Now I'm a fan of Epic: The Musical too, yay! So here is a crossover with Wei Wuxian.
Stranger Things
occasionally subtle

★

if i look back, i am lost
cherry valley forever
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
dirt enthusiast
RMH

Janaina Medeiros

⁂

shark vs the universe

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Acquired Stardust
Sade Olutola

Discoholic 🪩
Claire Keane

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
we're not kids anymore.
d e v o n
Jules of Nature

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@moonwolf-3
Now I'm a fan of Epic: The Musical too, yay! So here is a crossover with Wei Wuxian.
genuinely i dont even think that asoiaf believes in karmic justice, but it does absolutely believe in narrative retribution. the difference is one of proportionality: none of the characters deserve what's happened to them, but they all 'cause' their own fates on a broader scale. this is what a lot of the "subverting expectations" criticisms of the book get wrong; bad things don't happen to characters out of random chance, they happen as a reflection of their earlier actions.
jaime calls bran a cripple and thinks he would be better off with 'a good clean death,' and when he himself is crippled later he realizes that he would rather life over death. ned unjustly beheads gared and lady with the greatsword ice, and is himself unjustly beheaded by his own sword. jeyne calls arya a horseface, and she later has to masquerade arya for her own survival. even catelyn's death has a strange poetry: her last act before having her throat sawed is murdering jinglebell--the only frey present at the red wedding who was an innocent--in exactly the same way as she is killed a minute later. everything you do comes back to you, but that doesn't mean what happened to you was just.
i dont think it's a coincidence that every act of one-to-one retributive violence in the story rings hollow: arya killing the tickler, vargo hoat's dismemberment and death at the hands of the mountain, brienne killing shagwell the fool, jorah the slaver sold and branded as a slave. these aren't moments that give the characters catharsis. even the large examples: valyria salted the wreck of old ghis to make sure nothing could grow there again and enslaved half the known world and in return old valyria is a smoldering doom half-sunken into the sea, likely at the hands of the very slaves they ruled. aegon the conqueror put a blood curse on the burning wreckage of harrenhal so that nothing could ever survive there and in turn King’s Landing is going to be reduced to absolutely nothing. asoiaf's narrative retribution is karma without the justice.
A man in dark armor and a pale pink cloak spotted with blood stepped up to Robb. “Jaime Lannister sends his regards.” He thrust his longsword through her son’s heart, and twisted. (Catelyn VII, ASOS)
Jaime, clueless in the riverlands:
for art prompts: jily and harry on his 1st birthday !
Harry’s First Birthday
I don’t have kids but I find it hard to imagine a newly 1-year-old child having great balancing skills, so I added a built-in seat to his toy broomstick.
Greenseer
mentally I'm still here
So, happy birthday to me 💜 and I made a wangxian edit as a gift for myself.
He was still waiting for her to speak, to give him his final judgment.
魔道祖师, ch. 78
acok dany iv
Eddard Stark lifted his head and looked long at the weirwood, frowning, but he did not speak. He cannot see me, Bran realized, despairing. He wanted to reach out and touch him, but all that he could do was watch and listen. I am in the tree. I am inside the heart tree, looking out of its red eyes, but the weirwood cannot talk, so I can't. Eddard Stark resumed his prayer. Bran felt his eyes fill up with tears. But were they his own tears, or the weirwood’s? If I cry, will the tree begin to weep?
A Dance with Dragons, Bran III
A thin film of ice covered the surface of the pool beneath the weirwood. Theon sank to his knees beside it. "Please," he murmured through his broken teeth, "I never meant …" The words caught in his throat. "Save me," he finally managed. "Give me …" What? Strength? Courage? Mercy? Snow fell around him, pale and silent, keeping its own counsel. The only sound was a faint soft sobbing. Jeyne, he thought. It is her, sobbing in her bridal bed. Who else could it be? Gods do not weep. Or do they?
A Dance of Dragons, The Turncloak
三浦 璃来/木原 龍一 Riku Miura/Ryuichi Kihara (JPN)
2026 Olympic Winter Games Free Skate (158.13, WR)
what i think has to be understood about george’s love for tragedy is that it isnt really “george wont let us be happy because this is big boy fantasy” or “if you think this has a happy ending you havent been paying attention” (lol). he just seems to have an attachment to human fallibility and the melancholy:
and the whole magic of a sunset and what makes it so “moving” is the fact that the sun was there. he also quotes “despair is the ultimate crime,” and says that despite everything “the important thing is that love, compassion, and empathy with other human beings is still possible. laughter is still possible!” george’s brand of tragedy and melancholy exists to elevate or simply exist along with moments of triumph rather than diminish them, if that makes sense. same with “men’s lives have meaning, not their deaths” and “all men must die, jon snow. but first, we'll live.” the abyss is coming for everybody like we all are looking at the same ending here but tragedy does not define anybody any more than a triumph does
another layer that makes emerald fennels wuthering heights so hard to swallow is that it makes a complete mockery of a novel that sits firmly in the historic achievements of women writing fiction.
a novel written by a woman in the 1800s under a pseudonym due to the prejudices against female authors at the time. a gothic tale that deals with themes of racism, classism, and generational trauma.
and now, by popular association, a novel that is going to be likened to a 50 Shades of Grey, booksmut type fiction.
“is this the face of a conqueror? so far as she could tell, she still looked like a little girl.”
Is that a threat
She had made a better job of it than he could ever have hoped for. Even by lantern light, the sunset colors were rich and bright, the tree tall and strong and noble. The falling star was a bright slash of paint across the oaken sky.
The Hedge Knight, George R.R. Martin