#ossian singing

[artemlegere]

Ossian Singing His Swan Song

Artist: Nicolai Abildgaard (Danish, 1743-1809)

Date: 1780-1782

Medium: Oil on canvas

Collection: National Gallery of Denmark, Copenhagen, Denmark

Description

The Danish artist Nicolai Abraham Abildgaard, like many of his contemporaries, merged influences of Neoclassicism and Romanticism in his work. He was very fond of both classical and Nordic literary motifs. Ossian played a major part in his work, and his Ossian Singing his Swan Song has almost become the defining image of the blind bard.

The last section of Ossian, entitled Berrathon, presages Ossian's death and tells of what will be his last song:

"Such were my deeds, son of Alpin, when the arm of my youth was strong. Such the actions of Toscar, the car-borne son of Conloch. But Toscar is on his flying cloud. I am alone at Lutha. My voice is like the last sound of the wind, when it forsakes the woods. But Ossian shall not be long alone. He sees the mist that shall receive his ghost. He beholds the mist that shall form his robe, when he appears on his hills. The Sons of feeble men shall behold me, and admire the stature of the chiefs of old. They shall creep to their caves. They shall look to the sky with fear: for my steps shall be in the clouds. Darkness shall roll on my side.

Lead, son of Alpin, lead the aged to his woods. The winds begin to rise. The dark wave of the lake resounds. Bends there not a tree from Mora with its branches bare? It bends, son of Alpin, in the rustling blast. My harp hangs on a blasted branch. The sound of its strings is mournful. Does the wind touch thee, O harp, or is it some passing ghost? It is the hand of Malvina! Bring me the harp, son of Alpin. Another song shall rise. My soul shall depart in the sound. My fathers shall hear it in their airy hail. Their dim faces shall hang, with joy, from their clouds; and their hands receive their son. The aged oak bends over the stream. It sighs with all its moss. The withered fern whistles near, and mixes, as it waves, with Ossian's hair.

'Strike the harp, and raise the song: be near, with all your wings, ye winds. Bear the mournful sound away to Fingal's airy hail. Bear it to Fingal's hall, that he may hear the voice of his son: the voice of him that praised the mighty!'"

[eddy25960]

This sculpture of Achilles wounded, a marble from 1789, by Jean-Baptiste Giraud, 1752/1830 is presented by the Granet Museum, Aix-en-Provence, France between two paintings by Hugues-François-Paul known as Paulin Duqueylard, 1770/1845,

here that of:

Ossian singing the funeral hymn of a young girl, oil on canvas, 1800, 2.73x3.47

[venustapolis]

Ossian Singing His Swan Song (Nicolai Abraham Abildgaard, 1780-2)

[pesoglav]

Nicolai Abildgaard

Ossian Singing

1787

[gaelic-diary-holder-returns]

I was talking to someone the earlier today about things we wished Disney had made before the became such a crappy animation studio and I had several ideas that I would have loved to see a Disney Renaissance era film about.

Ossian and Niamh: Ossian and Niamh would have been the perfect Celtic fairy tale for Disney to have tackled. If you expand it into an epic where the practical fairy princess Niamh and the always dreaming Celtic bard Ossian have to team up to fight a villain maybe like Balor perhaps you would have had a good show. Maybe make Finn a stern somewhat disapproving father and you’ve got a great Disney musical.

Beowulf: Is Disney did Beowulf it would probably basically be a PG rated version of Fire And Ice where the monster Beowulf urged on by his power hungry mother kidnaps a Danish princess and the Swedish hero Beowulf comes to save her. A Disney Beowulf has to include a musical number of Beowulf’s men singing as they row the longship that is a must.

Henry IV: This one I’m less sure about except maybe turning it into a parable about duty and honor while Falstaff isn’t just a lovable rogue but the actual villain who gets a crazy good villain song.

[loosealcina]

JULES MASSENET'S WERTHER AT LA SCALA, JULY 2, 2024

You won’t need a full stream-of-consciousness transcription covering the entire trip. I’m just positive that, few steps into my way home as a genuinely happy camper, I was essentially saying to myself, OK, that was Ibsen. It was everywhere. Also, you know, there was that specific Hedda Gabler something: the towering female lead, the guns… Henrik Ibsen. After I spent several hours in the clutches of Morpheus, those two words—Henrik and Ibsen—weren’t going anywhere, so I decided to check some data, and here’s what I found out: Hedda Gabler—1891; Werther—1892. That’s more than enough for me to glow with serious pride, and be like, hey, maybe I’m not drifting into complete nonsense… I’ll give you a reliable synopsis to begin with. Werther falls in love with Charlotte. It looks like Charlotte might be somewhat interested in Werther, as well; yet she’s already set to marry Albert. (She’s not that free to decide either, given she promised her dying mother she would marry Albert). Somewhere in the void between Act I and Act II, Charlotte does marry Albert. How is Werther going to cope? I’d say Christof Loy’s production of Werther (whose sets/costumes/lights were designed by Johannes Leiacker, Robby Duiveman, and Roland Edrich) was almost exclusively focused on putting in front of the audience a group of perfectly realistic (but I could say: real) humans. It started from the supporting characters (the troop of children [Charlotte has like, seven younger siblings], the regular visitors…) and it went all the way to the protagonists. You could pick anybody, I promise, and I’ll simply launch into a long, detailed disquisition on his/her personality, feelings, fears, dreams… (I believe that’s a symptom of good storytelling).

Another crucial trait of the staging was this: there was a giant core, a center of attraction that dominated everything and everybody. And that center of attraction was Charlotte. In the universe of this Werther, people are solely defined by the way they relate to Charlotte. Veneration appears to be omnipresent. Then, you may have curiosity; envy; emulation; suspicion; lust… Charlotte herself—as portrayed by Victoria Karkacheva through her overly dark, bewitching, regally deadpan voice—was unquestionably the woman in charge. You could describe her as a deft puppeteer, and a bit of an autocrat. But also as a bored/lonely muser. Ultimately, a glacial enigma. (To me, she was definitely reminiscent of Alida Valli in Alfred Hitchcock’s The Paradine Case [1947]). As for Werther, Benjamin Bernheim depicted the most obedient (if awkwardly elegant) slave you’ll ever meet. A peculiar being that might be half Giacomo Leopardi, half the guy who—out of desperate love—butchers himself right between Salome and Jochanaan (and goes completely unnoticed in the process. Why yes—his name was Narraboth). While the Ossianic poem («Pourquoi me réveiller, ô souffle du printemps» [Act III]) shone like a precious one-of-a-kind gem, his measured singing made for a great listening experience throughout. Finally, Alain Altinoglu and the orchestra were the (not so) hidden engine that turned this Werther as a whole into the bewildering exploration of the interior life of a handful of individuals. There was no shortage of musical gifts: shimmering strings, creamy brass (is that a thing?), extended, convoluted/expressionist solos… Still, the truly critical feat was the uninterrupted flow of the narration: bar after bar, tone after tone. It was riveting end to end—even if the action was all but confined to the most secretive part of few tormented souls. Did I mention it made me think of Henrik Ibsen?

[wthtorke]

Chosen

Engineer X Afab Reader - Posted a month ago on my Patreon!  Enjoyy!

After the previous reports on how the species identified as Engineers -, also known as space jockeys, Mala'kaks, or even Ossians-, had a special connection with music, the next messages sent in hopes of establishing contact were filled with various clips of humans singing and dancing; implemented in the hopes of catching their creator’s attention.

Videos from all over the Earth made it to yet another Engineer military ship.

At first, the signal enraged them. Humans; their only successful experiment; the galaxy's child; Rotten, selfish, violent, and primitive.

The Captain's second in command, his Chief Officer, wanted to retaliate as soon as the signal reached their sensors, talking about how their species had been generous in letting them live for so long already. Still, something about the signal made the Captain curious.

Why would they reach out like this? With what intent? What could they want to say?

Gathering his crew, he played the message.

The first few seconds showed a family; it seemed; the grown males and females played different instruments as the children danced to the tune.

The crew and the Captain kept watching, with each Intro over; each other clip had different humans in it, each presenting their style of music, dancing, singing, smiling at whatever or whoever was recording them. “Culture” was the word plastered all over it; they knew what they were doing with the melodic tune they played throughout the video. But that wasn’t all. Clips of architects discussing plans of a building, followed by a timelapse of said building rising from the ground as several humans worked on it through seemly years, all in a couple of seconds. They saw an elderly-looking woman twirling her fingers holding long, fine needles in her hands, turning the simple thread into an intricate design, showcasing it proudly with a smile. Children hand-painted walls and then each other, laughing. None of the kids seemed to be related; none of them looked alike; maybe a school?

They played the videos over and over again for hours, for days. Analysing, focused, critical. They'd eye each other, whispering their thoughts as the video went on, some already had their opinions set in stone, but others had something akin to a smile as their favorite singer or dancer appeared on the screen one more time.

There was no message back. No response.

Until their ship came knocking on the Earth’s doors.

The ship landed close to where the message had originated from, a military base on the outskirts of a city. And hours later, while the Earth’s ‘representatives’ blabbered their welcomes, a massive crowd forming around them, the ship’s occupants had other intentions.The ship’s Captain lifted his hand, and all noise died down, and holograms formed on his palm, showing the frozen images from the clips they sent, a few from the hundreds featured in the video.

Male ballet dancer, Paris. Female Street dancer, Memphis. Female flutist, Venice. Male singer, New York. Female violinist, Coimbra. Female Belly Dancer, Tijuana. Female Kabuki dancer, Tokyo. Male drum player, Kinshasa. Female pottery artist- Sidney.

Confused about what these specific pictures meant, several translators were brought to their location alongside droids, trying to replicate their language. After ten minutes of struggling, and a very irritated Captain, finally, the message got across.

"I want these humans here, now."

The translators told their superiors what they demanded, not sure why they needed those specific people there, but after luring a dormant alien species out of their hiding spot in the galaxy, complying was the only option.

It took two days to get everyone from the list there. There were tents. Thousands of them set up around the ship, where the human military forces had quickly set up a barrier separating the civilians from the ship’s walls, as futile as it all seemed.

“Out of every fucking thing they could want, they want some singers and dancers. It’s so fucking stupid.”

“We set ourselves up for this one. We knew they liked hippies. They -are- the original hippies for crying out loud.”

“Pretty ballet dancers? Okay- a hot belly dancer? Sure. Now what the fuck do they want with a -pottery girl-?”

“Fuck if I know, Jared-” The two men argued as they reached the double doors that led outside again, the blinding light of the scorching sun fading as their eyes adjusted to it. The crowd cheered and booed as they pleased, two sides of each coin, even in this situation. The news feasted on the subject. “Human kidnapping?” “Human selection?” “Human sacrifice?”

At the top of the ship’s ramp stood the Captain and his crew, nine engineers in total, all waiting, stonefaced, and unmoving.

“Everyone here speaks English, right?” Said one of the men to the group of young adults gathered around them, the people they requested two days ago. After some nodding and yessing, he hums. “Great. You are not to say shit until we say so. These aliens are hostile until they show us otherwise. We don’t know why they requested your presence here specifically, though it has a tie to the videos of you we sent. You got instructed on how to act, so I’ll remind you: Stay the fuck still, stay the fuck quiet, and pray to whatever religion you follow that they won’t choose to fuck us up this time. Understood?” He doesn’t give any time for responding as the two men start walking to the gate, the group of people following behind them. The gates open, and they all follow to the base of the ramp, where two droids await.

“These are Adam and Eve, our translators. They have spent a limited time with our visitors and learned more or less a chicken scratch of their language.” The droids nod and turn forward again, facing the ramp.

The crowd’s noise dies away as the Captain takes the first step down the ramp, followed by his crew. Their walk was almost in sync as if they were droids themselves. It’s a long way down, each step building up more and more the tension in the air. They don’t reach the ground, stopping a little from the end of it, still keeping the higher ground.

The Captain speaks, and everyone listens attentively, even if they can’t understand him. His voice is husky, low, and firm. He didn’t leave room for questioning.

The droids nod and turn to their human counterparts. “The Captain informed us that the humans chosen here are to retire to their ship with them for a limited time of-”

“They want us to what-?!”

“Quiet. Proceed, Eve.”

The droid nods, “There are nine of them and nine of you. This would be akin to an exchange program but on the ship. They wish to learn more about us, but on their terms, sir.”

“I see…” The man sighs, rubbing his face as the other one groans, “Would they accept any negotiations on these terms?”

“Negative. Each human will be assigned a partner they are to stay with night and day. Partnerships are non-negotiable." Eve says.

Adam nods, "The Captain already chose the pairs.”

“So, we are to accept these terms?” The other man hissed. “Affirmative.” Said Adam. “The group is to part ways to the ship this instant.”

“But- what about clothes? Food? How are we to communicate with you guys or-, well, with them, at all?” One of the singers asks.

“Arrangements will be made throughout the day after you’ve retired to the ship,” Eve replies. “We are led to believe they don’t trust us with sending you inside with our equipment.”

“Well,” the first man sighs, “We don’t have much to do here.” he turns to the group again, “circumstances have changed, but the instructions haven’t. We have no room to negotiate your stay, but they are our guests as you are now also theirs.” he sighs harder. “Do not fuck up. Answer whatever questions they ask, and do not cause trouble. We’ll try to soften these terms and get to you faster, but until then, do not squirm in their grasp.” His tone is of warning, his eyes narrow and authoritative. He turns back to the droids, “tell the Captain we’re ready.”

The droids communicate their message, and the Captain nods, stepping down further and stopping a step or two before the ground. He opens his mouth, and the whole world seems to freeze again.

The droids nod and turn back to the group. “The Drum Player will be their navigator’s pair,” Eve says. The man nods shakily and steps forward, staring up at the aliens on the ramp. “But- which of them-?”

The Captain utters a word, and one of the engineers steps down the ramp to his side, shorter than the Captain by half a head. The navigator looks at the man and nods so briefly he wouldn’t have caught it if he wasn’t paying attention. “Go.” the man beside him hisses.

He gulps and starts walking past the droids, taking a deep breath at the foot of the ramp before taking his first step up. He walks up to the navigator and nods. The navigator nods to his Captain and begins walking up the ramp again, his human following in tow. They don’t stop near the others, walking up the ramp completely.

“Next up, the Violinist will be paired with their Weapons Specialist.” Says Adam. The girl trembles as she walks up and waits. The Captain calls, and the bulkiest engineer out of the bunch steps down the ramp, staring at her impassively. The girl whimpers, and it takes Adam’s gentle ushering to get her to move up the ramp.

“Who do you think will be paired with the Captain?”Whispers roam around the remaining group as the Captain announces more pairs.“The Flutist and the Kabuki Dancer will be paired with their Pilot and Engineer, respectively.”They step forward as the Captain calls his crew members to get them.

Four down. Five to go.

“The Singer and Street Dancer will be paired with their Biologist and Medic, respectively.”

“Do you think he’ll save himself for last?” asked the Belly Dancer; the Ballet dancer shrugs slightly.“The Belly Dancer will be paired with their Communication Officer.”“Guess that answers your question.” He says as she nods and walks up the ramp to meet her alien.

Leaving only the Captain and the Chief Officer still standing on the ramp.

The Captain utters the last two pairs, and Eve nods.“Last but not least, the Captain’s pair will be the Pottery Artist, leaving the Chief Officer with the Ballet Dancer.”The Ballet Dancer nods and walks up the ramp with his pair.

Leaving you to stare up at the Captain on the ramp.

[scotianostra]

Happy Birthday to the Gaelic Folk sing Julie Fowlis.

Julie Fowlis is a multi-award winning Gaelic singer who is deeply influenced by her early upbringing in the Outer Hebridean island of North Uist. With a career spanning five studio albums and numerous high profile collaborations, her ‘crystalline’ and ‘intoxicating’ vocals have enchanted audiences around the world.

Nominated as ‘Folk Singer of the Year’ at the 2018 BBC Radio 2 Folk Awards, and ‘Best Artist’ at the Songlines World Music Awards, Julie is a warm and engaging live performer who has graced stages around the world, from village halls in the Highlands to stages in New York, The Philharmonie de Paris and Shakespeare’s Globe in London.  Recent invitations to perform have included a return to world-class Festival of Voice in Cardiff, the World Festival of Sacred Music in Fez, Morocco, to collaborate with the BBC Concert Orchestra in the Royal Albert Hall for the Proms and to support Scottish icons ‘Runrig’ to an audience of 50,000 during their farewell concert weekend in August 2018. She sang live at the closing ceremony of the Ryder Cup in Chicago in 2012 to a TV audience of 500 million, an event that was only eclipsed by singing live at the opening ceremony of the Glasgow XX Commonwealth Games in 2014, to a TV audience of over 1 billion people.

Since of the release of her otherworldy album ‘alterum’ in 2017, she has been in demand – touring with the world-class Transatlantic Sessions, sell-out shows in London and throughout the UK, and is currently working on a major new 14-18 commission with celebrated Highland musician Duncan Chisholm, commemorating 100 years since the ‘Iolaire’ tragedy.

She will forever be recognised for singing the theme songs to ‘Brave’, Disney Pixar’s Oscar, Golden Globe and BAFTA winning animated film, set in the ancient highlands of Scotland. The track was recorded when Julie was eight months pregnant with her second child, and has since been a worldwide smash hit, and the song ‘Touch the Sky’ was indeed long listed for an Oscar nomination in 2013.

Julie’s latest album, Alterum was released in 2017, as well as songs by Annie Briggs and Archie Fisher it  featured traditional songs arranged by Fowlis and her production team.

Julie made history as the first Gaelic solo artist to win a Scottish Music Award in December 2014.

In January this year  Julie released an EP  a new three-track  which feature a number of special guests, was recorded to accompany the Source To Sea podcast series in which Lee Craigie and Jenny Graham travel the length of three major Scottish rivers (The River Dee, River Tay and River Clyde).

Julies voice sends shivers up your spine, I have chosen  Smeòrach Chlann Dòmhnaill (‘The Mavis of Clan Donald’).  It’s a scottish gaelic song in which the poet praises Sleat MacDonalds and North Uist. It was composed by John MacCodrum (Iain Mac Fhearchair 1693–1779) one of the earliest of the “village poets”‘, who penned it as an ‘antiquarian’ re-creation of the Celtic bard Ossian in the 1760s

Gaelic lyrics.

Hoilibheag hilibheag hó ail il ó Hoilibheag hilibheag hó ró i Hoilibheag hilibheag hó ail il ó Smeòrach le Clann Dòmhnaill mi I Smeòrach mis’ air ùrlar Phaibil Crùbadh ann an dùsal cadail Gun deòrachd a théid nas fhaide Truimid mo bhròin, thòirleum m’ aigne II Smeòrach mis’ air mullach beinne ‘G amharc gréin is speuran soillear Théid mi stòlda chòir na coille Bidh mi beò air treòtas eile III Ma mholas gach eun a thìr féin Cuim’ thar éis nach moladh mise? Tìr nan curaidh, tìr nan cliar An tìr bhiadhchar fhialaidh mhiosail IV ‘N tìr nach caol ri cois na mara, An tìr ghaolach, chaomhnach, channach, An tìr laoghach, uanach, mheannach: Tìr an arain, bhainneach, mhealach. V An Cladh Chomhghain mise rugadh, ’N Àird an Rùnair fhuair mi togail, Fradharc a’ chuain uaibhrich chuislich, Nan stuagh guanach cluaineach cluiceach. VI Measg Chlann Dòmhnaill fhuair mi m’ altrum Buidheann nan seòl ‘s nan sròl daithte Nan long luath air chuantan farsaing Aiteam nach ciùin rùsgadh ghlas lann VII Na fir eòlach stòlda stàideil Bha ‘s a’ chòmhstri stròiceach scaiteach Fir gun bhròn gun leòn gun airtneul Leanadh tòir, is tòir a chaisgeadh VIII Buidheann mo ghaoil nach caoin caitean Buidheann nach gann greann san aisith Buidheann shanntach ‘n àm bhith aca Rùsgadh lann fo shranntraich bhratach

English translation *

Hoilibheag hilibheag hó ail il ó Hoilibheag hilibheag hó ró i Hoilibheag hilibheag hó ail il ó A mavis (1) of Clan Donald I A mavis I on Paible‘s flatland Huddled in a drowse of sleep unwilling to go any further in the depths of my sorrow my spirit made a mighty leap II A mavis I on a mountaintop Watching the sun and cloudless skies I will approach the forest quietly and I’ll be living on other sustenance III If every other bird praises its own land Why then should not I? Land of heroes, land of poets/The abundant, hospitable, estimable land. IV The land not narrow near the sea, The delectable, mild, comely land, The land of calves and lambs and kids, The land of bread and milk and honey. V ln Comgan’s Churchyard I was born, In Àird an Runnair I was reared, In sight of the proud throbbing sea, Of the sportive, fickle, playful waves. VI Among Clan Donald I was nursed Company of sails and coloured banners Of swift ships on wide oceans A people not mild when baring grey blades (2). VII Men experienced, steady, stately Haughty and keen in battle Men without sorrow, without wounds, without weariness Who would follow in the rout and who could also stop one VIII My beloved company, not smooth of temper A company resolute in war A company ambitious when it was necessary To bare their blades beneath fluttering banners

[shaheenarnitipsyart]

The Chosen One

This is the 24th time joining @flashfictionfridayofficial! Thank you for the challenging prompt!

Word Count: 847

T/W: mention of death

Owain (he/him): older brother

Owynn (he/him): younger brother

The Chosen One. 

Owynn hated this title. He was green with envy whenever he heard this word whispered among people because it reminded him that he was inferior to his elder brother Owain. 

They shared similar appearances - both of them had wavy bronze hair, blue-grey eyes, and thick eyebrows. That made Owynn even worse. 

I could have been the chosen one. Why Owain? 

His glabellar lines had deepened ever since Owain was declared the Chosen One, who was allowed to wield the sacred sword passed on from their heroic ancestor. King Ossian was a legendary defender of the kingdom, and his sword had been preserved in the secret temple in the deep forest. It was a great honour to receive the title of Defender.

Owain had always been the favourite child. He had great skill with riding and sword-fighting. He had a distinctive, infectious laugh that brightened up people's hearts, and his clear, confident voice could encourage his fellow warriors on battlefields. And Owynn hated that. Owynn had been a mere shadow while Owain had been light. To Owynn's eyes, Owain's path was broad, smooth, and easy. 

Still, Owynn had some good memories of horse rides and secret journeys he made with Owain in his childhood. Owynn would sing random songs into the wind as they rode. Owain would grin at his partner-in-crime. When they were found by their family, they would tolerate the beatings together. Owain had never ignored nor abandoned Owynn. But even those memories irritated Owynn. He wished Owain would hate him as much as he did. Owynn bitterly remembered the day his brother proclaimed his new title. The ancient sword with an intricate swirling pattern shining under the blue sky. The cheers from people turned into a roar.  Owain's face was bright as ever as if the relentless blessing showering over him purified his soul. And that was the moment Owynn decided to leave his clan, never to return. 

Look how easily Owain handles the sacred sword. We do look alike, but the gods favoured him from the very beginning. Of course, he is an incredibly virtuous person, unlike me. But I won't live under his mercy - he will look at me with eyes of pity and say that we are equal, that we should defend those wretched people and the wasteful land together. Who cares? 

Little did he know, Owain was looking at his younger brother's quiet departure beyond the excited crowd, eyes full of pain. 

Now, Owynn is riding through the hills like a gale. Beyond the rolling hill, there lies the old forest, where he left a decade ago. 

The news of the defeat of his clan - and the death of Owain reached him a couple of days ago. That's why Owynn is heading to the forest despite cold rain. The hills unfolded in front of him look like a bottomless grey ocean. 

I don't care about my brother. Now I can prove that I'm better than him!��The rumour says that the oracles haven't received any prophecy regarding the next Defender. Then, why not me? 

Owynn tells himself, ignoring a sharp pain in his heart. 

It is weird. 

Ever since he heard the news, he has been haunted by the flashback of his childhood - random songs and funny poems they composed together. How Owain threw his head back and laughed. His strong yet gentle hands treated Owynn's wounds. And sad eyes whenever Owynn glared at him with hatred and jealousy. 

No matter how hard Owynn tries to get rid of those, they come back to him. At last, he arrives in the forests and walks straight into the temple where the sword is kept. The guards flinch at the sight of him, but let him in without a word. 

That's a bit surprising. 

One oracle is sitting in front of the sword. Their tired eyes and Owynn's meet. Owynn can feel silence overpowering him. There is no cheer, no blessing. Before he opens his mouth, the oracle offers the sword politely. 

Finally!

Owynn's trembling hands touch the curved hilt of the sword.

What...!?

He has never thought that the sword could be this cold and heavy. The intense coldness of the sword sends a chill to the bone. Suddenly, he realises that he is alone - really alone. The weight of being the Defender is so real, and for the first time, he becomes aware of the loneliness and responsibility his older brother had to tolerate all by himself. Looking at the shocked face of Owynn, the oracle opens their mouth.

'This is the message from Owain to you, uttered just before his passing.' 

Speechless, Owynn looks at the oracle. 

'This sword carries the spirits of the previous Defenders. Whenever you charge into battles, my spirit will wield this sword with you. Afraid not, my dear brother, you won't be alone again - ever again.' 

Owynn can't help stop the tremble of his hands. 

For the first time, the burning jealousy that has consumed his heart is slowly extinguishing. 

@flashfictionfridayofficial​

[clarky1970]

Ossian Singing, Nicolai Abildgaard, 1787

[napoleondidthat]

The Canoness

Napoleon Buonaparte, now a general and in command of artillery in the army of Italy, spent the year 1794 and the beginning of 1795 on the Cote d'Azur and the Riviera. On the fall of Robespierre he was compromised, but quite shortly regained the saddle. Then, after a lull of several months, he received orders to join the army of the West (May, 1795). Along with an aide-de-camp (Junot), an officer (Marmont) and his brother Louis (ex-Luigi), he set out of Paris.

At Chatillon-sur-Seine he stayed a few days with Marmont, who introduced him into local society. Among the neighbours was Victorine de Chastenay, a canoness an a witty girl. Here is her account of him.

General Bonaparte was accompanied by his brother Louis, then aged sixteen, whom he was educating himself. This young man seemed good-natured, and in no way remarkable. I can only remember that his brother having set him to calculate the logarithm of 44, he was not allowed to come with us to the forge of Sainte-Colombe till Mamma begged him off, for he had not done his task, an the stern mentor would not excuse him.

Everyone has seen Bonaparte. He was then thin and pale, and his appearance was all the more distinctive. Mme de Marmont brought him to call on us the very day after his arrival. The good lady could not think what to do with her guest, whose complete and uniform taciturnity was driving her to despair.

During his first visit, to pass the time, I was asked to play the piano. The general seemed pleased, but his compliments were brief. I was called on to sing. I chose an Italian song which I had just set to music. I asked him if my pronunciation was good. He simply said no.

I had been struck by his countenance. Next day we dined at the Chatelot, in the general's honour. Our usual hour in those days was about two o'clock. We sat long at table, and afterwards, eager to converse with the general, whose monosyllables had impressed me differently from the rest of the company, I went up to him. I asked a question a question about Corsica, and our conversation began. I think it lasted more than four hours.

We were both standing, leaning on a marble console between the two windows of the drawing-room. Parties were made up, people came and went, an it was not till Mamma gave the signal for departure that our talk came to an end. I regret not having written it down. Now I can recall only fragments. It had keenly interested and amused me.

I was not long in perceiving that the republican general had no republican principles or beliefs. This took me aback, but he was completely frank on the subject.

I believe (and Bonaparte cared very little for the suspicion)--I believe that he would have emigrated, if that course had really offered any chance of success. Toulon might have had him as its defender, if business interest had not made its defeat an element in his plans. This young soldier had then his fortune to make. He was still an adventurer, and was never to take an unsuccessful step.

Bonaparte spoke of Ossian's poems, for which he was an enthusiast. I have always remembered that the novel also had its place in our talk. Bonaparte said that the tragic end of Paul and Virginia was the main cause of the interest their story excited.

We talked of happiness. He said that for a man it must lie in the greatest possible development of his faculties. At the time I did not know Condillac had said this, an I thought it dazzling.

We met every day, at the Chatelot or in my own home. I can still see him helping me  to make a bouquet of cornflowers. At that time I had been translating a little Italian poem on the fan, and I mentioned it to him. He said he had made a detailed study of the character of the fan. He saw in its fluctuations all those that swayed women themselves, an he had verified and confirmed his findings at the Theatre-Francais, watching the acting of Mlle Contat.

At the Chatelot we played parlour games, and in claiming a forfeit, I saw that man on his knees to me who was soon to see Europe at his. We danced rounds. Our compatriot Junot, then the general's aide-de-camp, later a general himself and Duke of Abrantes, bellowed the well-known round Mon berger n'est-il pas drole? and the glee was boisterous.

Napoleon in His Time, Jean Savant, pgs 22-23

[fairyringquilt]

Ossian Singing - Nicolai Albidgaard (1787)

[jj-lynn21]

Snow in Hollywood Chapter 4

@tephi101​ @sweet-teekorbs​ One more chapter after this. Warnings: Teasing, Wicked Queen, poison, crying. If you know Snow White you always knew where this was going. 

Chapter 4

You get to sleep in which makes you wake up in a great mood. You put your hair in a ponytail, though on jean shorts and a yellow and red stripped tank top, and just a little foundation.  You know later you will be getting your make-up done by a professional so no need to overdo. Everyone is sitting at the breakfast table when you come out. You sit down.

You say, “Good morning everyone.”

In unison they say, “Good morning princess.”

You grab some dry toast to eat. You don’t want your dress to be uncomfortable and that pasta last night was filling. You don’t plan to eat much before you go to pick up your dress.

Your say, “so what’s everyone up to today?”

Sam says, “I’m off to the hospital to make rounds after breakfast.”

Gustaf say, “I have to be on set soon. I hope I make it on time. I probably will.”

Laughing Alex says, “I got rugrat duty today.”

Ossian says, “I get to play jungle gym on Alex.”

Kolbjorn is passed out with cheerios stuck to him. This seems to be his morning routine. Valter shrugs.You look to Bill.

Bill says, “I have an audition in two hours. I’ll be leaving after breakfast. But I’ll be back in plenty of time for us to go to the Shoppe to get ready for the Ball Princess.”

You say, “Good luck. What’s the audition for if you are allowed to say anything?”

Bill says, “It’s a romantic lead in comedy. Its really different for me but I’d like to try it. “

You say, “I think you would make a great romantic lead.”

A few of the guys almost choke on their breakfast holding back laughter.

Bill says, “Thank you Princess.”

When he gets up, he kisses your cheek before going to get ready for his audition. You blush a little as his brothers stare. Sam and Gustaf get up to go get ready for work next. You start clearing the dishes. Alex gets the kids cleaned up as you finish clearing the table and start dishes. The kids play in the living room while Alex helps you with the dishes as he hums the clean up song. You laugh and hum along to the tune. He starts singing in Swedish and you try your best to sing along. You and Alex play with the little ones the rest of the morning into the afternoon. You laugh so hard when he lets them use him as a jungle gym. Valter stays in his room playing video games mostly, His girlfriend come over to join him and leaves after about two hours.

Regina sits tapping her fingernails on the table as your father reads a mechanics magazine. She is bored and wants him to find her some entertainment or take her out, but he is content being at home in his comfortable chair.

Regina says, “Can’t you do anything to entertain me today? I’m going to die of boredom.”

He says, “I never heard of anyone really dying of boredom. Why don’t you turn on the television? Maybe we can find something to watch together and snuggle.”

She rolls her eyes but flips on the television. Flipping through channels she stops at an entertainment gossip program. Along with a picture of Bill kissing your hand as he helps you out of the car the reporter explains what he saw.

The reporter says, “It seems Bill Skarsguard is dating a porcelain skinned beauty with dark black hair and ruby lips. They were probably heading in to get fitted in their attire for the Ball tonight at The Club.”

There are Flames in Regina’s eyes. The huntsman didn’t really do the job he was paid for. That is why he decided not to take her money and there was something a little different in those blue eyes he brought her back. She packed a bag and came downstairs.

Regina said, “I have to check on someone. I’ll be back in a day or two.”

He said, “Anyone I know?”

As she left, she said, “No one you remember.”

Bill gets home from his Audition. Kolbjorn is asleep on your lap and Ossian is playing cars on the floor with Alex as Dead Pool 2 plays on the television.

Bill says, “I have a limo picking us up in ten minutes Princess. I hope that’s ok?”

Smiling you say, “That’s fine Bill.”

Bill says, “So they made you watch this movie I was in like two minutes?

Ossian says, “I prayed really hard you didn’t die this time, but that truck just ate you all up like a big monster.”

Chuckling Bill says, “Maybe next time big guy.”

You say, “I’ve seen it.”

Bill says, “Oh, you have?”

You say, “Its not like I lived under a rock before I got here. I was aware of the work of you, Alex, Gustaf and Valter.”

Bill says, “You just don’t act like the type of girls that know our work.”

You get up to carry Kolbjorn to his bed, so you can freshen up before leaving.

You say, “You should know by now I’m nothing like the type of girls you have ever known.”

Alex chuckles. Bill stands there mystified for a moment. He freshens up after you.

Bill says, “Put a light hoodie on. Its been on the entertainment news I have a new girl so the paparazzi will be crazy. I don’t want your stepmother seeing you on TV. My Dad would kill me.”

You go grab a hoodie. Then the two of you head out to get in the limo. You are hoping for some alone time but that’s not on the agenda. A reporter is waiting in the limo to chat with Bill about up coming movies.  He tries to ask Bill about you, but Bill reminds him that he likes to keep his personal life personal so if he ever wants another interview, he will let it go. You sit back quietly and listen. When you get to The Shoppe, the driver opens the door. Bill gets out first and the flashes from cameras start to go off. You put your hoodie up as he helps you out of the limo. Several other big guy swarm around the two of you to shield you from photographers. You finally make it inside where everyone is happy to see you.

You are separated from Bill, but you completely trust these people. The windows are made so you can see the paparazzi waiting outside for you and Bill, but they can’t see you. The make-up artist takes you first.

He says, “Would you like anything to drink. After we do your lips, they need to set for five minutes before you drink anything so I would recommend you drink now.”

You say, “I will take a fuji water, please.”

He snaps his fingers and you have what you asked for in seconds. He does your make-up a little heavier than before for an evening look. Your eyes are smokey. Your lips are painted redder. Your cheeks are perfectly rosy. Then you are taken over to get your hair done. After taking it down and playing with it for a minute or two the hairdresser uses a curling iron to add ringlets around your face and layers of bigger curls throughout the rest of your hair.

Your Fairy Godmother comes to get you. He is elated by the way you look already.

Your Fairy Godmother says, “You are a beautiful Princess, but after tonight you are going to be on your way to Queen status.”

You just smile as he leading you to the dressing area. His assistants help you put on your dress and shoes.

Your fairy Godmother says, “Show us a little spin Princess.” You spin for the room of people. They clap. He says, “Oh, you are fabulous. I have some ruby earrings and a necklace for you also and of course that mask. It’s the most important thing for the Masquerade Ball.”

His assistants put the jewelry and mask on you. He has you get back up on the small stage and do another little spin. When your eyes focus after spinning you see Bill standing not so far away in a scrumptious dark blue suit with a red mask that you’re not sure if it’s scary or superhot. He licks his lips as he walks over to you.

Whispering the Fairy Godmother says, “I wouldn’t blame you if you just attacked that man in the limo.” You blush as Bill takes your hand.  The Fairy Godmother says, “How did I do on this last-minute magic Billy?”

Bill says, “You did awesome. I knew you would come through for me.”

The two of you walk out to the limo. You don’t need to hide from all the paparazzi since you have a mask on now. Still large guys surround the both of you until you get in the limo. You take a breath. Of course, another reporter is in the limo to talk to Bill. He let’s her take a picture of you both since you are both masked. You Get to the event. Bill helps you out of the limo. There are nonstop pictures being taken. You stand to the side for a moment before he grabs your hand and pulls you to him for some couple pictures. They are screaming questions.

Whispering in your ear Bill says, “We don’t have to say anything. Just let them take their pictures.”

You nod and smile. It is a lot more nerve raking than you ever expected. Finally, the two of you get inside. You are thankful Its quieter. A waiter with champagne walks over to you and Bill. You both take a flute to sip. Bill keeps holding your hand as he chats with several people. You talk to wives, girlfriends, boyfriends and possible some people for hire. Mostly everyone is very fascinating or at least pretends to be.

Some slow dance music starts. Serval people start dancing so Bill spins you on to the floor. Your dress twirls perfectly. A few people just watch the dancing. It might be your imagination, but their eyes seem to be on you and Bill. He pulls you close. His hands rest just above your ass. One of your hands rest on his chest as the other strokes the back of his neck softly. You look in each other’s eyes.

Bill says, “Just look at me. You are doing just fine.”

You see some flashing lights as pictures are taken. He rubs your back. You are practically on fire for him. You feel he feels the same. When the photos stop, Bill pulls you off the floor. The two of you are practically running to find a dark corner. He holds you against a wall with his body as you feel his hands sliding up your legs. He kisses your neck and you let out a soft moan.

Whispering in your ear he says, “I want you so bad Princess. Can I be your Prince?”

Breathless you say, “Yes.”

His fingers are looped in your panties sliding them down. You undo his belt.

Some people can be heard coming around the corner. He slides your panties back on. They come around the corner. His palm of his hand is on the wall pushing his body away from you and you are both breathing heavily.

One of the guys in the group says, “Hey, Bill.”

He nods to the guy. They pass. He looks at you as he does his belt back up.

Bill says, “I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait for us to be together any long. No more reporters in the limo when we leave. I can have the driver drive around a few hours.”

You say, “Yeah that sounds good.”

Bill says, “Take deep breath. I just have to say goodbye to few people, and we will get the privacy we deserve.”

You nod in agreement. All you think about is finally kissing him as the two of you make your way out to the crowd again. He is saying goodbye. You smile and do what you believe is expected of you trying to keep your cool. Everyone has masks on of course even those delivering drinks. One lady in a very ugly hags mask bring you a cocktail.

She says, “Have this apple martini Princess. You will really enjoy it I promise. Doesn’t it look delicious.”

You say, “Thank you.”

You drink the cocktail. Bill catches you as you start to fall to the floor. People scream. Regina takes off her hags mask as she exits through the kitchen with a satisfied look on her face.

Screaming someone says, “She’s dead!”

Bill checks your pulse. Its weak but he can still feel it. He picks you up.

Screaming Bill says, “She’s not dead. Just open the door and cover us from the cameras. My brother is a Doctor. He will be able to help her.”

As a show a true solidarity most of the people there make a circle around Bill as he carries you out. The limo driver has the door open. He gets in quickly and starts driving.

The driver says, “Are we going to the hospital Sir.?”

Bill says, “No, just take us home.”

The Driver says, “As you wish.”

Bill calls Sam to meet the two of you at the house.

Bill says, “I have no idea what happened Sam. We were on our way out and she just passed out. Yes, she had a drink in her hand but we only had two drinks, maybe three for her.”

He hangs up as the limo pulls up to the house. Sam was on the phone with Alex when Alex rushed out and opened the door before the driver could. Bill was already crying not knowing what happened to you and blaming himself for not paying more attention to your surroundings. Alex pulled you out of the car and carried you into the house. Bill got out and followed him. His head was down, and tears were still streaming. Sam pulled in as the limo was pulling out. He ran inside.

He said, “where is she?”

Sitting with the young boys on the couch Gustaf points down the Hall. Alex had put you in Bill’s bed since it was larger than the guest bed and Bill insisted. Sam goes over with his medical bag. He checks your pulse first. He then gets out his stethoscope to check your heart rate and pulse points. Bill and Alex stand a few steps behind Sam watching. Bill’s eyes are red and blood shot.  Alex has his hand on Bills shoulder trying to comfort him.

Sam says, “I’ll get some blood work to see if I can find anything. She seems to just be sleeping deeply. If she doesn’t wake up when I get back in the morning, I’ll start an IV.”

When Sam finishes his assessment, Bill pulls a chair over to sit at your bedside. He starts to cry again as he takes your hand and kisses it softly. Sam closes the door when he leaves with Alex. They head into the livingroom.

Ossian says, “Is the Princess ok? Why is bigger brother crying?”

Sam says, “She’s just sleeping Ossian. Bill is tired to. They had a big date night, so they are both really sleepy. Don’t you cry when you are sleepy sometimes?”

Ossian, “When I was littler I did.”

Sam says, “Well, Kolbjorn is already asleep so I think its your bedtime also. Gustaf always lets you stay up late.”

Ossian says, “Cause he is awesome.”

Gustaf Carries Kolbjorn to bed. Alex tosses Ossian over his shoulder to take him to bed. Ossian laugh. Its late so Ossian falls asleep while Alex is telling him a bedtime story. Valtar comes in from a date night. He sees Sam looking at the vile of blood.

Valter says, “What’s going on? Whose blood is that?”

Sam says, “Take a seat. I think we all need to talk about this.”

He sits down. Gustaf and Alex come out and sit down.

Gustaf says, “Dad is going to kill us.”

Valter says, “For what? I haven’t even been here for hours. Where’s Bill and Snow?”

Sam says, “We don’t know what is going on yet. All I know is she is sleeping deeply. By tomorrow she could just wake up and everything will be fine, but I can’t be sure of that. Bill is sitting with her Valter. She passed out while they were at the Ball, so he is devastated.”

Gustaf says, “We will call Dad when you get the blood work back if she doesn’t wake. Are we in agreement? I mean it Valter. No calling Dad.”

They all say, “We agree.”

[dawdl-ing]

Edwidge Ólafdottir: An Arcana Apprentice ✨

(UPDATED!)

(template by @lavellanpls)

*added by me

A kind apprentice devoted to the night sky and seeking a forgotten past.

🔮 THE BASICS

Name: Eydís Kyra Ólafdottir

AKA: Edwidge, Ed

Magic specialty: musical and sound related spells. her voice and her mouth harp are her two magical weapons of choice. (if they don’t work, she uses the magical equivalent of a morning star 🌟)

🐍 THE DETAILS

Zodiac sign: Leo

MBTI: ENFJ

Animal: a vicious rabbit named Sweet Pea

Romance: the slippery doctor

Personality: bubbly, sweet, intuitive, excitable, kind, compassionate, quirky, & anxious

✋🏼 THE PHYSICAL

Gender: cis female

Eye color: blue/grey

Hair color: medium golden blonde, died auburn

*Unique Attribute: burn scars on her palms and up her forearms from handling stardust. In her culture, the scars are revered with honor, for the purposes are great and worthy to the Grey Mother.

Style: Ed’s clothes are of the whimsical sort, and on the verge of eye sores. She mostly wears a colorful variety of shawls, vests, ribbons, and jewelry. She can also braid like a madwoman. (Ed, being a theatrical gal, is more than willing to play the part of “magician”.) I based her wardrobe loosely on Stevie Nicks and traditional Viking wear. When dressing, she’ll usually opt for whatever she feels like that day, and doesn’t have a “set” outfit.

🌿 THE FAVORITES

Favorite food: mashed potatoes & peaches (separately, not together 😂)

Favorite drink: hot cider

Favorite flower: poppy

Favorite color: the hues of the sky during sunset/sunrise

*Favorite time of day: the time of the night where it’s almost morning. The time where you feel that everything is truly asleep.

📜Q&A

What is her major arcana?

The Moon

Where is she from?

The village of Oss -her people often called the “Starcatchers”- based in a small country based off of the culture of Iceland. Her people are nocturnal, and worship the stars and the moon.

They were originally a war tribe, but went into hiding underground after a particularly brutal battle. For many generations they were underground, but soon ventured back up to the surface and made a home there.

Here is a playlist of music of what I imagine Ossian music is like.

How did she come to live in Vesuvia?

Every Ossian (some more than others) are gifted in the art of music, and the majority of their magic is only used through music. Those that are blessed have magical capabilities AND musical abilities, and are destined for preisthood. So, the only magic users in the village are involved in religious practice and nothing else. Ed’s mother, an outsider, believes that her daughter was meant to be more than just a priestess, and encourages Ed to venture out into the world before she commits herself. Ed agrees, and chooses to take an apprenticship under her aunt, who lives in the cosmopolitan city of Vesuvia!

What does she like to do in her free time?

drawing, acting, singing, reading, walks, spending time with friends

Does she have any fears?

Fear of being alone, spiders, and loud noises.

[gffa]

Guess who’s crying because STAR WARS is full of feelings again? ALL OF US, THAT’S WHO. This is another collection designed to have at least a little something for almost everyone, whether you’re here for a ship or a certain era of the Saga or the greater SW tapestry, whether you want to cry about Anakin Skywalker or want to keep crying about the Rebels, whether you’re here for Leia Organa feelings or just want to roll around in a time travel that will hopefully eventually fix everything, there should hopefully be at least one fic that appeals! Star Wars fandom is so good at providing things to read (so much so that I still have at least a dozen novel-length fics on my reader that I haven’t even been able to start yet!) and so many of them are so, so worth your time to read. Bless all the authors making it even better to be a fan of this ridiculous series about space wizards and aliens and smugglers and good kids doing their best against an evil regime that wants to crush everyone! STAR WARS FIC RECS: TIME TRAVEL RECS: ✦ Drifting Starlight by Pandora151, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & qui-gon & cast, time travel, 60.3k    Just before the fateful Battle of Naboo, Qui-Gon Jinn is brought to the future, to the Clone Wars. He doesn’t know why or how, but he knows one thing for sure: He never, in a million years, expected the galaxy to end up like this. ✦ The Dark Path Lit by Sun and Stars by A_Delicate_Fury, obi-wan & luke & leia & han & cast, time travel, 33.8k wip    After a disaster on the cosmic scale that Obi-Wan is still trying to wrap his mind around, he finds himself back in the early days of the Clone Wars, Commander Cody loyally at his side, Anakin at his back, and Sidious plotting against the Jedi at every turn. ✦ Death, Yet The Force (so rise and shine) by EclipseMidnight (EternalEclipse), obi-wan & mace & tahl & cin drallig & qui-gon & depa & cast, time travel, 14.9k    In which the most eclectic group of time travelers wake up in 949 ARR (51 BBY) and attempt to unravel what the Force wants them to do and begin to take the necessary steps to ensure the survival of the Jedi in the future ✦ In Time by Ripki, obi-wan & anakin, time travel, 23.6k wip    When a mysterious holocron sends [Obi-Wan and Anakin] through time, they don’t only have to confront their past and future – but the present as well. ✦ Worldwalker by rainglazed, ezra & kanan & cast, time travel, 25.5k wip    Time travel AU where Ezra Bridger meets Caleb Dume the day after Order 66. ✦ twin suns by tripletmoons, obi-wan & cast, time travel, 1.5k    Obi-Wan Kenobi is six years old when he meets Ben. It goes like this: he falls asleep in the Temple and wakes up in the sand. PREQUELS RECS: ✦ So, How Was My Funeral? by Ibelin, obi-wan & anakin & yoda & mace, 5k    “Obi-Wan, I need you to know two things. First, I love you so much.” Anakin looked his master in the eye, demanding full acknowledgment. “And second, I am going to kill you.” ✦ Though Lovers Be Lost by panharmonium, obi-wan & cast, 4.5k    When they tell stories about his life, will they speak of loss or love? You cannot have one without the other, after all. ✦ Catechin by ambiguously, mace & depa, 2.1k    Three times Mace Windu and Depa Billaba took tea together. ✦ untitled by swhurtcomfort, obi-wan & anakin, 1.7k    Anonymous asked: Hey, can I request an Obi-Wan with a bad fever getting taken care of by Anakin who is too stubborn to admit hes also sick? ✦ Old Sins Cast Long Shadows by zarabithia, ahsoka & obi-wan & anakin & padme (& building background obi-wan/padme), 12.8k wip    In this universe, when Palpatine asks if Anakin is going to kill him, Anakin does. While Anakin ultimately wins, it costs him his life. In this universe, the twins are raised by Ahsoka, Padmé, and Obi-Wan. ✦ We Will Abide by naberiie, plo & shaak, 10.3k    Light. Dark. Balance. Beneath the Jedi Temple, far below the chaos of Coruscant’s Galactic City, ancient halls and corridors sleep in silent darkness. Padawans Shaak Ti and Plo Koon are determined to explore them. ✦ memories like ashes at our feet by ambiguously, anakin & ahsoka, 4.2k    Darth Vader was gravely injured in the explosion of the Sith Temple. Now Anakin Skywalker has no memory of what he’s doing here with Ahsoka. ✦ valley of the shadow by darlingargents, obi-wan & luminara (& barriss), 1.6k    In which Luminara finds out. ✦ Queen of Peace by Sassaphrass, obi-wan & padme & cast (background anakin/padme), 20.2k    Padmé Amidala lives. Democracy is dead, The Jedi are Dead, and her beloved husband Anakin Skywalker is dead. But, Padmé is still alive. Her children are still alive. And maybe, just maybe, there is still hope. So, she’ll just have to keep going, and pray that someday all these terrible sacrifices will have been worth it. ✦ The Mathematics of Repair by panharmonium, obi-wan & anakin, 4.6k    For raw teachers and rough-edged students building in the rubble: tiny steps are enough, provided they carry you in the right direction. Immediately post TPM, in short snippets. ✦ Scavenged Parts of Broken Hearts by crowleyshouseplant, mace & paxi, 3.1k    Paxi Sylo meets Mace Windu a second time. ✦ On the Third Day by victoria_p (musesfool), anakin & bail & breha & leia, 3.4k    Vader’s patience has run out. ✦ Nothing by Pandora151, obi-wan & anakin & dooku, ~1k    A single split-second decision changes everything. ✦ A Ghost’s Embrace by AceQueenKing, shmi & padme & leia, 1.4k    Shmi Skywalker watches over her granddaughter, but she isn’t alone. ✦ Space Twins by glorious_clio, obi-wan & luke & leia & bail, 1.1k    Obi-Wan is tasked with bringing Luke to Tatooine. For his part, Bail brings Leia home to Breha. ✦ Eternal Darkness by Darth_Vodka, jedi & cast (& jocasta), 5k    When the newly anointed Darth Vader leads the 501st Legion to the Jedi Temple to execute Order 66, a last ditch effort to preserve the Jedi Order has unintended consequences. ✦ these little things called pyrrhic victories by RestlessWanderings, obi-wan & anakin, 3.6k    Or, the one where Obi-Wan follows Yoda’s orders and kills Anakin, which changes some things but leaves others the same. ✦ Tag by Imadra Blue, obi-wan & yoda, ~1k    A three-year-old Obi-Wan follows Master Yoda around the Temple. ✦ See No Evil by GirlwithCurls98, ahsoka & anakin & yoda & cast, 9.7k wip    When Ahsoka suffers a head injury, she loses something she thought would always be there. With the help of her friends, she learns how to adapt to her new reality, and how she can use it to her advantage, all while searching for a cure. ✦ A First Time for Everything by Ossian, obi-wan & anakin, 1.1k    Post-TPM, Obi-Wan and Anakin find a connection ✦ Time to Go by JediShampoo, obi-wan/padme & cast, 4.9k    Obi-Wan is leaving Alderaan and taking Luke with him. He and Padme must say their goodbyes. Stuff happens. ✦ An Interlude (The Passing of Some Days) by victoria_p (musesfool), obi-wan & leia & bail/breha, 1k    Bail makes some calls. ✦ buy a dog by panharmonium, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon, 2.4k    You ask of my companions. Hills, sir, and the sundown, and a dog as large as myself that my father bought me. They are better than human beings, because they know but do not tell. -Dickinson OBI-WAN/ANAKIN RECS: ✦ Titles, Traditions, and Other Forms of Attachment by MarchofBirds, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, 25.5k    Or: How Anakin’s relationship to the term “Master” changes throughout different stages of his life. ✦ Both Deserve Happiness by zarabithia, obi-wan/anakin, 1.3k    The Republic falls, but Anakin doesn’t. Together, Obi-Wan and Anakin lead the hunt to find Palpatine. Eventually, they have to face the fact that their relationship has changed. ✦ Tumblr Prompt Drabbles by Adelphrexia, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 1.5k wip (sort of)    A collection of Obikin drabble requests originally posted on my Tumblr. Mostly smut, any warnings will be posted on the chapter they apply to. ✦ Lucky me by orphan_account, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, hooker au, 1.9k    Anakin might never have been found by the Jedi, Obi-Wan and he still are lucky enough to meet each other. ✦ Cuddle by Captain Starseeker, obi-wan/anakin, 1k    When having a rough, over worked day, it’s nice to just sit down and cuddle with your loved one. ObiAni fluff ✦ Yes, Master by Little Green Voice, obi-wan/anakin, 12.1k    It wasn’t only the words. It was the way they were said. And, if he was completely honest, it was also a little the words. Not so much about the ‘yes’ though, as it was about the “Master”. ✦ Pursuit by Icse, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, modern au, 16.3k wip    Ben Kenobi wasn’t interested in taking on a working student, […] still, he can recognize talent when he sees it and agrees to take on Anakin as his working student. He certainly didn’t plan on falling for him. ✦ Tagalongs by zarabithia, obi-wan/anakin & luke & leia, modern au, 3.4k    Leia has cookies to sell, and her father is along for the ride. Had he known that someone as handsome as Obi-Wan Kenobi was going to purchase some, Anakin might have taken more than five minutes to get dressed. ✦ Naughty Padawans by salixbabylon, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, spanking, 1.4k    Obi-Wan, completely fed up with his padawan, tries something definitely *not* in the Master’s Handbook. ✦ Secret Fire by ambiguously, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, 2.7k    Masters, especially human masters, would sometimes take their young students aside and offer them this experience. It was perfectly normal. ORIGINAL TRILOGY RECS: ✦ As Old As Rhyme by ambiguously, padme & luke, ~1k    Every night, someone sits next to Luke on his bed and sings a lullabye in a low voice in a language he doesn’t know. ✦ The Belonging You Seek by WiliQueen, luke & leia & ahsoka & cast, 30.9k wip    A chance discovery gives Luke and Leia a glimpse into who Anakin was, and leads them to more than they ever expected. More questions, more answers… and more family. ✦ Hear Me by crowleyshouseplant, anakin & leia & luke & cast, 3.2k    Leia struggles to reconcile Luke’s experience with his father and hers with Darth Vader. ✦ Spar by glorious_clio, liea & luke & wedge & han, 3.2k    Luke is desperate to learn the ways of the Force. Leia can’t really help him there, but she knows how to wield a blade. REBELS RECS: ✦ Is It Gremlins? by ncfan, sabine & kallus, 8.3k    This was not how Sabine expected to spend her afternoon. ✦ pas de deux by glorious_clio, kanan/hera, 1.9k    After spending all day in the cockpit, and with one more chore to complete, Hera Syndulla feels the urge to move. But even a simple moment can come with a hangup or two. Luckily, she has a supportive partner. ✦ Celestial Navigation by ambiguously, zeb/kallus, 1.7k    Kallus doesn’t understand why Zeb’s not sad. ✦ Bank of Coals by Eclectic_Goddess, kanan/hera & ezra, 1.4k    “You should get some rest.” “I’m fine.” “That would be more convincing if you could keep your eyes open when you said it.” ✦ The Joy of Nescience by ambiguously, kanan & depa & ahsoka/rex, 2.1k    Three times Kanan Jarrus did not want to know. ✦ Symbios by bam_cassiopeia, ahsoka & sabine & aphra, 4.1k    Sabine and Ahsoka go on a quest for a boy and his purrgils. ✦ An Unexpected Encounter by codenametargeter, kanan/hera & hondo & katooni, 2k    It’d been enough of a surprise when Ahsoka Tano had turned out to be alive. Kanan definitely wasn’t expecting to find another member of the Jedi Order so soon and definitely not amongst Hondo Ohnaka’s pirate gang. SOLO RECS: ✦ Feelings Are a Luxury and This is War by igrockspock, han/qi'ra, 1.3k    Feelings are a luxury Qi'Ra can’t afford. ✦ tell me, get my shit together by paperclipbitch, han/lando & chewbacca & cast, solo spoilers, 5.3k    “I thought we were actively avoiding each other after the Trandosha Shitshow,” Han says. “We’re actively avoiding each other after the Iridonia Shitshow,” Lando corrects him, “the Trandosha Shitshow is That Which We Do Not Speak Of.” ✦ Falcon Heart by crowleyshouseplant, lando & l3, solo spoilers, 3k    Lando is reunited with an old friend. SEQUELS RECS: ✦ Relax and Fly Casual by igrockspock, han & ben & cast, 4.1k    A father-son smuggling trip is not the kind of quality time Ben had in mind. ✦ each offering of tenderness by victoria_p (musesfool), rey & leia & finn & poe & chewbacca & rose & r2-d2, 3.1k    “I can fix it,” Rey insists. “I can fix anything.” ✦ Waste Management by shadydave, leia & rey & finn & poe & rose, 10.4k    “Uh, hi,” says Finn. “We’re here to rescue you?” FULL DETAILS + RECS HERE!

[dustedmagazine]

Current 93 — The Light Is Leaving Us All (The Spheres)

The Light Is Leaving Us All by Current 93

“You can take him or leave him, but he absolutely stands above criticism because he’s completely true to his visions, beliefs, obsessions, whatever you want to call the substance of his songs… He’s alone in what he does, and that makes any evaluation of him in the conventional terms of music or literature beside the point.” That’s horror novelist Thomas Ligotti on Current 93’s David Tibet quoted in England’s Hidden Reverse. And Ligotti’s right. There are few artists who’ve remained as elusive and tantalizing as Tibet has over the course of his 30-plus year career.

The Light Is Leaving Us All, the latest Current 93 album, released via The Spheres, like the rest of Tibet’s dozens of releases, is likely to confound those who give it only a passing listen and awe the inquisitive few who respond with thoughtfulness, time and receptive ears.  

While the themes are appropriately lofty and will doubtlessly baffle anyone who isn’t Tibet himself, the album isn’t as impenetrable as some of his work. As is typical with later period C93, tracks are built upon instrumentation from a jumble of collaborators — Alasdair Roberts, Ben Chansy, Michael J. York, Ossian Brown and others. And musically, the themes are bright and organic — lyrical curls of acoustic guitar, bells and keyboards. Occasionally, such as on “The Postman Is Singing,” they rise to a nightmarish whorl. Yet, mostly they tend to the placid, beds for Tibet to work his lyrics around, assembling the narratives of his mystical hymns. Tibet also shuns guest vocalists this time out, a move which increases the resonance of his Patripassianist poetry. 

And it’s that poetry more than anything else which pulls listeners to Tibet’s world. Amidst sampled bird song, he warbles and creaks through his hallucinatory epics, spinning yet another chapter of his iconoclastic, contrarian career.  

Ethan Covey