#Mozart-Fantasy

[only5590648]

(Бахруз Джафаров)

[gasparodasalo]

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756-91) - Fantasia for Piano in d-minor, KV 397. Performed by Jörg Demus, fortepiano.

[lost-soul-in-time]

Hunger. Completely consuming him every moment he’s transformed. There hasn’t been a harvest of wolfsbane yet, leaving him completely to his own instincts. The sensibilities and reservations of a priest and sense of a man replaced entirely by the beasts wants. Wandering miles away from the temple and little village he knew, Ambrose spots his prey. A deer, antlers haloing the overarching moon that drove him here.

In an instant, his maw deep into its ribs, thick tongue lapping at the entrails and swallowing its liver whole. Blonde curly fur stained with entrails, he continues to root around the corpse. Continually stripping flesh from bone with precise flicks of its head, completely unaware of the world outside him and the prey. @waveringfaith

Oliver has memorized the names and faces of every living person that lived on his side of the forest. An apparently rabid wolf roaming the grounds was certainly not what he would’ve expected to be warned about upon one of his guards hurriedly rushing into his office. The day had dragged out uneventfully, and the prospect of something which could bring potential benefit makes him step out to investigate it himself.

The guards are ordered to stay in the castle. They’d be of no use. If the beast were to attack, Oliver had his own creatures who wouldn’t hesitate to do the same.

The smell of a fresh kill makes him slow to a halt, hand clutching the handle of his sword in precaution as he steps slowly, tentatively towards the beast. Even hunched over, Oliver could tell it easily towers over any normal human. It’s obviously incredibly destructive.

Perfect.

[chessalbaneze]

Sarastro concept sketch, sketched in ballpoint pen, orange sharpie, white and black crayons.

In my interpretation of Mozart's fantasy opera I wanted both the Night and the Day to be in the wrong, with our protagonists Tamino and Pamina providing balance between the two extremes. Sarastro's kingdom is a place of emotionless logic, where they literally siphon emotions out of their bodies through installed gold and brass tubes.

At the head of all this is Sarastro. I wanted to make him the epitome of 18th century Enlightenment, hence his wig, his banyan, and the machinery all being 1700s in design. As I was adding rolls in his wig, they began to look more and more like silk worms, which I embraced. I like it for some reason. Sarastro also has a pope-like look I have yet to draw. This is his in-his-study look.

Sarastro's kingdom and the man himself are stagnant, drooping with age and stillness. You can't see it here but his wig will be excessively powdered, with the powder falling on his shoulders like dust in an attic. His ideas are old and no longer applicable. These kingdoms are both dying in their extremes, but they won't acknowledge it. The little statues holding up the sun on his desk corners are celebrations of the "ideal" male body (ancient Greek and with a white lens) but purposefully lacking genitalia: that demonized natural part of the naked form that promotes too much pleasure. The metal dangling from the front of his wig are clock weights.

He is also available as a small print in my shop!

[sunpraiserarts]

Prince Hyacinth from Kingdom of Back 🌒🌘 (yep, kinda fairytale about Nannerl Mozart, I highly recommend to read)

[senkuishigaymi]

Dead Poets Society but make it Ms. Peregrine's Home but also make it Babel and perhaps Alice in Wonderland:

A school for the quaints and the peculiars, deep inside the forest but also near the sea. You get there with train and get off the station where none of the kids ever come back. Your parents, concerned, not sure what to do with you, send you there. It's the place where there are kids like us. They wish you a nice stay, maybe nicer than home... (be it with the kindest intention, be it not).

There are teachers... I mean of course (adult supervision!), the kind professors or the funky chefs or the kind gardener lady. But here's the catch: the only subjects they taught are humanities. They teach you how to Mozart or Monet, how to Poe or Plato. Dead languages, ancient excerpts, and maybe pentagrams and reliving myths (as long as you don't get caught).

But also here's another thing: you and your funky friend groups (who does not only recite poems or memorize lines or speak 3 languages) (but also talks to the dead, and can float, and could converse with the rabbits) have questions you ought to answer. To where does the rusty door behind the wild grape vines lead? What's behind the towering, dusty bookshelves? Shouldn't you take a closer look at the cave near the beach?

Yes. Maybe it will take you somewhere, another place like this school. A place where there are kids like us. Maybe, just maybe.

[onyxedskies]

if anyone was wondering about the 2 truths and a lie thing i’ve been playing professionally since i was 12

[annachum]

A moodboard I did of a Disney Magic Flute idea, setting mainly in post 1940s Egypt and also Pyramidus ( the magical realm where Pamina is from )

🤩🤩🥺🥺🤩🥺🥺

[witekspicsbanknotes]

Fancy serie of banknotes: DRAGONES: Tesla, Mozart, Stalin, Hitler.

[faniacmag]

The Magic Flute (2023) - Official Trailer | HD - YouTube

[gasparodasalo]

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756-91) - Fantasia No. 2 for Piano in c-minor, KV 396/385f. Completed by Maximilian Stadler (1748-1833). Performed by Jörg Demus, fortepiano.

[mabhollywood]

(Matías Antonio Bombal)

[lost-soul-in-time]

Adrian had not been pleased, but not with Ace. His brother hadn't scolded him at all, in fact, he'd seemed very worried about him. Of course, he'd left almost as soon as he'd made sure his little brother was alive. But at least nobody important had been angry at Ace.

Father had taken time out of his busy schedule to dine with him, and although it had been silent and maybe a little awkward, Ace had still been really happy.

After everything had been said and done, he'd gone back to his solitude. Of course. And he noticed the guard rotation had increased, too. The family really didn't want anything else to happen to him. This also meant he wasn't allowed his occasional walks to the village. So it was a lot of reading, a lot of praying, and a lot of thinking about Oliver.

Ace is supposed to be reflecting, alone in the chapel, but all he can think about is his not-lord and the moments they shared. The kisses. He yearns so much for those moments. The feelings he had felt, more than the lack of fear. What a childish crush, he thinks, yearning for someone he had barely known and who he would never see again.

Oliver has been violent. More-so than usual.

When his hands feel like they lack any warmth, and that feeling has only increased every day, he beats a prisoner until hot blood spills over his tightly-wound fists. It’s usually the same people that come to his mind during these times. The King, the men who work for him, the corrupt Lords of the kingdom — one punch is dedicated to each one of them. Except there are new faces that have slipped into his violent head.

A useless envoy, a guard gripping pale skin too tightly, Adrian Graves, the man his men were supposed to bring to him that night. When the King is disposed of, the Graves family will be the first he’ll go after.

That was his plan, until one of them had managed to slip into his waking thoughts.

He’d sent one of the shadow-cloaked souls to blend into its surroundings and keep an eye on Ace — Adam, he’d learned afterwards, but it doesn’t sound right for the younger Lord. It sounds just as pretentious as his family members.

In nearly every dark corner, there lies a soul staring unwaveringly at the unbeknownst people of the house. It watches dinners occur, visits to chapels, worried siblings fretting over the other, moments of silent loneliness, and when the sun is no longer shining down on the world and its Master’s infatuated soul falls victim to slumber, it scurries back to Oliver and informs him of anything of interest. Just like the obedient, mindless things they were.

All he needed to know was he was alright.

On the third night of Oliver’s messy departure from his home, Ace would find a familiar dark black resting over his bed, the red of a rose tainted by the same hue which had taken his hand and pressed a lingering kiss to his knuckles not long ago. Not only a gift, but a silent reminder that he’d return, that sapphire blue invades his days in a way like never before.

It’s a reminder of the Villain’s presence, the deadly creature of a man who would break down each wall brick by brick if necessary to keep his promise.

Patience. All in good time.

[vixen-academia]

Free MIT online courses that sound interesting

Arts & Literature

Introduction to World Music

Reading Fiction

Literary Interpretation: Virginia Woolf's Shakespeare

Introduction to Photography

Foundations of Western Culture II: Renaissance to Modernity

Studies in Poetry - Briths Poetry and the Sciences of the Mind

Studies in Literary History: Modernism: From Nietzsche to Fellini

Screen Women: Body Narratives in Popular American Film

Studies in Poetry: "What's the Use of Beauty"

Queer Cinema and Visual Culture

Monteverdi to Mozart: 1600 - 1800

Writing and Experience: Reading and Writing Autobiography

Advanced Topics in Hispanic Literature and Film: The Films of Luis Buñel

Major Authors: Rewriting Genesis: "Paradise Lost" and Twentieth-Century Fantasy

Arthurian Literature and Celtic Colonization

Contemporary Literature: Britsh Novel Now

Studies in Poetry: 20th Century Irish Poetry: The Shadow of W. B. Yeats

Writing About Literature: Writing About Love

Introduction to European and Latin American Fiction: Great Books On The Page and On The Screen

Popular Culture and Narrative: Use and Abuse of the Fairy Tale

Victorian Literature and Culture

Reading Poetry

English Renaissance Drama: Theatre and Society in the Age of Shakespeare

Introduction to Fiction

International Woman's Voice

Major Authors: Oscar Wilde and the "90's"

Prizewinners: Nobelistas

American Authors: American Women Authors

Shakespeare, Film and Media

Japanese Literature and Cinema

Woman's Novels: A Weekly Book Club

Classics of Chinese Literature

Major English Novels

Topics in South Asia Literature and Culture

Introduction to Literary Theory

History & Social Studies

American Classics

The Middle East in the 20th Century

Africa and the Politics of Knowledge

The Rise of Modern Science

European Imperialism in the 19th and 20th Century

Philosophy of Love

Human Rights: At Home and Abroad

The Nature of Creativity

Introduction to Comparative Politics

Riots, Rebellions, Revolutions

Introduction to the History of Technology

Ancient Philosophy

Youth Political Participation

[reccyls]

Ikemen Vampire JP Elections 2024 results

And the categories (left to right, Childhood, Gravure, Fantasy theme)

As the first place category winners, we will get special gacha illustrations of:

Young Mozart

Gravure magazine Arthur

Fantasy-themed Vincent

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Symphony No. 40 - Jaime Reyes X GN Reader

Title: Symphony No. 40

Jaime Reyes X GN Reader

Additional Characters: Khaji-Da, and Milagro (Mentioned)

WC: 1,649

Warnings: Teasing, flirting, slight suggestion (nothing major), Blue Beetle canon violence mentioned very briefly, cuddling, nicknames, and so much fluff

The soft melody of classical music coming from your radio filled your small bedroom. It was a song that you recognized, but you didn't know whether it was Mozart or Beethoven. Either way, you were just enjoying your quiet night in, humming along to the music as you read your fantasy book in your hands. 

It was one of your favorites, about a young woman who was chosen to become the new Elf Queen. It was full of adventure, romance, and it even made you laugh most of the time. You really liked one of the characters, Torien, she was the kingdom's head guard. She was witty and funny, and she reminded you of a friend of yours. 

Just as you were getting to the good part, with Allena, the new Elf Queen, and Filius, a human traveler, there was a knock on your window. Pausing, you looked up from your book pages, letting out a sigh but smiling nonetheless when you saw Jaime at your window. 

Getting up, you head over to the window. Unlocking it, you pushed the window up, allowing Jaime to hop in. You helped pull him in, your smile widening slightly as you watched him stumble a bit. It surprised you that even though he was a superhero, he still had a hard time getting into your room.

Letting out his own sign, he stood up straight, giving you his charming, but sheepish smile. "Hey, sorry for just coming over without letting you know first." He apologized, rubbing the nape of his neck as he looked at you with a bashful smile, "Didn't mean to interrupt your reading."

Shaking your head, you smiled and waved a hand dismissively. "No worries, Jaime, are you alright?" 

Jaime shrugged, dropping his hand to stuff both of them in his jacket pockets, "Just tired. And I wanted to see you." 

With your heart skipping a beat from his sweet comment, you smiled mischievously as you glanced from Jaime, to your bed, and back. "Too tired for cuddling?" You asked, innocently, fidgeting with your fingers in front of you.

"Well, I'm never too tired to cuddle you." Jaime answered, looking away. A blush crept onto his cheeks as he rubbed the back of his neck again. 

You couldn't help but admire him for a moment, absolutely smitten by him. Your heart fluttered a little as you walked up to him, cupping his cheek. Smiling softly, you leaned up and gave him a gentle peck on the lips. "You're always welcome to come here whenever you want. No matter what time it is. I'm always up for cuddles, or talking, or anything really..." You trailed off, shrugging a shoulder as Jaime took a step closer, his hands coming out of his pockets to hold onto your waist. 

"Anything?" Jaime asked, a small smirk appearing on his face as he gazed down at you intently, making your own cheeks feel warm as you swallowed thickly. 

"Well, yes,.." You admitted slowly, looking up at him through your eyelashes, as Jaime gulped. 

"Jaime, your serotonin and oxytocin levels are rising at an alarming rate." Khaji-Da's voice echoed through his mind, making Jaime let out a small huff.

"Shut up," He spoke softly, making you raise an eyebrow, only for the young superhero to shake his head, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, "Not you, mi amor. Khaji-Da." He explained, making you hum.

"What did Khaji say?" You asked, generally interested as Jaime just smiled at the nickname you gave his scarab. 

Jaime then shook his head lightly, his curls bouncing as he did so, "Nothing,"

You hummed, not really believing him as you grabbed his hand from your cheek. Stepping back, you pulled Jaime to your bed. Flopping down on your side of the bed, you were about to grab your book when Jaime plopped down beside you. 

You watched as he nudged your legs open a bit before laying down in between them. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he pressed the side of his face into your stomach, inhaling deeply before releasing a soft groan. You laughed quietly at the sight, resting a hand gently on his head. 

Brushing your fingers through his hair, Jaime sighed in content as you played with his curls. You were so amazed by how soft his curls were, it was like petting clouds. You knew that he loved it when you played with his hair as well. You had found that it relaxed him greatly. 

Biting your bottom lip, you grabbed your book with your free hand. Opening it to the page you were last on, you got back to reading; your other hand running through Jaime's hair, occasionally gently scratching at his scalp which sent shivers down his spine. 

As you began to hum to the classical music, a small smile grew on Jaime's lips. Jaime never thought he'd find someone like you, someone so amazing in every sense of the word. Who was understanding and patient with him. Who was funny and who he was absolutely in love with. 

He could feel himself growing drowsy and heavy against your stomach, but he forced himself to stay awake. For you. For this moment. He wanted to be present and awake.

Your eyes glanced at Jaime, a soft smile on your face as you noticed how exhausted he seemed to be.

"You should sleep. Take a nap, honey." You suggested, brushing your thumb down the space in between his brows and down the slope of his nose. Jaime opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again after a few moments, closing his eyes as he leaned further into your touch.

Jaime knew he shouldn't go to sleep, but he was too comfortable to argue with your wishes. He was so tired, and so captivated by you, that he couldn't even think properly anymore. Jaime let himself succumb to sleep, snuggling deeper into your stomach, his fingers dipping beneath your shirt to press against your soft, warm skin; grounding him.

You continued to listen to the music, running your fingers through his hair soothingly as you continued to read your book. You didn't know how long he had been out until you heard his phone go off. Your hand went still on his head, watching as Jaime's eyebrows furrowed and he groaned. 

Blinking, Jaime pushed himself up, falling onto his side on the bed, and pulling out his phone from his pocket. A small, disappointed frown came to his face and you mirrored it. He had to go.

"Hero stuff?" You asked softly, trying not to sound too upset as Jaime let out a sigh, nodding. 

"Yeah, something happened. I need to meet with some of the team." Jaime answered, running a hand through his hair before dropping his phone onto the bed, and letting out a deep sigh, running a hand down his face. 

You hummed sadly, seeing how tired he was. Reaching over, you threaded your fingers through his dark hair once more, smiling wistfully as Jaime shut his eyes for a moment. "You better go then. Even though I really want to keep you here." You muttered, Jaime opening his eyes to meet yours as he raised himself up on an arm. 

"You could keep me here," He suggested, trailing off a bit, "If you want to."

Your cheeks flushed, grinning as you rolled your eyes playfully, "I wish I could but I don't want any angry superheroes at my door just because I made you miss some super important meetup." Your hand left his hair, your fingers trailing down to caress his jawline. "Besides, the world needs you, Blue Beetle."

Jaime nodded before dropping his head, cheeks flushed as his stomach fluttered at the sound of your voice calling him by his hero name. "You're right. I guess I'll go." He finally relented, pushing himself up. Scooting over, Jaime pressed both his hands on the mattress between your head, leaning forward, pressing his lips to yours in a goodbye.

His lips lingered against yours for a moment, pulling back as you both breathed softly against each other. Eyes half-lidded as he pressed one more final kiss to your lips, which you quickly returned. But before Jaime could have any chance to try and stay, you broke the kiss, chuckling softly as you rested a hand on his cheek, bringing his forehead to rest against yours, "Go, be safe."

Jaime chuckled, kissing your forehead, his curls tickling your forehead and the apples of your cheeks as he did so, making you smile brightly, "Always, mi amor." 

Sitting up on your arms, you watched as Jaime stumbled off your bed and looped a leg over your windowsill. Turning to look at you once more, Jaime gave you his signature wide grin, throwing you one last wink before gracefully crashing onto the metal fire-escape. 

You pressed a hand to your mouth to muffle any of your laughter as you watched Jaime sit up, now in his Blue Beetle attire. "I'm alright! I'm fine! I'm good!" He exclaimed, slightly embarrassed, his arms raised to reassure you that he was indeed alright. 

Before you knew it, he flew off in a haze of blue, leaving you alone once again. Sighing, you turned your attention to your room again. Getting up, you shut and locked your window before hopping back into bed. Looking at your book, you opened it, only to pause and let out a small yawn.

Closing your book, you sat it on your bedside table, next to the framed photos of you and Jaime visiting Palmera and of you and Jaime with his sister. That picture always made you laugh. You laid on your side, facing the now shut window as you closed your eyes, and drifted off to sleep with a smile on your face; feeling warmth bloom in your chest.