#still trying to come up with a tenor i wouldn't feel bad putting in this role for my fantasy cast

[monotonous-minutia]

Cast of Mignon: reality check

(apologies in advance if none of this makes sense. It’s a pretty obscure opera.)

Mignon (Sperata), mezzo-soprano

Mezzo heroines for the win! Gets a relatively famous mezzo aria (”Connais-tu le pays”) Here portrayed as older than her literary counterpart, but still unfortunately in love with one of the biggest jerks in opera and literature in general (sorry not sorry Goethe). Canonically genderfluid because Barbier and Carré are awesome. She deserves much more than what this world throws at her (including Wilhelm) and unfortunately her naivete is probably what leads her to believe she doesn’t have the ability to seek out better things. If she were given the chance to explore the world and gain experience outside her former captivity (and Wilhelm), she would be better able to make smarter choices. Aside from this general misfortune, she is extremely sweet and adorable, altogether too accommodating (a trait that literally almost gets her killed). She should have gone off with Lothario after he adopts her, like he asked her to, and the two of them could have travelled to her homeland and made the discovery of their relation without Wilhelm. Also, she should totally date Frédéric. Although getting together with Wilhelm isn’t the ideal happy ending, she does find her father and her home and her real name (Sperata). It’s unfortunate we had to wait three hours to be able to call her that.

Wilhelm, tenor

A student. Classic example of the Dick Tenor. Basically wants to roam the world without commitments or consequences, which truthfully is relatable; but when it’s at the expense of the well-being of people in your life, it’s not really fair. He is decently nice to Mignon, taking care of her when she starts following him around and when she gets sick. However, the fact that he only starts to fall for her when she presents as feminine is unfair and tbh kinda gross. He does not heed the warnings of Laerte, who (as seen below) has gotta win some kind of record for tenor braincells. Wilhelm is totally smitten with Philine because of her charm and her fame; we can’t really blame him for that, since pretty much everyone is. And yeah, he does risk his life to save Mignon. Still doesn’t save his dick personality, though. Overall he just needs an attitude adjustment, a splash of reality, and probably a good slap in the face. (Sorry, I just really do not like Wilhelm.)

Lothario, bass

A wandering musician. Genuine Good Bass. Traditional operatic adopted father figure, but in this case, it just so happens that the child he rescues and adopts actually is his kid. This isn’t discovered until the end, though. He’s clearly traumatized, and of course society interprets this as him having lost his mind. He turns to music for comfort. Constantly searching for the thing he has lost, but he can’t remember what that is. Primarily only interacts with Mignon, whom he tries to protect from the rest of the world. Unfortunately he is also very suggestable, which leads to the unfortunate incident of Philine’s theater getting burned down when Mignon wishes a fiery death on her rival. Once he rediscovers his identity as both Mignon’s father and a nobleman, it’s clear he’s going to put these roles to good use and make the world a better place. Now if only he’d have the sense to kick Wilhelm out.

Philine, soprano

A singer and actress. Thing is, Philine would probably be more of a halfway decent person if she weren’t infatuated with Wilhelm. After all, she is the one who paid for Mignon’s freedom, and in the extended ending she has a moment where she almost apologizes. Plus, the biggest mean thing she does wasn’t meant to be life-threatening for those involved, and she only did it because she was jealous of the attention Wilhelm was giving Mignon. Another case of sopranos losing brain cells around tenors. In general, she’s still a vain, self-centered drama queen. We can understand her desire to live life to the fullest; if only it weren’t at the expense of those around her. Truthfully, she and Wilhelm are probably a better match for each other than the (operatic) canon couple, because of their mutual obliviousness to the needs of others and their similarly self-absorbed attitudes. In the original (extended) ending, she does say she’s going to get together with Frédéric, but for his sake, let’s hope that doesn’t happen.

Laerte, tenor

An actor in Philine’s troupe. Plays the role of Genuinely Good Tenor since Wilhelm can’t be bothered to. Probably the smartest person in this opera. He sees what everyone else refuses to see and tries to be practical, but that’s hard when you’re surrounded by oblivious lovebirds. Primary function is to provide sarcastic commentary. Has a delightful little number where he teases Philine. Tries to warn Wilhelm against falling for Philine, but of course Wilhelm doesn’t listen. Laerte clearly feels for both Mignon and Frédéric. However, he has basically given up on trying to interfere in other people’s lives. Why he continues to follow Philine around is anyone’s guess. He probably just enjoys observing the drama that consistently surrounds her.

Frédéric, mezzo, is absolutely never a tenor because that would be ridiculous

One of the most adorable and underrated trouser roles in opera. As per usual, very much crushing on the soprano and jealous of her affections for the tenor. Has an absolutely delightful number when he sneaks into Philine’s room. Draws his sword on Wilhelm as a challenge when they find they’ve each snuck in to meet Philine in her room. Wilhelm clearly does not take him seriously. Pretty much no one does, in fact. He does laugh at Mignon when he sees her in a dress, which isn’t very nice, especially given her self-esteem is almost nonexistent to begin with. He’d probably gain a few brain cells if he gave up on Philine. It’s insinuated at the end (in the original ending, at least) that he does, in fact, wind up with Philine. However, I’m still in camp Mezzos Should Run Off Together, and I think if Frédéric lets go of his obsession with Philine, and Mignon lets go of her obsession with Wilhelm, the mezzos could totally get together.

Jarno, bass

Functional purpose is to be the one who kidnapped Mignon and eventually sells her to Wilhelm (who sets her free), but is also a really insulting portrayal of stereotypes surrounding Romani people, which isn’t entirely the librettist’s fault because it’s based on the original source material, but still, Barbier and Carré could have done better. But this opera is pretty messed up in general. They probably should have just picked a different story.

[vampire-the-askerade]

Beckett x reader

[I kinda mixed your two asks into one. I hope you don't mind.]

It had been a few years since you became Beckett's assistant. You knew enough basic history that you could be of use to him, and he didn't blame you in the least for wanting to get away from all that craziness in California. Not that it was much better everywhere else, but it seemed to be extra concentrated there. He had to admit it was rather nice to have you around. Usually, Beckett didn't care for company, and even the few people that he would consider to be friends couldn't even really handle his almost overbearing personality firsthand for more then a few months at a time.

At the present the two of you were in Italy; more specifically Venice. Beckett had gotten a lead on some old texts that were from the starts of the Giovanni clan as kindred. The only thing that he had left to do before he could start exploring the city was to get the okay from the Prince of the city. It was nothing that Beckett hadn't dealt with before. Some young, power hungry upstart that thought he was the best thing that happened to kindredom. Thankfully, the meeting was finally ending and Beckett got the permission that he needed. Perhaps as a way to show off, the prince insisted on walking the historian to the door himself.

If Beckett were honest with himself, he was a tad bit jealous of some of these young ones. They were all picture perfect, model-like, almost porcelain looking, and embraced in the absolute prime of their lives and so would be that way for the foreseeable future; unlike him. Sure, he wasn't an old man when he was embraced, but compared to a majority of other kindred it sometimes felt like it. He didn't let it bother him most of time, but every once in a while it would creep into the back of his mind.

When the prince and Beckett got to the small, yet elegant waiting room that you were in, the prince almost immediately gravitated over to you. "And, who is it that we have here?" His voice was so smooth it could almost be described as silky; the slight tenor tone to it made the delivery resemble a song bird. You went to introduce yourself, but were cut off by Beckett. "This my assistant. The one I told you of earlier." His voice rather curt and teetering on rude. This caught both the prince and yourself off guard, but after a very slight moment he brushed off the gangrel's tone. He had always heard that Beckett could have a slight problem with conversation as he spent the majority of his time alone, so this must be one of those cases.

The young Ventrue turned his attention back to you. "I had no idea your assistant would be so stunning! It is quite the pleasure to meet you." He crooned before placing a kiss on your hand. Beckett didn't say anything else, but you could almost feel the bad energy coming from where he was standing. "If you would like, I could show you around the city. I think I don't have much more on my schedule for awhile." the price offered. "Thank you, but I'm sure you're very busy, I wouldn't want to-" "Please, do not worry! It would absolutely be my pleasure." He insisted.

"Perhaps, I should rephrase for the both of us. We are very busy. Thank you for your time, sir." Beckett hissed as he practically pushed you out the door. The walk home was mostly quiet because you could tell Beckett was in a foul mood. Eventually, you decided break the silence. "Did you not get permission to look around?" "Hm? Oh, no. I did." He was short with his answer, so you didn't press it. After another few moments you decided to try to joke about it to try to lighten the mood. "That prince was pushy, huh? Bet you he thinks that he can just talk to outsiders with his fancy Italian, and they'll do whatever he wants." You heard a indignant huff from him, as he grumbled, "I can also speak Italian..."

The two of you made it into the hotel room that you were sharing(since you both didn't really sleep and just needed it to get out of the sun during the day there wasn't anything really awkward about it, and it saved on costs) and you sat on the small love seat toward the corner of the room. Beckett had actually managed to get a rather nice room, his career actually being a lot more prosperous then his older, worn cloths would lead one to believe. After a few moments Beckett flopped down on the piece of furniture, and practically on top of you with how small it was. You thought the size of the chair was the reason, anyway; then you felt an arm go around your shoulders.

"Beckett, are you feeling alright?" You questioned the man that was basically two steps away from lying on top of you. "You know that we can't get sick." He answered flatly. "Alright, smart ass. You known what I meant." This caused Beckett to chuckle. "My head does hurt a bit." He sat up and looked at you with a sly smile and continued, "If you're in such a motherly mood, perhaps you could kiss it better?" You raised an eyebrow, "Yeah, I'm sure you would like that." You both laughed it off and went back to what you were doing.

You sat there doing this and that on your phone and while he was reading a book of some kind. You're hand had a will of its own and found its way into Beckett's almost impossibly thick hair without you realizing it. Beckett, however, noticed immediately. He looked over from his book and toward you. He loved the feeling of it, and it almost instantly put him at ease if he was being honest. What he didn't like was the fact that you didn't even know you were doing anything; he could tell by the look on your face that you were clueless to your own actions. He eventually decided not to say anything, and you continued to absentmindedly toy with his hair until your finger caught on a snag, causing him to hiss slightly. You immediately removed your hand when you heard him and realized what you were doing; clearing your throat and choosing to pretend nothing just transpired.

After a few more minutes, you stood and walked over to grab your jacket. This made Beckett perk up and watch you as you headed to the door. "And, where are you going?" You stopped at his question and turned back toward him. "Well, I thought that I'd walk around a bit. See what there is to do, and maybe get a feel for what kindred are up to around here." "You can't!" Beckett almost yelled, and you jumped a little bit from his sudden outburst. He cleared his throat and un-tensed, but just by a margin.

"Why not?" You questioned slowly, still unsure about what was going on with him right now. "Because, it's too close to dawn." He tried to warn you, but you knew better. "Beckett, it's only 2:30." It was obvious he knew he was wrong, and tried to think of another reason quickly. "It could be dangerous." You disproved his reason again. "In an area swarming with kine?" He tried one more time, trying to think of anything at this point. "There might be...werewolves."

"Werewolves?"

"Yes... werewolves."

You let out a exasperated sigh. "You think I'm going to meet up with the prince, don't you?" Beckett didn't respond verbally, but the sour look on his face let you know that you were correct. "How would I even contact him, Beckett? You pushed me out the door two seconds after I met the guy. I don't think he even knows my name." You tried to point out. Beckett just grumbled something that you didn't hear and sat back down on the love seat. "Would you like me to stay in for the night?" You asked as you took your jacket back off. "No. Go do whatever you want." He grumbled. "Okay, I'll stay in then." "I told you to go!" Beckett growled as you say back down next to him. "Nope, I'm staying in because you're jealous."

At this Beckett looked almost offended. "I am not jealous!" He huffed. "Right, because I'm just an assistant." You chuckled and stood back up. Suddenly, you were pulled back down so you were on top of Beckett. "No, you are not just an assistant. You're my assistant!" He gripped the back of your head and slammed your lips into his. You were surprised and didn't know what to do at first, and he was about to stop you when you started to kiss him back with as much fervor as he had. Beckett practically purred and wrapped his other arm around your waist.

Sharp nails threatened to dig into your skin as your hands found their way into his thick, raven locks. You could feel his body practically melt underneath you when they did, and you decided to test your luck, and gave a handful of his hair a tug. He gave a small groan, so you tried it again, getting the same result. You pulled a bit harder and he growled. Beckett grabbed a section of your hair and gave it a firm yank, making you gasp and break the kiss. "Turnabout is fair play." He mused and you could practically feel the hubris radiating off of him.

Beckett sat up with you still in his lap. "That was...unexpected." you laughed, and Beckett joined you before teasing, "Was it though?" You had to agree with him. The two of you had been flirting with each other almost nonstop for the better part of a year now. You ran your hands up and down the nape of his neck and he gave a contented hum.

"Someone seems happy." You teased as you ran your nails across the back of his neck, and he leaned into it so much you thought he might topple over. "I usually am when I get my hands on difficultly procured rarities." He almost sighed his words as your hands moved their onslaught to his upper back. Beckett's hands ghosted up and down your sides, and he leaned forward to give you another kiss; this one much shorter then the last.

"Perhaps, we can put my archeological and anthropological skills to use?" Beckett smirked at his own suggestion, but you didn't quite know where he was going with it. He went to explain, never losing an ounce of his smug allure. "In the way of anthropology, I want to learn all of the intricacies and preferences of a very specific person in recent history. Any guesses on who that might be?" His hand found you hair again, and gave it another pull. You knew he was trying(and succeeding) to gain the upper hand. But, you were at least going to tease him a little by feigning innocence of what he was hinting at.

"Is it Winston Churchill?" You asked with fake curiosity in your voice. This caused him to chuckle and mutter, "Very cheeky." as he pecked you on the lips before continuing. "As far as my archeology experience is concerned, you could say I have a sudden urge for you to assist me with, shall we say, some cave exploration. Deep, deep, cave exploration."