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Not a bot, just a lurker! Mostly dramas, occasionally cute animals. https://archiveofourown.org/users/caulkhead/

[luzzeagain]

What Tang Lian did on his holidays while he was 'dead'

(Yes, it's the 'retired assassin hangs out in a beach bar' trope. So shoot me) It was quiet, out here at the end of the world, but it was astonishing how gossip got through, all the same. Even without the luxury of a pigeon service, men talked when they drank, and if they didn't talk to each other, they talked to the bartender. Or sometimes, given the strength of shizun's brew, the wall. https://archiveofourown.org/works/80066851

[darkaviarymc]

Tragedy alignment chart. Feel free to use, but please reblog if you do.

[luzzeagain]

Is Mei Changsu extreme top right or extreme top left? Both? Neither? It's Schrodinger's yeti!

[luzzeagain]

Shameless self-promotion (fic version)

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

His first bleary thought is that Li Lianhua has ditched him again. You'd think he'd have given up by now, but then again, he apparently thinks Fang Duobing would have given up tracking him down by now, so perhaps they're even. The ropes binding his hands and ankles are a new variation, though....

[luzzeagain]

I'm not saying the Facebook marketplace has got a handle on my interests or anything but...

[tanuki-kimono]

[Ukiyo-e map], an interactive database showing the real locations behind famous painter Utagawa Hiroshige‘s works (thanks Nautiljon for the discovery!)

Listed on this site are the following series:

One Hundred Famous Views of Edo, like the peaceful garden of Kameido:

Famous Views of the Sixty-odd Provinces, with among others raging Naruto whirpool of Awa:

The Fifty-three Stations of the Tōkaidō, my favourite being the Hakone pass:

[nemainofthewater]

i hate job applications that ask you what your expected salary would be. You know how much you can pay me! You just me to undervalue myself so that you can save some money. My expected job salary is the maximum you're willing to pay me and then 5% more for having to answer that stupid question in the first place

[nemainofthewater]

This is the face of a man who got headhunted at a young age, left to establish his own start up, and then got thrown head first into job-hunting and learnt how to lie on his CV like a pro before deciding he'd rather perish than continue his job

(don't) Be like Li Lianhua

[zhoudadudugongjin]

This is the face of a man who got headhunted at a slightly-less young age and broke both of his fucking legs by lying under a horse and cart to get out of said employment

(don't) Be like Sima Yi

[luzzeagain]

This is the face of a man who fell victim to vicious corporate cuts in his very first job and never got over it. (Don't) Be like MCS.

[luzzeagain]

Normal character watching their spouse/lover picking up an umbrella on a sunny day "Oh, must be rain forecast later." Cdrama character watching their spouse/lover picking up an umbrella on a sunny day "Oh god they're about to break up with me."

[luzzeagain]

There are some fandoms that will cross over with anything. I'm still not sure there's any excuse for this one, but sorrynotsorry, Feathers McGraw *belongs* in a 1940s Shanghai spy melodrama. And therefore... Birds of a Feather

Smack. Smack. Smack.

The sound of deliberate footsteps approaching over the floor was indescribably sinister. Ming Tai knew what came next. He tried to brace for it without visibly tensing. Best pretend to be out of it until he absolutely couldn't; reap what information he could before giving anything away himself.

 The bucket of ice-cold water dashed in his face was as expected. The accompanying faint smell of fish was... not.

The blindfold was ripped away - they didn't care if he saw them, then. Not good, but not surprising. He bared his teeth into the feral grin they'd expect, and snarled up into the face of his captor. 

He saw only the ceiling - high; a warehouse? Not a prison, then; before a grip on his hair wrenched him back down, and he found himself eye to eye with... a mask? Expressionless black eyes stared back at him, surrounded by black feathers; the orange beak should have been incongruous, and was only more sinister. A second or two, until his watcher was sure he was focussed, and a blueprint was flourished in front of his eyes. Whatever the KMT had prepared him for, it wasn't this.

The figure in front of him waited expectantly. When he said nothing, it rolled its eyes, let the blueprint furl up on itself, then smacked Ming Tai a couple of times in the face with something that felt remarkably like a rubber glove. Back to the script, then. The familiarity was almost comforting. 

Then it took his head in both - flippers? Was there still some kind of drug in his system? - and pointed him at an easel, with a simplified version of the same blueprint. It was crude but recognisably the Japanese military headquarters. A pointer appeared from somewhere, hovered in the air (he didn't let his eyes follow it, didn't let his fingers twitch to test the strength of the bonds, shift his weight to try the stability of the chair), then tapped at two paths through it. Crudely drawn at the centre was something that appeared to be a diamond. Next to it, something marked PLANNS. 

The figure - penguin? Whether it was the drugs talking or not, for now he would think of it as the penguin - tapped at itself and then at the diamond. Then it repeated the gesture, pointing at Ming Tai and the PLANNS. 

"Oh, no, didi," said Ming Tai, not even sure if he was speaking aloud. "No. You think I'm going to..." The penguin somehow sighed without making a single sound, bounced the pointer several times off Ming Tai's head, and then bounced it insistently on the PLANNS. 

..."What plans?" asked Ming Tai, curiosity getting the better of him. 

***

Ming Tai stood in front of the mirror and tweaked his bow tie even. The dinner suit he was wearing was his own, although the face in the mirror wasn't, quite. Beside him, the penguin snapped a rubber glove over its own head, then ran a flipper through it so it sprang upright. A dashingly unrecognisable chicken stood in the penguin's place. Ming Tai nodded in appreciation, one professional to another. 

***

They were halfway round their respective circuits of the retiring room, tapping panels in the wall ini the dim half-light of the lamp, when the door handle started to turn. Against the wall, the penguin froze. 

Ming Tai took one long step forward, got one hand behind his partner's back and let the momentum carry both of them down into a dip. Tiny black eyes stared back at him with deep malevolence - but malevolence would read as passion at a distance. Without breaking eye contact, the penguin reached out with one flipper, grabbed a rose from a vase on a side table, and gripped it in its beak.

Light sliced through the room, illuminating a bright path through the shadows, but nothing further. Sounds of music crept in from down the hall. Ming Tai held the pose for a second or two, then pulled his partner up, through a sharp turn and spun him into a close hold. There was a muttered comment and a laugh, and the door swung shut again. He gave it a moment or two before he let go, just in case. 

The penguin looked at him expressionlessly, then trod hard on his foot, and returned to the search.

***

Finding the panel that slid back to reveal the stair up to the Commander's bedroom was almost an anticlimax after that. He covered the door, a heavy silver candlestick from the mantelpiece in hand, while the penguin worked at the safe with a set of complex tools it had produced from who knows where. Five minutes. Ten. The penguin wiped sweat from its brow; Ming Tai bit his lip. The first tumbler fell. The second. The safe swung open, revealing a flat leather jewellery box, a small lead tin, and, most interestingly of all, a stack of manila files. Ming Tai's fingers itched for his camera, but although he had his suit, he had absolutely nothing else. The penguin reached almost reverently for the case, and flipped it open. Light filled the room, blazing off a river of diamonds and a single sapphire the size of - well, a penguin's egg. Jiejie had a better one, but Ming Tai wasn't going to mention that. The case snapped shut and vanished into whatever qiankun pouch was hiding under those feathers. Ming Tai stepped forward, then drew up short as he found himself faced with the business end of a gun, the muzzle somehow still less threatening than those expressionless eyes. The gun stayed level as the penguin pattered away backward to the window. Only then, one flipper on the window latch, did it give a fraction of a nod. Ming Tai dropped to one knee and slowly, slowly eased the papers out of the folder, careful not to disturb what might be a pressure plate. He slipped them carefully into the double lining of his jacket, then eased to his feet. The window lock snicked. And alarm bells blared. The penguin was already out of the window, and Ming Tai halfway through after him, when something zipped past his ear, and a scream sounded from the room behind him. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Ming Tai dived out through the window, then scrambled two floors up - never down, they'd always look down - in through a cracked dormer on the roof, then down to the kitchens; just another guest looking to flirt with the serving staff.

The penguin had not given the impression of a bird that cared about its partner in crime, but perhaps he was covering his own escape. 

On the roof opposite, Ah Cheng nodded to himself and unscrewed the scope of his rifle.

(Author's note: Ming Tai wears ready-made bow ties in the show but it hurts me, so he's got a real one in this. Many thanks to @jianghushenanigans for finding such an excellent pair of photos).

[nemainofthewater]

Whether for the joy of it or the fact that there can be only one, these characters would not stop to think before attacking.

Character most likely to fight their own clone

Di Feisheng (Mysterious Lotus Casebook)

Fei Liu (Nirvana in Fire)

Lei Wujie (Blood of Youth)

Zhou Fei (Legend of Fei)

Shang Xirui (Winter Begonia)

Wang Zhi (Sleuth of the Ming Dynasty)

Liu Qingge (SVSSS)

Shen Li (The Legend of Shen Li)

Gao Da (Joy of Life)

Ye Zhao (Oh My General)

Tantai Jin (Till the End of the Moon)

Other - who have I forgotten?

Voting ended onDec 24, 2024

Write-ins, propaganda, and images are welcome!

[luzzeagain]

All these are wuxia, but have you considered the... other options? Ming Tai had been ill for several days. There was nothing particularly unusual in his malingering, though dajie fell for it as always, and encouraged him to stay in bed until he felt better. He actually stayed in his room, though, and talked very little, which was less usual. Nobody on earth sulked louder than Ming Tai. Ming Lou scoffed on the surface, and worried, privately, about a concussion, maybe even a knife wound, whcih the young idiot wouldn't admit to. A Cheng said there was no blood that he could find but... The absence of blood didn't stop A Cheng from worrying. Everything was exactly as it should have been and yet, very slightly off. A Cheng even found himself wondering if Ming Tai had a double, maybe a twin brother that none of them had known about, and then laughed at himself for watching too many cheap American thillers. After five days of this, it was almost a relief to be woken by a commotion coming directly from his bedroom. RIght up to the point where A Cheng kicked the lock in and Ming Lou shouldered through it, to find the window splintered and two identical and wildly kicking versions of Ming Tai locked in stranglehold on the floor. #The Disguiser #and that's if both versions of Ming Tai don't shoot each other first #and then there's what happens if Da Qing catches sight of himself in the mirror #probably still voting for Lei Wujie, though, he'd enjoy it so much

[jianghushenanigans]

Equality wins! (feat @luzzeagain and @nemainofthewater)

[luzzeagain]

[jianghushenanigans]

Benefits of prequels: I know who survives!

Negatives of prequels: I know who survives 😭

[jianghushenanigans]

More negatives of prequels: THE TIMELINE MAKES NO SENSE WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON

[luzzeagain]

To be strictly fair, the second statement applies to everything else we watch.

[armengoldira]

The Panama Canal

[sable-pigeon]

Nirvana in Fire and Ask a Manager (Part 1)

[luzzeagain]

YES (and why *has* NiF never turned up in Ask A Manager comments?)

[zhoudadudugongjin]

Mei Changsu & Fei Liu painting

Nirvana in Fire deleted scene [x]

[luzzeagain]

Words nobody says

Nobody says "He's your bodyguard, Chief. It comes with a degree of risk." Nobody dares. Nobody says "He's a child, what were you thinking?" Nobody has to. Mei Changsu can say all that, and worse, to himself, for hours and he has been. Long after the arrow is out, and the bloody cloths cleared away, and the patient in some sort of sleep, he is sat at Feiliu's bedside, unmoving, unthinking. He could almost wish he had never relearnt how to hope.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/57792685

[luzzeagain]

Dead Heroes Society

We all know the trope. Our protagonist is dead; be it by poison, sword, illness, cliff, treachery, cliff, qi deviation, jealousy, cliff... Their friends - and probably at least one of their bosom enemies - are a soggy mess. And so are we, the audience. Or are we? After all, it's only episode four. And that's if the whole death thing hasn't happened before the show even starts. It's such a familiar problem that somewhere in the jianghu (probably at the bottom of a cliff), there's an inn that caters specifically for a clientele who are - not as dead as they might be. But life as a jianghu innkeeper is never easy, and some have it worse than others. Resulting in:

Dead Heroes Society: The Rules

Discretion is paramount. Please respect the anonymity of others as you would like your own to be respected.

This means no laughing at other people's masks.

Any visi

ting lieutenants, shixiongmen, distraught lovers, brothers, mothers, archnemeses etc are to be dealt with by an unrelated third party. Your disguise is not as good as you think it is. This means you.

Pets are permitted only by arrangement with the management

Please do not cough blood in the common areas.

No sect business in the common areas.

Or sex. You know who you are. (And so do we.)

This is a nut-free establishment. The management thanks you for your cooperation

[welcometothejianghu]

[luzzeagain]

"I'm sorry," said Tang Lian, laying Xiao Se back on the bed. "It's not working." He drew the covers up around Xiao Se's shoulders, then walked to the window and stood staring blindly out into the rain.

"We can't have tried everything yet!" said Lei Wujie, from the corner where he'd been banished to make some of the worst tea Tang Lian had ever tasted. "What about dual cultivation?" Every eye in the room turned to him. Even Xiao Se moved his head weakly on the pillow. "Airhead, do you even know what that means?"

"I've read books!" said Lei Wujie indignantly. "Well, heard about books." He grimaced, then rallied. "Anyway, have you?"

"I'll have you know that I once owned the most exclusive brothel in all of Xian, brat." He broke off, coughing. "And did you actually do anything in it?" Qianluo asked sweetly. "...." mutttered Xiao Se, which she took, correctly, to mean "the accounts." "I bet dage has, though, haven't you dage?" Lei Wujie went on hopefully. Tang Lian's ears were bright red. "Not, er.... actually as such. "Senior brother!" Xiao Se's voice was barely a wheeze. "Not even books?" Tang Lian shook his head.