#exr prompt

[shamedumpster]

The Café Around the Corner

I won one of @kjack89's 10 year anniversary giveaway fics, and they wrote the lovely fic linked above! 🥺

So of course I had to make some art for it. Here's to another decade, dude!! Congratulations!!

#les mis #exr #enjoltaire #my-art #enjolras #grantaire #les miserables #thank you again for being so patient with my vague prompt LMAO #it came out great!!

[thelawsofdaylight]

Relationship: Enjolras & Grantaire Wordcount:  3,912 Chapters: 2/2

They’ll later learn it was an act of sabotage. Since their maiden voyage, the Musain and her crew have managed to establish themselves as one of the most prolific rebel groups in the galaxy. Such a feat does not come without making enemies.

That’s later, though.

In the present, Enjolras tries to keep his calm as he watches Grantaire float further and further away from the hull of the shuttle, knowing that the longer he waits to act, the less chance Grantaire has of making it back alive.

___

Or, a Les Amis in space AU wherein a scheduled maintenance check goes horribly wrong and Enjolras becomes Grantaire's only hope of a rescue. Written for @racetrackthehiggins as part of the Discorinthe Anniversary Exchange!

#les mis #les amis #enjolras #grantaire #enjoltaire #exr #my writing #SURPRISE ANOTHER FIC #i hope this goes some way to explaining why roads is taking so long. good reasons i promise!!!! back to it now these are up and done!!!!! #also thank u gabe for planting the idea of space pirates in my mind with your prompt. so so so fun #*banging pots and pans* come get ur hurt/comfort!!!!!! in SPACE!!!!!!!1

[writtenbyme-c]

I have an exr writing prompt for you! Beauty and the Beast but it's reversed from what is expected - E is the Beast, cursed for his pride, and R is the 'beauty' who stumbles drunk into his home.

When you sent this it made my brain go !!!! but then I had to go to sleep, and so the next day was spent with me just staring at my laptop hoping that whatever it was I had thought of would come back. I'm not too sure if it did, but I'm happy with the result.

Short fic (about 2k) under the cut! Will be cross-posted on AO3 at some point in the future probably.

Potential Trigger Warnings: - drunkenness & vague references to alcohol abuse - protest violence - there's deffo some kind of fear of abandonment thing going on

(Please let me know if I've missed any and I'll add them)

Beauty and the Beast

Combeferre had made sure Enjolras knew just how much he had fucked up this time. He hadn’t listened to the others when they said to leave the anti-protest protesters alone, instead he charged head-first into an argument that escalated to the point that Bahorel needed to intervene. Bahorel, who was now in hospital, because one of those assholes had a metal pipe.

              Enjolras had sat, staring at his shoes where they were streaking mud on the hospital waiting-room linoleum, and let himself be berated, torn to shreds, picked apart by his best friend in the entire world, his brother. When Combeferre had finished, with tears streaking over his face, mixing with the blood from the cut on his cheek, he’d pointed to the door and without a word managed to tell Enjolras to get the fuck out.

              So he had. He’d left, like a fucking coward, because he couldn’t face the disappointment of his friends. And now he was back home, in his grey-walled apartment, with nothing to do but worry, stew, and regret every choice that had led him to that moment.

              Enjolras was very aware that he could be a bit prideful sometimes. It used to be something his parents had praised him for; they raised him to take pride in the house, his looks, their money. Then he turned fifteen, Combeferre had moved to town, and he realised just how much his parents – and himself – were privileged assholes. It had taken a while for him to un-learn the way he spoke to people (although Courfeyrac always says he never lost his charm even when the slime slipped away), and how he viewed the world and his possessions. He’d never thought he was better than anyone, but he had been under the impression that his privilege meant people should instantly respect him. It had been a difficult journey, a hard habit to break, but he had broken it. He was better now; compassionate, understanding, helpful.

              Except for when people tried to get in the way of that. Sometimes, even now, eight years after he’d had the epiphany and six since he was disowned, he forgets that he doesn’t have his parents’ money to hide behind, to fall back on. He jumps head-first into fights, both literally and figuratively, and, yeah, part of him still thinks he’s indestructible, untouchable. But when his friends get hurt because of it… well it doesn’t make him feel good; it makes him uncomfortably aware of all the learning and un-learning he still has to do.

              “Ah, fuck.”

              Enjolras whipped his head around at the voice, not having heard the door open while he was brooding.

              “Who’s there?” He asked, standing up from his couch to squint at the person in the doorway; it was too dark to see them clearly, the apartment having darkened around Enjolras since he’d returned home. They were leaning heavily against the doorframe, and Enjolras sighed. “Grantaire. What are you doing here?”

              Grantaire hiccupped. “Came to see our mighty leader, of course.”

              “Why?” Enjolras sat back down on the couch, crossing his arms over his chest then immediately uncrossing them when he realised how juvenile it looked.

              Grantaire flicked the switch and flinched at the light before closing the door behind him and stepping into the apartment. He bumped into the bookshelf again on the way – the same bookshelf that made him hiss the expletive that knocked Enjolras out of his reverie.

              “When did you move your bookshelf?” Grantaire said, flopping down onto the couch beside him and kicking his feet up on the coffee table. His head was at the same level as Enjolras’ shoulder, he was slouching so much.

              Enjolras scoffed. “I didn’t, you just can’t walk in a straight line.”

              “Hm, checks out,” Grantaire said, nodding. He lifted a hand and poked at Enjolras’ thigh. “Why so glum, chum?”

              “Bahorel is in the hospital,” Enjolras said, all too aware of his incredulous tone.

              “Eh, he’s fine.”

              “How can you say that?” Enjolras sat up straighter, voice rising. “How can you be so calm? How could you have gotten drunk when our friend is in need? How could-”

              Grantaire interrupted him by literally putting his hand over Enjolras’ mouth. “You gonna get off that high-horse or do I need to get you a helmet?” Enjolras glared at him but said nothing, so Grantaire let go. “First of all I was drunk before I was told about Bahorel.”

              “Weren’t you at the protest?” Enjolras knew that Grantaire hadn’t been at the protest because he’d spent the first thirty minutes trying to discretely look for him. Although, by the looks Courfeyrac kept sending him, he wasn’t being discrete about it at all.

              “You know I wasn’t, or you wouldn’t have got into a fight,” Grantaire said, and even though it was slurred he did have a very good point. Enjolras could always count on Grantaire to pull him back before things got rough. He just wished he could do the same for the drunk. “Anyway.” Another hiccup. “Baz is fine.”

              “He was unconscious-”

              “Yeah, two hours ago. He’s fine now. They did scans or something. Barely a bruised rib.”

              Enjolras blinked. “Two hours?”

              Grantaire nodded, then yawned. He burrowed into the couch a bit more and folded his arms over his chest. “I’m gonna sleep now.”

              Enjolras lightly smacked his arms until he squinted his eyes open.

              “What?”

              “Bahorel has been awake for two hours? Why didn’t anyone call me?”

              Grantaire sighed heavily. “I tried; it went to voicemail. Feuilly tried as well but I don’t think it got past two rings before Combeferre banned anyone from contacting you.”

              Enjolras paled. “He what?”

              “Said you needed time or something, I don’t know,” Grantaire closed his eyes again as he spoke, his words barely stringing together by the end. Enjolras hit him again. “I’m awake!”

              “Barely. You need water.” Enjolras stood, making his way to the kitchen.

              “What I need is sleep,” Grantaire called after him, but even so, he sat up and turn on the TV.

              Enjolras let his kitchen door swing shut behind him, the gentle woosh of it going back and forth in the doorframe helped to ebb away leftover tension from before. He turned the tap on and leaned against the sink, watching it fill up for a couple of seconds before hitting the switch for the food disposer and getting rid of whatever it was that was blocking the drain. He grabbed a glass off the draining board, triple checked it for water spots, then held it under the stream of water.

              Combeferre had stopped Feuilly from contacting him. It shocked Enjolras, he’d admit. No matter how far things had gone in the past, no matter what consequences his actions had had, Combeferre had never cut off communication with him. He didn’t know what made this time so different – perhaps it was the emotion of the moment, or Ferre was having a bad day, or maybe it was just the final straw.

              He’d been pushing his luck lately and he knew it. Mouthing off to police at protests, calling out politicians on Twitter with too many expletives, taking over tasks that he’d been forced to delegate in the first place. He’d always maintained that he didn’t want to be the leader of Les Amis, that every member was equal, but he struggled to trust people to get things done to the standard he would do it himself. Sure a lot of them were dependable, capable, but others (namely the one currently in his living room), not so much.

              The water started spilling over Enjolras’ hand, so he stopped the tap and poured a little bit out the top. When he returned to the living room, Grantaire was sitting forward on the couch, staring at the TV in awe. Enjolras glanced at the screen, expecting some sort of nature documentary, but it was just on the TV Guide.

              “Are you cross-faded right now?” Enjolras asked, taking every ounce of willpower to hold back a disappointed sigh.

              Grantaire simply grinned at him and took the glass of water. He gulped down about half of it then set the glass on the coffee table. Enjolras sat back down, fingers twisting in his lap.

              “You don’t need to worry,” Grantaire said after a few minutes of him attempting to find something to watch. He turned the TV off and threw the remote onto the coffee table. It slid to a stop right before knocking into the glass.

              “I’m not worrying,” Enjolras said, not looking up from where he was picking at the skin around his nails.

              Grantaire’s hands covered his own. “They still love you.”

              Enjolras blinked at the sudden tears that sprung in his eyes. He glanced up at Grantaire through his lashes then quickly looked back down when he saw bright blue already staring back.

              “Enjolras,” Grantaire spoke quieter, his face closer, but his words no less slurred, his breath no less bitter from the alcohol, “We’d never leave you.”

              Enjolras sniffed. “I don’t understand why. I can be terrible.”

              Grantaire sat back but didn’t let go of his hands. “Yes, you can.” He squeezed tightly. “But you’re also incredible. And you care so much.”

              Enjolras shrugged.

              Grantaire let go and settled back into the sofa again, head close to falling onto Enjolras’ shoulder, arms crossed tightly over his chest as if he was attempting to use them as a blanket. Enjolras looked up slowly, out of the corner of his eye, and when he saw Grantaire’s own eyes closed he let himself look freely.

              He hadn’t let himself think about it any more than in passing. A brief thought at the end of a meeting, when Grantaire would be laughing in the back of the room with Eponine and a glass of wine. A fleeting idea as they walked along the Seine after Jehan’s poetry recital, Courfeyrac and Grantaire repeating the words dramatically, with mirth but also unwavering respect and love. A vague wandering when they bumped into each other at the second-hand bookstore on the other side of the city; literally bumping hands as they reached for the same book, so focused on finding the tome that they hadn’t even noticed the other was there.

              Grantaire wasn’t the most conventionally attractive person, but that had never been a thing Enjolras cared about anyway. Despite his drunkenness and his tendency to be chronically late to everything even remotely important, Grantaire was someone who had caught Enjolras’ eye. Or rather, his mind. His heart. It was so fucking sappy – something he’d always thought himself above, even after his un-conditioning. But Grantaire, in between the slurred rambles and barely-spiteful insults, was so clever, so witty and charming and intelligent. Beautiful. Quite frankly, Enjolras couldn’t figure out why it had taken him so long to realise it, they’d known each other for four years. Sure, they spent two and a half of them in near-constant arguments, and then another year with a tenuous, unsteady friendship, but the last six months had been different.

              Grantaire hadn’t been drinking quite as much – tonight notwithstanding – and they’d actually spent time together just the two of them. Time that felt like it shifted the air between them, made it something charged, full of potential. Enjolras had always been aware, in the back of his mind, that Grantaire had more-than-platonic feelings for him, but for so long he’d disregarded them as nothing more than a silly crush, undue reverence. In the last six months, he’d realised it was something else, something more. It scared him, a little bit.

              Enjolras didn’t really know where they stood – wasn’t even sure he wanted anything more while Grantaire was so unstable – but he couldn’t help how he felt. (He let his eyes trail across the profile of Grantaire’s face; felt his heart flip and land somewhere in his stomach). And he felt a lot.

              “Why are you here Grantaire?” Enjolras whispered, not expecting a response.

              Grantaire kept his eyes closed but gave a crooked smirk, one that looked resigned but hopeful, as if he’d been so used to one way of life that he couldn’t quite believe another was available to him. He reached a hand out blindly but still managed to find Enjolras’.

              “I care too.”

#hope you like it <3 #fanfic #enjolras #grantaire #enjoltaire #les mis #les miserables #les amis de l'abc #exr #prompt fill #fic prompt

[riotstarruika]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables) Characters: Enjolras (Les Misérables), Grantaire (Les Misérables) Additional Tags: Canon Era, Fighting, Kissing, Enjolras's Sexual Awakening, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Consensual Violence Summary:

Enjolras takes a breath, and voices his request in one long, unbroken sentence, before he succeeds in talking himself out of it: "I would like you to spar with me – not practise bâton de combat or savate, but to fight as they do on the streets or in the alleys behind gambling dens; I wish to improve my capabilities in fighting unarmed."

"You'll have to specify which streets; I need to be certain I haven't grasped the wrong end of the stick on this occasion," Grantaire jests, predictably. @lesmissamepromptficchallenge

#les mis #my fic #canon era #same prompt fic challenge 2022 #ExR

[wildrivver]

I wrote a story for the @lesmissamepromptficchallenge. It was my first time taking part and it was a lot of fun.

#same prompt fic challenge 2022 #spfc #les mis #enjoltaire #fanfiction #exr #writing

[mxtxfanatic]

Jiang Yanli: Jiang Cheng’s Bargaining Chip

I feel like I said this before in passing during my first read, so I wanted to go through it more in-depth this second time around. Note that this post will not be covering the validity of xuanli’s marriage or love for each other. I will only be addressing Jiang Cheng’s change of heart surrounding his opinion of Jin Zixuan and why I think this has everything to do with Jiang Cheng’s loss of established power after the fall of Lotus Pier. Bear with me, now, as a lot of these scenes are located all over the place in the book, but with the exception of a few scenes, everything that I will be using will come from exr’s chapt. 69.

The relationship between Jiang Cheng and Jin Zixuan before the Sunshot Campaign is not a good one on account of Jin Zixuan’s treatment of Jiang Yanli:

Neither Wei Wuxian nor Jiang Cheng liked to play with him; only Jiang Yanli wanted to feed him the food that she made. Jin Zixuan, however, didn’t really like to pay her any attention. This made Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng yell with anger in a few instances.

This already-soured blood is what prompts the fight that ends xuanli’s engagement in chapt. 18, in which Jin Zixuan insults Jiang Yanli to Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng’s faces in a crowd of their peers. In this event, both Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng are moved to violence at Jin Zixuan’s words, though Wei Wuxian ensures that Jiang Cheng never throws a punch. And although Jiang Yanli doesn’t make her feelings on the matter clear when Wei Wuxian goes to her to apologize, Wei Wuxian understands later that she “must’ve been feeling quite dejected on the inside” for what transpired. This makes me feel that, even though Jiang Yanli was nice to Jin Zixuan where her brothers (and yes, I am counting wwx as such because Jiang Yanli counts wwx as such) aren’t, neither understood the depth of her feelings until much later.

Up until this point, we have not seen xuanli actually interact with each other; that chance comes when the Sunshot Campaign happens. We can assume with the engagement broken off that Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli do not meet again until the soup incident, which is where Jin Zixuan falsely accuses Jiang Yanli of trying to steal credit from a servant, publicly chastising her after her entire clan has been slaughtered just months prior, causing her to burst into tears despite her “easy temper.” Here, we get the damning critique that Jin Zixuan “had never understood her, and hadn’t ever wanted to understand her either.” We also get the first omission of Jiang Cheng from Jiang Yanli’s defense. Only Wei Wuxian is said to defend Jiang Yanli; Jiang Cheng only shows up in the retelling to pull Wei Wuxian off of Jin Zixuan.

Fast forward to the flower banquet directly after the war ends. Because of the soup incident, Jiang Yanli refused to even give Jin Zixuan “a proper look” before Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian take her back to Yunmeng. But Jin Zixuan, in turn, immediately begins to ask after Jiang Yanli, post-war. There is no mention of whether he ever directly attempts to appeal to Jiang Yanli, herself, but he approaches Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng at his clan’s flower banquet back in capt. 49 with the intention of once more asking after her. Wei Wuxian, understandably, reacts poorly to this:

Wei WuXian heard his own raging shout, “Jin ZiXuan! Don’t you forget about what things you said and what things you did? What do you mean by this, now?!”

To which Jin Zixuan responds:

“Sect Leader Jiang—this is our sect’s flower banquet, and this is your sect’s person! Are you going to look after him or not?!”

Wei Wuxian ends up storming off, but not before Jiang Cheng  chastises him and apologizes to Jin Zixuan for his behavior. He even answers Jin Zixuan’s questions and starts a conversation!

…Jiang Cheng’s voice came, “Wei WuXian, you can just shut your mouth. Young Master Jin, I’m sorry. My sister is doing quite well. Thank you for your concern. We can talk about this next time.”…

…He then began to converse with Jin ZiXuan.

This is a startling departure from his attitude towards Jin Zixuan’s transgressions against his sister in the Cloud Recesses, and while Jin Zixuan is being cordial, the Langya debacle was much more serious than his words during the lessons. Yet Jin Zixuan is the one to demand and be given an apology for being reminded of his past abhorrent behavior, whereas none was demanded (by Jiang Cheng) or seems to have been offered on Jin Zixuan’s end to Jiang Yanli for that same behavior that victimized her, not even to her brothers on her behalf. Plus, Jiang Cheng’s attitude cannot be said to be for Jiang Yanli’s benefit, as we know that she has completely removed herself from anything related to Jin Zixuan since the soup incident, and her feelings remain unchanged up to xuanli’s next in-person interaction at Phoenix Mountain, in which Jiang Yanli does not come of her own will:

Wei WuXian, “Don’t worry. As long as he doesn’t make shijie cry again, I don’t even want to pay him any attention. You shouldn’t have brought her in the first place.”

Jiang Cheng, “The LanlingJin Sect insisted on it. I didn’t have the face to refuse.”

Wei WuXian, “More like Madam Jin insisted on it. After this, she’d definitely find some way to urge shijie and that male princess to one place.”

She even seems uninterested in being there outside of seeing her brothers:

Jiang Yanli usually had an almost bland face, her features mild. However, as she saw her two younger brothers wave at her, her face immediately lit up. She lowered her fan. Shyly saying a few words to Madam Jin, she walked to the edge of the watching platform and tossed out two flowers at them.

vs.

Suddenly, a row of cultivators wearing white, gold-lined robes rushed out, dressed in light armor and riding on broad stallions...

..Madam Jin immediately patted on Jiang Yanli’s shoulder. Holding her hand, she dragged her to the edge of the watching tower again, pointing to her the riding formation of the Lanling Jin Sect.

Clearly, even if Jiang Yanli is still harboring (seemingly) unrequited feelings for Jin Zixuan, she is unwilling to entertain the thought of a relationship anymore. So why, then, would Jiang Cheng suddenly change his opinion of Jin Zixuan from a “peacock” who treats his sister poorly to “my sister loves him, so what can I do but reinstate the engagement?”

I posit that Jiang Cheng’s change is directly tied to the fall of Lotus Pier. With the Jiang massacre, Jiang Cheng is without any real power or allies of his own. The post-war Jin are very obviously amassing power, and the other three great clans are allied via 3zun’s sworn brotherhood. Jiang Cheng has no friends so cannot enter the sworn brotherhood, and his power is held in the hands of Wei Wuxian, who he can neither claim via blood relation nor use as a bartering chip since he isn’t a Jiang. So his only other option to gain an alliance to the other great clans is through Jiang Yanli’s marriage. And what’s an easier route than reinstating the engagement that was already previously an option now that the other party seems willing (and desperate) to forget the past and start anew?

Part of this is also tied up in Jiang Cheng’s own insecurities about his authority as a clan leader, which is provoked from the gossip at the Phoenix Mountain hunt. But when he begins to admonish Wei Wuxian on the behaviors brought up in gossip, he is easily diverted from it by Wei Wuxian’s nonchalance. He then turns the conversation to Jin Zixuan:

Jiang Cheng smirked, “Don’t carry your sword, then. It doesn’t matter. But don’t provoke Jin ZiXuan from now on. He’s Jin GuangShan’s only son, after all. The future leader of the LanlingJin Sect will be him. If you beat him up, what should I, the sect leader, do? Beat him up with you? Or punish you?”

Jiang Cheng is actively trying to court favor with the Jin but cannot do that if Wei Wuxian refuses to show grace to his social “betters”. And Wei Wuxian calls him out on this, particularly as his altercations with Jin Zixuan have all been in defense of Jiang Yanli:

Wei WuXian, “It’s not impossible? Have you forgotten what he did in Langya? You’re telling me that it’s not impossible?”

Jiang Cheng, “He’s probably regretting it.”

Wei WuXian, “Who cares if he regrets it. Do we have to forgive him just because he apologized? Look at what his dad’s like. Maybe he’ll be the goddamn same in the future, killing time searching everywhere for women. Have shijie be with him? You could take it?”

Jiang Cheng’s voice was frozen, “See if he dares!” After a pause, Jiang Cheng glanced at him before he continued, “But, it’s not like you have a say in whether he’s forgiven or not. Sister likes him, so what can we do?”

Jiang Cheng starts by defending Jin Zixuan by assuming that Jin Zixuan feels bad, making no mention whatsoever of any changed behavior of the other man’s that would justify such an assumption. It is only after Wei Wuxian brings up Jin Guangshan’s reputation that he even begins to defend his sister, but, once again, he pauses and pivots in defense of Jin Zixuan, this time by placing the blame on Jiang Yanli’s “feelings” for why they “must” make nice, because he knows that Wei Wuxian isn’t moved by appeals to power or reputation. Nevermind that two months prior, Jiang Yanli had chosen to leave the Phoenix Mountain hunt with Wei Wuxian, and in the scene immediately after the above conversation, Jiang Yanli is reluctant to talk about “why would someone like another person” and deflects to asking Wei Wuxian if he likes someone, instead. Reinstating the engagement is not Jiang Yanli’s present will, which only leaves Jiang Cheng’s will to consider.

Jiang Cheng’s priority when it comes to Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan’s relationship is not his sister’s feelings or well-being but ensuring that he can ally his recently demolished clan to the new leaders of the cultivation world where he has been locked out by every other avenue. And he is willing to overlook every red flag Jin Zixuan displays towards Jiang Yanli in order for this engagement to go through.

#human reads mdzs: take 2 #human metas mxtx

[alessandriana]

I'm curious about the scar removal actually

So that one was prompted by an exchange I had on twitter. Tl,dr, the EXR translation made it sound like it was Jiang Cheng who was desperate to get rid of the scars: Although Wei WuXian had never been hit by a discipline whip before, Jiang Cheng had been. Even after desperately trying, he couldn’t make the disgracing imprint fade one bit. This was why Wei WuXian would never misremember scars like this. (CH 11)

But the "he" in that sentence is quite ambiguous! Is it referring to Jiang Cheng... or to Wei Wuxian?

When the official translation came out, it seemed to support the latter interpretation:

While Wei Wuxian had never experienced this particular lashing himself, Jiang Cheng had. Wei Wuxian had wracked his brain to help him lighten that humiliating mark, but all efforts had been fruitless. Wei Wuxian would never mistake the sight of such a scar.

Later in the book, we get the flashback to Jiang Cheng waking up in the Wen supervisory office:

Finally, Jiang Cheng propped himself up on his elbows. He looked down at the wound from the discipline whip on his chest and let out a bitter laugh.

When the discipline whip struck, there was no removing the mark of shame. Against his own conscience, Wei Wuxian said, "Don't look. We'll find a way to get rid of it." (CH 60, official trans- EXR doesn't differ significantly)

From these, it honestly seems like Wei Wuxian is much more invested in getting rid of those scars than Jiang Cheng!

-

...All this to say, I found myself really wanting the story where WWX insists on helping JC get rid of those scars (whether JC wants help or not) and there's lots of chest touching and WWX has to sit on top of JC for some reason, and it's very sexy and they end up banging about it: The End.

And now a snippet, for those of you who've made it this far (NSFW under the cut):

The weeks passed, and battles were fought, and some were won and some were lost-- and some were a mix of the two.

It was after one of these latter that Jiang Cheng found Wei Wuxian setting his brushes and talismans up in his bedroom again.

They'd been loaned the use of a manor house by a sympathizer. It had been partially razed by the Wen, but there were still several buildings in good condition. Jiang Cheng had taken one of the rooms to the west-- it didn't have a bed anymore, but he'd set up his camp bed and it had been more than acceptable. It did have a low table, and that was where Wei Wuxian had lined up his things.

Jiang Cheng blinked at Wei Wuxian, startled. He'd almost forgotten about the last time-- consigned it to his list of embarrassing moments involving Wei Wuxian, of which there were many, and moved on. He'd assumed Wei Wuxian had done the same, and had given up this idea of his of getting rid of Jiang Cheng's scars.

"Jiang Cheng!" Wei Wuxian called, as Jiang Cheng entered. "Good, you're back-- what took you so long? The battle's been over for hours."

"It's been over for hours for you, maybe," Jiang Cheng said. Wei Wuxian was the reason the fight today had been a mixed win instead of a pure loss. He'd come through in the end with a mountain of corpses he'd dug up from a nearby graveyard, and with their help the Sunshot campaign had been able to beat back the Wen attack, giving them some breathing room while they recuperated. "Some of us had to help with the cleanup."

Wei Wuxian lounged on the floor as Jiang Cheng crossed over to the screen in the corner and began to disrobe. His outer garments were covered in blood and grime-- thankfully none of it his or his disciples'. "You weren't injured out there, right?"

Jiang Cheng could hear Wei Wuxian flopping around. "What, me? Hah! Those Wen couldn't get within fifty feet of me."

"Good," Jiang Cheng said, too tired to address the boasting. He'd personally seen a Wen soldier nearly take Wei Wuxian's head off just two days ago.

Jiang Cheng stripped down to his pants. There was a washbasin here, too, which had been filled fresh with water; maybe one of his disciples. He rinsed off with the cloth laid next to it. With each swipe of the cloth, some of his exhaustion disappeared, too.

When he came out he was in a better frame of mind to deal with the line of talismans, ink, and other supplies on the table. He said with heavy skepticism, "You really want to try this again?"

For a moment Jiang Cheng thought he saw a strange look in Wei Wuxian's eyes, a mix of trepidation and excitement; a strange energy. The look vanished so quickly Jiang Cheng wasn't even sure he'd seen it, replaced by something more mischievous. He grinned up at Jiang Cheng and said, "Yeah! I'm pretty sure I've got the right idea this time."

Jiang Cheng sighed. "If you say so," he grumbled, heading towards the bed and flopping down on his back. "But if you're just doing this to fuck with me--"

Wei Wuxian cackled, gathering up his supplies. "Nope! Not fucking with you," he said, dragging the table over to Jiang Cheng's side so it would be in easy reach. Jiang Cheng expected he would try leaning over this time, to avoid the previous problem.

Wei Wuxian finished setting up his stuff, and then-- swung his legs over Jiang Cheng's waist again.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Jiang Cheng squawked, bucking upwards. But Wei Wuxian had come prepared for this gambit, and he hooked his ankles under the edge of the bed and hung on as Jiang Cheng tried to escape. Finally Jiang Cheng had to admit defeat. He lay back on the bed with Wei Wuxian above him, heart pounding more than it really should have been.

Wei Wuxian said innocently, "I told you, didn't I? This is a much better position for writing the spells out."

"Surely there's some better way you can come up with--"

Wei Wuxian shrugged. "Simple's always best." Grinning a little to himself, he leaned forward and began to write.

The brush tickled cool across his skin. Wei Wuxian braced himself with a hand on Jiang Cheng's pec to keep himself steady. He kept shifting and squirming on top of Jiang Cheng as he wrote, tiny little motions that echoed throughout Jiang Cheng's entire body. The result was entirely predictable. Jiang Cheng felt his cock begin to thicken and swell.

Finally he said, strangled, "Enough."

Wei Wuxian's eyes were fixed on Jiang Cheng's stomach as he wrote. "But I'm not done yet." Then he pulled back his brush to examine his work, hummed, and said, "Okay, I need more room."

Then he shifted backwards until he was sitting directly on top of Jiang Cheng's dick.

Jiang Cheng's hands flew up to Wei Wuxian's hips. "What the fuck!" His heart was hammering in his chest. He was going to throw up. He was so turned on he could hardly breathe.

Wei Wuxian didn't look up. "There," he said, and put the finishing touch on the spell, and then suddenly there was power flowing through the spellwork and also somehow it was coming from Jiang Cheng's dick, or at least that's what it felt like, and then--

--then the ink burst into flames.

This killed both the pending discussion and Jiang Cheng's boner as they endeavored to put it out.

Afterwards, they didn't talk about it.

#mdzs #chengxian #memery #ask meme #jiang cheng

[kjack89]

Hii I love your writting! do you by any chance take fic prompts? if you don't, please ignore this, but if you do, would you consider exr meet by chance at a coffee shop where E is studying and R is waiting for a date, they meet eyes and flirt a bit but then R's date arrives and it ends up being a friend in common. Cue pining and flirting and pining some more bc R's date didn't go well but E doesn't want to mess with his friend's potential relationships. All good if you're not up for writing it, at least I got to share this cute idea with someone!!

I’m really not taking prompts at the moment because I still have 7 giveaway fics to write, but this ask made me think about which of Enjolras’s friends Grantaire could possibly be on a date with, and, well…

Date is a generous word, for one.

It’s what Grantaire tells Enjolras, of course, because even though he should be lying and saying that he is 100% open and available, he somehow can’t bring himself to fully lie to the beautiful stranger so blurts out a semblance of truth: “Oh, I’m waiting on a date.”

Dinner preceding hookup as facilitated by Grindr is more accurate, if more crass, and honestly Grantaire should’ve just said that because then the hot guy would be thinking about him naked and in Grantaire’s experience, there’s very little downside to that.

But he doesn’t say that, just like he doesn’t see a brief flash of disappoint cross the guy’s face at the news. But as a casual hello to a hot stranger stretches into a full-on conversation, he would have to be blind to miss the look on the blond’s face when Grantaire finally asks him, “What’s your name, by the way?” at the exact moment someone entering the coffee shop shouts, “Enjolras?”

Of course it’s Grantaire’s date, and apparently a friend of Enjolras’s to boot, and all too soon Enjolras is waving them off with a forced, “Enjoy your date!” and Grantaire is wondering how soon into said date would it be rude to ask this guy to ignore the (solicited! And reciprocated!) dick pic so that he can go back to find Enjolras again.

But for maybe the first time in Grantaire’s life, luck is on his side, because this is the Worst period Date period Ever. The guy is rude, and boorish, openly flirts with their waitress, takes a phone call at their table five minutes into the date, and then tells Grantaire, in graphic detail, about his most recent “conquest”.

Grantaire has never chugged a beer so quickly in his entire life, which given, y’know, everything about him, is saying something.

“It’s been, uh, real,” he says, grabbing his jacket. “See you, uh…yeah. See you.”

Not even an hour after he left, he’s back at the café, giving Enjolras a sheepish grin. “Back so soon?” Enjolras asks, surprised.

Grantaire just shrugs. “Didn’t work out,” he says, before throwing caution to the wind and adding, “But I thought this might.”

Outside the café, Courfeyrac leans his head against Combeferre’s shoulder. “Thanks for calling when I texted you saying I needed an interruption,” he says.

“No problem,” Combeferre says, glancing down at him. “Are you going to explain?”

“Dark-haired guy in there with Enjolras was my date tonight,” Courfeyrac tells him.

“Ah.”

Courfeyrac nods. “Yeah. Took one look at the way Enjolras was looking at him and, well, knew I needed to get that date over with. And it’s not easy, you know.”

“What’s not easy?” Combeferre asks, amused.

“Making a date with me bad,” Courfeyrac says, like it’s obvious. “I am a goddamned delight and anyone would be lucky to have me, and it takes a lot to overcome that.”

Combeferre rolls his eyes fondly. “I’m sure it does,” he says patiently. “And whatever else you are, you’re a good friend. Now c’mon. Let’s let Enjolras have his date.”

“You mean my date,” Courfeyrac grumbles.

“Sure. Let’s let Enjolras have your date.”

#exr #enjolras x grantaire #enjoltaire #enjolras #grantaire #courfeyrac #Combeferre #ask #answered #hey nonny #fanfiction #modern au #long post for ts #drabble #ficlet #and thank you Nonny!!! #I appreciate it ❤️

[jesuisserieux]

Prompt 1: Costumes

This is my first fic for the Hoes for Enjolras server's Halloween bingo! It's very soft and silly, just exr being idiots in love but with a Halloween background. I hope people enjoy! You can read it here, or here on ao3. Let me know if you liked it!

Get the Horns

“I look like a goat,” says Enjolras.

“But a very cute goat! Make all the boy goats go WAAAAA!” A silence. Courfeyrac looks between him and Combeferre. “The Princess Diaries 2? Nobody? Okay then.”

“To be honest, I just thought you’d finally lost it,” says Ferre.

“Oh honey, that was years ago.”

Enjolras snorts, “Are you sure this looks right? Like, you’re the fashion expert, but I really do feel like people will think I’m a goat.”

“You’re wearing red,” says Combeferre. “I feel like everyone knows red and horns equals devil.”

Enjolras frowns, “I guess.”

“You don’t have to be a devil,” says Courf, “I just thought it’d be cute if we were matching. Or, not matching. You know what I mean.” He motions to his angel costume.

“Yeah but you have a sparkly halo. No one is going to be confused about your costume. Plus, won’t it be weird if we’re matching and Ferre is just… Luke Skywalker?”

“That was his choice,” says Courf, “I told him he could be an angel with me.”

“That would be weird,” says Ferre, “One devil, two angels? Makes no sense. Plus, I promised Musichetta I would do the Skywalkers twins with her like, nine months ago.”

“I guess until we meet up with everyone we can just say we’re the devil and the angel on your shoulders.”

“The Jedi and the Sith,” suggests Enjolras.

Ferre and Courf say “Nerd,” in perfect unison, even though this is obviously hypocrisy of the highest order.

He scoffs, “Whatever, are we ready to go now?”

“Oh so now you want to go to the party?” teases Courf. “I wonder what changed…”

“I still don’t want to go to the party. But you talked me into it, so I’m at least going to be on time.”

“It’s not because R said he could come after all?” Ferre raises a skeptical eyebrow.

Enjolras shoots him a betrayed look. “I already agreed to go before he said that.”

“Yeah but you weren’t nearly as eager, before.”

“Your face is the same color as your costume,” says Courf, looking at him in the mirror as he applies mascara.

“Are we going or not?” Enjolras pretends to be looking at something on his phone, to hide his face.

Courf snorts, “Nice subject change. Subtle. But sure, I’m done with my makeup, let’s head out.” He straightens up, and in his heels, he’s face level with Enjolras.

“It’s weird to see you at this angle,” he says.

“Oh fuck off,” says Courf lightheartedly.

“You’re both still short to me,” says Combeferre.

Enjolras protests, “You’re like, three inches taller than me.”

“Four.”

“Oh my god.”

“Okay!” interjects Courf, “let’s go.”

~

The party, when they get there, is in full swing. It’s not the loudest party ever- Enjolras and Combeferre wouldn’t have come if it was- but the bass is still loud enough, that they have to get close to yelling to be heard. Enjolras isn’t actually sure whose house this is. Presumably, somebody Courf knows, but that doesn’t narrow it down a lot. Whoever it was, they went all out on decorations. There are fake spider webs and skeletons everywhere, and everything is bathed in slime green light.

Courf gets them each a cup of punch from a bowl that looks like a cauldron. He takes a sip from his own cup and winces. “Don’t drink that fast, it’s sweet but it’s strong as fuck.”

Enjolras really hadn’t been planning on getting drunk in the first place, so he just nods and takes a sip. Goddamn. Courf wasn’t kidding. “What the fuck is in this?”

“What isn’t?” says someone from behind him. He turns around to see Grantaire, only a few inches away from him and looking way too hot, despite being dressed as-

“What are you?” he asks, taking in the fishnets, the makeup, the lampshade under one arm-”

“Oh!” R takes the lampshade and perches it on top of his head, “I’m a sexy lamp.”

The unfortunate thing is that any costume Grantaire wears would be sexy in Enjolras’s opinion. Including a fucking lamp.

“You’re something all right,” says Combeferre, saving Enjolras the embarrassment of saying any of that out loud.

“What the fuck are you supposed to be?” asks R. I can tell with these two but how does yours connect?”

“It doesn’t. I’m Luke Skywalker. Musichetta is Leia.”

“We would have included him,” says Courf, “but apparently he and Chetta planned this months ago. So now we just look like we’re excluding him.” Ferre scoffs. “We do! Everyone is going to think we’re terrible best friends, and we left you out of our Halloween costume.”

“I don’t think anyone here is sober enough to think that,” says R.

Enjolras searches his brain frantically for something clever to say in response, but he comes up empty, still too preoccupied by Grantaire, and more specifically, Grantaire’s legs in fishnets.

“You good Apollo?” asks R, “I didn’t think the punch was that strong.”

Enjolras blinks. He’s just been staring into space. This is why he doesn’t go out. “Sorry! I’m good. Just… spaced out.”

“Can’t take you anywhere,” says Courf affectionately. He ruffles Enjolras’s hair, and Enjolras smacks his hand away. He looks to Ferre for support but he’s already making his way across the room to Musichetta, who’s brandishing a lightsaber.

“You fucked up his horns,” R says Courfeyrac. He reaches out to fix them, his hands rearranging Enjolras’s hair.

“I’ll see you guys later,” says Courf, not even pretending to have an excuse for leaving. Enjolras can’t even say anything as he leaves, because his brain is devoid of words on account of R touching him.

“There,” says R, tucking some hair behind his ear, “all good.”

“Thanks.” His mouth is so dry.

“So did Courf choose the costume?”

“Uh… yes! Yeah. I think I look like a goat.” He tries not to outwardly wince listening to himself.

Luckily, Grantaire seems to find it funny, thank god. He laughs loudly and gives Enjolras a skeptical onceover. “Why on earth would anyone think you were a goat, Apollo?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know. Horns.” He can feel his face heat up. “I’m not wearing red face paint.”

“Even so, why would they assume ‘goat’ instead of ‘devil’ for a Halloween costume?”

“Well when you put it like that it sounds stupid…”

R laughs again. “You’re such a weirdo.” It’s said so affectionately, Enjolras can’t meet his eyes.

“You’re the one dressed as a sexy lamp,” he mumbles in the direction of his shoes.

“Touche,” says R. There’s an awkward silence. Enjolras takes another sip of his incredibly strong punch for lack of anything better to do. “You wince every time you take a sip of that,” notes R.

“It tastes like windex mixed with juice.”

“You’re probably not that far off. Here,” R takes the cup from him and sets it down. “They have ciders in the fridge, that seems more your speed.” Absentmindedly, R grabs his wrist to pull him through the crowd of people. Enjolras is going to combust.

The kitchen is brighter and quieter thank god, although the light means Grantaire can see how red his face is.

“You okay?” he asks, as he hands Enjolras some rose cider drink from the fridge.

“Huh? Yeah good.” Grantaire smirks. The bottle feels good on his warm face.

“You sure you’re not drunk already?” asks R.

“From two sips of punch? Even I’m not that much of a lightweight.”

“No?” R puts a hand to his face, “You’re really warm.” He can probably feel Enjolras’s heartbeat in his fucking forehead with how fast it’s going. He looks down, hoping R won’t see the flush creeping up his ears. Being this pale is a curse. “Apollo?” R taps his cheek and he looks up reflexively. He’s so close.

“I’m fine! Just- nervous.” He wants to melt into the kitchen floor. Why would he say that! Literally anything else would be better, now R’s going to ask why he’s nervous and he’s not going to have a good answer besides it’s really hard not to stare at your mouth right now.

“Nervous?”

“Yeah. I mean you- this- uh, just isn’t my scene. Parties. You know?” Oh god he needs to find a way out of this conversation before he keeps talking.

“Do I make you nervous, Apollo?” asks R in a tone that seems half joking half- flirtatious? That’s probably wishful thinking on his part.

“Uh-” he opens his mouth but only a few nonsense syllables come out. He shuts it again, tries desperately to think of something cool and funny to say. It’s taking too long. Oh god it’s taking too long why can’t he say something?”

“It’s okay,” says R, “you’re cute when you’re flustered.” Hang on what? “Plus, people will definitely know what your costume is.” He pats Enjolras’s burning cheek. “You don’t even need red face paint.” He looks far too proud of that little quip as he slips back out of the kitchen. Enjolras doesn’t even attempt to say anything. It’s just static up there anyway. Courf was right earlier, his face does, in fact, match his costume.

#enjoltaire #enjolras #grantaire #les amis #les mis #exr #courfeyrac #combeferre #my writing #halloween bingo 2023 #hoes for halloween bingo challenge 2023 #fluff #idiots in love #my wriitng

[lansplaining]

golden core anon again! I haven't gotten the 7s translation yet, but in the ExR translation JC "retracted the whip, but it was already too late" and (a few paragraphs later) the hit actually landed on WN, leaving a scorch mark. I don't which is more accurate, but I've always had the impression that it wasn't really obvious for WN that JC was trying to stop the fight! I'm also 90% sure that WN wasn't lurking nearby to watch the whole exchange, so he's probably working with a lot of incomplete information here (in a lot of ways lol). as for why he immediately decided to deal emotional damage, instead of restraining JC or just punching him in the face (which would've probably made more sense to everyone and also might've made JC's day somewhat better in the end)… my personal interpretation is that WN was already pretty mad at the whole golden core thing? he initially respected WWX's desire to sacrifice the golden core for his brother, went along with his plan so that JC wouldn't suspect anything, watched WWX suffer during the surgery, then watched him destroy himself in the Burial Mounds without a core… and then realized that the guy who prompted so much self-sacrifice is… maybe kind of a dick actually? who has been treating WWX with nothing but anger and resentment whenever WN was present to see it? and now he's actually attacking him? "yeah no, fuck you, no blissful ignorance for you anymore, you should know exactly how much he has done for you and maybe then you'll leave him alone". (don't get me wrong, I agree that WN wasn't exactly fair to JC during the reveal, especially if you know that JC had sacrificed his core for WWX first, but I kinda get where he's coming from emotionally)

The Seven Seas has what I quoted, and yes, Wen Ning does intercept the blow that was going to hit Wangji. I don't speak Chinese and definitely can't get into the business of comparing translations, I'm very specifically talking about the experience of reading this translation and taking it as a story/narrative experience on its own.

I'm not saying that Wen Ning doesn't have personal reasons for revealing the golden core (though imo his emotional state as described both before and after is... weird, but that's part for the course with the unreliability of the narrator re: Wen Ning specifically), and I'm not saying the scene makes no sense. I'm literally just saying it's interesting that as a writer, MXTX chose to make the golden core reveal not actually the climax of a deadly conflict, or the only possible thing that could have stopped Jiang Cheng in his tracks, or even in response to Jiang Cheng actually doing something truly egregious-- it's yet another misunderstanding and disproportionate response to a situation someone bursts into without understanding.

(There's also the irony that right after this, Wen Ning thanks/implicitly forgives Lan Wangji because he spoke up for Wen Ning and Wen Qing before they were executed... but Jiang Cheng also spoke up for them-- to say nothing of facilitating the entire Burial Mounds grace period by arranging the fake fight-- Wen Ning just wasn't there, and it (also) didn't work.)

#ask answered #wen ning may be emotionally justified but that doesn't make him factually correct lol #i think the stuff he says about jiang cheng being competitive #while obviously just a deliberately mean parting shot #is not accurate just because everything else he says is! but the whole speech so often gets taken as gospel because it's wen ning and he's #he's angy

[shamedumpster]

I want to draw this weekend, so if anyone has any exr prompts feel free to send them my way :)

#I can't promise I'll draw them #but my brain is currently feeling a lot like the burbling of a slowly-draining-nearly-empty sink #so #it couldn't hurt! #text post

[shitpostingfromthebarricade]

Hey hey, i have a prompt, please and thank you, if u're open for those right now. Okay here it goes: ExR (or whatever that parts actually secondary) with E being a politician and R being a reporter for a political satire-show. In the German Bundestag (if you're comfortable with that). It's just ... it's a vibe .. like a heute-show reporter crushing on a little too witty politician like. (In crack-format). I think i need that. I would really appreciate it but also understand if you don't have the time or think this is not up your lane. Hope you have a great autum time. Happy thanksgiving or whatever americans are celebrating this time of year (you're american right?). Toodles

After having read @thelibrarina 's absolutely perfect fanon version of this prompt several years ago, I don't know that I have anything I can add to it. Canon characterizations get a bit rougher because I simply do not believe that Enjolras would be satisfied working within a government he is trying to overthrow.

Hahahah, I am American, but I've only lived there one year since 2016. Happy late Samhain/early Yule! Enjoy the harvest festival, all who celebrate!

#answers and shitposts #I do think canon grantaire could fit really well with this idea though #like he has a team holding his life together and is truly basking in the hypocrisy of his position #and he has biting criticism of everything and everyone regardless of intent (South Park style where he just critici #*criticizes anyone who wants any sort of change and is cringe enough to care) #except when it's Enjolras #I see him maybe making a point just to not cover him specifically #or if Enjolras ever appears as a guest just turning to absolute putty and yes-manning everything Enjolras says with stars in his eyes #but idk I haven't really thought of ExR since An Age Without Heroes was finished #les mis #les amis #exr #enjoltaire #granjolras

[grewlikefancyflowers]

Hi, i absolutely love your metas on mdzs. So as someone who trusts your interpretation of mdzs text. I wanted to know about this particular part of MXTX Interview on mdzs. While i do know the fact that wwx's loss of control is realted to his mental health. But what can we infer from MXTX's answer for that part??

Thank you, it really makes me happy when people say they like my metas 🥰

So, I'm assuming this question is in relation to the interpretation that JZX's death and WWX's loss of control can be attributed to his mental state (and not guidao), and therefore (along with JZX actually being the one to attack first) WWX can't be considered entirely responsible for it. This is not exactly an opinion that I have—I do not believe WWX's cultivation is completely harmless.

To discuss this I think it would be helpful to first look at another translation by Gggg_Zhan of this interview excerpt, and also consider the context of MXTX's answer.

When MXTX says he in the one responsible for the death of JZX, it is specifically in relation to the interviewer asking if there was someone else behind it (such as CQL's second flautist), so when she says he is responsible, I do not think she is denying that there are mitigating factors (mental state/guidao, self defense), she is just specifically saying that that was no other person involved.

As well as that, it is pretty clear from Zhan's translation of this interview that MXTX outright said WWX's mental state did play a role in his loss of control, as well as his long-term use of guidao.

And actually, even back during the SSC, WWX was aware his cultivation was having some effect on him, this was in fact why he decided to forge the yin hufu.

'When Wei Wuxian first forged it, he didn’t deliberate too much over it. As he had to use his very own life essence [6] to control zombies and evil spirits, there were times where he was bound to feel tired.' (ch.30, tmwx)

Tangent about 'life essence' — the footnote tmwx gave for this is: '[6] 元神 (yuán shén) – Can be translated as “life essence” or “primordial spirit”. In Taoism, it is defined as a level of existence that can be cultivated, surpassing that of physical existence, capable of existing independently in the form of a soul.' Back when I first read this, I was curious about how WWX's cultivation worked and what exactly this meant in the context of MDZS, so I searched for instances of 元神 in the chinese version. In many instances it was translated to soul (for example MXY's 元神 was destroyed in the ritual), in ch.64 it is mentioned that the songs in the collection of turmoil will disturb one's 元神.

他心中高興，拍的這一下險些震倒了書案上的紙燈，藍忘機眼疾手快地將它扶了起來。魏無羨道：「藍宗主，這本《亂魄抄》裡面，有沒有一支曲子，能擾人心神、使人元神激蕩、氣血翻騰、暴躁易怒之類的？」 exr's translation: Wei WuXian spoke, “Sect Leader Lan, within the The Collection of Turmoil, is there any that can disturb a person’s composure, making them irritated, agitated, violent, easily-angered?” 7S translation: Sect Leader Lan, is there a song in the Collection of Spirit Turmoil that can disturb someone's mind, agitate their primordial spirit, unsettle their vital energy, and make them easily prone to anger? So I think when it says WWX's use of his life essence/soul/元神 to control corpses made him tired, it is maybe not as simple as just feeling tired, but rather more of a spiritual or mental fatigue. Additionally, in the original draft of MDZS, WWX told LWJ and JC in the supervisory office that he uses his 元神 to control corpses, this seems to confirm to LWJ that WWX's cultivation is harmful and prompts him to inquire a few times specifically about his temperament which was also removed in the edits.

It's also clear from the Nightless city battle that WWX's control over his corpses is tied to his control over his emotions

The more Wei WuXian panicked, the less control he had. [...] He took up Chenqing, placed it by his lips, and began to play. He only managed to steady his mind with great effort. This time, the corpses finally stopped ignoring his commands.

In chapter 7 we are told WWX's cultivation is harmful: 'Wei Wuxian’s method of cultivation might have been denounced by the rest of the cultivation world, and would also affect the practitioner’s constitution in the long run. However, one could achieve results quickly, as this form of cultivation was not restricted by spiritual powers or innate talent.' (tmwx)

When looking at all of these things together, we can make some assumptions about exactly why WWX's cultivation is harmful.

As we know, WWX can only use corpses that are already resentful. In order to control them he must control their resentment, stir it up, direct, and calm it as he requires. Since WWX's control of them is tied to his control over his own emotions, it would require constant mental and emotional effort — this is part of the reason why not just anyone can control corpses like WWX does, WWX is extremely skilled at rationalising, suppressing or letting go of his feelings, so I believe he applies that to his cultivation too.

However, 'though Wei Wuxian thought that his heart was like a stone, in the end, he was still human, not some emotionless grass or plant.'

What human could keep up such strenuous control over themselves forever? Who could take on the resentful energy of others and manage it every day without it wearing down on their mental state? We see WWX become more short-tempered, sometimes cold, sometimes angry after he starts using guidao, until it culminates in him losing losing control entirely. I think WWX's mental state and WWX's cultivation are far too intertwined to draw any sort of line between them, the two are compounding.

So it seems WWX's cultivation can harm his mind. I think we should also consider if resentful energy can harm him more directly. There is canonical evidence it can, such as how the strong resentment of NMJ's arm caused all the (high-level) Lan cultivators to qi deviate to the point of passing out. WWX seems wholly unaffected by it, probably he is more than used to it, after being around such energy day after day for many years of his life. But is he immune to it? Probably not.

Now onto the morality of this — is WWX's cultivation wrong because it can be harmful? No. I find this idea very silly. Should sports, such as figure skating, be considered morally wrong because of risk of harm? Obviously not. As well as that, regular cultivation in MDZS carries a risk of harm too — cultivators can die from qi deviation, its not even considered that unusual.

So, could WWX's cultivation be considered wrong because there is a risk of losing control, and therefore harming others? Also no... but within reason.

WWX had never lost control over his cultivation before, so I don't think it is fair to say he should have seen it coming or consider his loss of control a moral failing on his part. It was an accident that he couldn't have predicted. Post-canon, he's in a very different position to his first life, he no longer needs to use guidao constantly every day (remember that it is only over the long-term that it can be harmful). Mentally & emotionally he is in a much better state and is definitely not at risk of losing control over himself as he had before. Plus, now that he has LWJ by his side, he will definitely always be okay no matter what.

#mdzs #mdzs meta #many tangents here but i hope it answered your question anyway #wei wuxian #like.. we can think of guidao as a tool or weapon that can be wielded properly or improperly for good or bad. the same as any other #if someone is not very skilled & frequently loses control & puts people at risk then yeah i'd say that's condemnable #but that's not what is happening with wwx...

[koheletgirl]

Shira I need you to know two things:

We are singing cool about it by boygenius in my school a capella group. I sadly never have the melody (soprano problems 😔) but I thought I’d tell you because I listened to more boygenius music recently and it prompted this thought:

Afraid of heights is exr if r was in like. A bit more denial. Maybe a lot more. Just had to think about that with my friends

1. omg that's so cool!!!! ugh such a beautiful beautiful song. sorry about your soprano problems :( i wish i could sing julien's parts in any song though so i am kinda jealous (mezzo problems)

2. one thing about me is the rest came out on one of the worst weeks of my life, and since life hasn't gotten better since i sorta. refuse to listen to it? i need to have good memories associated with it and i'm not making any so. yeah one thing about me is i still haven't listened to the rest. but when i do i promise to come talk to you about it

#ask #soph tag

[stlispenard]

24(601) for exr

(24)60(1): leonard cohen by boygenius

     the fingers on the back of his neck are stinging and cold but they are not unwelcome. r. entirely blames himself for not remembering to bring gloves for either of them when he could easily have predicted this. he’d cuss or be dramatic about it, but he thinks it might lead into some sermon on shared responsibility (whatever) or his famed negligence of self (they have the time for it). instead the contact between his skin and e.’s makes him puff out air in the same way someone would if they had been trying to hold their breath; like the friction prompts the release. you have no idea, do you, mathieu? his own fingers stiffly tab against the steering wheel before he latches to it more firmly. repressing any other impulse while e. continues to talk exactly like he had before; peering straight ahead or out the window (and occasionally at him) like nothing in the air just shifted and like he’s not touching him. everything, from e. candidly explaining his bourgeoisie relatives to him (preemptive warnings, precautionary tales) to the fucking hand on him, feels fishy to him.  

     it takes r. a while to finally snap, impetuously cutting him off, “remind me why i agreed to drive you when it’s a million minus-degrees outside? and, while you’re at it, why are we going to see the family you despise exactly? you’re freezing in a car, stuck with me, and for what?” he’s rarely quiet and especially if he’s bursting with questions. he can’t help that this how he reacts (especially when he’s also miserable and cold and stupidly aroused, too), “i know you don’t want to be telling me all of this. not really. and besides, i think you might like me if less if i know you so well.” its too much of a gamble; trading in his tiny sliver of something (which may as well be nothing but a temporary need for somewhere to warm him hands) for the unlikely chance of gaining some or the more likely chance losing everything.

     i never thought you’d happen to me.

spotify wrapped / @andthe6 exr

#i don't even know that this makes any sense but hi hello #wintery vibes i guess #also i didn't cheat - ish just chose 60 over 24 yolo #answered: r. #askbox. #andthe6

[thelawsofdaylight]

Ten first lines game

I was tagged by both @pumpkinspice-prouvaire and @aromantic-enjolras to do this ask game a while ago but am just now getting around to it! It's made me realise how much I actually published this year which is a not insignificant amount, so thanks for the tag, this was fun!

Rules: Share the first line of ten of your most recent fanfics and then tag ten people. Don't have ten? Not to worry, just share what you have.

kisses of fire (bruning, burning), the exr smut fic that i published literally about an hour ago, it doesn't really have much of a plot it's just smut:

The first obstacle comes in the form of a heavy, iron-clad gate that's so rusted Grantaire always finds himself surprised it hasn't crumbled to dust.

obstacles, the modernised retelling of jean valjean's journey to arras, it's very silly but also required a ridiculous amount of research:

If a person were to walk down the Rue Saint-Gengoult in the early hours of the morning, they would find it quiet and empty, as often happens before a town has commenced its business for the day.

the art of translation, written for the drinkwithme platonic exchange, about feuilly and jehan's friendhsip:

“-and anyway,” Feuilly is explaining to Enjolras and Combeferre, “we scarcely have time to organise it before we meet with the medical students.”

a new day dawning, the ghost!triumvirate fic i wrote for the discorinthe exchange:

Anabelle Pontmercy dies on a Thursday afternoon, twenty three years and three months into the twenty first century.

until the stars burn out, another discorinthe exchange piece about space pirates enjolras and grantaire sharing a traumatic experience:

They’ll later learn it was an act of sabotage.

these roads were made for me and you, this is the first line of the car share au!!!!!! my in-progress fic that i just updated!!!

Fate has always been a cruel mistress to Grantaire, and today is no exception.

strikin' around the christmas tree, my holiday exchange piece, a silly political take on a classic hallmark fic:

The day is cold, the ground sparkling with newly formed ice.

the art of merriment, my bahorel and enjolras friendhsip piece for last year's drink with me platonic exchange:

The first time Bahorel sees Enjolras fight is during an ambush.

we know what it's like to be reckless, another discorinthe exchange piece about jehan and grantaire and some late night graffiti:

Jehan has always loved the sound of spray paint.

under the eyes of the revolution, a same prompt fic challenge fill that focuses on enjolras and feuilly after the execution of le cabuc:

Enjolras sat upon a loose paving stone, his back to the Corinthe's walls.

What we have learnt from this is that klee aka thelawsofdaylight aka quillsand tends to go with shorter sentences for opening lines. Interesting!

I was tagged quite a while ago so I'm not sure who has and hasn't done this yet but if you haven't but have been wanting to, consider this your tag!

#writing tag #i currently have 6 published fics this year! that's a lot! #aiming for one or two more before the end of the year but we'll see #thank you both for the tag!!!!! #it also made me realise there are fics of yours i haven't read so like... i'm gonna get on that!!