#anyway it’s really good you guys should go watch it

[charlie-thewitch]

Chapter IV

First

Shen Jiu has to consciously stop his hand from playing with the reins. Eyes ahead, back as straight as a bamboo pole and biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from outright dumping the clone on the street.

Why. The. Fuck. Is he watching Shen Jiu so intensely for? Is he already regreting coming with Shen Jiu? Bad luck then. They are going to Cang Qiong and Shen Jiu is testing if they are related whether the copy likes it or not. He was the one to follow Shen Jiu, the fault is completely on the other.

Such a fool; offering him the missing piece of his identity. As is Shen Jiu would let him leave after that.

"You said we didn't have names" A simple opening, an offering to talk. If Shen Jiu has to carry any and all conversations he is honestly abandoning this guy anyway. "I suppose you have one by now"

"Ah" Some shuffling of clothes behind him and the other is even closer now although, blessedly, does not touch Shen Jiu at any point. Just leaning over the wooden boxes separating them. "Mo-Jie named me Yuan when I was little, after I was bought. She was the one in charge of the new slaves and taught us how to do chores" A sigh "I told her how mother used to call you her little warrior and she said "If he was her warrior you should be her shield""

Little warrior? Shen Jiu wouldn't ever have thought someone could think of him as a warrior. A coward if one asks Liu-shidi or Qi-shimei. A snake if one asks literally any of the others head disciples. Trash if Yue Qi ever deigns to answer anything. But a warrior?

"Xiǎo zhànshì?"

"Mmh. Mother used to say that Gege came to the world kicking so hard that he bruised the midwife at birth. A single little foot-shaped bruise" Shen Yuan laughs again. A sweet ringing bell. He is always laughing, Shen Jiu has found, always smiling now that they have left the auction. Maybe he is just an airhead. "And Gege would never let go of my hand in case I ran to make trouble, always so determined to keep Mother and this Didi safe... Always ready to kick that man when he was mean to us"

Hm. So his fighting was a natural thing, who would've thought.

"Gege has his own name now, right? Will he tell Didi? I don't mind just calling you Gege but I want to know" And here comes the feeling of inadequacy.

How nice of Shen Yuan to have been given a name with meaning. Something conected to his mother even when she couldn't give him one herself. How fortunate of Shen Yuan to have been sold to a nice house were other servants treated him so good.

Unlike this unlucky rotten brother that was given to the Qiu and treated worst that a pig. A living doll for the little mistress and a wiping boy for the young master. A toy for the household to play with. Furniture that doesn't protest the mistreatment and doesn't fight back. An unwilling treat for them.

How dare someone who stole his face have such a nice life, so cozy and comfortable. No wonder he gets to be so stupid as to follow a guy that could very well just resemble him by chance or a brother that could do anything to him.

"This one is Shen Jiu, Head disciple of Qing Jing Peak on Cang Qiong Mountain Sect" Maybe Shen Yuan had a happy life but Shen Jiu clawed his way to the top. He freed himself and brought himself to the place he has today. Fought, deceived and cheated his way to the second ranked peak of the most important and powerful sect in the world by his own hard work.

What of it if his cultivation is not as great as it should? He repaired it by himself with no help whatsoever. Shen Jiu would like to see someone as privileged as Liu Qingge do that without dying in the process. What of it if he fights dirty or is plagued by recurring qi deviations? He did what he had to and would do it all over again if he were to start over.

"Really?!" The yelling takes him by surprise. Shen Jiu turns arround just in time to see Shen Yuan almost fall from the cart from the jump he did after hearing that. There are those big and radiant eyes again, looking at Shen Jiu like no one else had ever seen him. Like he truly is worthy of awe. It makes him supremely unconformable. "Gege is so awesome! Isn't Cang Qiong the biggest sect? And Gege is head disciple!"

"Is not-"

"Gege must be so powerful and knowledgeable! No wonder he disarmed the guard and cultivator so quickly. They must've been so much older than Gege and he still won!" Shen Jiu turns back to facing the front, now determined to ignore the other. At least until his face cools down a little.

This is so stupid. Shen Jiu has never had this much trouble keeping his composture! Not even Liu-shidi can make him want to drown himself in the river like this. At best he makes Shen Jiu want to stab him a little, just a bit.

A murmur. "Oh, if only I could be more like Gege. Maybe if I had any talent Shifu would have taught me like a true disciple..."

Prev - Next (soon)

[jetskisonyourmoat]

My obsession with early interviews continues

Bonus clip of Alex getting incredibly distracted and forgetting he’s in an interview.

Part 1 and Part 2

[etherealhoneypie]

hey so any of my friends in the uk or canada or australia or really anywhere that isn’t the us wanna adopt me? i have a lot of thrifted furniture and a big record collection i can bring 🥰

[subsequentibis]

oh i wanted longlegs to be so much weirder than it was. it needed like three more script revisions and some deeper interrogation of the genre it sprang from, and someone to gently take the sound designer's hand on the volume dial and turn it down juuuuust a bit. i need the actual movie to be what scares me, not someone dropping a hammer on the piano to tell me i ought to be scared.

[nejackdaw]

Thinking about Celann and his ever present grief at the life he could have had, he and his wife and (he always hoped) their daughter. A life where he was a father--he'd hardly ever wanted anything more than that. So full of love he was ready to burst and needed somewhere to put it, wanted a life with his favorite girls.

Thinking about how the ever present desire haunts him no matter how deep he buried it. It keeps coming back, relentlessly, this anguish that he threw it all away. He could have had exactly what he wanted and he was stupid enough to abandon it all, and for what? Because he was upset? But then he always remembers how hollow he felt after the incident, like if you rapped him with a knuckle you'd hear he was just a shell. He forgives himself, then, remembers how wrong everything felt, and he thinks about all the time he spent desperately trying to make everything feel right again.

Remembers when he realized he was the problem, what needed to be fixed. Removed.

He abandoned the life he had and every dream he'd ever held close because he wasn't him anymore. Celann would never have killed anyone, would never have done... that. He was some other Celann, different, trying to make himself fit in the life of a man that no longer existed. And so he left.

And he has no right to ache so badly at the thought of what he gave up, no right to ache at the loss of a family (of two families, but he starts thinking that and breaks every time, so he's gotten good at simply skipping over the thought) when he was a killer--an adept one, a practiced one--that could mangle and maul and kill and do it again and again. What right does he have to still want that happy little dream?

But the dream is a ghost and it haunts him, is there every time he's out on a supply run and sees kids playing around the marketplace, sees women cradling infants and fathers carrying sons on their shoulders. (He reminds himself of the blood on his hands, is scared he might stain them with it if he reaches out to touch them.) It's there when he has a bag and his axe hanging from his hips and finds a girl crying for her mother, lost and separated, jostled by the crowd.

It's there as he calms her, kneeling on wet and gritty stone, hovering between her and the flow of the crowd so they give her space. He lifts her and holds her against his side with one arm and something in him weeps, feels something soft in him as her tiny weight settles and she starts chattering at him about the groceries she and her mother came to buy.

They weave their way through the marketplace as they help each other--she tells him where he can find what he needs, and he silently curses the nords and their height as he tries to peer over shoulders to catch a glimpse of the woman she described--and that cold weight that's usually settled in his chest, his grief and remorse, lightens with every step. She's warm through his sweater and splutters indignantly every time the ever changing wind blows her brown hair into her mouth and he laughs, quiet and warm.

They check places she's already been, in case her mother doubled back looking for her, and take detours so Celann can fumble to place newly acquired groceries in the bag beneath her, unwilling to hold her over the side with his axe and equally unwilling to put her down, awkwardly shifting her weight as she laughs at him. He's silly for buying such expensive things, she tells him, and he light heartedly tells her Skyrim is silly for not having the things he used to use in High Rock. The revelation he hasn't always lived in Skyrim excites her to no end, and the rest of the trip is a Q&A of the sort only a small child can provide.

He feels warm inside, in his chest, where usually he feels vaguely cold at best, and for a moment he's reluctant to relinquish her when they finally find her mother, guided by the sounds of panicked calls of her name. There's a fond sadness as he sets her down on the stones again, and the woman looks at him oddly for a moment before the look turns knowing, though he's sure the conclusion she reached is slightly off.

She quietly asks if her daughter reminds him of her. He stands there silently for a moment, looking down at the little girl as she rifles through the things her mother's found.

He tells her yes.

[edwinisms]

I know how it sounds at first, but I really gotta feel bad for the boys that sacrificed edwin; I mean even the term “sacrificed edwin” paints them in a more sinister light than they really deserve– considering that wasn’t really, actually their intention.

they were bullies, they were homophobic (and/or were self loathing gay boys themselves taking it out on edwin, or were equally likely peer pressured into acting a certain way), they planned something stupid and mean to do to an innocent, anxious boy with the goal of scaring the shit out of him, all because he was effeminate and an easy target. but they didn’t know or expect any of the ritual stuff to be real. they were all laughing and joking during the ritual because it was just that to them– a joke. a cruel joke, but a joke.

teenagers can be mean and stupid and they usually regret it as adults and grow out of it / grow from it. they were stifled the chance to grow out of it, at least while alive. none of those boys deserved to be instakilled and sent to hell; they’re really not that much less deserving than edwin himself. they were all just kids, after all.

[kens-puku]

Y'all are gonna think I'm so weird.

But I'm running with this idea I've had for a while for my mcl ocs. Well, other than the actual other mcl ocs I've made.

It's part lazy, part bizarre.

Clones.

Yep, clones.

My MCL NG oc is a clone of the original Puku, but different. I haven't figured out the details yet, but it's like what I did with Pukun, Puku's male clone. It has the idea of a type of clone theory idea of nature vs nurture. The DNA and nature of the puku clones is the same, but the nurture is always a bit different depending on circumstances. Puku "prime" is the parent of all the clones made, but Puku "prime" had a different parentage and upbringing than the clones. Not to mention, the events of each mcl game has different outcomes for clone Puku.

This Puku has -teal- hair and is a zoomer, I guess. Raised by Puku "prime" and has the existential grappling of dealing with being a clone in general.

There's... still a lot of ironing out to do. Like... Where does Kentin fit into all this? How should I incorporate the family given to Puku 2.0 in New Generation?

Why am I giving this plot to an MCL OC!??

lol

[em-b-sides]

I think about that tiktok trend where you like paint your partners eye color on your nails or make a bracelet or something with the color a lot actually

[f1owermoon]

sorry i just. need to rant for a second

[iknaenmal]

actually you know what. my blog my posts i can post about whatever i want

[running-in-the-dark]

I know I've been particularly incoherent for the past few days (again), and it's so dramatic and ridiculous but it seriously feels like something is punishing me. I just want to like things a normal amount. I just want to like people and characters a normal amount.

I don't want to become so fully obsessed that literally nothing else exists and thinking about anything else feels like my brain is being stabbed with a thousand tiny knives. I don't want to need to find every piece of information I possibly can on whoever it is this time. I don't want to feel like I'm (literally) losing my mind when I see them. I don't want any of this!

I can not believe that I exist as a human being on this stupid planet just to get obsessed with people over and over and over again forever.

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

I haven't done anything tonight yet bc I rediscovered Guitar Hero (damn I feel old XD)

but good news is I've only got 16 things left to do! by tomorrow, I should have more things in the queue than are left to be done, which is always a good feeling

I still have a little ways to go but DAMN I should have the askbox open in about a week! I'm so freaking excited <3

[makeitlookdecent]

more oc's.

the actual mc this time, and 2 "sentry androids".

[dmumt]

[wolves-etc]

there's a moment in the second hobbit film, a flashback, where thorin's sitting down in the prancing pony inn and going straight for the food and watching as a human dude just picks up a hobbit and sets him on a barstool, right?

it's a moment that looks habitual. familiar. the human says "master saddle," the hobbit seems comfortable with it. thorin doesn't even visibly react much. but I love the thought of him quietly in the back of his mind thinking "if anyone tries that with me, by my grandfather's blood they will get stabbed," and also "I will never find it in me to respect a hobbit."

[muirneach]

what people do not understand about westerns is that they do not have to be good. they have to be about a really weird and horrible guy who is in a situation. in the desert. and literally what else could you want