#doom at your service fanfic

[filthy-mudeoki]

R E C H A R G E

Doom at your service - 2021

[random-ramblings-11years]

I am a fanfiction writer. Well, sort of.

Truth is, I never imagined myself writing fanfics. EVER. BUT Doom at Your Service happened and I got sucked into a wormhole.

Now, more than a year later, I am still writing for this little fandom, or should I say some .0001% of my Twitter mutuals (lol) which consist of DAYS enthusiasts.

I am genuinely so grateful to have this small circle of readers who patiently wait for the next chapter no matter how slow I am in updating.

Because that's me — a writer who writes slowly, researches like a mad person, gets sidetracked and writes even slower (heh). I am always chasing the scenarios in my head and I never seem to catch up.

So to my readers, whether you silently follow my stories or you're the kind that makes your presence known by leaving kudos, comments or votes — I am grateful for each one of you. I don't know how much longer I can do this, but perhaps,as long as there's at least one person who enjoys reading my works, I'd still write. Even if that one person is myself. 💚

[doom-at-your-service-fan-fiction]

Please stop me from making another prompt 😆

[2ndhand-heart]

Chapter 2

Walking Cliche

The night had been long and the supposedly 30 min drive back home was quickly turning into a character building exercise. All this sitting around while trying to make a way out of this traffic jam that was the aftermath of the awarding event wasn't exactly helping his restlessness.

If anything, sitting in this van with his Best Actor trophy occupying a whole seat right next to him still felt surreal. And a little bizarre. Not to mention awkward when he had himself a manager who was throwing him sidelong glances from the smaller seat next to the door, because his trophy was sitting on his designated seat in the van. The young manager was certainly not looking very happy with his boss's decision making skills lately. 

But SangWon had no choice but perch on that tiny space as penance. Because his boss was still sulky about his failure to inform him in advance that a certain someone was present at the awards show tonight. 

"What does my schedule look like for tomorrow?" InGuk asked blandly while holding up an ipad to his face.

The young manger knew exactly what his boss was doing, putting up a chrome wall to make his petulance, erm – indifference all the more obvious. 

So the manager unlocked his own iPad to double check InGuk's  calendar of activities to ensure that this time, he would not miss any important detail. 

" Seo-sajangnim, it looks like you can go for a walk," responded promptly as he shifted in his folding seat.

In Guk straightened up almost instantaneously, then put the iPad down next to his trophy, looking very pleased.

" Jinja?"

"Ne."

Then with the same haste, In Guk picked up the iPad and held it up to his face again, with one arm folded to his stomach so his other elbow could sit on it as he held the device up. 

"Why would I go for a walk," he asked, his tone lost between petulance and a scoff as he was suddenly retracting his initial excitement. 

If this were his first day, SangWon would be flipping tables and pulling his hair at his boss's constantly changing mood tonight. But aside from the fact that it was partially his fault, he was more than willing to appease him since he was already familiar with InGuk's coping mechanisms in any given situation.

"Don't you need to blow off steam? So you know…you won't fire me," Manager SangWon retorted sheepishly.

That was all it took for InGuk's disgruntlement to melt away. He wasn't really mad at his manager at all, was he? He was just…just…well, he didn't have a word for it.

So InGuk leaned back on his seat again to ruminate in his thoughts while pretending to be looking at something important on his ipad. He could really use a long walk along a quiet bridge right now to decompress all of these strange but familiar feelings that were bubbling up in his chest. They just wouldn't go away even now, long after he had left the stage.

When he got home, the first thing he did was put his trophy on his bedside table. He gave it a proud smile before he turned around and walked over to his closet to change into his go to combination of a dark colored jacket over a long sleeved shirt, a pair of training pants and his favorite pair of running shoes. It was past midnight but he couldn't take any chances, so he completed the look with a black cap and covered his face with a black face mask. Then he went about his much needed long stroll.

In the last two years, he had spent more than half of his provisional free time walking along the quiet streets of Seoul in the afterhours. Sometimes he did it to clear his head after a long day at work, other times he did it just to spend a little time alone. Sometimes, he would walk about a mile when he needed to make important decisions. But more often than not, it was to walk off some of what he believed were just residual emotions from the character he portrayed a couple of years back in his comeback drama after a long hiatus from the small screen.

Tonight, he had set for a long walk again, but this time it was for all of those reasons combined. 

Because he could still feel the same micro currents that coursed through the tips of his fingers from the moment he left the table to when he climbed up the carpeted treads leading up to the stage to claim his award. He could still feel the havoc that his heartbeats created as he took every nervous step, knowing where each one was leading.  How he could very clearly see his destination on his way up, and how it was beaming and breathtakingly arresting, and just every bit the same beautiful face as he remembered. 

For a moment then he was convinced that everything went quiet – the micro currents in his fingertips, the havoc in his chest, and his nervous steps – all hushed when their eyes met on stage. His footfalls chasing the beats of his heart were amplified when she smiled back at him. And when she broke eye contact, the noise resumed and became even more clamorous. 

Upon reaching the microphone stand, Bo Young handed him the trophy with a graceful haste, and he accepted it with a courteous bow. The micro currents in his fingertips suddenly ignited a full-on spark as they fortuitously touched the back of her hands, and Bo Young's  eyes rounded in a startled gaze as she looked up at him. Perhaps she felt the microvolt from the tips of his cold fingers. But she was grateful that like the old times, his broad shoulders effectively kept her reaction out of the audience's scrutinizing gaze.

With a knowing look, they understood what needed to be done to repair the situation. Both disguised the nervous tension in their own signature smiles. His was dimpled and toothy, with eyes like daggers that could cut through the coldest hearts. While hers was wide and charming, with eyes that could reflect one's soul in their gleam. 

They were experts at this, at putting on an act like none of these things affected them. But even though they were both worried that the other might be a little distressed, they still trusted each other enough to get through this crucial moment with their impeccable synergy that had endured even after all the years that had passed. 

They were more concerned about how the world would perceive this rare interaction. One wrong move and dating rumors would surface again. And a glance short of a split second could stir up a barrage of break up allegations. 

So Bo Young let go of the trophy, then held out her right hand to congratulate her former leading man. In Guk took her hand with a conscious effort not to linger in holding it. Then like a river that flowed in two separate streams, they broke apart, with Inguk turning to face the audience directly and Bo Young taking a few steps back to allow him to bask in the spotlight that was rightfully his in this pivotal moment in his life. 

He honestly did not prepare a speech tonight, and so he stumbled on his words as he tried to express his gratitude to as many people as he could remember.  After which he dedicated the award to his family, most especially his eomma who had been his biggest fan and the strongest foothold of his support system that kept him together through the course of his colorful and challenging career. 

Bo Young stayed in his shadow, simultaneously choking up and chuckling on his rather emotional speech. Her natural tendency to want to sum up his blabbers just had to stay under for now. Because his proudest moment deserved only his purest form which was honest and spontaneous, albeit expressed in incoherent ramblings as his hands and his whole body moved in uncoordinated gesturing and motioning of the very words he was trying to articulate. 

Every now and then InGuk would glance at his left as he tried to get through his acceptance speech. He was hoping to catch a glimpse of her before he was finished, but he could only turn his head this much to avoid speculations. He had to keep in mind that this world was a scary place where beautiful things would always get ruined by slur and spite. And he didn't want that. Otherwise, everything they went through together and apart would be a waste. 

The entire acceptance speech felt like a blur and InGuk was back in his seat at the table in no time. He thought it was the last time he would be in the same space as Bo Young that night, but as it seemed, the universe had a different plan. 

When the show concluded, reporters from different media outlets awaited outside the hall to  have a quick interview with the celebrities on their way out. 

In Guk happened by a familiar reporter who didn't miss the opportunity to congratulate him for winning the best actor award. 

" Kamsahamnida. I really feel honored and grateful," he bowed politely. 

But there was a sudden shift in the reporter's expression as she glanced over InGuk's shoulder. She clearly saw someone behind him who caught her interest.

Curious, In Guk turned slightly to his left to see who it was, and lo and behold, it was no less than the nation's sister-in-law, Park Bo Young, making her way out of the double doors.

The reporter wasted no time and called her attention by aiming the camera and the portable light to her direction.

The surprise on her face was subtle enough for the reporter not to notice, but InGuk's eyes were trained to see the nuances she made with just her gaze. He knew right away that she would dodge this ambush interview if she could if it weren't for the live camera that was rolling in front of them. 

So InGuk strategically positioned himself by turning his back on the camera to block its view of Bo Young. He then gave her a reassuring smile and after a quick exchange of nonverbal  agreement through lingering eye contact and subtle nods, she willingly rose to the occasion by moving closer. He then faced the camera again, this time with a smiling Bo Young next to him. 

"It's been a while since the two of you were on the same stage together," the reporter started with the obvious. "How did it feel to meet again on stage after a long time?"

Both In Guk and Bo Young shared a look then started giggling. Probably because they both knew exactly what was going to happen next. And just like they anticipated, with his open palms In Guk gestured to Bo Young to go first, just like in the hundreds of other interviews they sat through together a couple of years ago. 

"It felt amazing because I presented the award to him," Bo Young answered with a well rehearsed cheerfulness. "And it's his first best actor award so I know it's really special. I'm grateful to meet him on stage again at such an important milestone. I must say the award was very well deserved," she added as she glanced at In Guk with a proud smile. 

Unable to suppress the flattered look on his face, InGuk resorted to show his gratitude playfully with a bow.

" Kamsahamnida ," he said sheepishly after. "I agree. It really did feel amazing to meet like this again after a long time. Like Bo Young-ssi said, it is my first best Actor award. And having someone whom I have worked alongside in one of my best loved dramas present this very special award made it even more special. I felt like I was being handed my heart and soul that I poured into my works. I feel so honored."

"That's really beautiful. Any chance that your fans will see the two of you in another project? Doom at Your Service was a hit. I'm a big fan of the show, too," the reporter asked enthusiastically.

In Guk anticipated this question but he still felt quite nervous the moment it was asked. Would it be okay to express his sincere wish to work with her again?

That short pause and  how he gulped upon hearing the question did not escape Bo Young's eyes. She had to think on her feet before In Guk could open his mouth and blabber something that could spark the hopes of fans especially those who had always rooted for them to date in real life. 

"We'll be glad if it happens," she interjected with a charming smile and glanced at InGuk, hoping she was able to get the point across. 

"That's right. I'll be happy to work with her again if and when the opportunity presents itself," In Guk agreed with a nod while looking at Bo Young to make sure he had her approval. The wide smile she sustained while he answered gave him relief. 

The reporter knew there was nothing juicy she could squeeze out from these two pros, so she ended the ambush interview by congratulating In Guk a second time and thanking him and Bo Young before she proceeded to the next actor she saw behind them. 

Bo Young was already on the move when In Guk turned, deterring his intention to start a small talk. Had he known that she would be there, he would've been more prepared to go after her and perhaps they could catch up. Instead, he watched her make her way out of the venue without looking back at him. 

__________________________________________________

The drive back to her house wasn't nearly as stressful as when she was traveling to the venue. But it was exhausting nonetheless, with all these lingering thoughts about their bittersweet meeting long after they parted ways. But once she got home, the disarray in her head had died down in the silence of being alone again. 

A quick shower helped, and some ice cream, too. Who knew she would turn into a person who turned to desserts to distress? He had some hand in it, didn't he? His endless love for choco pie had influenced her to love sweets. 

His influence in her life wasn't limited to just how she coped with stress. In fact, its extent had reached as far as making her more active on social media. Heck, he was even able to convince her to create an Instagram account. 

Scrolling through social media had been her guilty pleasure since she signed up a couple of years ago. Somehow she found comfort in reading how much fans were missing her whenever she disappeared from the limelight. But there were also times when her heart was broken by some nasty comments from  equally nasty anti fans who didn't favor her as a suitable partner for their oppa . 

She had been through it many times before — the craze of a new drama after a long hiatus, the hype that fans gave to her onscreen love affair, and the most ridiculous of them all — the amount of dating rumors that came with it during shoot and long after the drama had ended. 

But she never had any qualms with any of those things. She knew what she was getting herself into when she decided to try her luck in this type of job. And that was how she honed a very useful skill in nipping rumors in the bud by not condoning any type of promotions that required romantic posturing. The Great Wall of Park Bo Young did not become her legendary trademark for nothing. 

She didn't know that there would come a time when that supposed wall would crumble. What was even more astonishing was that its eventual collapse wasn't caused by a sudden impact or intense force, but rather by playfulness and gentle spontaneity. And before she knew it, the person who exhibited those things had already melted her emotional barricade.

But that was some years ago, when she made the mistake of trusting her foolish heart. Funny how she had fortified her walls with her heedfulness for so long, and the one time she  unbarred her fences, she ended up getting burned. 

Seeing him again tonight seemed to have affected her more than she cared to admit. Truth be told, she felt so happy for him because at last, his hard work had paid off. She felt proud of him because he deserved the award that she presented to him earlier tonight, and she was glad that she was able to congratulate him in person for his biggest achievement. 

But at the back of it all, she was hurting because presenting that award to him was the closest thing to being part of this moment in his life. Because they made that choice two years ago. Because what they had didn't qualify as something worth risking everything for. And now more than ever, she truly felt that perhaps, she made the right decision.

"It doesn't matter what we lost. Everything we gave up led to this. And it's worth it," she convinced herself as she sat on the couch while scrolling through some old photos in her cloud gallery. 

She was looking at their random photos together at the shooting site, some candid photos of him that she took, and some of his selfies that he took himself on her phone that week they spent in Jejudo. 

" Aissh, this goofball. He really deserves that best actor award for being such a great comedian," she chuckled. 

She kept scrolling and scrolling hoping the pang of regrets would let up if she reached the end of her gallery. She didn't realize how much of their moments together were captured by such a small device. Did they really have those happy moments together? 

Perhaps they did and it created a tie between them that was just impossible to disentangle. The way they communicated without words just by looking into each other's eyes was enough proof that that bond between them had persisted despite not seeing each other for so long. 

And for a moment, it made her happy. Because at least something between them survived without breaking. 

But then she recalled how he didn't even try to talk to her after the reporter left them alone and moved on to the next celebrity. She thought he would at least ask how she had been, or say hi officially. Because they didn't really get the chance to even say hi to each other like normal people do. She scoffed at the realization that even now, they still had that tendency to skip so many things just like they did in the past. Thank goodness for her assistants who were both waiting for her at the corner and came to her rescue by helping her leave the venue immediately. 

Now, she wasn't done scrolling through her gallery yet, because she had about a thousand pictures to scroll past, but she kept going back and forth to look at some of them closely. She was nearing the end of her camera roll when suddenly, her phone vibrated in her hand and a notification popped up on the screen and said:

✉️ 1 new message from In Guk Oppa

[gortashs-skidmark]

There are many brilliant ideas about Gortash and Durge. I would like to point some out below. Not all are mine.

HEADCANONS -

!! Some bulletpoints were taken from sources, from Gortash Fanficition. I have highlight the ones I know I got from fanfiction, I’ve linked all original source posts !! READ PLS !!

!! I do not want to be a plagiarist! if it's your fanfic, pls let me know if it makes you uncomfortable and I will remove it !!

*Orange means it's canon

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

The way Durge and Gortash know their doom is inevitable, but it was nice while it lasted trope.

<3

Durge’s Prayers to Bhaal for forgiveness: Every time durgetash do the nasty, Durge whispers little prayer of forgiveness to their god.

<3 found reference!

Durge is the “good child” out of Bhaal’s children. Which means they have an image to keep up, and keep up with Bhaal’s plans. They’re under constant stress and fear from their father. Treating him like a father and God gets tough.

<3

Gale’s line “with you, I forget my goddess” I love the idea of applying that to Durgetash: “You scare me. You make me feel like an individual, not like the spawn I am destined to be. I should not see you as an equal or take your companionship. But when I’m with you, I forget my god.” Something along those lines.

<3 found reference!

Durge is a fierce maniac but in no way competitive. I think there’s a laziness Durge and Gortash share. Unkempt. Uninterested in competition. Gortash just makes them an employee instead of killing them.

I love the idea Ketheric is just done with their bs. They’re two reasonable individuals but little giggly school girls in love at a catholic boarding house.

This headcanon is shared across Durge lovers! I will add one example but it is not unknown across the community!

<3 example!

Durge has personality. Scared to lose the rest of themself but scared to indulge when they’re with Enver. On one hand- handsome tyrant who wants to rules the world with them and peepaw. The other- fulfilling the worlds suffering for their father. Do they want either outcome. Durge’s neutral is to feel bittersweet or somber. (Or carnal damning lust)

When Durge has all those holes poked in their brain, and they’re with their travelling companions. They get nauseous after battle, they gotta sit down for a few. Sickened with themselves, or, feeling too much lust at once. Gale doesn’t ask why they need a rest, his knees need a break.

Durge has unusually soft spots on their skin. Made from Bhaal’s balls. Or from Bhaal’s inner arms, like the inner bicep or forearm. Soft and plush, possibly looser, where the skin is tougher. “He made me in his own image” fucked up kinda stuff.

Durge doesn’t harm Gortash. “When I like something I keep it good condition, I cherish it, I hone it, I keep it polished”

Durge is a clean person. Sloppy perhaps but their room is made up of minimalist decorations. A bookshelf and a small desk. They sleep on the softest fluffiest bed, anything to try and sleep as an insomniac. Bottles of empty angelic sleeping potions around the bed and on the side tables. They make their room up themselves. Some part of them wished they could share as much personality as their room does, so openly.

Durge has a hobby. Only hinted to those who are close. Cooking, cleaning, knitting, whatever you like. But it’s not something they share so much. They might comment on the poor stitching quality at Carmen’s Garms. Or how the fishermen on the docks will lie about the cod being sea bass, only a real cook would know.

Durge did/does temple services. I think they said that in the game. Lead everything. But also the Bhaalists are LAZY AS FUCK. And the Bhaalspawn spends hours cleaning the alter and other parts of the temple. The blood and guts and possible diseases?? Bhaalists def die off from blood diseases.

Being a Bhaalist means that it’s about the number of kills and the suffering of their victims, something Sarevok prefaced in game. Durge takes a different stance, placebo-ing themselves so they only kill a small number to last for awhile without blacking out and losing control. Like “I killed them in a manner I haven’t before- I’ll take satisfaction in their unique death more than usual”- spiraling and trying to make up for their guilt. OCD behavior.

Sarevok and Durge are toxic besties. Sarevok hates Durge but Durge comes back bc they’re lonely and need friends to relate to. Until Gortash.

Durge takes a liking to the Intellect Devourers before their fall- that special one named “Us”. Their brief interaction on the Nautiloid Ship when they lose their memories, Us was something they felt connected to. Adored it like a puppy. They feel a sense of incredible loss when they wake up on the beach without Us. But why? It’s a nasty brain with scaly claws, they shouldn’t feel sad.

[randy-inks-writing-blog]

Lonely (Lucifer x Hellborn! GN Reader)

—————————————

Just some fluff with sad boi Lucifer for fun. Tell me what you think and what I can improve on!

Edit: You can read the fanfic on Ao3

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Succubuses and incubuses are known for their sexual activities. You, however, choose a distinct career path. Instead, you use your skills to comfort people. Give them a little massage, or a talk too. Many people are surprised to find lots of sinners have parent issues. On rare occasions, customers just want to pretend that their partner is still with them. Your coworker walked up to you with a smug smile. She stops at your desk and says “Guess who just asked for your services, (y/n)” you till your head, surely must be someone important if she’s bothering you. “Who?” you ask softly. The coworker smiles wide and answers; “the king of hell, himself!” Shocked at what your coworker says, you stood up and said “Lucifer Morningstar? Do you know what he wants? Oh, dear Satan, I gotta look good for him!” Your coworker grabs your shoulders and holds you still. “(y/n) chill, he just wants someone to talk to. Just wear something comfy, your appointment is at 3 tomorrow, ok?” You nod your head. That’s enough time to calm your nerves, hopefully.

You walk up to the doors of Lucifer’s manor, quietly you knock on the door. A small old imp opens the door for you. He bows his head and tells you to follow him to Lucifer’s room. As the two of you walked, you looked at all the portraits of Lucifer’s family. Most of them were of the missing queen and their daughter, Charlie Morningstar. The butler stops right in front of Lucifer’s room. You stop right next to the imp as he knocks on Lucifer’s door. “Sire, your guest is here.” You heard a response but could barely make any words out. The butler opens the door for you, and you slowly walked in. The room is positively a mess, rubber ducks everywhere as far as you can see. You walked over to the king’s bed and gave a small bow to him. Looking at the fallen angel’s face, he like his room looks like a mess. Small tears fall down the king’s face, looks like he’s been crying for days. You sat next to the king, being mindful of your wings and tail. Lightly, you place a hand on the king’s check and softly rub it. With caution, you spoke to the king; “Your highness, is there anything specific you need?” the crying angel answers back “call me Lucifer please. And no, I just- I just need someone to hold me like Lilith once did.”

Well, that’s a bit awkward. How long has the queen been gone for again? Seven years, who knew the king of all of hell was just a lonely guy? Hey, you’re not going to judge you’re the one who took this job. You laid down next to the king and pulled him closer to you. Lucifer’s head laid right on your chest as you wrap your wings around the king. The king cried into your chest. Good thing this is a gender non-specific fanfic. “I miss my wife; I miss her a lot. Why? Why did she have to leave me? Was I not good enough?” he sobs, making the situation more awkward for you. You ran a hand through his blonde hair with a smile before you whispered. “I think you’re good enough, Lucifer. Maybe you should stop thinking about the past and think about your future.” Lucifer looks up at you with hopeful eyes quietly he ask, “Like my daughter?” You nod your head yes, but Lucifer just looks away from you. “If only it was that easy. All I can think about is the past. I’m the one of the doom of all of humanity. I’m the one who convinces Eve to eat that fruit.” You cup Lucifer’s face and make him look at you again. “While that is true, you also help make hell, and without hell there wouldn’t be imps, hellhounds, succubuses and incubuses. And those loan sharks that have those weird Italian accents yet don’t know a single word from that language.” Lucifer listens to your talk, feeling a little better. The king nuzzles into your chest once again, finding your body heat comforting. You snuggle closer to the king; this is something you’re going to brag about to your coworker. “I guess you’re right, in a way. Thank you for doing this for me. I’ll double your tip when this is over.” Lucifer softy spoke, now feeling a little sleepy. You nod your head and lightly pet Lucifer’s hair.

—————————————

[filthy-mudeoki]

NEW CHALLENGE ME DAILY

Thinking of starting up another challenge me daily - all based around kdramas (nothing more than 500 words)

Drop a prompt or request and I’ll see if I can write it! Check the tags for relevant kdramas I’ll consider for this.

Let’s get writing 🌸🌸

[withlove-xixi]

I came running to your requests the second I finished reading the chilchuck writing!! You have such an incredible grasp of his character I was so impressed! Can I request a fem reader x marcielle where they both are pining for each other but don’t know if each other are queer and pathetically try and dip their feet in the water only to quickly take them out before even knowing if the waters hot or not?? I know you like doomed Yuri but please give this a happy ending where they end up together!! Marcy suffers enough 🙏🙏

If you don’t do female readers or this request doesn’t interest you feel free to ignore it! Thank you for your service in dungeon meshing fanfics lmao

— THE SUN AND THE MOON: marcille x f!reader

ᥫ cw: burn mention (used metaphorically) ᥫ wc: 3226 ★ OH ANON, SWEET ANON. I AM MORE THAN DELIGHTED TO DELIVER YOU YURI (LESBIANISM IN MY VEINS .. MY CALLING .. MY DUTY)!! anyway, i fear i might've gotten a bit carried away .. but i hope you enjoy it regardless! cross posted on ao3

— IT MUST’VE BEEN DIFFICULT BEING THE SUN.

[♡]: that was the only thought running through marcille’s mind as she watches you gingerly patch up a tear in one of her dresses. she watches fondly as your fingers nimbly thread the needle through deep blue fabric with such care and gentleness, she almost envied it. well, what choice did she have but to envy it? what choice does the moon have but to want the sun’s warmth?

RISING SUN.

That’s what you were. Something bright, something inviting, almost tempting. Marcille felt drawn to you, she always had. There was just always some quality about you that drew her in, a radiance that seemed to guide her steps to draw closer and closer to you. It was nearly instant, the inviting sunshine that pulled at her, caused her to come closer until she extended her arm out towards you and introduced herself. It did not help that you smiled so brightly and sweetly. You grabbed her hand, warmth spreading from your body to hers, shook it firmly. Marcille had to try really hard not to think too much about you after that.

For a while she really wouldn’t tell why, she couldn’t tell what specifically about you kept tempting her. She felt it, nearly every moment of your time together in the dungeon, a small part of her that would always keep you close. Marcille would walk next to you, she would try and make small talk with you, she would offer to help you. The more she let herself bask in your light and warmth, the more she felt drawn to stay, until she was comfortably resting by your side, a sunny friendship that made her heart feel fuzzy.

High noon.

That’s what you were, hot and looming. You were always close with Marcille, something she would never fully figure out the reason for. But you were there, at the corner of her eye, staying by her side at a comfortable distance, watching her tie braids in her hair, putting your bedroom adjacent to hers. The tug she had initially felt when you two first met only grew, flames that only consumed her inside, filling her with sunshiny warmth. It was hot, nearly dangerously so, hot, blazing noon heat. Marcille began to overheat, cheeks would flush when your fingers would brush against hers when you walked together, brain would malfunction when you would worriedly bandage her minor injuries, stomach would twist in knots when you would smile at her. A smile so bright and sweet.

Marcille was half-scared she would explode. Or melt into a puddle.

Heat, dangerously hot heat. With the warmth came hesitation, the fear of being burnt if she stood too close, if she lingered under sunlight too long. The idea felt more like a promise than a threat, a guarantee that getting closer to you would end in failure, leave her brunt bright red, leave her howling in pain into empty space.

She liked you, there was part of her that screamed that obvious fact to her face as much as she wanted to suppress and deny the idea, let it die down to a passing thought. In her heart Marcille knew she still longed for the sun, she still craved for your hot touch, your bright smile, your warm company. She willed it in such a way, it was no longer simple friendship. It was something deeper, heavier. It was something that went past her niceties, that stemmed from the pits of her heart.

It was an aching sort of craving, a hunger that left her immobilized. It was the temptation of a forbidden fruit, of a light that would burn.

She saw the way you were with other people. People like the men in your party. Marcille had nothing against them, but still there was a small part of her that boiled green at the way you were around them because it was the same way you were with her but different. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it but there was a difference. Something small she could feel on the tips of her senses.

Marcille saw the way you were. She saw the way you giggled at Laios’ antics as he clumsily poked at some strange plant in the dungeon. She saw the way you praised Chilchuck’s handiwork, a compliment that proved only how observant you could be. She saw the way you teased Shuro for his awkwardness in the party during meal times. It might’ve begun to piss her off had it not been you. Marcille, as jealous as she might get around the boys, could never truly bring herself to feel so terribly when it's something about you. How could she when your laugh was like the warm summer breeze, your care like fireplace warmth, your smile like starshine.

Gods! Marcille wanted to tear her hair out. It was such a pain to be hungry, to so desperately crave for light, for warmth. It was a pain to be hungry for something you know you can never have, you could never even begin to imagine the taste of.

She kept her distance, an orbit just at arms reach. The same politeness and gentleness as the beginning, with the new caution for heat. She allowed herself to bask only in the reflection of your light.

Setting sun.

That’s what you were as you gingerly patch up a tear in one of Marcille’s dresses. Strangely it felt so domestic despite the other party members that crowded around your small campsite, despite the terribly difficult fight everyone was still recovering from, despite her keeping her usual far away distance. Her gaze lingered on you, studying the way your fingered moved with such grace and tenderness, she might’ve gotten jealous of the way you treated the needle had she not remembered you had personally offered to come and patch it up for her (a fix she definitely could’ve done — or normally would’ve gotten Chilchuck to fix for her — but could she really pass up the opportunity?).

Marcille watched quietly and carefully, musing at the way you chatted with Namari as you worked, the small smile that evolved into a snort and a chuckle at something Namari said that Marcille didn’t quite care enough to hear. She smiled fondly at your direction, a soft sigh escaping her lips.

Chilchuck nudges her as he moves to sit by her side near the campfire. She paid him little attention, not bothering to glance his way as she spoke. “What do you want?” Something a bit more curt than usual, but Chilchuck doesn’t care enough to be bothered.

“It’d be easier to just talk to her, you know,” he said plainly as he opened up his waterskin to take a sip.

Marcille snorts, finally turning to him with her brows furrowed in skepticism. “Right, because you’re so suddenly an expert at forming bonds?” She jests, causing the muscle under Chil’s eye to twitch slightly.

He sighs in satisfaction once he’s finished taking his drink. He points an accusatory finger at Marcille, it catches her off guard. “I’m just saying you should talk to her at least. I’m sick of hearing you sigh and giggle when you're just… staring… at her— it’s creepy!” Chilchuck says in a scolding manner.

Marcille’s cheeks turn red at the comment. “Wh—” She begins but your soft laugh cuts through the air and her ears pick up on the sound immediately.

No doubt Chilchuck has too, but he chooses to sigh at the elven girl. “All I’m saying is communication is important.” He stands and dusts off the back of his pants. “So get it together, Marcille. Do something about… this,” He gestures a hand vaguely at Marcille, “because I’m really, really getting sick of this nonsense.”

As he walks away, Marcille watches and grumbles something about how he should mind his own business, but she feels a presence appear next to her. She senses warmth.

Rising moon.

That’s what she was. Something alluring, something enigmatic, nearly mysterious. You had never met an elf before, not saying it was a bad thing but it definitely helped shine an interest on Marcille. Of course, it didn’t help that she was pretty. You were nervous, of course you were. You were fresh meat in a new environment, your next few days would be spent underground, enclosed by damp stone walls and all sorts of beasts. She had stepped closer to you, extended a friendly hand for you to shake. She had told you her name, a sweet sounding lullaby that gracefully left her lips.

You smiled warmly at her, feeling instantly at ease with her kindness, her softness. There was something that drew you to her, a force that tugged at you to come a bit closer to take a better look at her. She was soft, gentle. It was like the breath of autumn wind, something cool, something calming. You couldn’t quite place it, but you could tell something about her tempted you, lulled you into a drowsy state. So you smiled warmly at her, shook her hand and told her your name in return, a small hope kindling inside you that this acquaintanceship would lead to something more.

Midnight.

That’s what she was, dim and looming. You quickly grew close with Marcille, after all, she was the first friend you made among the Touden party, what reason did you have not to be close to her? Besides, she was admirable. In your eyes, she shone brightly, a soft light amidst the void of night. Marcille was a reliable member of the party, always looking for things to help out with (though sometimes she would complain first despite doing it regardless), which was admirable. She was smart too, well-versed in all sorts of spells and knowledgeable in different academic topics, which was admirable too. She also was very careful in her own way, taking time to make sure she was neat and tidy, putting the effort into adorning her silken blond locks with braids and bows, ridding her beautiful features of any spec or dirt, which was admirable… in a way… Well, in the way you were able to just admire her grace, her softness. Truly she had this air of softness to her, like she was constantly followed by a halo of light, a soft glow that was calming in its own way.

Marcille was truly admirable like, that you supposed.

But still, it felt like all you could do was admire her. Despite the closeness that developed between you two, there was always this invisible force that kept you apart, a tension that seemed to hinder you from stepping forward. That, or it was distance. She felt far away to you, something you could only be stuck admiring, like painting in a museum or light on the horizon. The allure of her would always draw you near, you'd sit next to her during meal times or secretly place your bedroll closer to hers, you'd walk side by side and chat when exploring, you'd help her brush the back of her hair, but there was this feeling from the pits of your guts, a self-instilled omen of misfortune for you if you continued to allow yourself to be drawn to her.

Well, after all, you saw how she was with Falin. You had nothing against Falin, you could never even be truly mad at either of them, but whenever they were together you felt… sad. It was quite acidic as envy, but it was cold, and dark, and quiet. Of course you knew the pair had been friends since they were young, years far before your addition to the Touden party, a story Marcille always smiled about when she'd tell you; her years at the magic academy were some of her favorite stories to tell you, you're favorites only because Marcille was the one telling them. Suppose it was some form of jealousy, but really it felt more akinned to despair.

Falin and Marcille were close, far closer than you could even imagine you and Marcille could become. When Marcille wasn't with you, she was undoubtedly with Falin — or rather, when Marcille wasn't with Falin, she was with you. It felt that way at least.

But, regardless, you were no evil witch, no lunatic magician. You wouldn't even dare explicitly drive a stake between the friends, as much as you desperately wanted to be in Falin's shoes. All you did was what you had already been doing, keeping yourself at arms reach, keeping a safe distance from you and her softness, her light, her mystery. You watched from afar, as she'd laugh alongside Falin, as she'd grab her hand, as she'd leave you in searing cold.

Setting moon.

That’s what she was as you sense her gaze linger on you as you patch up one of her dresses, an act you did with such care and love, you were practically kissing better the rips in the deep blue fabric. You feel it, practically burning gently on your skin like firefly kisses, how her emerald eyes stay fixed on you, preying on how your fingers move, studying how you brush hair out of your face. You catch her gaze from the corner of your eye, the hazy look on her porcelain skin, the way the firelight illuminated her features. You try your best not to think of it too much, knowing you’d turn bright red at just the thought of her, instead focusing your attention at carefully sewing her dress, focusing on threading the needle to create perfect invisible stitches to make it look brand new, focusing on how Marcille would smile when you handed her the finished product, focusing on the thought of how she’d go on to wear the dress with your needlework on it, a secret love letter etched into the blue fabric—

“You ‘kay?” A deeper female voice calls from beside you, fortunately and quickly breaking you free from your thoughts.

“Wh- Hm?” You hum, still trying to scramble out of the lingering remnant thoughts of Marcille.

“Yer.. turnin’ red.” Namari notes as she bends a bit closer, looking at the pink dust on your cheeks.

“It’s nothing..” You softly say, instinctively sneaking a glance at Marcille before you turn back to your work.

Narami is unimpressed. She catches the shift of your eyes towards the party’s battle mage and she sighs, taking a seat next to you. “Ya thinkin’ ‘bout her again?”

Instantly a small smile breaks on your face at the mention of Marcille, you chuckle, snorting a bit before you turn to meet Namari’s face. “Am I really that obvious?” You ask but there’s no sense of embarrassment or fear, Marcille did always make you feel at ease.

She mirrors your chuckle. “‘Course.” She says plainly. “Though, I doubt anyone else noticed.” She looks up. “Chil might’ve though.”

You follow her gaze to see the half-foot next to Marcille, she seems annoyed and a bit flustered too. You let out a small laugh and resume your work on the dress. “Of course, Chilchuck’s noticed. What doesn’t he?”

Namari snorts. “Bet he was the first to notice… whatever the both of ya got goin’ on with each other.”

Your brows furrow and your hands freeze. “What’s that meant to mean?”

Namari blinks at you, almost shocked at your confusion. “Like how Marcille and ya are… Ya know…” She makes a gesture, her fingers interlocking with each other. “Ya know?”

“What?” You ask, voice a pitch higher, the initial blush on your face quickly returning. “Wh-what is that even meant to mean, Mari?”

The dwarf shrugs. “I mean- well, if ya don’t know then there’s maybe nothin’— I don’t know!” She says defensively. “I’ve just heard Chil complain ‘bout ya two, is all.”

“Complain about what?”

“Says he’s tired’a seein’ ya two keep google’ at each other an—”

You sit up straight, causing her to pause abruptly. You look at her incredulously, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape, brows furrowed. “Two of us?” You ask in a loud whisper. “Two of us?”

Marcille feels your warmth next to her, she feels her world begin to shine in radiant light. She turns to you, a little awestruck as she usually is when she looks at you, especially when you smile the way you’re smiling at her right now.

“Finished your dress,” you say sweetly, softly, like the sweet kiss of morning sunlight through the curtain.

She smiles at you like moonbeams across the ocean. “Thank you,” she replies. Your fingers touch when you pass the clothing to her, a featherlight brush against her like fate was teasing you with a small taste of what you craved.

You sit next to each other in silence, the same comfortable silence weighed on by that thick tension. Marcille smooths over the area where you stitched, fingers gingerly tracing over the invisible lines where your thread passed through her dress. You swallow thickly as you watch her, eyes following each gentle stroke of your fingers. You envy the fabric.

“Marcille,” your voice causes her to look up at you, your face catches the firelight like the honeyed rays of the sun.

“Hm?” She hums in response, head tilting to the side in curiosity. “What is it?”

You lean towards her, brows twitching and you try and muster your courage. “Do you… Do you… like me?” you ask timidly.

Oh, Marcille feels like she would die right now.

Her face instantly flushes red and she jolts upright. “What?” She nearly yells. 

You blink, trying terribly hard not to let your heart feel heavy. “Have I… gotten the wrong impression?”

“N-no! That— It’s—” She sighs. Suppose there isn’t really a way to talk out of it now. She opens her mouth to speak but you beat her to it.

“N-Namari told me to ask. She says it’s been pretty obvious.” You explain timidly, your gaze drifting away from her as wring your hands together. “She said… I was pretty obvious about it too…”

“About…?”

“I…” You take a deep breath, “I like you, Marcy.”

And it was like the world had suddenly shattered. That invisible force that held you two apart finally vanished with the air, leaving you two to allow each other to be pulled into one another like magnets.

Marcille’s eyes shine brightly, hopefully even. She leans closer, one hand gripping tightly against her dress, the same one you had so carefully taken the time to fix for her, the same one she had envied. The other hand lingers in the air, fingers twitching as she hesitates one final time, the final remnants of the tension between you two still trying desperately to cling on.

“Th… I— I like you too…”

You smile, the same smile when you first met, so brightly and sweetly. Relief washes over you, like you had just suddenly been doused in ice cold water. She reaches out to you with her free hand, very slowly making its way to cup your cheek.

“I think… I’ve liked you for a long time now,” Marcille says, punctuates it by saying your name so sweetly, like it was devised for her and only her to speak.

Her thumb smooths over your cheek, caressing your face in such a tender manner. You lean into the touch, moving your own hand to go over hers. You two stare at each other for a bit, tunnel visioning only into each other, allowing everything else around you to blur into distant colors.

You lean forwards, closer to her, and you hear a small gasp leave her lips when she realizes what would happen next. You smile fondly at the noise.

Then the sun and the moon finally meet in total eclipse.

[zeus-japonicus]

A Eulogy for Graham; or, a fanfic to celebrate the one year anniversary of Trice Forgotten

cw: death, misogyny, referenced unequal racial dynamics, spoilers for episode 10

Been wracking my brain on how to thank you all for being fans of the show and supporting it throughout the last year, and so I wrote something that will never be canon, but may entertain those of you who love to hate or hate to love Graham. Some dead doves in this notes-app-un-proofread fic so, you know. Take care of yourself and be good to others.

When Graham Peters was a child, he knew he would be king.

When he had grown some, enough to understand how his world worked, he conceded that the only caveat he would accept was that the qualifier "a" and not "the" might preceed his title.

His world became extraordinarily more enjoyable once he realised what his life was to be. He was not close to his peers because he was above them: a king does not entertain the existence of friends - meerly holds court with associates, allies and enemies.

How he thrilled when he understood that society was something he could create. Factions, wars, religions zealously protected, all manipulated by his word. His say. To cast a man into exile for a simple slight; to raise a man above his station for quick work well done. All this belonged to Graham. His whims were laws and his fancies were gospel.

And then to graduate from schoolboy turf wars into real politics, just as his ancestors had taught him! Petty jealousies held against him for pranks in their younger years, employed as allegations like a handful of nails cast into the road. It barely slowed him. For what care does a king have that the horse's hooves bleed, or that the driver is damned to debt?

These years he bouyed through like a Captain who only knows smooth sailing. Wind in the sails and a clear heading. He had his destiny mapped, and the route, though complex and laden with savage obstacle, would forever remain in his favour.

And then there were his women. His sister and his strays, all three snide and serious. Graham was not a stupid man. He understood that a King was only as capable as his Queen. What, after all, had doomed Troy but a woman?

His sister could not be queen of his household, no, but she understood his court. Operated, throughout his education, as his feminine touch. Brought him his intelligence from places a King cannot broach, and slid rumours only believed from the voice of an innocent. The voice of the mother of the child in the country's womb. A future wife to some loyal servant and thus necessary to keep in good graces. Good, old Mary: sometimes unwieldy in her vitriol, but otherwise ideal in her plain and unattractive nature.

His men thought him the fool to keep two bitches by his side. Two who especially seemed inclined only to yapping at one another, nipping at his heel in demand of his attention, destroying the tableware out of some small attempt to mark their territory. But Graham understood these girls because he had seen their type bicker and fight throughout his life.

It was all very well keeping by your side a loyal woman: quiet and reserved, the kind you expected to sink into the backdrop so efficiently one's enemies forgot to check for eavesdroppers, but it was quite another to let the mutineers damn themselves with their audacity. He knew malcontent by its fetid smell, could hear treason in the silences. And his two strays, with their roiling hatred, would eventually turn on their King like the dogs they were. They knew his power, and they knew only one could shed the shackles of indignity and ascend to his service; their true purpose achieved.

All this passes through Graham's consciousness as he understands that he is to die on this godforsaken hill, in this nasty little country, no closer to being a King than he had been as a boy.

He wants to rally against the ingrates: to curse their names and damn them to a fate worse than his. He wants to wonder if he is to be buried in the ashes of his exotic, bullet-strewn manor house, feeding the ground of a country that has bled him dry, or if his sister can find some way - any way - of bringing him home so he can rest eternally, as he had always hoped, amongst his fellow men, buried in their Royal sanctuaries. He wants to wonder if he would prefer a grave under the quiet green hills of home.

What he does wonder is if Alestes is alive. He wonders where he went wrong. He wonders if - as a King, a God might take his life for hers. He understands, as he dies, that this is not the correct thought to have. A King is buried with his belongings and his servants, and so it is Just that Alestes dies with him. That they can be buried together, here or in London, and that this final act will be his coronation.

It dawns on him that he is going to die, and in that moment he would give anything to have been fated to have been born to be a man and not a king. What a fool he had been, to craft a death like this! A man can live a long and weighty life but a king? A king is doomed to tragedy. Alestes, about to choose him over that bastard Baker, Mary, on the verge of her final submission to his grand plan, and Anh, nearly dead by his Alestes' hands.

Tragedians, playwrights and Gods punish Kings for reaching too close to powers not meant for mortal hands. Unfair in their judgement because they themselves cannot grasp the very concept of Worth.

But Graham is worthy. He has always known this of himself. And so he is doomed, not because he is a King of false pretences, but because to his bitter end, though he weeps for Alestes, he takes the time to consider how best to convince the angels soon to greet him that a King amongst men deserves the status of a god amongst Gods.

[clairelsonao3]

Happy Tuesday!!

Do you find AO3 OC friendly?

Also -

What scenes do you find the hardest to write?

Do you find AO3 OC friendly?

Happy Tuesday (Wednesday now!) Thanks for the ask! Wow, that's quite the question! Back when the Reddit Ao3 board was still a thing, I used to see questions like this a lot from people wondering whether Ao3 is a good place to post your original fiction. And my answer is always an overwhelming YES, with a few caveats.

My journey posting original fic on Ao3 has been overwhelmingly positive; the response has been beyond my wildest dreams, considering I only started posting Good Slaves Never Break the Rules as an experiment to see if anyone would read it. Over 3,000 hits may not sound like a lot when compared to fanfics from huge fandoms and popular pairings, but for original fiction, it is. And part of the beauty of Ao3 (as opposed to some other sites :cough: Wattpad) it has no algorithm that insists on only showing you what IT wants you to read instead of what YOU want to read. Thanks to the tagging and search system, everyone has an equal chance to be seen, and you almost certainly WILL get readers no matter what. Furthermore, some of my favorite fiction I've found in recent years has been original fiction I found on Ao3. There's great stuff out there!

You'll sometimes see people try to argue that original fiction goes against the Ao3 terms of service. Do NOT listen to these people. The ToS explicitly allows original works that are "fannish in nature," but the ToS also doesn't specify what makes a work "fannish in nature," which essentially means that they're leaving it up to you to determine that. In other words, you CANNOT be reported or kicked off the site for posting original fiction, as long as you're not violating any other part of the ToS. I feel like that's very important, because as writers we tend to stress about this kind of thing unnecessarily.

That said, Ao3 is, and will always remain a fanfic-focused site. For a writer of original fiction who obviously wants eyeballs on their work, that means that you have to keep in mind that the audience will largely be looking for the same tropes they look for in fanfic. (And of course, just as in fanfic, porn without plot tends to get the most hits of all [although surprisingly few comments], but for the sake of this post, I'll assume you're not writing porn and are writing standard fiction, whether or not it includes spicy scenes).

For example, GSNBTR, is a romance with slavery, whump, hurt/comfort, smut, angst, and pining/idiots in love, which are all tropes that show up frequently in fanfic and tend to be fairly popular there. That means that if readers are searching for those tropes in general and not in any particular fandom (which they do more often than you would think!), they'll come across my work. If your work doesn't have popular fanfic tropes (or doesn't mention them in the tags), it will be at a slight disadvantage, but it doesn't mean you're doomed. (If I'd included a tag like, say, BDSM, I'd probably have 10 times the hits I currently do😬). That's just simply the nature of the site. People are looking for certain things and they reward writers who give them those things.

So my first caveat is that if you're writing romance, Ao3 is THE best place to post your work if you want the best chance of finding an audience. However, if your story is fantasy or sci-fi and contains no romance or isn't focused on romance, you may want to check out another site like Royal Road, which is more focused on those genres and has a slightly different audience (I've read that the audience there skews male whereas Ao3 skews female, which would make a lot of sense). RR also has the added advantage that it allows you to monetize your work if that's something that interests you, whereas Ao3 (understandably given its fanfic focus) disallows that.

My second caveat concerns tagging. I gave myself a further advantage by learning how the Ao3 tagging system worked and using it effectively. That means tagging using standardized tags (many of the most popular of which can be found on this page), tagging using terms that people might actually search for, and not rambling in the tags (which just makes your tags harder to parse and doesn't help more people find your work). You can do this even if your work doesn't contain a lot of the most popular tags!

Thanks so much for the question, and I really hope this monster of answer helps! A good portion of what I currently read is original fic I found on Ao3, and for that reason, I think the site needs more, not less! Good luck with your journey!

What scenes do you find the hardest to write?

Sometimes spicy scenes are the hardest to write because well, you have to be in the mood for that! Other times scenes that require a lot of description to set the scene I don't find particularly fun, and usually, I save that type of writing for last (I think dialogue is the most fun, so I usually write that first!) Or sometimes, scenes I really WANT to write but I'm unsure whether I'll be able to pull it off, so I procrastinate. It depends on my mood!

[doom-at-your-service-fan-fiction]

Resonance

Chapter 18 - Sillage

[2ndhand-heart]

Chapter 1

Two Years, Eight Months and A Day

Camera shutters and indistinct chatters were all he could hear as he fixed the cuff of his left sleeve on his way out of the dressing room. It took him right back to that moment nearly three years ago, when he was munching on some boiled chicken breast as what his diet required back then, while his staff patiently waited for him to finish eating so he could finally get fully dressed, instead of wearing a pair of sweatpants as bottoms for his tuxedo ensemble.

And just like then, he felt like only one of his lungs was functional as he walked down this hall with bated breath.

No matter how many times he had done this before, whether as a presenter or as a nominee, he still had the same tendency to get all wired up and edgy when attending an awards show like this. It's probably something he would never get used to until he was old and grey.

So he continued walking ahead of his staff members who were trailing behind him with their StoryJ camera. They were told by the event organizers to maintain an ample distance to make sure that they would not be captured should the event photographers need to snap some candid shots of him making his way to the main auditorium.

And as expected, he was intercepted just as he was making a turn at the bottom of the stairwell that led to the mezzanine floor, which served as the touch up area for tonight's presenters. 

So he halted promptly and stood to the side as instructed, while another actor was still being photographed in front of the backdrop, and another one was still in line before it was his turn. 

Like a defense mechanism to his impending jitters, his eyes started to wander around the venue as he stood by. He unwittingly looked up at the light fixtures that were hanging from the acoustic panels on the ceiling and followed the wavy wooden trail all the way to the top of the mezzanine floor. 

But perhaps, the universe had a sense of humor. Only instead of making him laugh, he was the punchline. 

Because out of all the things his gaze could land on, it had to be the smile of that one person whose eyes had given him countless micro heart attacks in the past just by staring up at him.  

Now how was that for placating his nerves?

He had no idea that she was going to be here. But given the place where she was currently seated while getting her hair and makeup done, he figured that she must be one of tonight's award presenters.

Now, she wasn't exactly in a suitable location to be able to look up at him like he was accustomed to. If anything, her elevated stance afforded him the convenience of being able to look up at her instead, without her noticing. But how come it affected him just the same?

Probably because it had been a while since he last saw her smiling like that. And with that thought in mind, he began to calculate the days in his head from when he actually last saw her. 

It's been two years, eight months, and a day.

Yet with minimal makeup, hair that was still bunched up in a bun while she tucked a stray strand behind her ear, and her signature eye smile, she was beaming brighter than all the light fixtures that were hanging from the acoustic panels on the ceiling combined. He could only see half of her beautiful face, but she looked so happy from where he stood.

So before he could get himself to look away, he allowed himself to stare just for another second. To once again behold the smile that he was once allowed to see almost on a daily basis for more than six months some years ago. The eye smile that once induced a compulsion in him to keep making silly jokes. The smile that would probably lose its radiance if he got caught staring. 

Just then he was called to stand in front of the backdrop to get his photo taken. He bowed politely before he started to wave his left hand as he posed for countless cameras, notwithstanding the flashes of lights that barely blinded him with every click, gracing every lense with his ever captivating squint and dimpled grin.

________________________________________________

The last time she walked up this podium, she also came from backstage rather than the carpeted treads from the front. The only difference was that this time, she sauntered alone into the stage instead of her hand clutching onto the sleeve of someone's arm. 

Her entrance was graceful but nothing grand. She was her usual poised and polished public figure self, yet the audience's response to her presence was nothing short of uproarious. 

But it wasn't all that surprising considering the span of time that had passed since she last appeared in public like this. She was notorious for her long hiatus after working on a project, but her comeback was always highly anticipated. Not to mention that other than the event organizers, no one else knew that she would be attending as presenter tonight. Hence the warm welcome from her colleagues from the industry who made up a vast majority of the crowd. 

So she scanned the audience with her darling smile that effectively concealed the fact that at this very moment, she was a bundle of nerves. Not because of her task as a presenter, no it was never that. This was always so easy for her to pull off like the pro she was, and the confidence of the committee in her proficiency despite her last minute delegation was the ultimate proof. 

So, what was she covertly being so restless for?

It's just really cold when my shoulders are exposed like this, she thought to herself.

But then her gaze inevitably fell on the very table she was hoping to avoid. And there he was, looking up at her with that solitary speck underneath his left eye amplifying the noise in her ear that only she could hear. 

But where was the divot in the corner of his lips that was supposed to show up even at the moments that he least intended it to?

She knew then that that smile was outright spurious. So she furtively took a deep breath and subtly averted her gaze to the next table.

When the peals of approval had finally died down, she made a quick formal introduction of herself as the presenter of the best actor category.

"And the nominees are," she smiled as she glanced at the audience then back to the card in her hand. 

The humongous LCD screen on the other side of the stage started playing clips from each of the nominees' dramas to showcase the scenes that got them nominated for the award. 

She slightly turned her head to her right to watch the clips together with the audience without completely turning her back on them. This was all a part of her well rehearsed stage decorum that had kept her presenting reputation up with the leagues. 

When the last clip popped up on the screen showing a familiar scene that nearly cost her one of her lungs from laughing too hard when she first watched it, she couldn't help but let out a chuckle while covering her mouth with her hand that was holding the card with the list of nominees. Funny how it was the only scene with a comical element out of all the clips that were shown, only proving how comedic timing was just as difficult to pull off as any other emotionally heavy scenes.

She remembered how she swore off watching that show before it even aired then watching every new episode as soon as it came out. 

But what else could she do? It was the closest thing to seeing him back then.

After all the clips had finished playing, she turned back to the audience and resumed her presenter self. 

"And the best actor is," she hyped the audience with her adorable smile as she peeled off the sticker from the card in her hand to reveal the winner's name. Her breath hitched in her throat upon seeing what was written on the card. So in the most impassive manner that she could manage, she announced, "Seo In Guk as Nam Han Joon for Minamdang."

[princessofxianle]

Do you mind if I ask your top 10 favorite characters (can be male or female) from all of the media that you loved (can be anime/manga, books, movies or tv series)? And why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before.....Thanks...

well THANK YOU for asking, you are the first to!

tbh ive been meaning to do this on my main blog bc I take these wayyy too seriously lol but ANYWAY heres my top 10 faves (in no particular order) that I can think of (tbh theres prob more i forgot about, or i wanted to keep only 1 per fandom... except tgcf)

Huge Spoiler Warning: for ALL of tgcf, 2ha, aot, AND JJK MANGA!!!

1. Feng Xin (tgcf)

do i even need to explain this one? loyal to a fault, just a cute lil puppy, one hell of a sculpted archers back, and he's head over heels in love with Xie Lian (but tbh same) i have a lot of thoughts about him on a daily basis on this blog (and also theres the #fx backstory au tag)

2. Noé Archiviste (the Case Study of Vanitas)

MY BABY

the absolute bestest boy of EVER... with a LOAD of unprocessed trauma (yknow the typical stuff like seeing your childhood bff get decapitated in front of you) and a lot more to come once we find out how he kills his boyfriend best friend, Vanitas...

i ALSO think about him a lot but over on @noes-pillow

3. Sejanus Plinth (The Hunger Games: tbosas)

hated reading as a child... HATED it... picked up the og trilogy when i was 12 and i was a goner. The funny thing is i still hated reading for YEARS up until i picked up the prequel novel then in 2020, and now ive read all of tgcf, 2ha, and more fanfic than i could ever imagine... all because this stupid boy (i love him) chose to trust the WORST person as his friend, rip sejanus my baby

the movie is v good btw, if you havent seen it you should

4. Xie Lian (tgcf)

*Taizi Dianxia Fang Xin Guoshi General Hua Xie Lian*

how this man survived 800 years of being physically unable to die and never went insane is a mystery i will never be able to fully comprehend (aaand im in love with him... hmm i wonder why...)

5. Mihael "Mello" Keehl (Death Note)

the chocolate-addicted blonde boi that was my first anime crush... by proxy I must also add Mail "Matt" Jeevas because they are a package deal

these two are also the reason i started writing fanfic so they will ALWAYS hold a special place in my heart

6. Xue Meng - (2ha)

*sigh* he's just everyone's fav peacock (yes technically the image is XM 0.5 but he had a cool ass bird so im using this photo bc its COOL anyway...) mengmeng is another one of my trauma bois who has lost next to everything and yet is STILL kicking ass and taking names #thatsmyfuckingsectleader so proud of you my son

also this might get me into hot water here but imma go ahead and say it...

this is what i wanted Jiang Cheng to be... (i LOVE my angy grape but...) through thick and thin, despite EVERYTHING, and even mo ran fucking abandoning him he will still call mo ran his "ge"...

fgjhdfhfdg THEYRE BROTHERS, OKAY???

7. Howl Pendragon (Howl's Moving Castle)

ok this one i just simply do not need to explain... if you think i do, go watch this whole movie and then there ya go thats your answer...

GENDER

8. River Song (Doctor Who)

aside from being the character that unlocked my unhealthy obsession with :) Main Character Death :) at the ripe ol' age of 8 YEARS (although Will Turner from POTC also helped on that front... Orlando Bloom my beloved) River's story was a stroke of absolute GENIUS from start to finish and i simply love how Alex Kingston played her...

"You don't expect a sunset to admire you back."

I just love the doomed ones, okay...

9. Satoru Gojo (Jujutsu Kaisen)

look... theres *gojo girlies* uwu and then theres GOJO GIRLIES... i couldn't give 2 shits about how he's fan-serviced (tho im not complaining) but have you SEEN the amount of grief pumped into that man? he could explode in a fit of fucking insanity at literally any moment and take the whole goddamn world down with him bc what happened with suguru WASNT FAIR to him and satoru has more than enough power to go apeshit... but he DOESN'T... even after losing so many of his co-sorcerers... he still puts on a brave face to the end in order to protect the childhood of his students even tho his own youth was stolen from him during hidden inventory...

SEE? The DOOMED ones!

10. Levi Ackerman (Attack on Titan)

i read the manga during my last year of uni and when i tell you i SOBBED at the end... yes ofc for obvious reasons, but mostly bc my little Levi loses EVERYTHING. He is the SOLE survivor of the veteran scouts. He's missing multiple fingers, an eye, and the ability to walk. He was the strongest (yowaimo) but wasn't even granted the mercy to die at the end of his narrative! Broke my fucking heart.

BONUS: Morph (Treasure Planet)

he's a morph!!! nuff said <3

fin

[thedeliverygod]

hi sora! just wondering if you're still writing noragami fics? I read 'good enough' and 'more than this' recently and I'm obsessed :D but take your time, of course <3

Hey~~

so of course I'll still be writing fanfics but both my mental and physical health have been constant struggles in the past few years. Especially from symptoms of hypothyroidism which have only gotten worse over time (fatigue as well as I guess a sort of brain fog/unable to really focus on anything for long periods of times)

so I've only been managing to write small things and posting them a handful of times a year.

As much as I loved Good Enough, honestly I'm not sure if I have enough of a mix of ideas & motivations to continue More Than This. That could change of course, but that's why it's been on hiatus for however long.

I am currently working on a sort of 'alternate' ending for Noragami and I've also been passively working on an AU based on the kdrama "Doom At Your Service" which I have an outline/notes and some of a first chapter written but that's also been in the works for months so lol.

I hope as my condition improves I will have the energy to go back to doing hobbies I love because it has been tough.

[crotchety-old-emu]

tag game!

tagged by: @colettebronte many thanks <3

name: crotchety old emu

pronouns: she/her

where do you call home: flanders, belgium

favorite animal: foxes. borzoi. and giraffes. and crows. and cats. to be fair, if it's not an insect (and even then, i'm quite fond of bees), it's probably one of my favourite animals.

cereal of choice: it used to be creamy berry crunch special k (i think it's now called fruit and yogurt?), but it's been discontinued in belgium. i think my second favourite is probably lion cereal.

visual, auditory, or kinesthetic learner: in most things, kinesthetic learning. if we're talking about actual studying, i need to write everything down.

first pet: a goldfish called jonas, which i got at the fair many moons ago.

favorite scent: perfume-wise, i like light and fresh scents -sadly, i'm allergic to most perfumes. as for scented candles and the like, i'm sadly unoriginal and really enjoy vanilla.

do you believe in astrology: i enjoy entertaining it in discussions, but i don't believe in it at all.

how many playlists do you have on your music service of choice: 2. one with pretty much every taylor swift-song ever. another one with lofi music for when i need to work, concentrate or wind down.

sharpies or highlighters: highlighters. the pastel ones.

song that makes you cry: i usually avoid those? the first that comes to mind is "bigger than the whole sky" by taylor swift.

song that makes you happy: "africa" by toto. instant happiness.

and finally, do you write/draw/create: i dabble in writing. i've written some fanfic and a couple of school plays. i draw badly sometimes. i like handlettering.

tagging but no pressure: everyone who feels like it, but i'll tag @princessgotham21, @anowlfulpun and @doom-cookie1

[vikingpoteto]

tag game!

I was tagged by @alyikav! Thank you so much by the way I am a slut for tag games, love doing these

3 ships: Trunks x Goten from Dragon Ball Z are my main right now, but you might have also noticed that I have a thing for blond x green haired guys, as my other mains are Zoro x Sanji (One Piece) and Hyoga x Shun (Saint Seiya)

first ever ship: If we're digging really deep... it was Videl x Gohan from Dragon Ball Z. I used to imagine fanfic for them before I knew what fanfic was.

last song: Moon by (G)I-dle

last movie: Not much of a movie person, so I think the last I've watched was maybe the Barbie movie?

currently reading: The Midnight Club by Christopher Pike

currently watching: okay so I just started watching One Piece again don't judge me. I'm also watching Doom at your service, All of us are dead and My adventures with Superman.

currently consuming: air? It was modern philosopher Miranda Cosgrove that first said live life, breathe air, so-

currently craving: Cake. I know I should lower my sugar intake but I really want some chocolate cake right now.

No pressure tags (feel free to ignore!) @buticaaba, @arataka-reigen, @vioislit, @robiinjason, @noirpunkvamp, @fantasy-hill