#sweet decadence

[wangxianficrecs]

sweet decadence by breathrou

sweet decadence

by breaththrou

M, WIP, 15k, Wangxian

Summary: Lan Xichen breathed in sharply, a crazed laugh escaping him. He lifted his gaze to meet his eyes, a look of despair etched onto the hard lines of his face. "My brother... my brother has always been our mother's child. For that, he could not live. He is gone. I could not find him, and I could not have brought him home. I can only hope now that Wangji is at rest," he said quietly, the wind whipping the greying locks of his hair around his face. Wei Wuxian stared at him, horrified. Lan Xichen looked away as fresh tears rolled down his cheeks. "I have only ever wished happiness for my brother, but I fear I have instead brought him death." Kay's comments: Oh, this story really has me on a tight hold and I can't wait to see what happens! It's starting out with Lan Wangji not returning to Gusu after he saved A-Yuan (and his sister, who also lived in the Burial Mounds!!) and instead seeking shelter at Luo Qingyang's place. We also got more of him being defiant and seeking out his mother more often back when she was still alive. The Lan Xichen POV to finding his brother gone in chapter two was also *chef's kiss* Excerpt: It was a normal day for Lan Xichen. Of course, as normal as a day can be when one’s brother gets whipped within an inch of his life and remains completely immobile. If normal could be defined as being consumed by your worries, then Lan Xichen’s day was absolutely normal. It was not as if Lan Xichen’s childhood was not defined by being a mediator between his brother and his uncle, between his brother and the elders. Surely, this push and pull would remain for the rest of their lives. Lan Xichen sighed. He sat himself on the side of his bed and nimbly pulled his hair out of his sleeping braid. The same braid he tied for his brother every morning. As Lan Xichen got dressed for the day, putting on all six pristine layers of his robes, he stopped at his desk. These days, he found himself almost crushed with the amount of work he had to do. Shufu, at the very least, decided to take on the work that Wangji could no longer do. Lan Xichen knew Shufu cared for and loved Wangji, but sometimes, even he himself found it hard to believe.

pov alternating, canon divergence, lan wangji leaves the gusu lan sect, rogue cultivator lan wangji, lan wangji is lan sizhui's parent, fatherhood, disability, madam lan backstory, wen qing lives, sentient burial mounds, wie wuxian in wei wuxian's body, families of choice, grief/mourning, lan wangji & luo qingyang friendship, angst

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[goryhorroor]

“horror movies of the 1970s reflect some of the grim social developments of the decade. fortunately, when society goes bad, horror films get good. in the 1970s horror makes its way back into the cultural spotlight. horror movies dealing with contemporary social issues and addressing genuine psychological fears were big hits during the decade.”

[wulfhalls]

corrupted godhood. reluctant false messiah. prophecy as a creeping all consuming malady. does the oracle see the future or make the future? the horror of trapping yourself inescapably on purpose. the chains of destiny dragging you towards the path you are fighting tooth and nail to free yourself from. there never having been a chance to begin with. no other choice to make. but making that choice regardless.

[charlietheepicwriter7]

Talia found Yasmin's hide out only two days after the bomb.

It wasn't easy. Yasmin had hidden herself well - her monthly reports had never mentioned an acquaintanceship with Vladimir Masters, the absolute gall of that girl - in the middle of nowhere Wisconsin. She bypassed the few security measures with ease, eventually finding her daughter sitting at a kitchen table, hyperventilating.

"What happened?" Talia's voice was cold and demanding.

"The-" Yasmin gasped before stealing herself. "The Fentons are dead."

"I know the Fentons are dead." Talia circled the girl. "One split navel to throat, the other strangled. What. Happened?"

"The Fentons discovered their son was a Meta. Specifically, they thought he had been replaced with the extradimentional species they study." She took a deep breath. "By the time I had discovered their actions, Daniel was... dissected on a table."

Talia closed her eyes. She knew from Yasmin's reports that she'd been acting as the Fenton child's primary caretaker since her adoption and a fondness had developed. "Yasmin-"

"Don't, Mother." She snapped. "Don't act like this is anything less than a tragedy."

"I know-"

"He was a child-"

"Everything's been taken care of," Talia said. "As far as the authorities are concerned, Jasmine Fenton died in that explosion you caused. You need to return now-"

"No!" Yasmin bolted to her feet, glaring at Talia. "He's dead, Mother! An innocent child, the child I raised as my own, is dead because I couldn't protect him! Don't you dare try to sweep this under the rug like... like Danny was something shameful! I'm not leaving! I have to-"

Time Out.

Yasmin shut her mouth mid-sentence, giving Talia time to convince her off her self-destructive path.

"What happened to Daniel is a tragedy, Yasmin. But wallowing in grief and what-ifs only leads to further pain." Talia sighed. "The Fentons and the research you were so fascinated with are gone now. You made sure of that. It's time for you to return home and put that knowledge to use."

Yasmin stared down at her hands. Odd that Talia hadn't noticed, but Yasmin's hands cradled a small, dark blue jewel, polished into a smooth, oblong oval. It glittered under the candlelight, like stars in the sky.

Yasmin swallowed the rock and spoke, refusing to acknowledge what she'd just done. "You are right, Mother. The time of Jasmine Fenton is gone now." She stared straight at Talia, no trace of fear in her gaze. For a moment, Talia wondered where her child had gone. Yasmin never met her eyes unless prompted to when she was growing up. Now she was met with a younger version of herself with cheap dyed-red hair, with the same level of determination that made Talia the Right Hand of the Demon Head. "I will mourn for Danny... on my own time. For now, what is my mission?"

Talia studied her daughter. There was a reason why she'd hidden the girl so far out of the way of her Father and her son. Yasmin was a strong fighter, but had her father's heart, despite her willingness to kill. She'd always reminded Talia of a bodyguard rather than an assassin, but Yasmin wanted to go her own way, wanted to study everything. For years, Talia had indulged her daughter, but now it was time for her to return to the fold.

"For the next month, you will be training to remove any weakness the Fentons may have left in you. After that, you will be guarding an ally for me."

"Which ally?"

"A boy a few years older than you, a son of the Bat." Yasmin didn't react to the mention of her father. Good. "His mind is infirm, but by the time you finish your training, he will be ready to strike a blow against Gotham. You will act as his guard during his training and act as my spy while he's in Gotham. Do you understand?"

For a moment, Yasmin's hand brushed her stomach before she forced her fists to her sides. "Yes, Mother. I will do as you ask."

[toyastales]

Chocolate Brownies

[wyrtig]

[astorythatwritesitself]

yes good day hi I am being COMPLETELY normal don't look at the tags about this Valentine's YCH from @valkblue 😭

[lemonlimestar]

some 2011 flavor timkon bc i’m in bed fighting for my life atm :,-)

[thelibranvixen]

Suleika a.k.a. Sweet Suleika, Summer Bunnies (2010)

[sannam]

in the name of cosmic balance, had to draw the nerd squad to accompany them

[fluentisonus]

another thing this post has had me thinking about, particularly wrt the part about valjean refusing to consider himself different to other criminals/not just being naturally 'good' in comparison to others + the weight that the manner which we choose to depict him as 'good' carries, is how I sometimes see stuff i feel frames his view of & approach to & generosity/kindness with crime & poverty etc. throughout the book as being just a sort of general vague emotion-driven kindliness & sometimes even naivety (??), but I feel like if you really look at the book this is an incredibly considered policy on his part born out of years of thought (& reading) on the matter & a very realistic view of the world. he spends a lot of time seriously grappling with ethics (we see this!) & seriously considering systematic societal issues & so it's a deliberate moral choice with the full weight of experience behind it to consistently believe & act this way. like he's quite a canny guy! he's quick on the uptake & clever & at least in some areas quite worldly! & it does him & the themes of the book a disservice to see this sort of perspective & action on his part as something that must be thoughtless or naive y'know?

[canisalbus]

hi! i've been seeing a lot of people saying they've only met machete after he graduated from being a punchbag, so i thought i'd say a few words.

i've quietly been a fan of your art for a decade now, give or take. i cannot understate how seeing machete going through it was formative to me as an artist. and while i do love the Suffering(tm), i'm also happy your boy could find some relent, some closure, even in another universe.

i'm also glad to see everyone giving you and your creations the love you've always deserved, and you coming out of your shell like this.

thank you for gracing us with your art for all this time. xx

.

[creekfiend]

truly nothing is more American than being like "yay I love the Marvel films yay I love the Captain America films" until the Captain America film has an Israeli superhero character who works with the Israeli military. and then we have to boycott it. but before this it was fine to support films about Captain America, an American superhero character who works with the American military!

our wholesome and universal commercialized nationalism vs their sinister child murdering nationalism!!! lmfao

ive made this unrebloggable but just in case someone gets up in my face I will make this crystal clear: I am not telling you to hate Israel less I am TELLING YOU TO HATE AMERICA MORE

[ghost-bxrd]

Fae dick will break the joker after Ethiopia.

Heck yeah.

Fae? Or any other creature? They’re vindictive. Vindictive to a fault. And loyal. They don’t give away their love easily. Yeah, they can feel fond of things. Even like them. But love? Familial or otherwise? That’s sacred to them. More so to Dick, who already had to suffer losing his family once. So this? Yeah, he’s not having it.

But oh, if you think Joker’s just gonna get killed off then you’re so, so wrong. There are so many other ways, better ways, to make a human suffer. Worse things than death. Worse things than any kind of torture humans could come up with.

Dick makes Joker pay. Every second Jason had to spend with that madman is amplified tenfold, stretched into eternity. Dick traps him in a nightmare he will never wake up from. By the time he’s done with Joker, there won’t be an ounce of that monster left inside that sick little brain. There won’t be anything left of the joker.

By the time Dick allows the creatures to eat Joker alive, the man’s been begging for death for what translate to several centuries to the human mind.

[teddybearsandlightningstorms]

everything in ghost trick is the fault of a judicial system that relies on making cops desperate for approval and distinction even if that means punishing innocents

[elderberries-and-honey]

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏/𝟐

On the first day of Summer, Marmee wrote word that the typewriter was finally finished with its repairs. They had cost a bit more than she had expected but she hoped it would be well worth-it.

As a small token of his appreciation, Lawrence brought over a fresh baked dessert cake, purchased from one of the local bakeries there in town, while Marmee served a lovely chamomile tea to pair together deliciously. 

"Here she is, Mr. Baudelaire." Marmee's oldest, Meg, said as she brought the typewriter into the dining room. "All fixed up and ready for the Missus." As she handed it over, Lawrence's hands began trembling a little.

He'd waited and kept this secret from Winifred for so long that feeling the weight of it in his hands almost didn't seem real. "I don't know what to say," Lawrence sighed. "Thank you doesn't seem enough."

A warm smile sprawled out on Marmee's face. "Just promise March's will be the first bookstore to sell Mrs. Baudelaire's work. That would be thank you enough." She assured him.

Lawrence gave Marmee a tight hug and Meg, who he'd learned had taken up longer hours to also aid in covering the cost of repairs, a gentle kiss on the cheek before departing.

"You March's are made of everything sweet." He chuckled as he pulled away. "Your generosity won't be forgotten."

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