#The Sun's Burial
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the sun's burial (1960) dir. nagisa ōshima
#太陽の墓場#the sun's burial#nagisa ōshima#hono kayoko#isao sasaki#masahiko tsugawa#film aesthetic#film stills#film#vintage films#60s film#60s cinema#60s movies#60s vintage#japanese film#japanese cinema#japanese new wave#japanese nuberu bagu
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The Sun’s Burial (1960) // dir. Nagisa Ōshima
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Honoo Kayoko - Nagisa Oshima @sonimage1965
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The Sun's Burial
dir. Nagisa Oshima
1960
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The Sun’s Burial, Nagisa Ōshima
#the sun's burial#nagisa oshima#1960s#1960#60s#japan#japanese#film#cinema#cinematography#screencaps#stills
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It is, by far, way too funny to me how I've been confused about Karlach's inventory for god knows how long before realising what's wrong. I was convinced it was the game being bugged since she can carry like 250kg.
Then I realised... she's been carrying around Cazador's corpse all this time. This shit is so funny to me because can you imagine a group of 4 people walking around Baldur's Gate, just casually dragging the corpse of a vampire lord along with them as a sign of dominance (and forgetfulness of said vampire corpse).
Update - beware! There will be fun and fire!
#this is too fucking funny to me#how could i completely forget about this corpse in my inventory#astarion's probably thinking 'pls just let us leave this fuckhead in the blazing sun'#i tried this and nothing happened#then i just casually tucked him into my inventory again#karlach's thinking smth like 'pls let us burn him I hate carrying around enslavers'#so now that i know of this corpse's existence i begin plotting a fitting burial#and it's gonna be so disrespectful we'll all love it#i also took this fuckhead with me cause i usually loot such dumbasses naked and leave them laying but i wanted smth special#+ i couldn't loot his clothes#little fun fact: in actual life i truly arrange people's burials#baldur's gate 3#fun#karlach#bg3#astarion#baldurs gate 3#cazador szarr#baldurs gate iii#baldur's gate iii
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Winter sun (back in my arms) by barisan
Winter sun (back in my arms)
by barisan (@barisan-no)
T, 19k, Wangxian
Summary: Still, he cannot keep himself from seeing it. The way the corners of his mouth curl when he smiles, the way his eyes crinkle. The way he lets out a little snort before he laughs. The way he rubs the bridge of his nose when focused. Now that he has let himself see it, he cannot keep his mind from noticing each and every detail, cataloging what is his, what isn’t, and what is fully, simply, A-Yuan. His A-Yuan. The little mole by his lip, the shape of his eyes, his nose. A-Yuan, A-Yuan, A-Yuan. The Bio Dad WWX Au I’ve been screaming about for months. Kay's comments: Wanna have your heart ripped out of your chest and then carefully returned? Say less. This story is for you. It's so much hurt! So much ouch! And yet, so soft as well. A story in which A-Yuan is Wei Wuxian's biological son, but gets taken away because someone called the cops on Wei Wuxian for stealing diapers. Years later, Wei Wuxian is a school teacher and realizes that Lan Sizhui is his A-Yuan. Poor Wei Wuxian is really going through it here, but thankfully he has the support of his friends and his trusted service animal, which is a ferret! Super cute. Prepare for some major knives with a happy ending!! Excerpt: He remembers trying. He remembers the unending shifts, the ache on his limbs, the thumping on his head. He remembers giving everything he had, only to end up losing it all. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he bled, his son was gone. Three years, he had spent trying to make his life better, to make himself better. But he had been too late. By his son’s fourth birthday, Wei Ying had a small flat to call home, three jobs to pay rent and a completely furnished child’s room. By his son’s fourth birthday, Wei Ying had nothing.
pov alternating, modern setting, modern no powers, past wei wuxian/others, teacher wei wuxian, lan sizhui is a wei, single parent wei wuxian, single parent lan wangji, good parents lan wangji and wei wuxian, families of choice, burial mounds ensemble as family, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, adoption, recovery, fluff and angst, angst with a happy ending, getting together, homophobia, bad uncle lan qiren, developing relationship
~*~
(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)
#June 2024#Wangxian Fic Rec#The Untamed#Wangxian#MDZS#Kay's Rec#Winter sun (back in my arms)#barisan#teen#medium fic 15k-49k#pov alternating#modern setting#modern no powers#past wei wuxian/others#teacher wei wuxian#lan sizhui is a wei#single parent wei wuxian#single parent lan wangji#good parents lan wangji and wei wuxian#families of choice#burial mounds ensemble as family#hurt/comfort#emotional hurt/comfort#adoption#recovery#fluff and angst#angst with a happy ending#getting together#bad uncle lan qiren#developing relationship
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I call this one "I didn't know molly was supposed to be irish until I heard his dead corpse talking and now I can't stop thinking about it"
#i will pepper in the fact that i am irish#i think the whole idea suits him..... a whole burial site dedicated to dead kings or ppl of importance#w intricately carved stones based on their worship of the moon sun and stars as celestial beings....#hello.#meaty art#mollymauk tealeaf#mollymauk#critical role#mighty nein#cr2#digital art#my art#fanart#artists on tumblr#clip studio paint
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the only- ONLY!!!- thing stopping me from writing a fucking essay and manifesto on the entirety of this scene is the fact that i simply do not have enough time to. i dont care that it happened 3 years ago. i dont care that the discussion has run its course. i need this scene cemented as one of the best star wars scenes in the whole franchise and i am so serious about that.
#tbb#the bad batch#star wars#clone force 99#tbb hunter#tbb tech#tbb wrecker#tbb crosshair#tbb omega#tbb echo#finished rewatching with my sibling the other day and this scene just. fuck. it blows me away.#its RIGHT up there with luke looking at the suns/fives' death/kanan's death/332nd company burial/mustafar battle to me#(etc bc theres a lot of good scenes lol)#pudge yaks on#image#text
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post canon WWX in all of his happy glory ☀️ commissioned by @nthngtoseehere-blog 🌼
a follow up to this piece 🥀
commissions | patreon
#mdzs#mdzs fanart#wei wuxian#wei ying#mo dao zu shi#the grandmaster of demonic cultivation#jessbye#egg#was sooooo happy to work on this commission u dont even knowwww#guys theres so many juxtapositions i included in this w the original piece#and ive already talked abt it on twitter but im gonna say it here too#ITS THE SKELETON ARMS/LAN RIBBONS AND BONE CROWN/SUN RAYS AND BURIAL MOUNDS/JINGSHI WINDOW#AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH#I have so many feelins
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sun bleached flies, ethel cain // st. sebastian (c. 1615), guido reni
#there was a version of this with the burial of st lucia also but elly rightfully argued for this one#ethel cain#st sebastian#guido reni#classical art#lyrics edit#sun bleached flies#yes im back with more lyric imposed on paintings#ok so like. technically this doesn't really work bc he survived the arrows and died later#but like i like how this looks#girl help i cannot stop putting lyrics onto images
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isao sasaki as takeshi in the sun's burial (1960) dir. nagisa ōshima
#太陽の墓場#the sun's burial#nagisa ōshima#kayoko honoo#isao sasaki#film aesthetic#film stills#film#vintage films#60s film#60s aesthetic#japanese film#japanese cinema#60s cinema#60s vintage#60s movies#east asian cinema
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The Sun's Burial (1960) // dir. Nagisa Ōshima
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Terrarium Lights, Pt. 2.5
Last time on Terrarium Lights: the boi is struggling with the reality of having a hole in his memories. Gail is struggling about whether or not she should tell him that he is, in fact, a ghost. (Next part >>here)
The ghost agreed to go with Gail to the cemetery the next afternoon.
"I think it might be good," he said. "I can see more places, and maybe something new will help. Somehow."
"And a good walk can be just the thing to clear your head," Gail offered as further reasoning.
It was the anniversary of her parents' death, and she was going to leave flowers on their graves, her uncle’s grave, and David’s grave.
When she had been younger, cemeteries had fascinated her. Now, with more sadness associated with them, her enthusiasm was tempered somewhat—and yet, despite that, she still quite liked them. They had character, and history, and she had friends there. Sometimes, she told Michael that she was scouting the place out, so she could be familiar with it when she ended up there herself.
She gathered an assortment of flowers from her garden (daffodils, drift roses, and gerbera daisies) and arranged them in bundles in a basket. There was no direct path to the cemetery, but she didn't mind. It was a lovely spring day, the sun was shining, and the wind brought hints of seasalt with it.
The lad followed along behind her, in one of his quieter moods. His hands were in his pockets, and he mutely observed the world around him with attentive eyes. Those didn't seem fully brown today, but he still seemed aware of what was going on around him.
As they went down the road, they passed an open space where, looking seaward, one could see the lighthouse lifted against the sky. The lad stopped. Noticing his absence from her side, Gail turned to find him focused on it intently.
"Is that the one you've been telling me about?"
"Yes. The coastline hereabouts has a lot of shoals and shallows and salt marshes, and pokes out into the sea some, so the lighthouse is there to guide the ships into harbor without them running foul of those, at the mouth of the bay. Some good spots for oysters, though. Not as good as further South or East, but you get a decent harvest."
He took the information in without comment, standing and staring with his hands in his pockets.
"Does it… perhaps remind you of anything?" Gail hazarded when he didn't move for another minute or so.
"I… I can't quite tell." He looked away, down at the ground, kicking a shoe against the ground. "There's something about it, that feels closer than the memories, but I don't know what that might be. Newer and older than all of it. And try as I might to make something of it, the piece that would make it make sense is missing."
Gail hummed sympathetically. "Maybe it will come to you as we walk? If not, we can visit it sometime later. If you're up to it, maybe today, after our visit to the church."
"I don't know if today," he said, squaring his shoulders. “I…I’m really still not sure about going new places. But I think… I might like to try going there. I don’t know when. But… I think I should. Someday."
"Very well then," Gail patted his shoulder as she led the way onward. "We should plan for it. Maybe in a couple of weeks. We can see how you’re feeling then."
He murmured something in agreement and trudged after her.
Past the salt marsh, up the road, into a forest of oaks and Spanish moss, then the church.
It was a small chapel, of wood, and whitewashed. Its steeple rose up to bear its cross, but not higher than the trees surrounding it. Gail had always found it charming—large enough for those who met there, with rooms to spend time together in fellowship, a carved cross on the wall behind the pulpit, a smell of wood and polish and old books, and simple but lovely stained glass windows. Certainly there were larger, grander chapels and churches deeper into Santa Juliana, but those were far away, and—to her mind—less pleasant. Besides, this was where her friends were, and Pastor Jeremiah was a good shepherd to his flock.
Before heading to the graveyard, Gail went inside the church to pray, sitting on one of the back pews. It was quiet, soothing, and cool after the trek through the woods. She prayed over her family—alive and dead—and their works in all their different places, for Mrs. Oberson and her growing sickness, for the lad, for wisdom in helping him, for her congregation and pastor.
It all took longer than she had planned, a calm, unhurried peace seeping into her as she sat and laid her people and her concerns before the Lord.
The lad sat beside her.
She didn't know if he was praying, too, or just waiting for her to finish. He seemed to sense something of her mood and the silence that lay unbroken in the sanctuary, and made no attempt to interrupt or hurry her, or even question her. Gail supposed he was likely to do so on the return journey.
On the seat beside them was a hymnbook, open to the beginning of "Rock of Ages." He seemed to be reading that. To Gail's surprise, when she looked back at him after her prayer time, she found that he had turned the page, and turned it back again, holding it gently as if prepared to scour both sides of it.
It was, as far as she could remember, the first time he had directly interacted with the physical world in a way that moved it.
He noticed her watching, and put the page back. "Is it time?" His voice was hushed, little more than a whisper.
She nodded, and picked up her basket of flowers.
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#let it be known that my queue was playing a song about cemeteries as I posted this#(chasing the sun by sara bareilles)#inklingschallenge#inklings challenge 2023#team lewis#genre: portal fantasy#theme: burial#theme: visiting the sick#story: finished#the santa juliana files#gail goffrey#ocs#writerblr#original characters#salt and light#original content#scribe does inklings#first draft
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thinking bout the desert again, as one does
#ooc;; mun barks#//to be deleted;#oh it will swallow you whole boy#rid you of your earthly form and pick your bones clean and u shall become dust unto dust unto dust#and the sun will sear your soul and it will lay you bare and you - reduced to your basest parts -#will know the eye of god#shambling son - prodigal son - heathen boy with no name#😩😩 this place is deep in your bones - split you open and there lies#the dusty mesas; the twisting arroyos; coyote tracks and dead cattle bone#who's haunting who: between the ghost who left its own burial or the land that has baked itself deep into ur very being#there are certain things you can never leave no matter how far you travel – the blood you inherited of ppl long gone and this#wretched place
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any jungle/DnB recs?
anon this question is so good but also holy shit this is such a hard question to answer. like. where are you in regards to knowing shit abt fuck. are we talking yr new to this or you want some 90s classics from beyond the veil. gateway drug or designer shit. liquid dnb or neurofunk. dubstep or breakcore. what am i reccing here.
that said listen to calyx
#ask#but seriously there's so many things going on here#i like black sun empire and concord dawn#i like mid 10s netsky and SPY#i like burial and vacant and sorrow#SO many.
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