#bc i have to

[small-jar]

Did hannibal and will have to take a general psych class

Most likely

[lunaetis]

@apocryphis replied to your post :

al-haitham, looking in silence, and taking off his shirt while maintaining eye contact. now nobody has a shirt. is this solidarity. challenge. appreciation. who knows. now what.

​─「エデン」─  one would think the trailblazer would be familiar with him, body and soul, by now, to not be too affected by the sight of him baring himself like that. truth is, however, the way the space raccoon literally FROZE in place, pupils wide at the majestic sight before her spoke otherwise. eden wasn't sure what sort of message he was sending.

                but she ain't complaining.

                and without a word, she just took a step closer. one. two. before literally plopping her chin onto his exposed chest, arms looping around his middle to prevent him from pulling away just yet.

                " five minutes. " muffled. best boyfriend. 100/10 will do it again.

[silverandarsenic-hcs]

Heyy here an idea for the cristmas spirit: Imagine that the Papas and ghouls are into it very much as well and the ghouls are like wearing instead of horns reindeer antlers and the papas are like #1 and #2 being in their normal robes but in red and white and w santa hats and #3 wears those tight ass shorts and theres written "Im your present" or "I were naughty this year" and he also wears red and white high knee socks 🔥

Wish you a merry christmas & a great new year and I hope you two are fine 💛

This is so cute omg. I know it's late but ive been so drunk i havent had time to write this so here are my christmas hcs

Papa Nihil: He wanted his kids to be like any other when they were small, so he let them indulge in a few christmas festivities - it was more of a winter solstace celebration than a santa claus treeinthehouse type deal at first, but his sons caught on quickly and for the last year papa I wasn't old enough to make fun of him, Nihil even dressed up in a santa suit with a fake beard and everything. He left the gift buying to Sister, and let everyone from the church decorate the huge evergreen tree in the garden with colored lights and glittering baubles. These days he just sits around and watches everyone partake in the christmas spirit

Papa I: Loved christmas when he was younger, because what child doesn't, but grew out of it quickly. He went through a long phase where he wouldn't even attend the event, telling everyone it was stupid and a church like theirs shouldn't be participating in such holidays. As he got older he softened a little when he realized it made everyone else happy, and that if he wanted to be liked he had to give in, so he dressed in red robes and had someone pick out presents for him to give

Papa II: You would think he hated christmas more than his brother, but it was a party, so of course he was down. For the month of December he's walking around with eggnog in his thermos, and getting wasted on mulled wine while he helps decorate the tree. He's only around for the ghouls baking cookies because most of the liquor in the building is kept in the kitchen, and he likes eating the raw dough. On the 24th he wears a dark green suit, and his finest Italian leather boots - he played santa for his younger brother when his older and their father wouldn't any longer. He hoped III was too young to remember. If anyone says anything about III's christmas spirit he just tells them he's pregaming for new years eve.

Papa III: Absolutely fucking loves christmas. All the red, the decorations, the gifts, the cookies, the big family dinners. He oversees every single christmas related practice in the church - making schedules on when to bake, when all gifts should be ready in the parlor, when dinner starts, and what everyone wears to the event. When he isn't in his robes, all month he's walking around in a red tank top and shorts that do say something stupid on the ass - "I've been naughty", "I'm your present", "Jingle these balls", "Unwrap me", and "Sleigh" are a few of his favorites. He drags everyone out to christmas markets in town for shopping and mulled wine and some fun in the snow. On the evening, he's in the kitchen overseeing dinner, making sure places are set just so, and serving themed drinks to everyone else relaxing in the parlor.

Copia: He's just as into Christmas as III, but he isn't quite ready to take over the hat and III isn't ready to give it up, so he's more of an assistant throughout the holidays. He's try to learn as much as possible so when he's finally allowed to take over he doesn't ruin it for everyone - apparently it doesn't matter who the current papa is, it matters who has the most spirit in their heart. Or whatever. He makes drinks, and cooks in the kitchen with III, and does most of the helping when it comes to the cookies. Though Aether is a good enough leader, they still can't be trusted alone in a kitchen anyone will ever have to use again. He gets his rats festive toys and decorates their cage in tinsel, and lets them indulge in any crumbs they can find.

The ghouls love christmas because it's tradition and that's always sacred to them, so they do everything they can to make the most of it. For the final week leading up, they trade their regular masks for similar ones with antler horns, and wear red and green versions of their regular suits. Swiss and Dew are outside setting fire to every tree around the decorated one - they say it makes the lights shine brighter. Aether is helping everyone get gifts for each other and making sure everyone gets their share of cookies, and Mountain and Rain are making snowmen all along the property from the second it sticks. The girls are head of tree decorating, and make sure they get every last decoration out of storage so it can look not just the same as last year, but better! Cirrus always buys more from the market anyways, and one of these years the branches are gonna be a little too heavy, Cumulus says. Every night leading up they all put on their themed PJ onsies and sit in front of the fireplace in the parlor and watch christmas movies. Dew hates the music but Aether makes everyone sing in chorus anyways

- Rosie, who is sorry this is late but wishes everyone a merry christmas anyways

[baoshan-sanren]

Chapter 31

of the wwx emperor au I’m thinking of calling Lan QiRen’s Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week oh god it’s only gonna get worse

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 Part 1 | Chapter 8 Part 2 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 Part 1 | Chapter 15 Part 2 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 Part 1 | Chapter 22 Part 2 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24 | Chapter 25 | Chapter 26 | Chapter 27 | Chapter 28 | Chapter 29 | Chapter 30

The Lan Sect camp is small. It is also a bit pitiful, with a distinct lack of tents, bedrolls, or any other necessary accommodations.

Still, Wei Ying is impressed by their diligence. Long before he is aware that there is a camp in the vicinity, a lookout has already spotted them and signaled their approach. The location had not been carelessly chosen either. The sight lines to the north, east, and south are clear, and to the west, a rugged hill rises sharply, hiding the camp from the Immortal Mountain watchtowers.  

He does not have to ask how the site for the camp was chosen. He is already beginning to suspect that Lan QiRen has many more layers than he lets on, aside from the unexpected sense of humor.

Three other Nie Sect disciples have caught up with them on the outskirts of YiLing, providing a small escort. According to Nie XuanYu, another dozen are following a distance behind, ensuring that the Emperor’s presence remains a secret. Lan Zhan is walking by his side, his posture dignified and reserved. He does not speak.  

Despite clearly intending to remain out of sight, the Lan Sect disciples have not gone as far as to trade in their white uniforms for something a little less obtrusive. Among them, it is easy to pick out Nie MingJue’s dark shape, which makes the figure next to him that of Lan XiChen. The two people across from them are unfamiliar. He takes one of them for a Lan Sect disciple precisely due to the color of robes, the white layers glowing brightly in the darkness. It is not until the figure turns, displaying an equally white blindfold, that Wei Ying stumbles a step.

“Uncle?”

The answering grin, visible even in the gloom, propels him forward.

“Uncle!”

Forgetting he is no longer twelve years old, he crosses the last bit of distance at a run, and nearly knocks Xiao XingChen over with his exuberance. XingChen laughs, his grip as tight as Wei Ying’s.

Oh, but when had uncle become so small?

Nearly four years have passed since their last parting. Is it possible that Wei Ying had grown so much, that he no longer has to lift his gaze to see XingChen smile? Unexpectedly, he feels his eyes prickle, and rubs his face with both hands, covering the sudden wistfulness with a laugh. He is happy to see that uncle’s faithful shadow had not grown smaller, still towering over them both.

The man attempts to bow, and Wei Ying latches on to his forearms, keeping him upright.

“Song Lan. Did I not say my uncles should never bow to me?”

A ripple of shock travels through the surrounding Lan disciples. The Empress’ brother is conspicuous enough, his sword and blindfold easily giving him away, but the man at his side had been taken for a simple bodyguard. To hear the Emperor address him as family raises more than one speculative whisper.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty,” Song Lan says, “I had forgotten.”

“Ah, ah, now I am Your Majesty, but the last time you were at the Immortal Mountain, you called me a rotten little troublemaker. You threatened to kick my royal backside off the rooftop if I insisted on staying out past midnight. Do you remember that?”

The politely respectful expression on Song Lan’s face shifts into fond exasperation, “I am afraid my memory is especially poor lately, Your Majesty.”

Before he could think of a way to respond, Wei Ying suddenly realizes that Lan Zhan’s presence, which had been steady at his side since YiLing, is no longer there.

He turns to find him standing a few steps back with Lan XiChen and Nie MingJue, obviously attempting to remain invisible.

“Lan Zhan!”

Although he thinks he has never seen Lan Zhan look this alarmed, not even when he had mistaken Wei Ying for an assassin, he grabs the edge of the voluminous sleeve anyway, excited to introduce the man he means to marry.

“Come meet my uncle.”

Lan Zhan allows himself to be tugged forward, and offers a formal greeting, his posture rigid, his face unreadable.

Uncle is all gentle politeness, admitting that he had been the one to send the Lan Sect disciples into YiLing, unaware that his request had gone directly against the Sect Leader’s orders. He expresses regret for having placed them at risk, and from Lan XiChen’s expression, Wei Ying surmises that uncle had already apologized once.

XingChen inquires after a few of the Lan Sect members he had met on his travels, mentions that he dearly misses the excellent cuisine at CaiYi town, and compliments the Lan Sect efforts in LianYi during the drought.

In short, uncle is trying, to the best of his ability, to put Lan Zhan at ease. But although Lan Zhan is unfailingly courteous in return, his palpable discomfort does not wane.

Suddenly, Wei Ying feels guilty.

It occurs to him that he has done nothing but pull and push Lan Zhan in every possible direction for the past five days. Less than an hour ago, he had done a terrible job of confessing how he feels, managing to not give voice to any of his carefully planned out, honorable intentions. His fumbling is unlikely to have produced anything other than frustration and confusion, to which now, Lan Zhan must add a dose of casual banter with the Shan Empire’s notorious Rogue Prince.

The moment XingChen runs out of pleasantries, Wei Ying tugs on Lan Zhan’s sleeve again, but gently this time, trying to convey an apology, “Lan Zhan, we should go sit by the fire. The night is getting cold. Uncle, come sit down and tell me what brings you to YiLing.”

“Your Majesty,” Nie MingJue cuts in, “it is quite late. If you mean to enter by the Five Phoenix Gate instead of sneaking in the same way we had snuck out, I am afraid that delaying your return will only work to our disadvantage. We should start back the moment the rest of the Nie Sect arrives from YiLing.”

Wei Ying cringes. He had not even considered the mechanics of returning with the rest of the Lan Sect disciples, let alone with uncle in tow. Uncle Jiang will be upset, and Madam Yu-- he shudders. Best to not think of unpleasant things until they are upon him.

“Very well, please instruct the Lan Sect to break camp. Uncle, will you come with us?”

XingChen turns to Song Lan, and Wei Ying thinks that even after all these years, it is still eerie to see, how they seem to share a look of understanding.

“We are hunting,” XingChen says, “so our stay must be short.”

Wei Ying waves his hand, “I knew that much without being told. You are terrible uncles, both of you. I know you would not have come all the way to YiLing just for my birthday.”

The fond exasperation on their faces is now identical.  

“Tell us what you are hunting,” Wei Ying grins, “Perhaps we can help.”

“Not what,” XingChen says, “but who.”

“A person?” Wei Ying exclaims in surprise, “an ordinary person?”

“There is nothing ordinary about this person,” Song Lan says, his expression turning hard, “So far, over three hundred people have been slaughtered by him. He has obliterated four villages and two small clans, leaving no one behind.”

Wei Ying feels a chill, “Who is he?”

“We do not know,” XingChen says, his calm edged with frustration, “He leaves no witnesses. One merchant, who had happened upon a village not long after everyone in it had been killed, spoke of seeing a young man, a boy, still alive. He could have been a lone survivor, or he could have been the perpetrator, but he was long gone by the time we arrived. So far, we have been following the trail of dead bodies across the Empire, but know little more than we did months ago.”

“You think he is here,” Lan Zhan asks, his discomfort seemingly forgotten, “In YiLing?”

“The trail had gone cold in LanLing,” Song Lan says, “but there was an incident between LanLing and YiLing, a group of bodies discovered in an old barn. The method by which they were killed was similar enough to bring us here.”

“I do not understand,” Wei Ying says slowly, “There are appropriate channels in place to deal with ordinary murders, even if they are beyond gruesome. What are you not telling me?”

Song Lan glances at XingChen again, but this time, XingChen ignores him, the twist of his mouth tight and unhappy.

“You know why the murders are occurring,” Lan Zhan says coldly, “There is a purpose to them.”

Lan Zhan’s expression is hard and determined, as if he means to shake them both until the information they are holding back flows forth. He looks grim, his spine straight, his fingers tightly wrapped around the sword. He looks dangerous. He looks regal.

Wei Ying feels his face tingle. There is an uncomfortable coil of heat building in his stomach at the sight, and he bites his tongue, hoping the flash of pain will stop the heat from spreading.

“Resentful energy,” Song Lan says.

XingChen looks even more unhappy now, but he does not make a move to stop Song Lan from speaking.

“We think he has found a way to harvest and store resentful energy.”

“Impossible,” Lan Zhan breathes, “even YanLing DaoRen himself could not--“ he cuts off abruptly, mouth snapping shut.

Wei Ying is still reeling from the information, not quite able to come up with the right words. But he immediately understands why Lan Zhan has fallen silent. YanLing DaoRen could not store resentful energy, but his failed attempts are the stuff of nightmares. Raving mad, he had threatened to shift rivers and level mountains once his experiments were complete. But in the end, the only place he had ever been able to store resentful energy was his own fragile human shell, which had rotted from inside out, unable to contain the power he craved.

Wei Ying clears his throat, “How can you be sure he has found a way to store it? Perhaps he is only following in YanLing DaoRen’s footsteps.”

Song Lan shakes his head, “Over three hundred people gruesomely slaughtered by him alone? Taking in that much resentful energy would have driven him mad. He could not have passed all this time unnoticed. The signs of his deterioration would be obvious to anyone who crosses his path. No,” he shakes his head, “I am afraid we must assume that he has succeeded where YanLing DaoRen has failed.”

“The greatest threat since YanLing DaoRen,” Lan Zhan says softly, “and you did not inform anyone. You did not send a word of warning to the Emperor.”

His voice is soft, but the grip on his sword is now so tight, that Wei Ying can see his fingers turning white from strain. He has seen Lan Zhan angry before, but never like this. This fury is cold, and devastating, and magnificent to behold.  

“Did it not occur to you,” Lan Zhan says, “that he is heading towards YiLing for a reason? That the Emperor’s birthday festival in YiLing is precisely the sort of chaos in which he can be easily concealed? That hundreds of visitors are entering and exiting the Immortal Mountain City each day, being screened by ordinary guards who would never sense an object filled with resentful energy? Did it not occur to you that the Emperor is the most likely target of this creature, and that he should be warned?”

“WangJi,” XiChen’s voice comes from behind them, a gentle warning.

He moves to stand by Lan Zhan’s shoulder, a calming presence next to Lan Zhan’s cold fury.

“Please forgive my brother,” XiChen says, “he spoke in haste. He means no disrespect.”

Lan Zhan’s expression clearly states that he may have spoken in haste, but that the disrespect was meant and well deserved.

Wei Ying does not want Lan Zhan upset with uncle. He does not want Song Lan angry with Lan Zhan for disrespecting uncle. But he can do absolutely nothing about either of those things, because his mind is utterly preoccupied by the fact that Lan Zhan is dangerous, and beautiful, and incensed on his behalf.

Lan Zhan is afraid that this madman means to hurt Wei Ying. Lan Zhan is worried about him. Lan Zhan cares about him. Lan Zhan cares about him.

He feels his mouth trying to stretch into a smile, and curses himself six times over. Everyone around him is tense enough to draw swords, he should not be grinning like an idiot.

Lan Zhan cares about him!

“Your Majesty.”

XiChen is looking at him. There is something uncomfortably knowing in his gaze.

Wei Ying clears his throat, then does it again. He is afraid his voice will come out hoarse and obviously besotted.

“Lan Zhan is right,” he says, “I may be well protected, but every Sect Leader and Young Master in the Empire is currently residing at the Immortal Mountain. They may all be at risk. Why would you not send word?”

Song Lan has moved closer to XingChen, as if he means to protect him from Lan Zhan’s fierce gaze. He opens his mouth to speak, but XingChen silences him with a touch to the elbow.

“I believe the Young Master is correct,” XingChen sighs, “We were wrong to conceal it for so long. It has been a frequent subject of discord between us, this decision. But Song Lan does not understand the power dynamics at court. He does not understand the precarious balance involved in ruling all the Sects in the cultivation world. YanLing DaoRen’s name still invokes fear and mistrust. I was afraid-- I was afraid that the truth would sow panic. Worse, that it may give some of the Sects an opportunity they have long sought, to remove YanLing DaoRen’s bloodline from the seat of power, and take the throne for themselves.”

“We intended to catch him long before now,” Song Lan says roughly, “We could only be certain that he is heading in the direction of YiLing on the second day of the festival. The trail was days old by then.”

“I am sorry to have placed the Lan disciples at risk,” XingChen says softly, “but once we learned that you were wandering around YiLing on your own, unprotected, we used whatever means we had at our disposal.”

“I was not unprotected,” Wei Ying says absently, “Lan Zhan was with me.”

He spends a few moments preoccupied with the idea that the incidents at the Immortal Mountain and the man uncle is hunting must somehow be connected. But no matter how he turns the events over, he cannot see that they have anything in common. A man who had slaughtered over three hundred people in order to collect the resentful energy from their corpses does not seem like someone who would go through the trouble of coating Lan Zhan’s teacup with poison.

Still thinking so, he realizes that everyone else has fallen silent. Song Lan is frowning at Lan Zhan. Xiao XingChen is smiling softly, his head turned in the direction of the camp, as if privy to something amusing that only he can hear. XiChen is smiling softly too, his eyes trained in the opposite direction.

Lan Zhan is not smiling. He is staring at Wei Ying, his ears red, his expression somehow lost, as if Wei Ying had done something preposterous again.

Wei Ying is pretty sure he has not done anything to merit that expression.

“Lan Zhan?”

Lan Zhan shakes his head and looks away. Behind them, Nie MingJue clears his throat.

“Your Majesty, I do not mean to interrupt, but the Nie Sect is all accounted for, and the Lan Sect is ready as well. We should head back.”

Wei Ying nods. During all the fascinating revelations, he has managed to forget what waits for him at the Immortal Mountain.

He thinks he would rather face a mass-murdering madman than Madam Yu.

[smolfoxbab]

why do I do these things

[emxncipxte]

imessage → asher drew

Veronica: are you occupied?

Veronica: kinda wanna get distracted tonight

[theunabridgedjournalofcourt]

i’ve been to a concert of shawn’s almost every summer of my high school career. it’s been a fun ride filled with memories and songs that will always feel like a warm hug. so it’s a little cheesy and a whole lot sappy but nothing makes my heart sing more than getting to have one last go around with my best friend to send me off into my last year of high school. cheers to shawn mendes for becoming a whole! confident! sorta dancing! talented! rockstar! in the last three years and cheers to me for ending my high school career not being afraid of being judged by others or insecure to be the most! me! i’ve ever been. love that kind of character development for the both of us ! <3

[volchizta]

HOW THE SHARPNESS OF MY TEETH DULLS WHEN HER THROAT IS THERE-  NAKED  &  SACRIFICIAL  .   how we make a ritual of it  ,  how i snap my ribs each night  ,  i make a gift of my heart  ,  i put it to her mouth red like slaughter  .  what feasts we make of each other when the moon wanes  &  even she must blush at our ravenous carnage  .  at our love with all its teeth  ,  unashamed  .  i smile at her  ,  absently now  ,  my affection plain  ,  tender  . ‘   what was that  ,  natya  ?  i lost myself  &  hardly heard you  .   ‘

@viduamor