#fic background meme

[malkaleh]

Tell us about where the inspo for the "CJ was kidnapped not Zoey" AU came from!

I think it did mainly come about because I really really wanted a Two Cathedrals esq moment for CJ - I wanted her to be able to hear that she was a Bartlet (daughter) explicitly, to have that affirmation of protectiveness etc that Josh (and Sam) and Charlie got - especially because there was a long time where I think she did feel less than. Also that image of Bartlet in the Cathedral 2.0 came to me in a flash of an image tbh - I also think I was interested in the gender of it/the public image of it - how do you deal with the daughter being kidnapped that the world doesn’t acknowledge as? The maybe gossip?

[fairandfatalasfair]

"Edwin can help" says Charles.

Crystal raises an eyebrow at him. He smiles sunnily.

"Edwin would sell me to Satan for one corn chip," she says.

Edwin, from his spot at the desk, lowers his book enough to give her a longsuffering look. "This feels like one of your obscure internet references," he says. He still says "internet" like the word doesn't belong in his mouth.

Crystal gives him a bland smile. "The internet isn't obscure," she says. "You just don't know anything about it because you're a million years old."

"One hundred twenty four," he says, because he's a pedantic little shit.

Charles is chuckling in the corner, because he has low tastes and thinks Edwin being a pedantic little shit is hilarious.

"At any rate," says Edwin crisply, "As a fugitive from hell, negotiating with Satan would hardly be in my best interests. Also, as a fugitive from hell, I have no interest in seeing anyone sent there unjustly, much less someone I have grown... attached to."

She feels her smile warm a little at that, and turns her head so that Edwin won't see. Love you too, Edwin.

"Finally," he concludes, "I am dead, with no need to eat, and therefor have no use for corn chips. This accusation does not make sense."

Crystal chokes at the affronted dignity in his voice, but pulls her expression back under control, only turning back to Edwin when she's sure she can look disdainful without her lips twitching. Charles dying of laughter in the corner isn't helping, but she manages.

"It's a meme," she says loftily.

Edwin's longsuffering expression turns pained. "Half the time, I am sure you are making these things up to aggravate me," he informs her.

She isn't, but only because the reality aggravates him plenty without any embellishment.

"Is it working?" she asks, and finally lets herself laugh when he picks up his book again and glares daggers at her over the top of it.

[theimpurelily]

“isn’t Cui Wenyan meant to do your chores? Are you going to give it to him? Can I come with you? I want to throw snowballs at him, my aim has become so good.” “Oh. Wait. Have you spent these days throwing snowballs at him?” “And Ming Fan,” Ning Yingying cheerfully admits, “and if Zhao De was here, him too! But I would add a rock in those.” Holy shit.  (from chapter 8)

I fucking love how unhinged NYY can be in @grubus Shen Yuan of No Relation

[bamsara]

one thing as an writer is that sometimes people will see 'references' in your writing that you have no idea what they're talking about. someone leaves a comment going 'i can see that homestuck reference lmao' and i have never read homestuck

[a-great-tragedy]

The slytherin skittles definitely have a murder podcast where they talk about unsolved cases that they 100% didn’t do, and discuss about how smart the killers were like: “They must of had such an intricate plan in order to commit something like this” “Yeah, it’s a shame no one else helped her plan it…” “Oh, I’m sorry, they were probably doing more important stuff, like- oh I don’t know, executing the actual murder”

[representative-democracy]

I just think these historical dead men as interpreted by a fictional, limited series television show adapted from a novel would understand Ao3 in a way I will never ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[prev][next]

Author's notes from x x x x x x x x x

[dandelion-wings]

for the ask meme - 💘 jean/eula? thank you!

Sorry you had to wait so long for this! I unfortunately have to be in a kissing mood to write kissing, and, well, I was not when this message finally showed up. XD;; But hopefully you will enjoy it anyway!

---

ETA: Now on AO3.

---

There are other Knights, Eula will admit, who could handle this situation better than she. Captain Kaeya could easily have diverted the opponent with friendly questions; their Librarian could easily have devised some smiling defense. But neither of them are here, and so it falls to Eula to rescue Jean from her besieged position.

Fortunately, Eula excels at moving across difficult terrain without disturbing the enemy. The nobility of Fontaine try to step in her way, oozing pleasantries, but she side-steps and dodges around them with her gaze cast slightly away as if she hadn't seen them, making it impossible for them to claim offense. Her attention is fully fixed on the anxious, desperate looks Jean keeps throwing her from across the room.

"Jean," she says when she draws close, reaching out to take her arm in silent support. "I require your company."

"I don't believe we've met," says the red-eyed woman who has backed Jean against the wall, looking Eula up and down.

Eula raises her chin high and meets the Knave's burning gaze, refusing to be intimidated. "I am Eula Lawrence, Captain of the Fourth Company of the Knights of Favonius, and thus your equal in rank in our respective organizations."

She can feel Jean's arm going tense beneath her hand, and squeezes it in reassurance. Fatui scum or not, the Knave won't descend to open violence in the center of this opulent hall, with all the nobility of Fontaine watching. Not that Eula trusts most of them--too many collude with her own family to do so--but the Iudex himself stands in a far corner, gazing at the crowd, and Lady Caspar is making her way gradually towards them. Neither would permit an open duel.

Wisdom says that Eula should be glad of that guard. The fury she'd felt at seeing the Knave standing so close to her Acting Grand Master, though, makes her wish it absent.

"It sounds as if you know who I am," the Knave says. Her eyes for a moment seem to flicker, growing at once darker and hotter, and Eula feels as vertiginous as if she was teetering on the edge of a yawning pit. Then her gaze flicks over to Lady Caspar, and she bows, smoothly, taking a step back as she does so. "Since introductions are over, I'll leave you and your paramour to it."

"Paramour?" Lady Caspar asks, reaching out as she reaches them to put her hand on the Knave's in almost exact echo of Eula's gesture. She looks at Eula and Jean and smiles. "No one knew the two of you were a couple. I'll speak to Gestionnaires Margette about having your rooming situation rearranged appropriately."

"That's not-" Eula begins to say, her heart pounding in her ears and a pit opening up in the bottom of her stomach. She can't look at Jean. If Jean, whom she does value as a friend, of whom she might have had... hopes, if secret ones, never to be spoken, should look dismayed or disgusted....

"That's very kind of you," Jean interrupts her. "We hadn't wished to make a fuss."

"It's no trouble at all! I know Margette has the appropriate housing." Lady Caspar smiles brightly, giving them a little finger-wave. Her grip on the Knave's arm is quite firm; Eula can see the muscle flexing under the lace of her sleeve.

Jean pulls her arm away only to tuck it into Eula's, then turns them both. Eula follows her lead towards the buffet, away from the Knave, though the hair on the back of her neck rises, and she has to resist the urge to look back as they leave. She can feel the Knave's eyes burning into her back.

"Why did you not correct the Lady Caspar?" she demands as soon as they're far enough away not to be overheard, pulling her arm away from Jean and turning to scowl at her. "Do you find that much advantage in letting these foppish idiots think you bound to a Lawrence?"

Which is entirely possible, given the unctuous way they've been behaving towards Eula all night, and *that's* a worse thought than Jean merely being disgusted. The pit in her stomach seems to open wider.

"No. I would never trade upon your name in such a way," Jean says, looking at Eula with earnest worry. "But since Lady Caspar offered to rearrange our rooms, I thought it would be best to accept. That way neither of us will spend the night in a room alone. Do you recall that message delivered to me on our way through Romaritime Port this morning?"

"I recall."

"That was from an associate- that is, someone acquainted with Master Diluc who lives in the area, whom he asked to look out for us. It said that there was serious risk of someone moving against... well, you. It seems they believe that removing you would curry favor with your family. I meant to warn you before this, but with all the ceremonies, I haven't had the chance."

Which explains the desperate looks Jean was throwing her. She hadn't been trapped after all--nor in need of Eula's rescue. Rather, her intentions had been the other way around.

Embarrassment pricks her, and she tosses her head, reflexively haughty in reaction. "Do you doubt my ability to handle any such assassins on my own? I'll make you pay for such condescension."

"I don't doubt your ability at all. But I would rather be there at your side, if you would permit me."

Protecting her Knights is her responsibility as Acting Grand Master, and Eula knows how seriously Jean takes that. The softness in her eyes may be merely worry. Eula suspects, though, that it's more. She wouldn't have harbored those secret hopes of hers if Jean didn't look at her in this way so often, and never in such fashion at anyone else. Crystalflies flutter in her stomach, but she chokes back the weak-kneed wistfulness that she always feels at that look.

"If you insist," she says, chin high, refusing to be anything but aristocratic.

The smile that spreads over Jean's face just makes the crystalflies' wings beat harder. "Thank you for granting me this favor."

"If this is the story we're going with, you might as well use it to best advantage," Eula says, holding her arm out to Jean. "Let's go play tiresome aristocratic games with those who will be more impressed our names than by our titles."

"I'll follow your lead," Jean says, taking her arm with a smile.

***

The evening is torture, and not because of the song and dance that Eula finds so foolish and these people take so seriously. *That's* not anything worse than she endures any time she speaks to her family. Having Jean on her arm, though, standing so close, smiling and graciously letting Eula introduce her.... The weak-kneed wistfulness has turned to a physical ache by the time the party winds to a close.

"Tomorrow we'll be able to speak to the Iudex himself in a private appointment," Jean says as they leave the ballroom and start down the halls to their room. "That will be far more productive. Or rather, feel far more productive. Fontaine's ruling class does buy so much wine, this may have been the more important part of our visit."

"I've heard he's admirably straightforward."

Jean's shoulders loosen the further they get from the party, and now she smiles at Eula. "So have I. He requested that I send an agenda ahead of time, and sent it back with only one addition, so I hope- ah! Excuse us," she says quickly as they round a corner.

The hallway leads through flung-open doors to a balcony ahead, and the Knave straightens from where she was leaning upon its railing at Jean's exclamation and turns to study them both. "Hmmm. They must have put you in the Lumidouce Wing."

Both Eula and Jean are tense now, though Eula thinks they're doing an equally good job of hiding it. The Knave looks casual, but a Fatui Harbinger can afford to be so even when issuing a threat. Eula had all but challenged her earlier, after all. Her pulse quickens.

"That's what we were told," Jean says, still polite even as Eula feels her shift her weight in readiness to call upon her Vision.

"If you go back around the corner and up the stairs, it's quicker, but there's a better view if you walk along the gallery," the Knave says, gesturing towards her left, where the balcony does indeed seem to extend. "I've heard it's very popular for romantic midnight trysts."

"You're quite familiar with the layout of the Palais for someone who doesn't live here," Eula says, astonished at the brazen challenge in her own voice as she says it. Having Jean here beside her makes her want to draw herself taller, to throw down that gauntlet and prove just how close she may, in fact, be to matching a Harbinger. With Jean by her side, they might even be able to take her.

The Knave meets her gaze with an expression of *infuriating* boredom, as if Eula's challenge is nothing before her. "I once considered paying a nighttime visit to someone who lived here. I turned out to meet her elsewhere, but my children enjoyed exploring it for me, so I ended up with quite a complete map."

As she speaks, she steps forward, walking briskly past them without even a twitch of aggression. This time Eula can't keep herself from turning about, letting go of Jean to better eye the woman's unguarded back. She rounds the corner without a backward glance, and yet Eula feels certain that she's completely aware of them even past the moment she vanishes from sight.

Wind swirls around them as Jean sighs in relief, stirring the flowers in a nearby vase. Slowly, Eula relaxes. Only now does she feel the chill that pervades the hallway.

"Well," she says, holding her arm out to Jean again. "Let us see this gallery."

They step outside into much warmer air. A faint breeze blows through the night, carrying snatches of song from some street performer, or perhaps another party. Lights glitter all through the city, a bright pneumosia-powered sparkling that outlines the elegant forms of buildings and walls. Eula pauses to look.

"It is an impressive sight," she says grudgingly.

"It is," Jean agrees.

Something in her tone makes Eula turn her head. Jean isn't looking at the city; her gaze is turned up towards Eula. She's smiling, soft and wistful, that same softness that Eula had seen in her worry earlier, but even more devastating wound up in this smile. Eula's knees threaten to go weak all over again.

"She did say that this was a place for romantic trysts," Jean breathes, a hushed whisper that doesn't hide the yearning in it. "If you wish this to be only a pretense, there is no one watching who will know we did not act as lovers. But... if you wished...."

The crystalflies loop and twist in Eula's stomach. She takes a deep breath, to steady them. Then she meets Jean's soft gaze with all the seriousness it deserves and answers, only, "I do wish."

She leans in. Jean's mouth is soft as her eyes, at first, giving easily to the assault Eula mounts, yielding as if Eula is a welcomed guest and not a hated Lawrence aggressor. Or as if she fears that Eula will bolt, given any kind of resistance. Eula makes an impatient sound into her mouth, and Jean pushes back just as hard, losing her hesitance, meeting Eula on equal ground and matching her in equal measure.

Anemo swirls around and through them, both of them breathing deep even as Eula's pulse begins to race again, pounding for far sweeter reasons than mere battle. She can feel Jean's in her wrists as she grasps them both, pulling her closer, leaning against the balcony rail as she draws her in tight. The glitter of the city behind and the Palais rising above is nothing to the feeling of Jean pressed up against her, the soft, hungry sounds she's making, the rush of satisfaction Eula feels as her secret hopes are, impossibly, met.

A quiet thump in the hallway, around the corner, makes them break apart, both glancing that way at once. There's nothing there, though, but dimness, the lights that had glowed along the walls as they passed gone silently dark. Eula lets go of Jean's wrists.

Before either of them can ready for an attack, though, the lights flicker and come back on. Jean laughs and smiles sheepishly at Eula. "I have heard that pneumosia is not a perfect system. There must have been a temporary fault."

"That woman put us both on edge." Eula pushes away from the railing and tosses her head, reaching out at the same time for Jean's hand. "Let's find this room we've been put in. The view may be impressive, but I'd prefer a door between us and her if we're going to be distracted."

"Oh," Jean says, as if *distraction* hadn't occurred to her. Then she takes Eula's hand and nods. "That would be for the best."

Fingers wound together, they make for the privacy of their room. Whatever may threaten--those supposed assassins, the Knave herself--Eula will make them pay for any interruption they offer. Jean may not have needed her rescue earlier, but Eula refuses to be a damsel in distress either. They'll face their foes here hand-in-hand.

[tozettastone]

Naruto or Bleach "Let's Be Strangers in the Next Life"

Madara wakes up on the morning of his nineteenth birthday. This strikes him as slightly odd because he last recalls being a. dead and b. well over a hundred. But his heart beats, a relentless drum in his chest. When he scrambles into his shoes at the door and storms outside, the sun is high in the sky.

"You overslept," says Izuna, with all the judgement a younger sibling can muster. He's smiling, though.

Madara goggles at him, sharingan flickering wildly. There is no illusion. There is no trick.

Izuna's smile fades. "Brother?"

Madara grabs him by the sleeve and reels his bewildered brother in for a desperate hug. He breathes in. He's forgotten the smell of Izuna's hair, but he remembers now

"... Madara?"

"You will not believe it," mutters Madara. "But I have... such a tale for you."

Three hours later they're both sat at the low table in their home's central chamber, tea cooling in the pot to one side, notes spread before them. Izuna looks pallid and unhappy. Madara feels how he looks.

"Well! The future sucks!" Izuna declares, tossing his brush down in at last.

Ink splatters. Madara doesn't reprimand him.

The future does suck. For all of them.

"So there will be no alliance with the Senjuu, at least. I'm don't want to say I told you so, but... Well, I told you so, brother."

Madara loves Izuna, but it's only taken three hours in his company to remember how very much he is a younger brother.

"No alliance with the Senjuu," he confirms stiffly, avoiding an argument by the skin of his teeth. Madara might be a century old but he still isn't known for his good temper.

Right now, he has the opportunity to get his whole clan as far away from the Senjuu clan, far away from Hashirama personally, and far away from the foolish daydream of Konoha. Before it can ruin them. Before it can ruin him, too.

They will need to leave. All of them, from the oldest grandmother to the youngest son. But to disengage from their endless war with the Senjuu, they'll need to give them one last sting, savage enough that that clan of misery will be left licking its wounds while the Uchiha retreat.

"Come with me," says Madara, and then he leads Izuna to the roof of his own house.

He scowls out at the Uchiha compound. It's not the first time he's done this—but it's the first time he's done it while considering the utility of his home, not as a well defended sanctuary, but instead as a giant death trap.

"We can block off the exits there," he points, "and there. Funnel them towards the central one, and—" He spins on one heel, gesturing again, but he stops when he catches his brother's face.

Izuna has never looked quite so dismayed.

[dipplinduo]

Post inspired by a conversation with @angelabsol and @maximumridewho LOL

[avephelis]

every time someone includes background jay ferin/ensa in a fic i click my heels gleefully and a rainbow appears. by the way.

[evilhasnever]

wip meme

I was tagged by @little-meowyao to find paragraphs in my WIPs with the words song, hand, and glass.

(You catch me at a time where I only have one very rough wip I am currently working on, but all three words were in it! )

It's a very self indulgent xiyao sci-fi AU:

Song:

To Meng Yao, when he was little, the best part of the stories and songs had been that the Lan did not need ships to fly - they streaked across the sky like burning white comets, bringers of good tidings. He often sat outside late at night while mother worked, and stared up to the small window of sky he could see between buildings, hoping to see a Lan comet high above.

Glass:

There are many stories about the Lans in alliance territory. Glass eyes, gold heart, was the saying - people could trust Lans implicitly, aided by both superstition and a long history of valorous deeds. Meng Yao knows that android eyes are not made of glass but carbon fiber, and that gold alloy components are placed nowhere near the core. Still, some of the mystique rubs off on him on occasion, when Lan Xichen’s moonlight gaze pierces him.

Hand:

Meng Yao pauses, then clenches the fingers of his bionic hand thoughtfully. He unspools a second cable from its wrist, humming, and plugs into the console. “I lost my arm in an accident when I was fourteen. Nie Mingjue gave me the same model arm that Nie mechanics got. He said I was too scrawny for a weaponized upgrade.”

If you are so inclined, I am tagging @lansplaining, @r95irth, @thatswhatsushesaid, @galadhir, @thepurplewombat with the words: gaze, neck, step.

[myalchod]

oh I missed the 3 sentence fic meme, is it too late to chime in with a prompt?

if not, how about Silrah + spies & secret agents?

Ooh, I love this idea so much. 💙 Almost took it down a canon-variant path, but ended up going with a vaguely nonspecific no-powers setting instead. (Almost had one of them with the knife to the other’s throat too, but … well.)

“The young gentleman on your right,” she murmurs, “blue coat, dark hair,” and he hums acknowledgement as the turn of the dance gives him an unimpeded view of the man in question, squiring Andros’ junior ambassador across the floor, “is one of his,” and it could mean anything it not for the missive she’d slipped him at the start of the evening, when he’d bowed over her hand in the receiving line and made her promise him a dance later — a tactic they’ve used more than once since the outbreak of the war drew Eraklyon and Solaria, and the two of them by extension, into an uneasy alliance to combat a mutual threat. He trusts her as little as his king does her queen, in the bigger picture, but politics has always made for strange bedfellows, and his line of work is no less political for being conducted in the shadows — never mind that those shadows are at times as brightly lit as the grand Eraklyan ballroom, ablaze with candles for the winter solstice fête; never mind that his partner blazes nearly as brightly, glittering with gems at her throat and in her intricately upswept hair, when he knows she is as familiar with those shadows as he is, and far more comfortable there than here.

They will meet again later somewhere dark and quiet, furtive as lovers, for a conference of confidences and hushed whispers in service to the rulers and the realms they have both sworn their lives to, but for now there are eyes upon them and a game to be played, and so he twirls her across the ballroom floor and grants himself a respite from those duties in the warmth of her touch and the wryly knowing humour of her eyes, and tries not to think of the day when they may once again find themselves on opposite sides of a war, all this intimacy reforged to strike at each other instead; they have learned each other too well, in this erstwhile alliance, and he thinks — not for the first time — that she alone would know enough for her blade to find its way between his ribs, for how could it be otherwise when she has already pierced his heart?

[ send me another ] [ all fills ]

[sorryidontknowwhatimdoing]

I had a dream featuring twst characters so here are the silly parts of it

Regrettable:

Both Jack and Rook are in alchemy doing class together, Rook says he needs to sneeze and Jack asks if they should switch so he can. Rook says it’s fine and he can continue but starts to get a bit upset, complaining about how Crewel said he would protect them and they wouldn’t be “overbloting” in class no matter what. He eventually decides to go to Crewel himself to complain about these things, going on about it to him. Crewel says that he’s not overbloting but instead being a “grumpy pants” and needs to go sit in the “time out corner”. Rook is surprised but makes his way over and sits down, knees to his chest. Jack comes over standing against a wall nearby, he says to Rook that, “that was the worst temper tantrum ever”. Rook silently takes out a cherry to eat from a nearby bowl of fruit and finally says, “regrettable.”

Notes: can you tell that this is hardly put together and held by tape and glue? Anyway when I had this dream rook was actually in his club gear so that was cool. Also for whatever reason Rook had like Jacks arms as in they were super like thick or whatever??? Only for the very beginning tho. Dream never actually mentioned overbloting but I had to make it have some sense, also at the very end with the fruit bowl Rook was actually Donkey Kong in the dream

I don’t think that’s right… :

Ace is holding up two apples, one is red while the other is blue. He speaks to Riddle who is standing in Heartslabyul’s kitchen with him. he asks which one represents Deuce, Riddle silently thinks for a bit before pointing at the red apple and saying “this one correct?”. Ace waits for a bit, confused before replying “no, that’s not right..”

Notes: I honestly can’t remember if Ace asked which Apple is him or if he asks which one is Deuce. Anyway I like this one because it implies that Riddle might be colorblind and I think that’s silly/pos

[lesbianwyllravengard]

Hey so I decided to write a messed up one shot for @detroitbecomeonline ‘s running the DBH characters through the Hunger Games simulator, inspired by @itsybitsybatsyspider starting this whole train wreck.

I basically took something Funny and made it Horrible.

SO you can read it here if you’d like!

[thebroccolination]

Playlist Meme

Tagged by @nejineeee!

Rules: You can usually tell a lot about a person by the type of music they listen to. Put your playlist on shuffle and list the first 10 songs, and then tag 10 people.

By Your Side - Jonas Blue, RAYE

Bittersweet Symphony - The Crown Soundtrack (they did a special remix for the trailer and it's all cinematic and atmospheric)

Free Them (feat. Teddy Swims) - ONE OK ROCK

โชคดีแค่ไหน (The Luckiest Boy) Boy Sompob

Somewhere Only We Know (feat. Darren Criss) - Glee Cast

Escape This Moment - Lightscape

Let Me Let You Go - ONE OK ROCK

I'm Alive - Celine Dion

Drove You Away - Fly By Midnight

You Set Me Free - Michelle Branch

[thethoriumreactor]

well @dontbuymeperfume if it wasn’t it is now

Hope u like it 💜📻🍎💜

(Also I switched up the roles cause they felt more in character hope u don’t mind)

bonus doodles (my handwriting is awful I’m sorry)

so like is this anything or