFFAIRS / CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS / CLOSURE?: FT KHUN EDUAN, JAHAD AND MAMA AGNIS, SITNVERSE - WILLOW: CRYSTAL SNOW PREQUEL, VLENE - NO BODY NO CRIME: I DON'T KNOW YET BUT PROBABLY KHUNBAM CRIMEBUSTERS AU - EVERMORE: PROBABLY RELATED TO 'EXILE' FIC holy crap the bridge i'm shivering in my seat (it's not the cold) - TOLERATE IT: I DON'T KNOW AS OF RIGHT NOW BUT I WILL, MAYBE JALENE UNREQUITED LOVE FROM JAHAD POV? - ivy: maybe a continuation of willow? but as a plant witch!arlene au, which might tie in to cruel summer? sfdlkasdfjfd - gold rush: part of khunbam celebs au? - marjorie: maybe part of 'the curious courtship ritual of a black turtle' as a tribute to arlene? marjorie was taylor's opera singer grandma - happiness: bam character study with links to rachel? or should i use clean for that - coney island: the lyrics are tragic, so maybe arlene's thoughts in her last moments in sitnverse? i need the angst practise - cowboy like me": city boy eduan gets stranded in a car trip and has to stay the night with country cowboy v? either way it does not end in true love forever or whatever - long story short: bam moving on from rachel and finding love with khun? or khun moving on from maria and finding bam? sfdkljsdfkjlfds i don't knowww so many ideasssss - dorothea: interesting song but i gotta admit i have no idea what to do with this one

kaboom

you can visibly see where i started chilling out lmao but me and my friend spent a little over an hour screaming about evermore, so far my favorite tracks are ‘no body no crime’ (true crime inspired! i want to dissect the narrative and write a fic, maybe start that fugou keiji x khunbam au) and ‘champagne problems’ (eduan-style ‘illicit affairs’ vibes, you’ll get it if you’re caught up to ships in the night)

i did pretty much the same thing for folklore too? like i linked every single song in the album to a oneshot idea and now my swiftie friend is screaming at me to hurry up and actually write the saga because she wants to read my fics

21. Tell me about a time when you impressed yourself.

me in may: *plans out the entire plot of ships in the night*

me in december, actually following the plot: *surprised pikachu* i- i can do that? i did that? just over 100k words? oh my gods this is what dedication actually is

(my inner kim namjoon, waving a razor: NOW STUDY OR I’LL SHAVE YOUR EYEBROWS)

okay but here’s another anecdote: this is me trying to analyze one of my fics, i’m connecting bts’s hyung line (kim seokjin, min yoongi, jung hoseok (hobi), kim namjoon) to space metaphors, i’m screaming at my army friend over whatsapp in the middle of the night because i was kinda high on sleep deprivation

this is like from some time early last year

hC: YOONGI IS THE NIGHT AND HOBI IS THE SUN SO HOBI BRINGS LIGHT TO YOONGI'S WORLD AND LETS HIM SEE THE BETTER PARTS OF HIMSELF AND MAKES HIS LIFE BETTER THEREFORE SOPE IS TECHNICALLY THE BEST SHIP

AND JIN IS THE STARS BECAUSE HE'S TRYING TO MAKE YOONGI SEE THE TRUTH, AND HIS MAGIC IS ALSO THE COLOR OF STARS AND WHEN HE DOES MAGIC HIS EYES GLOW SILVER AND I SHOULD FIND A PIC OF PLATINUM BLOND JIN BUT IDK IF IT WOULD LOOK GOOD

and then me a few days after that

actually no jin is the moon because he brings light to others but also because he helps them but he doesn't help himself so he's lonely that way like the moon

so namjoon could be the stars because they're not on the same level but he's still with jin

and the moon only glows because it reflects the light of the stars around it which suggests that the only reason why jin is still around is because of his love for namjoon and joon's love for him

me more than a year later, after the release of bts’s second most recent album map of the soul:7, which includes kim seokjin’s solo track ‘moon’

HOLY SHÏT DID I PREDICT MOON

LIKE JIN’S MOON MOON

i literally just remembered that just now? like i was looking for the namjinsope space analysis and then i saw jin = moon and was like JIN = MOON? I SAID THAT? ON 4/7/19? i even predicted the song meaning?

also go to 3:22 to see why jin owns my heart he deserves all the love in the world

30. Do you know how proud I am of you?

*tears up* you- you are? thank you so much

[fleurmatisse]

jon v the circus part ii

tw: a clown, hospital, self harm mention, blood

(check reblogs for links to part one and ao3)

it’s unsettling to see tim quiet. it’s unsettling to see him with blood on his hands and a lost expression on his face. he watches jon approach like he doesn’t even see him until jon speaks, and then he sags like his strings have been cut. luckily, he was already sitting down.

jon isn’t the best at comfort, but he sits with tim, ignoring the people yelling around them until someone in scrubs calls for him. danny’s facial surgery went well, they think his wounds will heal with minimal scarring, but he still hadn’t regained consciousness before the surgery and they couldn’t find an explanation. tim is advised to clean up before he goes to see his brother. jon follows the signs to the bathroom with tim’s red-tinged sleeve in his grasp. tim washes his hands with the same dazed look he’s had since jon showed up. once the blood is gone, jon walks with him to danny’s room. as soon as tim sees his brother, the haze disappears. 

tim is not a quiet crier. 

jon steps into the hall to give him privacy. as he shuts the door, he sees a flash of something beside danny’s bed, red and white and—smiling. whispering in danny’s ear. jon looks through the crack of the door, and the smiling face looks back, puts a finger to its lips, and disappears. jon stares at the space it previously occupied until a duo of conversing nurses walk by and startle him out of it.

his blood feels cold.

danny wakes up an hour later with no memory of breaking into the opera house. he’s unconscious again not long after that. the nurses send tim and jon home now that danny’s seemingly no longer in mortal danger. in front of the hospital, tim is back to looking lost.

“i don’t know how i’m supposed to get to sleep,” he says.

jon isn’t getting any more sleep. it’s almost sunrise now. he keeps seeing that face. “what i have to tell you isn’t going to help any.”

“is there time to get alcohol into my system first?” tim asks.

“i’m not sure,” jon answers.

“how about the commute to my flat?”

“it can hold until then,” jon determines. “you’ll call me?”

“you’re not coming with me?” the way tim says it is almost a joke.

“oh,” jon says. “i can.”

“you don’t really have to.”

“i’m coming with you.”

“well, if you insist.”

tim doesn’t drink anything stronger than water. jon accepts a glass and lingers awkwardly in the kitchen while tim changes out of the clothes he’d decided on the ride back to burn the first chance he gets. he comes back in a loose-fitting, pattern clashing outfit and drops onto the couch, heaving a sigh as he tilts his head back. 

“alright, bad news, lay it on me,” he says.

“are you sure you don’t want to sleep?”

“jon.” 

the serious tone again, like when he asked if jon really thought danny was in danger. 

jon sits on the other end of the couch, still holding the glass of water in both hands. he stares at it, resting on his knees, instead of looking at tim. he doesn’t talk about these things. “i saw something in the hospital with danny. a—well, i think it was a ghost. i’ve seen ghosts before, but this one felt...wrong. and it was talking to him.”

tim is quiet for a long moment. “are you telling me my brother is like you? psychic or whatever it is you are.”

“i don’t know,” jon says. “i don’t know if he was hearing the clown or if it was just there—“

“wait,” tim says, sitting up straight. jon looks up at the movement. “a clown?”

“i’m—yes? it looked like a clown; it had the makeup.”

tim gets up and disappears down the hall again. jon sets his glass on a coaster on the coffee table in front of him and prepares to be kicked out—this, telling tim it was a clown, this is the final straw. tim comes back and shoves a paper at him. 

“did it look like this?”

jon takes the paper and looks. a chill runs down his spine. the red on the cheeks, the too-wide smile. “where did you get this?”

“danny keeps drawing them,” tim says, sinking into the couch again. he sounds more tired than he has the whole time jon’s been with him. jon puts the drawing face down beside his glass. “they’re in all his notes on the opera house; i thought it was weird but then he told me about joseph grimaldi—this literal clown—performing at the old theater it was built on.” tim grabs the paper and crumples it before throwing it across the room. “i was really hoping you wouldn’t recognize it.”

“sorry?” jon says when tim puts his head in his hands. 

“it’s not like you set an evil nineteenth century clown ghost on my brother,” tim says, muffled by his palms. “so what now?”

“i don’t know,” jon says. he says that a lot, doesn’t he? “i think...maybe we have to talk to danny.”

tim sets his chin on closed fists, looking at jon skeptically. “even though he doesn’t remember what happened?”

“maybe he will once he’s had some rest?” jon suggests. at the mere mention of rest, jon yawns. tim catches it immediately. “sorry.”

tim waves the apology away on a second yawn. “fuck me, i really didn’t want to go to sleep.” he smiles at jon, like what can you do. it doesn’t match the fear rolling off him in waves. “you should probably get back to your girlfriend, right?”

“oh, um, well,” jon says. he fidgets with the outer seam of his pants, bunched together at the bend of his knee. “no, i don’t have to get back. i don’t, uh, have a girlfriend to get back to. anymore.”

“oh, shit, sorry,” tim says. “sasha didn’t say anything.”

jon smiles. what can you do. “i didn’t say anything to sasha.”

“you mean i know something before she does for once?” tim says, almost sounding excited. 

“just because i didn’t tell her doesn’t mean she doesn’t already know,” jon replies. 

tim accepts that fact with a nod. he doesn’t move to get off the couch. maybe jon should leave anyway? 

“i don’t want to keep seeing it,” tim says, so quiet jon could pretend he didn’t hear him. tim looks at him, though, and now his expression matches the fear. jon holds his gaze for a second longer than he usually would before he nods. he’s seen what tim saw; he doesn’t want to see it again either, and it’s not even his brother. 

“you know,” he says to his knees once again, “as part of my...abilities, i can keep you from dreaming. i could—stay. while you sleep.”

tim lets out a breath. “yeah?”

jon nods, glancing at tim, who’s staring across the room now. 

“you’re a terrible liar, jon,” he says. “but i wouldn’t be opposed to the company.”

it hasn’t been that long since jon went to bed with someone, but it feels like an eternity. he and georgie had had established sides of the bed (jon against the wall, with georgie between him and the door) but with tim he hesitates to even sit on the mattress until tim has mostly settled. 

“i’m not going to bite,” tim says when he notices jon’s hesitance. “i’m far too tired for that.”

jon huffs and gets under the covers. tim is still, facing away from jon for a moment before he turns onto his back. 

“is it too early in our friendship to ask about cuddling?”

jon considers. “i suppose not.”

“i think i could do with being held after a night like i’ve had,” tim says.

“i think i could do with holding you,” jon says.

“has anyone told you you’re a bit of a shit?” tim asks, already moving to meet jon in the middle of the mattress. 

“a few times,” jon says, circling his arms around tim’s shoulders as tim rests his head under his chin. he feels it when tim sighs, warm breath on his neck. 

“it’s nice,” tim says, sleep-slurred. jon isn’t sure whether he means their current position or jon being a shit; he’d ask, but tim is almost definitely asleep and jon’s not far behind him. 

[artificialqueens]

Mateo's Eight 1/8 (Branjie)--athena2

Summary: 

Con artist Vanessa Mateo has just been released from prison, and she’s planning one last heist to erase her debts and start a new life for herself.

But for this to succeed, she needs the help of the very person who ratted her out to the cops: her ex-girlfriend, Brooke Lynn Hytes.

(An Ocean’s Eight AU).

A/N: I’ve been planning this for a while, and I’m excited to start posting! You also don’t need to see the movie to read this. It follows the main points of the movie, but I did make some changes here and there. Thank you so, so much to Writ, for letting me throw this idea and all my plans for it at you, for always supporting this, and for beta-ing! I’ve never done a full-length movie adaptation like this before, so I would really appreciate any feedback you have!

—

The first thing Vanessa does when she gets out of prison is get a slice of pizza.

Standing on the sidewalk in the black shirt she’d been wearing six months ago, too thin now for the late-winter chill, Vanessa gratefully burns her mouth on the cheese and lets grease drip down her wrist. She never thought she’d miss grease so much. She gets another slice and eats it in a few bites, crunching on the crust as loud as she can, breathing in the oregano and oil like it’s oxygen as winter sun warms her shoulders.

She’s home. She’s free.

There’s enough money in the box of her just-returned things for a cab to her mother’s, where she’ll have to live now that going back to her old–their old–apartment isn’t an option. There’s a heart necklace in there too, but Vanessa doesn’t want to think about that. She shoves it in her pocket to sell later, because she might as well get some money out of the betrayal.

She knocks on the apartment door with still-greasy fingers, and the sight of her mother’s face, so much brighter without the Plexiglass barrier in between them, has her instantly sobbing in her mother’s arms. Vanessa hasn’t been able to touch her for six months, and finds her fingers moving down her mother’s skin, the same caramel color of her own, starting to wrinkle from stress more than age. Vanessa is hit with a surge of guilt that most of the stress is probably from her.

“I’ve missed you, Vanjie.” It’s her mother’s old nickname for her, and Vanessa breaks down further. It gives her some glimmer of hope that everything will be okay, despite the medical bills she knows are lying around somewhere. Those thin pieces of paper have been following them for a year now, weighing down on their shoulders like a ton of bricks.

“I’ve missed you too.”

It’s nice to just be Vanessa for a few minutes, to be her mother’s daughter, the girl who had Rihanna posters on her walls and acted out soap-opera storylines with her dolls and ran around the apartment dodging bedtime.

She lets her mother kiss her until her face is more sticky lip gloss than skin. A loud yipping sound rings out, and something furry launches itself at her legs. Vanessa steps back and scoops up her dog, Riley, his tongue slobbering all over her and tail wagging fast enough to take flight.

She’s home again. She’s normal again. Maybe she’s not returning home to anything exciting, but everything smells like the perfume her mom wears, and the couch cushions are broken in just right, and the walls are still a soothing cream color. It always felt like time stood still here when she was a kid, everything always the same, but now she appreciates the stability, the sense that nothing has changed even if she’s been missing from this world for six months.

Her mother heads to the store so they can have Vanessa’s favorite foods for dinner. Vanessa wants to go, wants to do something as normal as grocery shopping, but she walks outside and gasps, heart hammering.

She can’t do this. Everything seems too big after such a small cell. The massive gray-blue sky is large enough to swallow her up, the buildings like giants looming over her, the street as wide as the ocean. She resigns herself to the soft pink walls of her childhood bedroom. She resented this room as a child for being the size of a shoe-box, wanting the massive rooms kids always had on TV. She has never been more grateful for it than now, secure in its narrow walls. It’s like she can breathe again.

The room is incomplete, missing most of her clothes, her makeup stuff, the fluffy bathroom that usually hangs in her closet, the old silver jewelry box that was her mother’s. Those things were all in their apartment, the apartment Silky and A’keria were supposed to go to and get the stuff for her, because Vanessa knew as soon she was hauled into the cop car that she wasn’t going back to that apartment again.

She doesn’t want to do what she’s about to do, but she has to.

She plugs in her long-dead cell phone and calls Silky and A’keria, who barge through her apartment door 10 minutes later and sweep her into a suffocating group hug. Vanessa’s not surprised to see A’keria wiping her eyes after, and her body burns with love for her two best friends.

“You meet any hot lesbians like on Orange is the New Black?” Silky asks eagerly, and it’s just the thing to break the awkwardness of not knowing what to say, of the realization that Vanessa missed months of dinners and movies, that everyone’s lives moved on while hers was trapped in a cell.

“Not one,” Vanessa says around a laugh. “But this one guard was totally into me. I coulda won her over, I bet. Had a little reunion on the beach, Shawshank Redemption-style.”

“You got game even in prison,” A’keria says, smiling, and Vanessa is just grateful no one’s mentioning the person that landed her in prison.

“I miss anything good?” Vanessa asks.

“A’keria broke up with her bum-ass boyfriend,” Silky reports.

“Even threw his clothes out the window,” A’keria says.

“Damn.” Vanessa sighs.

“You didn’t miss much else, though. Oh, and I got your stuff at my place.” A’keria reassures her.

“Thanks.”

“It’s good to have you back, Vanj.” Her warm hand settles over Vanessa’s shoulder, and she’s not going to cry, she’s not–

“How’s it feel to be free again?” Silky asks.

“Good.” It’s all Vanessa can really manage, the fact that she can wake up and eat and even pee whenever she wants now something she’s still struggling to grasp. It only makes what she’s about to say even harder.

“I have something planned,” Vanessa begins, bracing herself for the reaction.

“Are you out your damn mind?” A’keria yells. “You’re on parole!”

“Say it louder, those people down the street missed it,” Vanessa bites out.

“Look, Van–” Silky says.

“No,” Vanessa cuts her off. “I need to do this. I spent six months on this. I know who the mark is gonna be, I know the people I need to scout and get involved, and I know this can work.” This plan is the only thing that got her through the past six months, working out the details and practicing the exact words needed to build her team while she choked down food that tasted like Styrofoam and wrecked her back on a sorry excuse for a bed. She needs to do this, because otherwise the past six months have really been a waste.

Vanessa plows on, laying down the words she knows will get them. “It’s even bigger than the last one. Money I need. Money you need. Enough to set us all for life.”

Silky crosses her arms and stays silent. It’s no secret Silky is constantly in danger of losing her teaching job with all the budget cuts the school faces. She’d taken up street scams and pickpocketing–skills she taught Vanessa–to pay off her student loans and buy supplies and snacks for her classroom, which have to come out of her own (or some unsuspecting person’s) pocket.

A’keria lowers the index finger she was about to wag in Vanessa’s face like some old schoolteacher, no doubt thinking of her home jewelry business that never took off, the dead-end jewelry store job that keeps her home with her overbearing mother and asshole stepfather. With the money Vanessa’s talking, A’keria can buy her own damn island.

“We’re listening,” Silky says finally.

Vanessa fights her grin as she runs through the basics, alive with the familiar buzz of laying down a plan, watching it come to life from her mind. She doesn’t mention the full price tag but tells them both all their financial problems will be solved in one night.

By the time she’s done, they’re both onboard, and the fun begins.

—

Vanessa has to take deep breaths, her nails digging into A’keria’s arm as they walk down the sidewalk to get her next member in.

“You good, V?” A’keria asks gently.

Vanessa just nods, because this breathless fear of being outside when it was all she dreamed of for six months isn’t something she expected, or knows how to deal with. All she can do is keep breathing, keep moving, keep focusing on her plan.

She’s chosen all the players carefully, people she knows herself or knows through others. They’re not all scammers, just people with enough to lose, who can be easily persuaded into her plan and can be trusted to carry out their end of the plan.

The storefront is outlined in red, flowy dresses in reds and pinks and golds filling the window, some brightness on this dreary street. A bell chimes as they open the door, welcoming them to Red Hot by Scarlet Envy.

Scarlet is perched behind the counter, twirling her bright red hair. Vanessa’s only met her once at a party, but she hasn’t changed, still happy with her up-and-coming celebrity design label despite the debt and shady loans she buried herself in to make it happen.

After a hug from Scarlet, Vanessa begins just as she planned. “How would you like to dress Plastique Tiara for the Met Ball?”

Scarlet’s eyes widen. “Are you kidding me? I’d love to! But she’s Plastique, and I’m, well…” she gestures to her small store with its water-damaged ceiling.

Vanessa smiles. “I can make it happen. I just need one small favor. One small favor for me, and you dress Plastique Tiara, you get a bigger store, and”–Vanessa lowers her voice– “all the money troubles you got yourself in are gone.”

Scarlet blinks, mouth falling open, not even bothering to deny Vanessa’s information.

“Okay,” she agrees.

Yvie takes mere seconds, despite being the only person Vanessa has no dirt on to coerce into it. She’s an old friend of Silky’s who does stuff with computers, so far beyond Vanessa’s basic social media stalking skills that she doesn’t even try to understand it. They meet at some internet cafe and Vanessa is only one sip into the overpriced coffee she missed so much when Yvie agrees, saying she’d love to stick it to the man and asking if there’ll be snacks at the meeting tomorrow. Vanessa makes a mental note to buy chips.

Nina is a little harder to convince. She has a nice house in the suburbs, working over-the-phone scams and hijacking deliveries from transport trucks–blenders, coffeemakers, designer suitcases, bikes, air hockey tables–that she keeps or sells for profit.

Aside from the scamming, she’s goodness personified, the last person you’d suspect of anything, perfect for what Vanessa needs from her.

“Well,” Nina says, “I could use a little excitement.”

Vanessa puts a check mark next to her name.

—

Vanessa scrapes her plate clean at dinner, her mother’s cooking the last thing that truly makes her at home, comforting and cozy like a warm blanket. The joy continues as she slides into bed, on a real mattress, ready to fall asleep with the hope of the freedom she’s getting herself, until she remembers the last name on her list. She doesn’t want to call this person. She can’t call this person, and instead she calls A’keria to see if there’s a way around it.

“Tell me the truth,” Vanessa begins. “Do I need to call her?”

“Who? You mean Br–”

“Don’t say her name to me,” Vanessa snaps.

“I know things didn’t end well with you two–”

“She ratted me out to the cops! I went to prison because of her!” The anger burns through her, fresh on the thought that she went to prison by not just anyone, but by someone she had slept with and kissed and even loved. Six months of itchy clothes and a freezing cell, of having to see her own mother through a screen, of feeling absolutely worthless, of missing family dinners and not seeing her friends, all because that bitch couldn’t keep her mouth shut.

“Hey,” A’keria says calmly. “I know that. I know. But you have to call her, Vanj. She’s your right-hand woman. We can’t pull this off without her. You know we can’t.”

A’keria is right, which only makes things worse. Vanessa needs to call her. No one can keep things organized like her, stick exactly to the schedule like a human clock. Vanessa can pretend all she wants that this plan will work as it stands, but she knows in her heart she needs to make that one last phone call.

—

Vanessa strides to the counter confidently, trying not to act like the coats in her arms are worth a whole month’s rent. Being calm is the key, like she buys coats with three zeros in the price tag all the time.

“Hello.” She keeps her voice soft and polite as she approaches the counter.

“Hi,” the cashier says. She’s around twenty and Vanessa has been watching for a few days to make sure she gets this specific cashier. One who’s new, but not new enough to need a manager.

“I’d like to return these.” Vanessa plunks the coats on the counter, rehearsing her answer for the next inevitable question.

“Do you have your receipt?”

“I don’t, but I never wore them. They still have the tags and everything.” She even grabs one and shows it to the cashier, who smiles sympathetically, having no idea Vanessa just grabbed it off the rack a few minutes ago.

“We really need a receipt to return them. Do you have an account with us? Or the credit card you bought them with?”

Now is the time. Vanessa has seen enough middle-aged white ladies with expired coupons in her own retail days to get this next part right. She purses her lips and straightens her posture. “I’ve been shopping here for years, this is ridiculous! I just bought these.” Just a touch of anger, not enough to attract attention.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. If you’d like to speak with customer service—“

Vanessa loosens her shoulders, putting a smile back on. “You know what, I’ll just keep them. Could I trouble you for a bag?”

Vanessa walks away from the counter with her coats neatly folded inside the bag, heart racing and giddy with joy. She did it. She can sell two and start working on her father’s medical bills, and maybe give the third to her mother; her worn coat can’t offer much warmth in this November chill. She’s so lost in her excitement that she doesn’t notice where she’s going and walks right into a wall.

“Shit.” She takes a step back. A very tall, very blonde, very green-eyed wall. “Oh, sorry, I…” she forgets every word in the English language, forgets even her own name, at the blonde’s shy smile.

“You were good. Really good,” the blonde says, and something in her reluctant tone suggests she doesn’t give compliments often, that this praise truly means something.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Vanessa tries to stay cool, even as the blonde’s flashing green eyes set her whole body on fire. She had only prepared for getting caught at the register, not by strange blonde women.

“A cashier who wouldn’t need a manager. Waiting towards the end of a shift, when no one gives a shit anymore,” the blonde continues. “Even the coats. Expensive, but not enough to have security tags on them.”

She’s caught. Caught on her first real con, aside from the street scams she’s done. Vanessa swallows hard, considering her chances of outrunning the blonde’s mile-long legs in their slim red pants. Damn, Vanessa really needs to stop staring at those legs if this lady is about to bust her…

“Hey, I’m not gonna rat you out,” the blonde says, like she’s reading her mind. “I’m just saying you’re good, and if you ever want a partner…” She pulls a piece of paper from her glittery silver blazer and scribbles something down.

Vanessa reads a phone number in tiny, neat handwriting.

“I’ll consider it,” Vanessa says, though she’ll probably have to sit on her hands to keep herself from calling the second she gets home.

The blonde smiles. “I’m Brooke.”

“Vanessa.”

—

Vanessa holds out as long as she can, until it’s nearing 1am, moonlight arcing through her window. It’s almost like she’s purposely sabotaging herself, waiting and waiting to lower the chance that someone will answer.

Her thumb hovers over the phone. The contact name is still in there as it was before prison, with a bright red heart emoji after it. Vanessa remembers deliberating over putting it there, finally deciding it was okay after their second date.

Aside from her mother’s cell and the really good Thai place down the street from her old apartment, it’s the only phone number she has memorized. She could probably dial it in her sleep. She used to double- and triple-text that number, sending pictures of dogs she saw on the street, selfies in bed with the comforter revealing just enough skin, rants about how slow everyone in front of her was walking, goofy pictures of herself trying on enormous sunglasses bigger than her head.

And the replies used to come just as fast, Vanessa’s heart leaping with each one, her fingers flying to the phone to see what texts she’d gotten back.

She presses the call button, breath caught in her throat, half hoping there won’t be an answer and half-hoping there will be.

All she gets is a robotic monotone telling her this number is no longer in service, and Vanessa releases her air, unsure if she’s relieved or not. She really doesn’t want to hear that voice, but she’s going to need to if she wants this to work. Should she try to Google her? Or maybe…

The burner phone.

They had both discussed business through those old Nokias. The odds that she still has hers, and still has the thing on, are slim to none. But Vanessa thinks of how hard it will be to find a job now, how hard it will be to start over after prison. She thinks of her mother working too hard in her hospital shifts, the medical bills still unpaid. She thinks of all the people she had promised this would be a success, all the debts that would be repaid, all the freedoms won. She has to try.

Her fingers move without thought over the phone, like just another day, and she almost drops the phone when it rings. The rings trill in her ear for what feels like hours, her heart racing. She’s about to hang up when the line clicks.

There’s a pause, a sharp intake of breath on the other line. Vanessa remembers those gasps of air, had pulled them out of soft lips as her hands tangled in that blonde hair…

“Who is this?”

The nerve. Vanessa’s fist clenches in anger. If it wasn’t a Nokia, she probably would’ve bent her phone in half. The nerve for that voice to be so soft and hesitant, when it had caused her half a year behind bars. The nerve of asking who it is when she knows damn well it can’t be anyone else.

“You know who this is, Brooke. We need to talk.”