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causeilikelix · 4 months

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Rose Garden - Part Two

↳Pairing: Prince!Lee Know x Maid!afab reader

↳Words: 12,500~ (oops)

↳Warnings: SMUT obviously so as always minors DNI, unprotected sex (don't do this! but its not like these two had any other choice), p in v sex, oral (m and f receiving), fingering (f receiving), creampie, overall very vanilla stuff. Mentions of nausea but no one does on-screen. (For someone with emetophobia, I write about nausea a lot). Pregnancy scare?, ANGST

If there's anything else I missed, let me know!

TAGLIST: @ohmy-moonlightx , @junebug032 , @giyusatorou , @skzfelixlove , @kittkat44 , @nap-of-a-starr, @ventitto , @blankdyean , @lethallyprotected , @poisonivy21 , @nobody3210 , @chuuswifereal , @hisokasimp1, @lookitsjess

(Strikethrough means unable to tag, if I forgot someone or would like to be added then please let me know!)

↳Notes: I finished this first week of May then got taken out by a mystery illness for basically the whole month (respiratory infection I think). Anyway, today is my 27th birthday so I am giving all of you a gift!

PART ONE

↳Ready on my AO3: Here

“CAN’T YOU BE more gentle?” You groaned as your ribcage tightened. With every tug of the laces on that infernal corset, your ribs condensed and your breasts swelled. You could have sworn that a seamstress could thread you through a needle at this rate. You often wore a corset of your own to work, but it was more for general support than to actually suck you into the point of suffocation. The whale bone threaded through the offensive garment assured you that once you were in, nothing would move.

“That’s how this works, Y/N. You should know, you entrap me in my corset every morning.” Joy muttered through gritted teeth. Her fingers worked on the laces to make sure they were perfectly snug and not going anywhere. “It’s not so bad once you get used to it.”

“I can hardly breathe.” You gasped out.

“Maybe so but you will be the picture of perfection. This dress is going to look amazing on you.” Joy promised.

Your eyes darted to the dress laid out on the bed. For the day, the queen had assigned guest quarters to every visiting lady with the invitation to spend the night if it fit in the travel plans. Joy, of course, had jumped at the opportunity for a night away from home. Especially if that night was to be spent dancing away at the palace. That meant the pair of you had a private bedroom that could be used to change your identity. The grand four-poster bed was large enough to sleep four comfortably. You had a feeling that she would insist on sharing the bed with you. Poor thing never did like sleeping alone. You didn’t mind.

“What is wrong with you?” You panted. Your lungs worked overtime to get used to being in such a compact space. “How can you people wear this all the time?”

“They train us young.” Joy muttered. “Aha! Done! Let’s get you into this gown, shall we?”

Before you knew it, you were drowning in a sea of blue and pink fabric. The skirts were never ending and created a full ball gown silhouette, though your bone underskirt held most of the fabric away from your legs. The gown was made of rich peacock-blue silk and layers of delicate tulle that sparkled and shimmered under the light. Silver lace appliques decorated the bodice and the top half of the skirt. Some light tulle fabric hung just off your shoulders, creating a sweetheart off-the-shoulder neckline. You had to admit that the colors were absolutely stunning. It didn’t feel right that someone like you should wear a gown so beautiful.

However, once the garment was secured in place with some lacing, you fell in love with it. The gown hugged your waist and pushed your breasts up just enough. The skirts swished when you moved and glittered in the light.

“Y/N,” Joy breathed, “You look beautiful. Come, let me do your hair and put on your jewelry.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one getting you ready?” You asked as Joy guided you to sit down at the vanity.

“There is time for that. There’s no harm in being a little late if we need to. The ball will undoubtedly go all night.” Joy waved it off. She pointed at a hairbrush on the table and you passed it over your shoulder to her. “All of that playing dress up when we were kids was totally worth it.”

“Ow…” You muttered under your breath as Joy brushed out the tangles in your hair.

“I wonder who the Queen chose to be the princess. Surely it’s not me or we would have received some sort of notification.” Joy mused as she ran the brush through your hair. “I wonder why they would have all of these lavish parties if they’re not going to choose one of the ladies who attends them. Whoever the princess is surely is very lucky. Prince Minho is quite handsome and I’m sure he will make beautiful babies and-”

“Miss Joy. My apologies but I’m nervous enough as it is. I’m terrified of being in the same room as the prince.” You cut her off, wincing as you did so. Your training clearly specified never to interrupt your lady but all this talk of Prince Minho marrying someone else was beginning to make your heart feel heavy in your chest.

You hadn’t found the time to tell Joy about what happened. You wanted to scream it out to the world that Prince Minho was your soulmate but there was no telling if anyone would even believe you. When you first met him, he was trying to escape from his duty but after he fucked you he dove head-first into it. You wondered if someone could die from having their soulmate marry someone else.

In the end, it would all come down to if Prince Minho would confirm the fact that you were soulmates. If he were to deny you then you would have to live your life without your other half. The difference in status would make any kind of relationship difficult regardless of Prince Minho’s feelings.

You weren’t sure if you had the strength to go through with this facade but you were already dressed. You’d already made the decision. You couldn’t back down now. The dress was on and Joy was carefully putting your hair in a simple updo. She took a few pins from the hair kit you brought for her. Each pin had a diamond on the end. The hairdo you had planned for Joy would use most of the pins, so as she worked on your hair you tried to think of what style you could do instead.

“Y/N, are you okay? Your head is up in the clouds.” Joy’s voice softened.

“Yes, miss. I am merely thinking about what hairstyle to do for you.”

“No, I don’t think you are. You’ve been gone since Prince Minho’s appearance at tea. Are you alright?”

“Miss… I don’t know. I feel strange. I think me coming with you was a terrible idea.”

“What? How could you say that! I don’t know what I would do without you by my side!.”

“If I hadn’t come then I never would have-” You paused to blink back your tears. Joy paused her styling with a quiet gasp, “I never would have met…”

“Who is it?” Joy whispered knowingly.

“I can’t tell you. It would ruin...”

“Y/N, dear, please tell me.” Joy moved to your side and bent over to be at your level, “I promise there is nothing you could say that would make me think less of you.”

“It’s not me it would ruin. It’s him. He and I can never be together.”

“Y/N, please.” Joy reached up and gently brushed away a few of the tears that had escaped your eyes. You couldn’t stop crying. “Tell me and maybe I can help you.”

You looked her in the eye, hoping that maybe she could read your mind. You and Joy had been friends for as long as you could remember. You grew up in the same house. Your mother was Joy’s mother’s maid. You, in turn, became Joy’s. Even as a maid, Joy always preferred to treat you as a friend.

To no avail. Joy remained clueless.

“He’s…” you took a deep breath, “My soulmate is… Prince Minho.”

Joy’s jaw dropped. She stumbled back a bit and sat down hard on the bed. She stared at you with wide eyes. If only, that made you cry harder. At this rate she would never allow you to go to the ball. Who in their right mind would let you attend a ball when your soulmate was the prince?

“Do not lie to me, Y/N.” Joy warned.

“Have you ever known me to lie to you?”

“I suppose not. You’re sure it’s him?”

“After what we did in the garden, I would know him anywhere.”

“My god, you performed the soulmate act already?” Joy gawked, her eyes swimming with questions. “Tell me everything.”

“I don’t know…”

“I am asking as a friend, Y/N, but I will ask as your lady if I have to.”

“Okay, well… I wandered off. I didn’t mean to! But I needed a break from the sun and-”

You told her the story from beginning to finish. Meeting him in the garden and thinking he was the gardener, the accidental touch, the intensity of the soulmate act, and the way he’d turned cold afterwards. You explained how you’d searched for him and how your stomach had churned when he was announced as the Prince.

“It’s all hopeless!” You wailed, dropping your tear-stained cheeks into your hands, “We can never be together. After tonight I may never see him again!”

“Perhaps not… But what say you to see if we can get you two to meet one last time. At least share some words, a kiss, something!”

“How would we do that? He doesn’t know who I am. He doesn’t know my name or anything.”

“You’re going to the ball tonight, of course he’ll find you! If he doesn’t then I will speak to him. I will tell him his angel is looking for him. Come on, my dear, let’s get you looking perfect!”

~!~!~!~!~!~

YOU WERE CERTAIN that you were going to pass out at any moment. The corset was bound too tightly and it was as if you were walking through hell’s inferno. In reality you were only walking down a long corridor warmed with fireplaces, but it may as well have been the same thing.

A finely dressed butler escorted you and Joy through the palace to the ballroom. Joy held your hand as you walked, her grip like an iron vice. She looked beautiful. Once it was your turn to make her up, her hair was worthy of the princess’s tiara. Her forest green ballgown was made of the finest silk that rippled like water when she walked. She held her head high and turned to look at you with a bright smile.

“You would fit right in here.” Joy whispered lowly so the butler couldn’t hear your conversation.

“Maybe in the kitchens.” You sighed. “You look more like a princess than I do.”

“Nonsense. I wasn’t born to be a princess, unlike you.”

“Lady Joy, I definitely was not born to be a princess. Maybe the gods made a mistake. They’ve been known to do that, right?”

“There is no way this is a mistake. It’s clear that you belong here! You’re the most beautiful noblewoman I’ve ever seen, cousin!” Joy squeezed your hand pointedly.

Muffled music played through the doors and you suddenly felt sick. You pressed a hand to your stomach and stopped walking. Joy stopped as well. The butler continued on for a few steps before realizing that you weren’t following.

“I can’t do this.”

“Y/N! Are you with child?” Joy whispered and nodded to the hand on your stomach.

“What? No! It only happened this afternoon. It takes longer to develop a child. I’m just sick to my stomach.”

“It’s only nerves. Once we get into the ballroom, everything will be okay. We’ll dance a little bit and then we’ll enact the plan, alright?”

“I can’t. This was a terrible idea, let me go back to the room and-”

“No! Y/N, no! Just take a deep breath. I’ll be right there by your side the entire time.” Joy promised, “Let’s go.”

She pulled you along and the butler continued leading you through the palace. The music got louder and louder until the butler paused at a large set of double doors. Joy turned to smile at you one last time before looking forward.

A pair of butlers opened the doors, revealing a lavish, golden ballroom. Several crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling with candles casting flickering rainbows on the walls. The dance floor was packed with ladies and gentlemen alike, dancing away in celebration. A handful of musicians played a waltz.

Your eyes were immediately drawn to a raised platform at the back of the room. A triad of ornate golden thrones with purple velvet and diamonds were perched atop. In the center throne, a woman in an enormous embroidered gown with a huge crown atop her head tapped her fingers to the time of the music; the Queen. To her left sat the young princess, no older than fifteen but old enough to be at her brother’s party. She stared out into the crowd with a polite smile. Then, your gaze landed on the man you wanted to see.

Prince Minho sat to his mother’s right. He wore the same outfit as before, except he’d taken his crown off and hung it off one of the posters of his throne. He lounged a bit in his chair, not really paying attention to anyone around him. He sipped on a goblet of wine. The prince, instead, stared at the ceiling.

He looked just as beautiful as the moment you first saw him. Something about the candlelight made his skin glow.

You sucked in a breath when you laid eyes on him. It took every ounce of self control in your body and Joy’s hand to keep you from running through the ballroom to be with him. Something tugged on your heart like an invisible string, urging you forward.

When you stepped through the door into the ballroom, Prince Minho cocked his head suddenly. He turned his gaze away from the ceiling and scanned the throngs of dancing people. He scoured the dancers before turning his attention to the walls. Servants were stationed by the wall or in the corners where they couldn’t be easily seen unless you were looking for them. Just out of sight, but there in case they were needed. Prince Minho searched the face of each one until his gaze passed over the doors you’d just walked through.

Then came the double take. He looked on the other side of the room for a moment before turning his head back in your direction.

When you made eye contact, you gasped and gripped Joy’s hand a little tighter. Joy immediately snapped her head to look at the prince. She followed his gaze and found you as the person in question. He raised an eyebrow in question but said nothing. He knew your true stature but he was in no position to tell anyone anyway.

“Come, let’s find something to eat. You need your energy.” Joy whispered, pulling your attention away from the Prince.

“But… Prince Minho…”

“There will be time for that. We have hours before the Prince will retire. He’s seen you, so there is no doubt in my mind that he will seek you out.” Joy assured you.

She pulled you through the ballroom to a dining room. There were several tables lined with food piled high on silver platters. Dishes like pork, chicken, rolls, roasted vegetables, you name it. Instantly, your mouth watered. You could not remember the last time you broke fast and your dehydration this morning left you with a pounding headache.

“I am pretty hungry…” You mused.

“Let’s get you something to eat and then I’ll tell you everything about my plan.”

~!~!~!~!~!~

JOY’S SUGGESTION DIDN’T sit right with you at first, but she eventually convinced you to dance with the very first man who asked. You’d barely caught the man’s name, Christopher something-or-other. He was staggeringly handsome, though he could hold no candle to your Destined.

Christopher spun you around the dancefloor for two whole dances. He was careful to keep his touches over your clothes but you noticed that his eyes kept dipping down to your mouth and to the swell of your breasts out of the dress. You wore long silver satin gloves up to your forearms, as was the fashion and the social assurance that no one could find their soulmate at these social events unless you tried really hard.

At the end of the second dance, a whirlwind of a waltz (where you definitely stepped on his foot more than once), you were beginning to feel a little out of breath. Joy was off dancing with another man, a complete heartthrob who had introduced himself as Peter. Joy had promised that she would watch you all evening, but Peter had her absolutely captivated.

Christopher gazed down at you with big, brown puppy dog eyes. He pursed his lips before opening his mouth to ask you to dance a third time. However, a terse voice cut through the atmosphere.

“Sir Christopher, do you mind if I cut in?” The voice sent a shiver down your spine. You would recognize it, recognize him, anywhere.

“Oh. Um, of course, Sire.” Christopher bowed before disappearing into the crowd.

Prince Minho took his place in front of you. You looked at him for a moment before dropping into a deep curtsy. Your eyes turned to the floor. Your heart pounded so loudly in your chest that you thought you might faint.

In an instant, Prince Minho was touching you. He put his hands on your shoulders to pull you out of the curtsy and one of his hands moved to your chin. With his soft fingers, he guided your face until you were looking directly into his eyes. The same grief from this afternoon clouded them and his eyebrows were pulled together.

The music started and other couples around you began to dance. Skirts swirled, girls giggled, shoes tapped on the wooden dance floor. However, none of that mattered. The outside world became a blur until the only thing you could see was the man in front of you.

He called you an angel before, but you were certain that the angel was actually Prince Minho. He glowed under the candlelight and his crown looked like a halo. Prince Minho grasped your waist and took your hand. You gasped at the contact.

“Take my arm.” He commanded. You quickly set your hand on his shoulder.

Before you knew it, Prince Minho spun you into the crowd of dancers. How he managed to lead without taking his eyes off yours, you may never know. You had so many questions but you had absolutely no idea where to even begin. All you knew for sure is that this would most likely be the last time you ever saw him.

“What’s your name?” Prince Minho asked.

“Y/N.”

“Beautiful. I knew your name would be beautiful.” A smile played on his lips, “How did you manage to come tonight? I thought you were a ladies maid.”

“I am. Lady Joy is more a friend than a lady. We grew up together. She asked me to come with her tonight.” You explained, your voice weak.

“Damn. I’d hoped that perhaps you’d fooled me in the garden. If you were a lady then my mother might have allowed us to marry.”

“Couldn’t we still pretend?”

“My mother, the Queen, is very resourceful. She would look into your family and find that you’re of common birth. Unless, of course, you can provide undeniable proof of noble birth.”

“I’m afraid I don’t think that will be possible.” Tears brimmed in your eyes at the thought.

You couldn’t explain it but your heart swelled with affection for him. You barely even know the man. However, you could practically feel every cell in your body aching for him and needing to be with him. His touch sent bolts of lighting through your veins. His lips were eye level with you and all you wanted to do was claim them as yours. Party-goers and the Queen be damned. This man was your soulmate and you wanted everyone to know.

“My love,” Prince Minho smiled sadly and moved his hand from your waist in order to brush away a tear that had fallen. He replaced his hand before you could fall out of step with the dance. “We will find a way. Maybe it won’t be today but I must have you by my side. I want to know everything about you. Please, my angel, don’t think of this as an ending. Merely a rocky and uncertain beginning.”

“How can you be optimistic about this?”

“I am a prince. We have a way of getting things done.” Prince Minho smiled warmly. The assurance that he was feeling the same way as you in this absurd situation made your heart ache a little less. “Dance the night away with me, my love.”

How could you possibly refuse him?

You spent the next three dances in the circle of your prince’s arms. Sir Christopher asked for your hand for one dance but Prince Minho stole you away the moment it was over. You twirled around the ballroom, talking and laughing with one another. He searched your mind, asking about your past, your family, your life. He wanted to know your favorite meals, your favorite colors, artists, and flowers. He, in turn, told you all about his favorites.

More and more things began to line up between the two of you. With every new thing in common, it became extremely apparent why he was your soulmate. He was your perfect match in every way. He was everything you ever could have wanted in a life partner. He was charming, witty, a fantastic dancer, and he cared deeply about his country and his duties.

Eventually, Prince Minho led you from the dance floor and onto the terrace outside. The air was cool against your skin and you hadn’t realized you’d been sweating. The party continued behind you, grand and gold. There were three sets of tall glass doors that were propped open between the terrace and the ballroom. There were fewer people outside, so it gave you and your Prince a quieter place to talk.

And talk you did. For hours it seemed, you spoke and shared things about your life. There wasn’t much for you to share but you wanted to know every detail about him.

“You must be dreading your marriage.” You sighed.

“I am… but I know it must be done. The last thing I want is to be with someone who isn’t my soulmate. However, I understand that it is what I must do. My father would have wanted me to do the same as him.” Prince Minho explained. “In the garden earlier, I was prepared to run away from it all. I still wish I could escape. However, now I know that I cannot escape my duty.”

“The same as your father? What do you mean by that?” You asked. You bit down the stinging pain in your chest from all the talk of him marrying another. Though, you had to admit that it made sense.

“My mother was not his soulmate, you see. He never told me who it was but I’m not sure that they ever got to be together before he died.”

“Your parents managed to have children, though! That is an accomplishment! I heard that fertility rates between non-soulmates is very low.”

“I think it worked because my mother has never met her soulmate. She truly loved my father and I believe that it was her love that made my sister and I come into existence. Or maybe it was pure luck.”

“Do you believe in true love? Love that isn’t born of soulmates?”

“Well, I suppose I’ve never thought about it. I don’t think that I have ever loved anyone before. I fancied a few of the ladies when I was younger, but I always knew that I would either find my soulmate one day or I would have to live without them.” Prince Minho gazed out into the garden. The paths were lined with torches that cast a golden glow on the ground. Two or three lone couples strolled through the garden.

“I apologize, My Prince. We can discuss something else.”

“Angel, it is alright. There is no way you could upset me.” Prince Minho assured you.

He reached out and cupped your cheek with his hand. He guided your head to make sure you were looking directly into his eyes. “This situation is less than ideal but it is in no way your fault. It’s crazy. It feels as if I’ve known you all my life.”

“I know… I wish I didn’t have to leave.”

“I wish you didn’t have to go.”

Minho guided your face a little closer to his and pressed a fleeting kiss onto your cheek. His soft lips lingered on your skin for a few long seconds. His musky scent filled your nose and overwhelmed your senses. You closed your eyes and breathed him in. Something deep in your core wished that he would have kissed your lips instead.

However, all good things come to an end.

“HEAR YE, HEAR YE.” A voice boomed from inside the ballroom, “ALL SUBJECTS APPEAR BEFORE THE QUEEN FOR AN IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT.”

Prince Minho pulled away from you and looked towards the ballroom. The music had stopped and all of the guests were venturing towards the center of the room to listen to the announcement. He turned to look back at you.

“It’s time, my love.” Prince Minho offered you his hand.

Your lower lip quivered and you blinked back the tears brimming in your eyes. You stared at his hand. You forced yourself to swallow a sob. Gently, you took his hand. He led you back into the ballroom. The stifling heat made it nearly impossible to breathe. Your chest ached. Your heart pounded in your ears.

Once you got deep enough into the room, Prince Minho pulled you to a careful stop. He looked deeply into your eyes for a few long seconds. You stared back, desperately trying to memorize the way his eyes glowed like honey in the candle light. They sparkled a little and with a start you wondered if he was about to cry.

“I’m going to miss you.” He whispered.

“And I you.”

He gently pulled you closer. You thought for a moment that he was going to kiss you. The air between you thinned as his face inched closer. He cupped your cheek in his hand and pressed your foreheads together.

“Your lady is Lady Joy, correct?”

“Lady Joy Park.” You affirmed.

“I will send for you this evening, my love. Fear not, this will not be the last time we see each other.”

With that, he vanished into the crowd. His hand dropped from your face and he let go of your hand. The other guests of the party bustled around you. The air in the ballroom ran hot, but you shivered. You searched the faces around you desperately, hoping that perhaps he would emerge from the crowd and come back to you.

Prince Minho did emerge from the crowd, but only when he stepped back up onto the platform and reclaimed his throne. His stoic face was set and he stared blankly into the crowd. Your eyes welled up with tears and you blinked to try to keep them at bay.

How were you supposed to go on without your soulmate? All you wanted to do was run up to the throne and tell the entire room that he was yours and that no one else could have him.

Almost as if she read your thoughts, Lady Joy appeared at your side. She took your hand and gave you a reassuring squeeze.

“How did it go?”

“I’ll tell you later.”

The Queen cleared her throat so loudly the chandeliers quivered. She rose to her feet and instantly all chatter in the room ceased. Someone coughed.

“It is with regret that I inform you that our dear prince has not found his soulmate.” The Queen began, “Despite all of our efforts to find his destined partner we were unsuccessful. However, we still have call for celebration this evening. I am happy to announce Prince Minho’s betrothal to Princess Anna from the Roman Kingdom! The nuptials will be held next week and invitations to the event and the following balls will be sent henceforth! They will honeymoon on the island Sicily, where our dear princess was born before they return home to us. Please, let us congratulate the lucky couple!”

Everyone in the room applauded politely. Prince Minho rose to his feet and bowed before sitting back down.

You were absolutely positive that you were going to be sick.

“Lady Joy?”

“Yes, Y/N?”

“Get me out of here.”

Joy wasted no time.

She tugged on your hand, urging you to follow her. She weaved through the crowd of people. On your way, the man you remembered as Lord Peter stopped Lady Joy. They whispered to each other for a few seconds, including something about a promise to see each other again soon. With that, Joy set off again. Lady Joy beelined towards the doors and urged the guards to open them. They gave her a puzzled look, but followed her silent command.

Your lady pulled you into the hallway and you couldn’t help but glance back one more time. To your relief, or perhaps horror, Prince Minho noticed the opening of the door and his gaze found you immediately. You locked eyes one last time before Lady Joy led you down the hall, out of sight.

The heavy doors slid shut behind you, the heavy thud making you wince.

How were you supposed to leave Prince Minho behind you?

~!~!~!~!~!~

“IS SHE QUITE well?” The butler’s concerned voice carried through the large bedroom. You heard him even over your crying. You sobbed into the pillow that was damp with your tears and yet you couldn’t stop. Your body shook with crying and you could not seem to stop it. Lady Joy stood at the door, accepting a pile of dry pillows that she’d requested after you’d dampened all of the others with your tears.

“She is well, do not worry.” Lay Joy assured him.

“Should I send for a doctor?”

“Heartbreak is something a doctor cannot fix, I’m afraid. I will call for you if we require anything else.”

With that, Lady Joy shut the door and made her way back to the bed. She tossed the pillows at the foot of the bed before climbing under the luxurious duvet with you. She wrestled with the neverending fabric of the blankets and her nightgown before she settled in and returned her attention to you.

Both of you had changed out of your ballgowns as soon as you’d returned to your quarters. You managed to hold back your tears just long enough to get out of your corset. Then the waterfall began and hadn’t stopped. Joy did her best. Supplying you with things to dry your eyes and drink to keep your body from drying up but there was only so much she could do.

You told her everything. You told her about the dancing, about your conversations, and about how Prince Minho promised that he would call for you. What made it worse is that it was hours ago. You’d already gone through at least half a candle, if not more. The music from the ball could be heard faintly through the window.

“Perhaps he’s still there. It would be rude of the host to leave prematurely.” Joy reminded you.

“I can’t help it! I don’t know what to do!”

“Oh, my dear Y/N, I wish I could help you.” Joy gently stroked your hair.

“Will the pain fade?”

“Perhaps with time. It’s getting late, Y/N… you look exhausted. Let’s try to sleep okay? In the morning we can escape from this wretched place.”

Your eyes ached from crying. Your cheeks were sticky with tears. Joy grabbed one of the dry pillows from the end of the bed and replaced the one you were using. She slipped out of bed once more to blow out all of the candles in the room.

Once the room was dark, Joy slipped back into bed with you. You buried your face into the pillow and sniffled. Your eyelids grew heavy and you begged sleep, or perhaps death, to overtake you. You squeezed your eyes shut and forced yourself to think of other things.

Tomorrow you would have to spend hours doing laundry. You would be washing all of the undergarments and skirts, ironing dresses, polishing jewels. The task would probably take the entire day. The banality of your day to day work would be sure to wipe away your feelings of dread.

It must have only been moments after you drifted into a restless sleep when someone pounded on the door. Your eyes shot open and you found Joy had also been startled awake. You stared at each other for a few seconds before the pounding on the door came again. Joy abruptly sat up. She wrestled with the blankets for a few long seconds before she successfully freed herself and hurried to the door.

You sat up when the door creaked open.

“Is there a young lady here by the name of Y/N?” A male voice spoke from beyond the door.

“Y/N… is there another name?” Joy asked.

“Angel. Prince Minho sends for her.”

You perked up immediately. You threw the blankets off and clamored out of bed. Joy put a hand up and you froze in place.

“Yes, sir, she is here. Please allow me a moment and I will fetch her.” Joy spoke calmly. You bounced on the balls of your feet.

“Yes, my Lady.”

Joy shut the door and turned to you, eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Y/N, take off your nightgown.” Joy stared at you expectantly for a few seconds. “Make haste!”

~!~!~!~!~!~

YOU CHEWED ON your lower lip as you stared at the large pair of ornate double doors. The butler who had been sent to get you waited patiently nearby, waiting for your command to open them. You couldn’t explain why the nerves and fear that overwhelmed your heart as the butler led you through the dark hallways of the palace.

Perhaps it was the silence. The butler didn’t say a word to you unless to remind you to follow him. Or it was the dark hallways, lit only with a few lone candles.

Or perhaps it was the nightgown that swirled about your ankles. Joy insisted on giving you hers. Your nightgown was a plain white smock but Joy’s was made of the finest pink satin and was decorated with lace and satin flowers. It came paired with a matching silk robe that tied around your waist. The sleeves and the skirt billowed as you walked. It didn’t feel right to you to be wearing such a garment but Joy insisted. If you were meeting the prince, you had to be dressed accordingly.

You couldn’t argue with your lady so you agreed to switch nightgowns with her. Once she had yours on, she promised to get you a nicer nightdress for your birthday.

“Anytime, Miss.” The butler pursed his lips. “The prince does not like to be kept waiting.”

“Open the door, please.” You barely recognized your own voice.

The butler pulled the door open and gestured for you to enter first. You took a deep breath before striding through and into a bedroom about twenty times as ornate as the quarters provided to Lady Joy. The lofted ceiling should have made the room cold, but a large fireplace was lit ablaze and crackled away.

The door slid shut behind you. When you glanced back, the butler hadn’t followed you.

You slowly walked deeper into the room. You passed through a lush drawing room, surely meant for entertaining. A study where a large oak desk dominated the space. A door was cracked leading into a bathroom where the bathtub alone was the same size as your room back home. Until finally you reached the bedroom. A large four poster bed stood tall against one wall and a chaise and a few plush couches surrounded another active fireplace. Against the wall opposite from you stood a pair of floor to ceiling glass doors that were open and led out onto a balcony.

And there he stood. Prince Minho had his back to you and he leaned against the balcony railing. He stared off into the night. If he heard you enter, he did not say. For a few moments, you stood in the middle of his bedroom and waited. You weren’t sure if you should say something or not. Besides, it was not in your nature to speak before spoken to. You wondered what he was thinking about.

“Come, my love.” Prince Minho glanced over his shoulder and gestured for you to join him. Your feet carried you past the threshold and onto the balcony. You didn’t have a chance to see the view before you were crushed in the warmest hug you’d ever received.

Once you were close enough, Prince Minho pulled you into a tight embrace. He buried his face in your neck and breathed in deeply. His warmth enveloped you and his body hid you from the cool night air. You didn’t hesitate long before your arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him into you. The soft breeze around you ensured that his rich scent invaded your nostrils and you ached to have the smell imprinted on your very soul. You wanted to remember how he held you. He held you as if it was truly the last time.

“We will find a solution, I promise.” Prince Minho murmured into your neck.

“I wish I could stay.”

“I could command it.”

“I can’t leave my lady.”

“I can’t bear to be wed to another.” Prince Minho pulled away just enough to look at your face. “This entire kingdom should be yours.”

“As long as you are my soulmate, the entire kingdom is mine.” You assured him with a small smile. Even though your entire body ached with sadness and you wanted to cry, you couldn’t. You didn’t want to cry in his presence.

“Look at it.” Prince Minho moved behind you and wrapped his arms around your middle. He moved until you stood at the railing. “No matter the circumstance, as a prince you are my princess. When I am king you will be my only queen.”

Your breath caught in your throat at the sight and his words. From here, you could see the entire gardens as well as the golden glow coming from the ballroom. The city sprawled out around the palace, warm and alive. The lights below glittered and you could almost make out the subjects walking the streets. For them, their days were just beginning. The city extended as far as the eye could see until it met the black ocean. From there, only inky blackness.

“Look.” You pointed towards the city, “You see the clocktower?”

“I do.”

“When I have time to myself I like to go to a park nearby for a walk. I get a day off a month and I usually spend it there.” You explained, then pointed somewhere else. “I take my lady to a seamstress near the tavern over there.”

“Where do you live?” Prince Minho’s breath fanned against your ear.

“Over there.” You pointed off to the side, “Just out of sight. Beyond that spire.”

“My angel… tell me something lovely.”

“Like what?”

“It matters not. Tell me something lovely that makes you feel happy.”

“Hmm…” You mused for a few seconds, “The feeling of grass under my feet on a warm summer day. The ocean breeze through my hair. The tiny noises of a puppy. Crawling into bed after a long day. The smell of freshly baked bread. The rich scent of roses.”

“Roses… I may never look at them the same way again.” Prince Minho chuckled.

“I don’t think I will, either.” You giggled. “What about you? What are some lovely things?”

“Well…” Prince Minho’s lips pressed onto your neck and he hummed. His hair tickled your skin and you couldn’t help the giggle that came from your throat. “Your laugh is the most beautiful music I’ve ever heard. The smell of old parchment. Having a warm bath after a hunt. Biting into a perfectly crisp apple. Kissing the skin of your beloved. Pink silk nightgowns.”

Between each offering, your prince pressed a warm kiss on your skin, trailing from your neck to your shoulder. His fingers gently moved the fabric of your nightgown aside so he could press kisses on all of the skin he could. You sighed and tilted your head to the side to give him more access. Your eyes slid shut.

“Prince Minho,” you sighed when his fingertips traced your collarbones.

“To you, I am no prince. I am merely Minho.” he whispered. His fingers trailed down your chest to the silk ribbon holding your robe shut, playing with the fabric and running it through the pads of his fingers. “Will you let me love you? Let me shower you with my love and bring your body so much pleasure.”

“Pleasure like in the garden?”

“Just like that, but tenfold.”

Your body trembled with nerves, but you nodded all the same. Minho pressed soft kisses on your skin and you sighed at the feeling. He slowly pulled the ribbon free and your robe fell open for him. He smoothed his hands over your stomach and hips and you sighed at the contact. You leaned your head back to rest on his shoulder and he accepted your weight willingly. He wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly.

“You can say no,” Prince Minho whispered, “It’s okay. I can love you in more ways.”

“I want to but… I’m nervous.” You admitted. You ached to have him again, if the aching between your legs was anything to go by, but now that the soulmate urge had passed the thought of having something so… big inside of you again made your heart flutter.

“My love, I would never hurt you. We can take this as slow as you wish.”

You stayed in that position for a few minutes. Your head on his shoulder, his arms wrapped around you and holding you as close to his body as possible, both of you staring out at the kingdom below. Your mind wandered, giving you visions of royal life. Perhaps working in the palace so you could at least be closer to him. Getting to sleep in his room each night, slipping out in the morning. You could never be queen. Joy taught you to read but you never quite understood the classic literature that everyone of noble birth had to read to be educated.

You imagined attending parties, dressing up, and dancing the night away in beautiful golden ballrooms. You imagined eating food prepared by the palace cooks each and every morning. If what the cooks prepared tasted as good as what you had for dinner, you thought you could get used to this life. Honestly, you didn’t even want to be queen. Or even a princess. You just wanted to love him. Freely. Openly.

“All I want is to know you.” You whispered and Minho hummed to encourage you to keep speaking, “I want to know you inside and out. I want to grow a partnership, I want to know what you hate and I want to know what you love. I want to know how you take your breakfast, how you take your tea, your favorite walking paths, where do you hide when you need to get away from it all? I don’t want to leave in the morning.”

“Then don’t,” Prince Minho tried again but he knew your answer, “Stay with me in the palace. We could figure something out and I will make sure that you stay by my side.”

For a few long seconds, you stayed silent as you contemplated his words. As the seconds ticked on, Prince Minho heard his answer.

“I’m sorry, my lord.”

“Then let us focus on this night. Let us spend our time focusing on each other.” Prince Minho turned you around in the circle of his arms so he could gaze upon your face. His eyes glistened with tears and you wished you could take his pain away. “Please… call me Minho.”

“Prince-”

“No,” he cut you off, pressing his lips to your forehead for a few seconds, “Just… Minho.”

“Minho…” You breathed, “Bring me pleasure. I will bring you pleasure tenfold. Please.”

“Angel, you never have to ask.”

His lips crashed onto yours with no more ceremony. Your heart swelled at the contact and you kissed him back eagerly. His lips tasted so sweet. Your favorite sweet could never compare to his taste. Your arms wrapped around his neck and he pressed you into the balcony railing. He twisted his head a little and kissed you deeper. You accepted everything he had to give you.

Minho put his hands on your shoulders and pushed the robe off. The fabric pooled around your waist and he started on working the robe off your arms but you pulled away a little.

“Wait. Not here.” You whispered. Minho pulled away from you.

“No one can see us up here, Angel.”

“Still… I… I don’t want to lose the robe. It belongs to my lady.” You admitted.

“When you are mine, I will give you hundreds of nightgowns made of the finest silk in all the land.” Minho pressed warm kisses on your jawbone and neck as he spoke, trailing his lips along your skin and leaving trails of fire in his wake.

“I’m already yours.”

“Don’t you forget it.”

With that, Minho swept you up into his arms and carried you bridal style back into his room. You yelped when you initially lost your footing but giggled as he carried you. You held onto him and nuzzled your nose into his neck. Minho paused in the middle of his room and looked towards the fireplace then towards his bed on the other end of the room. After a few moments of deliberation, he made his way over to the bed and gently laid you down on the plush mattress. He was over you in an instant, pressing his knees on either side of your hips.

“Angel, I want to see you this time. I want to see all of you.”

Minho’s hands ran over the fabric of your nightgown. His eyes trailed over your curves. His hands moved to gently cup your breasts. He squeezed them and pushed them together to watch them swell under the fabric. His thumbs ran over your pebbled nipples and you gasped at the surprisingly pleasant feeling that came from it. Minho smiled softly and repeated the action again and again, rubbing his thumbs in circles around your nipples. Your back arched into him and your eyes slid shut so you could enjoy the stimulation.

He moved one of his knees to press at the seam between yours. Your legs easily fell open to accommodate him. Minho leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. He resumed his task of helping the robe off your body. You assisted him by pulling your arms out of the sleeves and tugging the offending fabric away so it could pool on the ground. Minho gripped your thighs and worked on pushing the silky fabric up your legs so he could touch your bare skin.

Your hands busied themselves with pulling his blouse up and over his head. He broke the kiss briefly to rip his shirt off and toss it on the floor before kissing you again. He didn’t give you the chance to admire his figure, but your hands traced his strong shoulders and strong chest and abdominal muscles.

That telltale arousal began to pool between your legs. The same heat you felt in the garden licked up your spine and made the junction between your legs ache. Your hips unconsciously rolled upwards, only to catch on Minho’s pants. The sudden friction made a moan slip from your lips. Minho pulled away with a gasp.

“Please make that sound again. I will worship the ground you walk on.” Minho moaned out. He pressed his thigh closer to the apex between your legs until it pressed firmly against your heat. You gasped at the contact but winced when you remembered that Joy’s silk gown still covered you. You grasped the skirt and pulled it up over your hips and Minho moaned again. “Nothing underneath, angel? Were you hoping I would fuck you?”

Mindlessly, you nodded, choosing not to remind him that it was, in fact, him who ripped your undergarments to the point where they could not be used. Instead, you pressed your core against his thigh and moaned at the pleasure that sparked through you. Minho flexed his thigh and urged you to grind against him. Your hips moved slowly as you got used to the rhythm and the new pleasure. You whimpered as the pleasure grew but you weren’t sure if you would be able to climax like you did in the garden.

“More,” you whimpered thoughtlessly.

“My angel wants more?” Minho cooed. He stared down at you with such awe, as if perhaps there was an actual angel below him. “What do you want? I shall give it to you.”

“I…” you trailed off, your mind going blank, “I don’t know. I want you to touch me.”

With that, Minho pulled his knee away and pushed your nightgown up to expose your core to him. Instinctively, you parted your legs a little more. Minho’s gaze flickered down to your center and pulled his lower lip between his teeth. Your folds glistened in the low glow from the fireplace across the room. Minho moved a hand and gently swiped one of his fingers through your folds and brought it to his mouth. His eyes rolled back in his head at the taste of you.

“Angel, can I taste you properly?” Minho’s gravely voice sent a wave of arousal through you.

“You just did…”

“I want to put my tongue on you.” Minho slowly lowered down the bed until his face hovered just above your core, “If it’s too much tell me to stop.”

With that, Minho flattened his tongue against you and your back instantly arched off the bed. You let out a choked gasp as the dizzying sensation swept through you. His warm, wet tongue licked through your folds, mapping every ridge and dip and curve. He swirled his tongue around your opening to gather your wetness in his mouth before he moved up to suck on your clit. A keening moan left your throat as he sucked and nipped at the little bud. You couldn’t stop the small moans and gasps you let out as Minho’s tongue played with you.

“You taste so good, angel.” Minho moaned.

He licked down to your entrance and slowly wiggled his tongue past the barrier. He moaned against your core and pushed his tongue deeper into you. You moaned at the feeling and tilted your hips up to chase his face, as if he had any intention to move. He lapped at your walls greedily, like a man who’s never tasted water before. Minho’s eyes slid shut as he savored your warmth in his mouth. His nose nudged your clit with every few pushes of his tongue and it was enough to build the most amazing feeling in your stomach.

You recognized that feeling now, it was the same one from the garden. As if on instinct, you reached for his head to keep him against you before you paused, realizing that this was the prince you were about to touch without permission. He’d told you a hundred times that you could, but the doubt still hovered.

As if reading your thoughts, Minho reached up and grabbed your wrist. He led your hand to the back of his head before hooking his arm under your leg to hold you against him. Your fingers slid through his silky locks easily. You gasped out at a particularly harsh suck and you gripped his hair tightly. Minho let out a moan into your pussy and the vibrations, in turn, made you moan.

Minho refocused his efforts, moving up to wrap his lips and tongue around your little clit. His other hand slid between you until his fingertips prodded at your swollen hole. You gasped at the contact, but tilted your hips up to chase the feeling. You could feel him smile against you. The coil within you tightened and you gasped.

“Aw, sweet girl, are you going to cum?” Minho cooed.

“Yes! Yes, please, I need more.” you moaned out.

“You want my fingers?” Minho drew a small circle around your hole with a fingertip.

“Fuc- yes!” You choked out a moan when he pushed one finger into the knuckle.

“Mm, you’re so tight.” Minho murmured those last words right against your clit before sucking it into his mouth.

You were certain you had died and gone to heaven. The added stimulation of his finger and the incessant swirls of his tongue sent you hurtling towards a release in record time. Like the wave inside of you, your moans also rose like a crescendo. Growing in pitch and frequency, you couldn’t hold them back. You gripped onto Minho’s hair like a lifeline as the pleasure peaked.

“Cumming- sir! Sir, I’m cumming, please!” You all but shrieked as you came into his mouth.

Your legs shook, even as Minho slowed his ministrations to ride you through it. Even though he’d just given it to you, he pulled his finger out and moved his face a little lower so he could lap gently at your pulsing hole. You quivered and moaned as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you until it slowly turned to pain. After one soft lap, you winced and let go of Minho’s hair.

He took this as a sign and pulled away from you. He sat back on his knees and tilted his head back. He closed his eyes and rested his hands on your legs, just to keep some form of physical contact with you. You watched as he ran his tongue along his lips as if to gather every single drop of your sweet essence.

“You’re so beautiful when you cum.” Minho commented, opening his eyes once more to look into yours.

“I want to make you cum, too,” you declared, sitting up and placing your hands on his hips.

His noticeable and very neglected erection strained in his pants. You kept your eyes on his as you moved your palm to gently cup him. Minho’s eyes fluttered shut at the contact for a moment before he opened them once more to look at you. He cupped your cheeks in his hands as you palmed him through his pants.

“And you will do so once I am inside of you.” Minho’s low voice slid easily down your spine and you shivered.

“But Minho… Can I taste you, too?”

“How can I say no to that when you’re looking at me so sweetly?”

Minho’s nimble fingers immediately got to work on the laces on his pants. He flopped down on the bed next to you and worked his pants off his hips until they were a forgotten pile on the floor. His shirt was thrown on the floor next, leaving him completely bare. His fingers played with the hem of your nightdress and his eyes twinkled.

Slowly, you lowered yourself to get a closer look at his cock. Long, thick, and heavy. The dark pink head oozed precum and you licked your lips in anticipation. You could hardly believe that this is the thing that had just been inside of you this morning. Only a few hours ago, this thing had made you cum so hard and it was about to do it again.

Unable to wait any longer, you leaned forward to press a wet kiss to the leaking head. Minho moaned on contact, throwing his head back into the plush pillows as you suckled it into your mouth. You ran your tongue over the velvety skin, sighing as he leaked more precum. Salty and musky but overall not unpleasant. Minho’s deft fingers swept through your hair and pulled it back so it wouldn’t get in the way. You lifted your gaze to meet his and he just about blew his load right there.

You looked so sweet, gently sucking on the head of his cock while looking at him innocently through your eyelashes. Your petal pink nightgown hung down just enough for him to get a clear look at your tits that swelled with each breath. The sight alone made him moan louder.

“Am I doing it right?” You pulled away slightly to blink at him.

“Fuck, yes.” He responded, laughing softly, “Keep going.”

Not one to refuse an order from your future king, you lowered your head and put him back in your mouth. Minho moaned softly, the sweet noise encouraging you to take a little more of him. Minho panted as he watched you take more and more of him until your nose lightly grazed his stomach. His tip prodded the back of your throat and you choked a little. Minho rolled his hips up into your mouth and you let out a little gasp.

“Run your tongue along it.” Minho guided you.

You wasted no time and swirled your tongue along the underside of his cock. You bobbed your head up and down his length, swirling your tongue as you went. Occasionally you rose all the way up and sucked on the head like you would a cube of ice on a hot day. This action would make him whimper and writhe under you. Every time he made a noise of pleasure, your core clenched and dripped even more for him. You couldn’t wait to take him again.

Minho used the grip he had on your hair to guide you up and down his length. He kept his eyes on your lips as you accepted him into your warm, wet mouth time and time again. The knot in his stomach kept tensing, threatening to spill his release down your throat but he wasn’t done receiving all the the pleasure your body could give him. Maybe one day he would paint your face and lips in his cum, but today was not that day,

All too soon, he pulled you off of him roughly. He tugged you up to be face to face so that he could kiss you. His plush lips caressed yours hungrily, coaxing your tongue into his mouth to suck on. If he minded the salty taste of his precum on your lips, he didn’t say anything. Just like you didn’t say anything about the taste of yourself on his tongue.

“If I don’t fuck you right this instant, I may die.” Minho murmured against your lips.

“How do you want me, my love?”

“Naked.”

Minho clawed at your nightdress and pulled it over your head. The flimsy fabric joined the pile on the floor. The air hit your exposed chest and your nipples perked immediately. His hands came to gently cup your breasts and he kneaded them slowly. His thumbs gently traced matching circles around your nipples and pleasure sparked through you with every touch. You arched your back, pushing your chest into his hands more. Minho grinned mischievously before he leaned up and closed his lips around one of your hardened buds.

“Oh!” You gasped as his tongue circled your nipple. His teeth caught on the sensitive peak and you moaned and threw your head back. “Minho!”

“Yes, angel, tell me who’s making you feel good.” Minho whispered as he moved his mouth to your other breast and latched on. He sucked and swirled his tongue on your nipple like he would die tomorrow and the only thing that could save him was you and the essence you could promise him. “Just imagine these beautiful works of art filled with milk for our baby, hm?”

“Yes,” The thought of bearing his child sent another wave of arousal through you. Though you knew it would never happen, you decided to let him play into the fantasy.

“My angel, you would look so beautiful. Giving our baby life, giving me life.” Minho sucked harshly on your nipple and switched one last time to the other side. “I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from tasting you every day.”

“Minho!” You moaned when he lightly bit down on your swollen nub.

“Good girl.” Minho pulled away with a quiet pop and blew onto your damp skin. The cold stream of air on your wet breast made you shiver. “Lay down. I want to see your face when I enter you.”

You scrambled onto your back, your hands hastily brushing your hair out of your face as Minho crawled over you. As natural as opening your eyes in the morning, you opened your legs for him. He smiled as he settled between your thighs. His cock brushed your inner thigh and you both shuddered at the contact. He buried his head into your neck and sighed. He breathed you in, kissing your skin deeply.

“Minho, please.” You urged, your hands finding purchase on his slim waist and pulling him closer to you. Your core ached, wet and empty.

“I’m going to make love to you now. If you need me to stop, tell me and I will.” Minho rolled his hips into yours. His cock slid through the wet lips of your pussy and caught on the hood of your clit.

“I never want you to stop.”

Minho moaned into your neck and kissed his way up to your lips. He kissed you deeply, dipping your tongue into your mouth to drink in your moans. One of his hands dipped between your bodies to grasp his cock. He ran the tip through your soaked pussy, pushing it against your clit to illicit moans and gasps from you. Each pass made your hole even more soaked and empty.

“Angel, you feel so good.”

“Put it in.” You whined.

Minho pulled back from you just enough so that he could watch your face when he pushed into you. The head breached your hole and you let out a keening moan. Your hooded eyes watched his face contort into pleasure as he slowly inched inside of you. His length caressed your walls as he sunk in, inch by glorious inch. His eyes never left yours, even when he hit a dead end.

He bottomed out, his thighs pressed firmly into yours. You could have sworn the tip of his cock was hitting the back of your throat.

“You look so beautiful when you’re full of my cock.” Minho moaned. His skin was tinted a rose color and the vein in his neck looked close to popping. “You’re so tight, Angel, I could cum right now.”

“So full,” you choked out, hardly able to form words around the stretch of him in your cunt.

“Wanna fill you up even more, Angel.” Minho buried his face in the crook of your neck again. He rocked into you slowly, hardly even moving at all. If he moved too much too fast he was worried that he would cum far too quickly. Your tight heat choked his cock and coated him in your sweet wetness. His slight movements in and out of you made your pussy squelch around him.

“Move,” You begged.

“I’m going to make you cum so hard.” Minho promised.

With that, he pulled his hips back until just his head remained sheathed by your walls. Then he pushed forwards with all the force he could muster and your combined moans were like music. Your cunt clamped onto his cock as he fucked you with earnest. He rolled his hips into yours slowly but with so much force behind them that you were sure you’d be sore tomorrow.

Tonight, you couldn’t care less.

You rolled your hips up to meet every thrust. Minho’s precise thrusts rubbed against all of the perfect spots inside of you. His girth stretched you wide and you wondered how it was possible that there would be enough room inside of you for his cum.

Minho wasn’t faring with that thought any better. Your tight cunt gripped him like a vice. Every time he entered you, you clenched so tightly that he was worried that every thrust might be his last. The last time he fucked you, things had gone by quickly and he hadn’t had the time to really feel you. This time, he was careful with his thrusts so he could feel every inch of your slick walls around his aching cock. Your walls clenched and clamped onto him.

“Angel, you feel so good,” Minho moaned, leaning down to suck a mark into your neck, “I don’t think I’ll last.”

“Me either.”

You were surprised with how quickly the pleasure mounted within you. Your core ached like before, but this wasn’t a quick fuck like in the rose garden. Minho was making sure that you could feel every single inch of him and that he could feel every ridge and bump of your walls.

When he fucked you behind the rose bushes it was quick and rushed. He’d pounded into you like he was going to die if he didn’t. The orgasm he’d coaxed you through was powerful and quick.

This, however, was the exact opposite of that. Each movement was slow and calculated. Each deliberate roll of his hips made you shudder with pleasure. It was like he was trying to get his entire cock into you with every thrust while also taking the time to feel every inch.

“Faster,” you choked out.

“Want to feel you, angel.” Minho grunted, “Want to feel you cum on my cock. Can you do that?”

“I-it’s too much-” you choked after a particularly brutal thrust.

“Come on, love, I know you can do it.”

Minho’s hands trailed down your body, to your legs, to hook under the back of your knees. He hiked your legs up until you had your ankles hooked behind his back. This gave him a new angle to thrust into you. His pubic bone grazed deliciously against your clit with every pass. You were certain that you would lose consciousness at any moment.

“I can’t.” You sighed out.

“It’s okay, angel. Just relax and let me take care of you.” Minho urged.

Only moments later, the string in your tummy pulled taut. You moaned softly into his neck as he delivered each of his perfect thrusts. Your back arched off the bed and you pushed your hips up to meet his. This created the most beautiful and intense pressure in your cunt.

“You’re squeezing me so tight! Are you about to come?” Minho moaned into your ear and you nodded. “Good girl, let me feel it.”

It was like your body waited for his command. Your orgasm crashed over you and you couldn’t stop yourself from throwing your head back and letting out the loudest moan of the night. Minho continued fucking you through it, chanting words of praise into your ear. Your cunt squeezed the dear life out of him and he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d last. You tightened your legs around him in order to keep him inside you.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere,” He promised, “I’m going to come inside of you, mark you as mine so you keep a piece of me with you wherever you go.”

“Yes,” You moaned out, still shaking through your powerful orgasm.

It was all the confirmation he needed to bury himself as deep inside you as he could to release. The warm sensation of cum filling you up spread through your belly. Your pussy spasmed around his length, milking him for every single drop. He thrusted into you shallowly a few times until he was completely empty.

Finally, your legs dropped from around his waist and he took that as a sign to carefully pull out of your spent hole. Minho sat up on his knees to watch as his softening cock left your tight hole. His cock was coated with your slick and shone in the low light from the fireplace.

He collapsed on the bed next to you and wasted no time in pulling you into him. Minho held you tightly, neither of you minding the tacky stick of your sweat-slicked skin. You clung to him as well, burying your face into his neck. Together, you came down from your highs, breathing hard and holding one another tight.

“Please stay.” Minho whispered into your hair, “I won’t command it, but will you please stay with me until dawn?”

“Yes, Minho. I promise, I’ll stay.”

~!~!~!~!~!~

THE CALL OF the rooster roused you from your sleep well before you were ready. Your eyes peeled open and the sun had barely even kissed the horizon. You sighed and pushed the blankets away and sat up. You glanced up at the pink silk nightgown that hung from your door. Lady Joy refused to let you give it back, but you couldn’t bear to wear it again.

Gone were the fine silks and wools of the Prince’s palace bedroom. Here to stay were your maids quarters with its scratchy sheets and windows that you could never quite get clean. You gently lifted your hand to touch your lips. Those very lips had touched the Prince’s months ago.

Slipping out of bed that morning had nearly gutted you, but you redressed in your lady’s silk gown and returned to her quarters. All before the prince even awoke.

Eons ago. The ball and the roses and the gowns were eons ago. So why did you still feel his touch on your skin? Why could you still hear the orchestra playing the waltz that your prince whisked you away to?

You were thankful that his wedding bells hadn’t rung on your day off for the month. Lady Joy attended the ceremony but left you at home with a long list of chores to complete. Most of them were mindless busywork but she knew to keep you distracted.

Since the ceremony, life simply returned to normal. Your daily tasks resumed and you cared for your lady to the best of your ability. Which, as of late, was not much. Lady Joy did her best to be accommodating, which you were more than thankful for. You just wanted to get back to work. You had a feeling that the grace she was giving you was beginning to frustrate her mother.

You forced yourself out of bed and you quickly dressed. You swallowed down the wave of nausea that climbed up your throat and made your way to Lady Joy’s chambers. The curtains were drawn and the embers of a fire crackled in the fireplace. Lady Joy was curled up in the center of the bed, fast asleep. Her light snores provided some white noise as you rekindled the fire and prepared her vanity for her morning routine.

Eventually, you flung open the curtains and the warm light from the sun streamed into the room. You sighed as it hit your skin, basking in the warmth for a few moments. Joy groaned behind you and shoved her head under her pillow.

“Rise and shine, my Lady. You have many duties to attend to today.” You chided her.

“Like what?” Joy groaned, muffled by the pillow.

“There is a tea party this afternoon. Duchess Loh is hosting and is expecting your attendance. Then Lady Mina is requesting your presence at dinner this evening.” You explained, moving from the drapes to the closet. You threw open the doors and perused the gowns available for the day. You were admittedly a little behind in your laundry.

“I think we should cancel.” Joy groaned, “I’m feeling quite ill today.”

“Ill? Are you alright?” You retreated from the closet to sit on the edge of her bed.

“My stomach is turning. I’ve been feeling ill for several days.” Joy gently rubbed her stomach. “It usually passes in the evening but perhaps dinner disagreed with me?”

“For the last several days? That sounds quite serious. Perhaps I should call for the doctor?” You cleared your throat, wondering if you should tell her that you’d been feeling the exact same way.

“Perhaps it is simply the pain of my courses. I’m supposed to bleed soon, right?” Joy finally pulled her face from the pillow and sat up.

“Have you not begun yet?”

“No…” Joy trailed off. “Oh, lord have mercy. The ball was three months ago now, right?”

“I suppose so. Oh no…” You trailed off, “My Lady, what happened when I left for the Prince’s chambers?”

“I… made a promise not to say a word.” Joy chewed on her lower lip, “Sir Peter came to find me. We had such a stimulating conversation and he wanted to continue it. It was an accident, but we touched and…”

“Lady Joy!” You gasped, covering your mouth with your hands, “Why has he not come to call?”

“He’s from Rome, like our princess. He left the next morning.” Joy wailed, a dam breaking within her and her tears flowed down her cheeks. “Dear Y/N, I am so sorry I didn’t tell you! I thought you wouldn’t want to hear it after everything with the prince and-”

“You need not apologize to me, my Lady.” You took her in your arms and patted her hair while she cried for a few minutes, “I know it must be so difficult to be without him.”

“It feels like my heart has been torn from my chest!”

“My Lady, please let me fetch the doctor. If you are with child then we must know. While he’s here, I think he should see me, too.” You winced as you spoke.

Lady Joy pulled away from you instantly, her eyes as wide as saucers. Her eyes dipped from your face down to your stomach. You chewed on your lip, wondering if it was seriously possible that both of you were with child at the same time. You hadn’t experienced the nausea that most women report but you noted that your courses were late last month, and certain smells that once pleased you were now nauseating.

“Would that mean that…” Joy trailed off.

“I believe so, miss.”

“Fetch the doctor.” Joy scrambled out of bed and threw the drapes closed. “And… fetch mother. I fear we will need to retire to the countryside for the rest of the season.”

Your hand drifted to your stomach, now churning with fear. You met Joy’s eyes and for a moment. Anxiety swirled between you as the consequences of your actions hovered over your shoulders.

For a moment, both you and Joy remained still.

Then, you did what you do best. You rose to your feet and walked head-first into your duties and your future. Without your prince.

#minho smut #lee know smut #stray kids smut #skz minho smut #lee know angst #skz lee know angst #stray kids angst #soulmate au #skz minho imagine #lee know imagine #lee know x reader #lee know x you #lee know x y/n #skz smut #rose garden #skz angst #skz imagines #lee minho smut #im bad at tags

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the-kr8tor · 3 months

Note

This is the fancier potioneer I know! Congrats for the 1 year lovie 💕

May I request some cardamom with elder berries in a heart shaped bottle (and a hint of baby's breath)? Hobie and fem!Reader going back a couple years at their daughter's school party that happens to have an elegant mail at display for the high-school sweethearts 🥹 feel free to decide who sents who a letter! I can just imagine Billie and Ramona going giggles watching their parents fall in love all over again!

Potion coming right up just for you!!! Thank you for requesting bleaky! 🩷

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 2.3k

Tags: use of Y/N sparsely, No specific physical description of the reader (Hobie is mentioned taller than her though), CW food mentions, Dad au, twin au, Billie and Ramona au, Dad! Hobie, Mom! Reader, older! Hobie, FLUFF!

Katy's 1 year celebration 🎉

Excited screams and the smell of cotton candy greets you as you enter the twins' high school. You still can't believe that they're already in their freshman year when it felt like it was just yesterday you were teaching them how to tie their own shoes. Now they know that and more. You're incredibly proud of them as you weave through the crowd, seeing their familiar silhouette in their booth. Students and teachers passing by, holding snacks and treats from the nearby food stalls. A few parents are scattered here and there, they're probably here for the same reason as you, to support their kids.

Your smile gets wider and wider as you see their pink and red booth that is covered in glitter and hundreds of hearts. Sure enough, when you get close to the line, Billie and Ramona look at you simultaneously. Their grins identical, both inheriting their dad's adorable dimples that you adore so much.

“Mum!” Billie screeches, wildly waving at you. She's clad in a full blown cupid outfit, dressed in your old, or how she puts it ‘vintage’ white with pink accents leather jacket. The wide legged hot pink pants that she begged you to buy for her fits her perfectly, she even sewed pink hearts all around it to emphasize that she is cupid, and cupid is her. “Skip the line!” Beckoning you over, she acts as if she's shooting her pink spray painted toy bow and arrow at you.

“Don't shoot at mum!” Mona scolds her sister like she had actually aimed a real weapon at you. Instead of her sister fully dressed for the part, Mona's outfit isn't as loud. She had burrowed Hobie's old cherry red leather jacket, still clad in hundreds of pins, and spikes around the shoulders. You had bought her a top at the same time you bought Billie her pants, it has hearts embroidered on it, all in rainbow colours, fluffy and in 3d. Her eyes are in the same sparkly eyeshadow that Billie has, dusted with vibrant pink and ruby.

You walk over to their table, it's littered with pink scented papers and envelopes. There's a basket of candied roses nestled under Billie's arm with a few letters tied around the stem. The entire booth is chaotic, both familiar and unfamiliar faces are helping out in their mail booth. Mona is in the front counter while Billie stands on the side, beckoning people over to their booth.

“You made it!” Billie happily envelopes you in a hug, gogo boots thumping on the ground. She smells oddly like your perfume.

“I couldn't miss it, Bee!” You pat her back to release you, yet she still clings to you like she's ten years old even though she has gotten way taller than you and her own sister. “What time is the big dance number?”

“At one pm, mum.” Mona says, busy and occupied as she tends to customers.

“Not even a hug, Mon?”

She looks up at you briefly, puckering her lips and making kissing noises. Teenagers. “Sorry, mum, I'll hug you in a minute once Thena comes back.”

“Who's Thena?” You ask the still clinging Billie. “Shouldn't you help your sister?” You glance towards the frantic Mona, but she's composed, getting the rhythm of everything. She takes the cash, gives them the stationary, and then points them towards a more befuddled spectacled boy who looks like he's about to collapse from pressure.

Billie takes one look at Mona and then back towards the boy, then to you. “Nah, they've got it.” You furrow your brows at your daughter. “Trust me, when Mon mon’s in the zone nothin’ can stop her. She's a well oiled machine who has kicked me in the shin twice when I tried to help.”

“You were not helpin’!” Mona adds, “we're filled with messages! Go start deliverin’, Billie!”

“Oop,” Billie chuckles, “Full first name, I think she's mad mad.” She whispers to you. “I'm waiting for dad, Ramona!” Teasing, her sister gives her the stink eye. Billie in reply sticks her tongue out, to which Mona shakes her head at. “Where's dad anyway? I wanna show him my bow and arrow!”

“Parking, he's having a tough time finding a spot.” You answer, picking a stray eyelash off her sparkly cheek. “He'll be here, don't worry. And he has the camera fully charged so he doesn't miss a second of your dance.”

Billie giggles, Mona smiles at the conversation. “It's not just us dancin’, mum, it's the whole school. There will be a lot of people.” Billie thanks you with another squeeze as she hasn't left your side.

“Still, he has every milestone recorded since your birth, he's not gonna stop now.”

“Billie, the bloody letters!” Mona interrupts, huffing at Billie's groan of protest. “Now!” She flicks her eyes at you, “please?” The butterflies in her hair look like they're actually flying when she moves her head.

“Only because you asked nicely!” Billie pouts, “I’ll be right back, mum! Tell dad I went around, okay?”

“I will, go, have fun delivering letters!” You wave her off.

“Oh it's my favourite! It has always been my dream to be a delivery woman!” You laugh at her antics. “Oh and Mon don't forget the thing!” She saunters off, running after a student who probably has a letter in her name.

“I won't!” Mona yells back.

“What thing, baby?” You walk beside her, patting her aching shoulders.

“A letter,” she grins mischievously at you, there's a glint in her eyes that you've seen in Hobie's eyes. Sliding a pink paper and a gel pen over to you, she raises her brows playfully. “It's on the house, mum, special courtesy of the best daughters in the world.”

“The best of the best.” You smile, trying incredibly hard not to peck her temple or you might end up embarrassing her. She also smells like your perfume. “But first, do you want help? I don't know who Thena is, but it looks like she's still not here.”

“Please.” Mona sighs in relief, “I'll give you a bundle of chocolate roses.” She scooches over, giving you space.

“No need, I still have a ton left from your dad.”

The line thins as you help Mona, and in between customers, you've written a letter full of love for Hobie. Thena, who you now know is a sophomore finally arrives with help. She lets Mona actually enjoy the event just as when Hobie arrives huffing with a frown. The crowd parts for him like he owns the school, it's his saunter, you always tell him. He's in his normal punk garb, to the detest of some parents but the students seem to love his style, including you who still falls head over heels at the same leather clad man.

“Hi, dad.” Mona, more tired, plops on her dad's side after squeezing the life out of you. Her cheek is pressed on his side as he rubs soothingly up and down her arm.

“I know ‘m like a broken record, but what did I miss?”

You open your mouth to reply, already magnetized to his other side, his arm around your waist as the three of you walk around the event. But Billie's voice suddenly pops out of nowhere.

“Mon mon bein’ a girl boss!” She collides into the three of you, Hobie chuckles, patting her head. She ducks away though, “don't mess up my hair, dad!”

“I wasn't.” Hobie meets your eyes. “And to think I used to do her bloody hair.” The twins walk ahead of you, whispering to each other.

“Teenagers, Hobie, we've got teenagers now.”

He makes a face, pulling you closer, watching his girls giggle amongst themselves. “I know, I think we need another one to balance them out.”

“With your back, old man?” You pinch his side, grinning at him. He doesn't miss the innuendo filled comment.

Hobie leans his face close, pierced lips grazing the shell of your ear. “Who you callin' old, huh? This old man can still lift a bloody plane.”

“Sure, sure, So you keep telling me.”

He blows hot air in your ear, chuckling lowly as you gasp. “You wanna bet?”

“Later, old man.” You wink and you're already walking beside his girls, arm in arm, teasing him with a simple look.

—

You sit on the bleachers, lap full of snacks, buttered popcorn, corndogs and a couple of blue coloured drinks that you cannot fathom the flavour of. The seat is high up, overlooking the entire field where all the students wait on the sides. You'd be scared of the height but you're used to it now because of Hobie's impromptu dates on skyscrapers. Hobie slides over next to you, sweat clinging on his brow, arms clutching more friend food than anyone could even consume in one go.

“Are you sure your heart can handle all that?” You tease again, and he looks at you tenderly, eyes shining in the afternoon sun, reflecting the school flags waving above. After all these years, you still can't get over the fact that he looks at you like that, like you're his whole world.

“‘m a growing boy, love.” You hand him the camera from your purse, “and maybe ‘m preparin’ for tonight.”

“Nothing happens tonight, Hobs if you eat that whole blooming onion on your own.”

“You want some then?” He shakes the packaging.

“Of course I do.” You playfully scoff, taking the treat from Hobie as he laughs.

You two eat your fill, leaving some for the girls after the show, knowing that they'll be starving by then. One after the other, students from different grades take turns showing their own choreographed dances. Thankfully it's the girls' turn after the one you're currently watching.

“What's in this?” He asks, shaking the half empty blue drink.

“You're almost done with it and now you're just asking?” You say with your mouth full of cotton candy.

“Well, do you know?”

“It's blueberry.” You shrug.

He takes a sip, smacking his lips together. “Nah, I don't think so, lovie. I think it's all chemicals.”

You chuckle, knowing his next words. “Don't—”

“I think it's radioactive.” He fakes a gasp.

You still laugh wholeheartedly after the umpteenth time of him using the same joke.

“You laugh at radioactive material?” He says, mock disappointment.

“Well, I sleep with one every night, so…” there's a twinkle in your eyes.

“Fuckin' cheeky.” He grabs the back of your head, pushing you closer to him. “Y’know the girls got that from you.”

“And what did they get from you?”

“Except for my charms and handsome dimples? My brain.”

“Ah yes, of course—” before you could smooch him, the same boy from Billie and Mona's booth suddenly appears, his tall lanky frame blocking the sun, red hair brighter than Hobie's boots.

“What can I do for you, mate?” Hobie asks, and the poor boy practically shakes where he's standing.

“Y/N Brown?” He asks, already handing you a pink letter from his basket full of perfumed stationery.

“Yep, that's me. Thanks.” You look at the letter with confusion. “Looks like I've got a secret admirer.”

“Who?” Hobie acts, “and is he an adult so I can fight for your hand?”

“Shut up.” You laugh, opening the letter gingerly. Reading the affectionate words carefully.

“Hobie Brown?” The red haired boy asks again, Hobie looks up at him. “Mr. Hobie Brown.”

“No Mr. Brown ‘ere, bruv. But I'll take it.” His smile eases the boy, but he still skedaddles out of the bleachers. “He looked like he was about to piss himself. Does he know the girls, love?” He looks back at you with tears in your eyes. “Love?”

“H-how dare you write this love letter so well.” You sniff, he smiles. “This is so good! I-I haven't heard you call me cherry in so long, Hobie. And now that y-you wrote it….”

“Deep breaths, love.” He wipes your tears with his thumb, and a few people look at you weirdly. He doesn't mind, he can fight.

“You’re an asshole, I love you so fucking much.” You suddenly hug him, arms around his neck, face pressed on his skin. “You’re so right, the girls got your charm.”

Hobie holds you, knuckles running along your back. “And they got the rest from you.”

You lean back, tears still clinging in your lashes. “Don't read mine, it doesn't compare to yours.”

He shakes his head, staring at his love. “Even if you wrote it in wingdings I'll still read it.”

“It might as well be.”

“Too late, already reading it.”

“What—?” You look over your shoulder, and sure enough, he's reading it behind your back. “Ass.”

He blinks, eyes glimmering, clearing his throat. “Well, that's—”

“Shit? Horrible? Almost twenty years together and I still can't form coherent words when it comes to you?”

“No, I mean the last one is accurate, but,” he inhales. “‘m glad you chose me, love, and ‘m glad you kissed me back even after I kicked and broke your uni's doors open.”

“I kissed you back because I always hated those doors.” You joke, he laughs as he cradles your face in his hands. Those hands you've loved no matter how rough it gets. “And I always wanted to do that.” Not a joke, a full confession like you've said to him all those years ago.

Hobie tucks in the letter inside his jacket, right above his heart and you place yours just like he did, mirroring his movement. He gently pecks your lips, it's done immediately but not without love, it's full of it, filling your heart.

“I owe you a proper kiss when we get home and without a thousand people watching.”

“Okay, looking forward to it.” You nod, holding his warm palms.

“And without our girls screaming with their mates.”

You blink as Hobie gently moves your head towards a handful of girls bouncing for joy and yelling ‘otp.’ Whatever that means. Billie shakes Mona by her shoulders, you don't have enhanced eyesight just like your family but you can definitely see their eyes filled with happy tears.

“So this is their plan.” You say while Hobie loops his arm around your shoulders, head placed next to yours. “They are cheeky.”

“They got that from you.”

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barbthebuilder · 4 months

Text

This is my parting message

I gave myself time to think and talked to some people about this and I have decided to say goodbye to y'all.

Time here has been great and I loved pretty much every second of it. However, I want to focus on my real life now. Tumblr became too big of a part of my life for my comfort. Basically, I think it will be better if I quit.

I don't regret this blog. It made me very comfortable in my identity, it educated me, it made me feel loved and brave and powerful.

But it's over.

I can't thank you enough for everything you have done for me. For every like, comment, reblog, ask, tag, message and boop.

So... this is it. This is the end. This has been such a wonderful journey :')

Special thanks to:

@our-genderfluid-experience - great place to tell your story

@genderfluid-culture-iss - Bro letting people just spill the most relatable shit ever. Loving it.

@our-queer-experience - so much good info! Educated me a lot.

@hefkerut - I just want you to know you're an incredible person and I will always remember you. Like, seriously girl. I had such a blast with ya. You also always reblog the best shit?? You rock.

@genderoftoday - always provided me with content to reblog. Also, funny.

@genderfluid-info-blog - actually, such a smart person. Gives great advice and provides us with so many microlables. Mad respect.

@mxl4vrie - THANK YOU FOR THE FANART I SOMETIMES LOOK AT IT AND SMILE :DDD

@rat0

@popcorn-plots

@aegosexual-moments - you made me realize I'm aegosexual! Thanks a lot!

@alwaysprey

@sundry-whovengerslocked

@fruityracoons - dude, you were such a great support. Thanks for always checking up on me.

@frogofalltime

@foxinasuit - you actually made me realize I want to quit lmao I'm not leaving your side tho hehehe >:)

@joker1315 - always a pleasant conversation with this one! I still remember how you helped me with all that technical stuff :)

@kodiescove - learned a lot from you

@korane06

@littlemisspipebomb

@zuuriell

@crowdsourcedgender - you are doing such a good job. Keep it up! Thank you for always being a great help.

@candy8448

@baking-potato-27

@bhawk-goose - ur so funny hehehe

@banethebloodgoat

@night-rhea

@treion-is-back - I still remember you. Good luck.

@allknowingbirb

@i-am-an-arson-enthusiast

@spacewives-in-spacetime

@queen-mihai

@a-random-mooshroom - YOOOOO you were so fun to interact with!! All the best!!

@bibirb - thanks for supporting my Yellow Dog account and being one of the first followers!

@pronouncounter - count those pronouns

@pronoun-checks - keep it up!

@ghostsofchernobyl

@that-bisexual

@slender-genderfluid - okay, I have no relation to you but I think you're cool

@hijkay

@artistic-scribbles

@frogofalltime

@thegeniusidiotnstickmerchant3728 - you are so cool and so nerdy and SO WERID I am obssesed with you and I need to study you in the laboratory or put you in a maze with traps idk I will miss you sm

And many more! I'm sure I haven't tagged everyone and I'm sorry if I missed somebody :c I appreciate you regardless!!

Goodbye! May the gender euphoria be upon ya!

#genderfluid #blog info

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literaryvein-reblogs · 2 months

Note

Any tips for writing allegorical characters?

As with any character, it is helpful to consider some general character development techniques that most writers follow. This would likely give depth to your characters and allow your readers to connect with them more.

Allegorical Characters - are meant to represent something larger than themselves in order to make a point.

The character in question may be a perfectly well-rounded and very much individualized character, but he is so closely linked to a certain concept, that he is often used allegorically as a way of talking about that concept (e.g. Superman and idealism).

Example: Godzilla himself started in Godzilla (1954) as an allegorical character representing the Atomic Bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki and the destruction caused.

If all of the characters in the work are written this way, then you might just have a full-blown Allegory on your hands.

Symbolic & Personification Allegory

There are essentially two different ways to tell an allegorical story.

One is by using symbolic allegory:

To write your allegorical character here, give them a recognizable identity or mundane utility within the story but also represents a larger concept.

Example: Dante uses this type in “The Divine Comedy.”

The characters of Beatrice and Virgil represent the concepts of divine revelation and human reason, respectively, but they also represent real people who actually lived.

The other type is personification allegory:

To write your allegorical character here, give them no identity apart from the concept they are supposed to represent.

Example: “Everyman,” which is a morality play from the 15th century, is an example of this type in which the characters are given names such as Beauty, Death, Knowledge, and Strength.

5 Tips for Using Allegory in Writing

Think of an important idea you want to share with your reader. It should be something large and complex, and something that relates to the society you live in on a large scale.

Once you’ve decided on a topic, plan out your allegory. Think of how you will translate these real-world ideas into fictional scenes and characters. Carefully assign characters: animals are common, as in Aesop’s Fables and Animal Farm, but there is no rule about what sort of characters to use.

Whatever you choose, remember that your audience will be trying to figure out who each character represents in real life, so try not to confuse them with unrelated characters whose purpose is not clear.

Be sure to let your reader know how to read between the lines. You will need to leave clues without over-explaining your message. Don’t be so subtle that the readers will miss the point of the allegory.

The surface story must stand on its own. While the underlying message can be a bit abstract, this isn’t an essay or a speech. The top layer must still make sense and be intriguing in its own right.

Sources: 1 2 3

If this inspires your writing in any way, do tag me, or send me a link. I would love to read your work!

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spaceorphan18 · 2 months

Text

THE LADY WHISTLEDOWN PAPERS : 1X01 - A DIAMOND OF THE FIRST WATER (PART 4)

Hi! Welcome back to The Lady Whistledown Papers, where I’m taking an in-depth look at Penelope Featherington and Colin Bridgerton’s character arcs and romance within the show Bridgerton!

For previous issues, follow tag : The Lady Whistledown Papers

Alright, finally wrapping up the first episode but it ends with some really good stuff!

Dinner

I'm kind of amused that I've managed to ignore the main Simon/Daphne plot as long as I've could... But here we are at a Bridgerton family dinner where we get to see the family dynamics on brilliant display as Violet arranged all of this so Simon and Daphne could hang out.

Fascinatingly, the first subject of talk is the identity of Lady Whistledown, and it's a fun little conversation as they start guessing who it could possibly be. Colin, hilariously, suggests it could be a man -- only to rightfully be shotdown by Eloise because how dare he. Colin isn't even going to know who Lady Whistledown is when he's sleeping with her, so boy really does not have the highest of deduction skills.

Hyacinth, of all people, will get the closest when she guesses Lady Featherington. It's amusing that she's consistently used as a sort of prophet. I'm looking forward to seeing what kind of role she plays throughout the show.

Most of this scene is dedicated to Simon and Daphne... falling in love? idk. What I do like about it, though is something I enjoy in general about Bridgerton as a whole -- the fact that it does rather well with sibling dynamics. There are a lot of personalities at that table, and it's kind of cool to see how they can be all similar and all different at the same time.

Colin remains chatting and laughing with Benedict. We don't really get enough of a conversation to be able to really comment but, it does look like they're having a great conversation. We don't get a whole lot of reaction from Colin as to the whole Simon/Daphne thing so -- I don't really have much to say on that front either, but it'll be interesting tracking it through the season.

Dance

I never noticed they are in a boat -- so... this is on an island? What is even going on? What ball is this again? Do I really need to watch ALL of Season 1 for this project?

You know, we don't get a ton of Colin and Benedict stuff throughout the years, but they often are having fun in the background while Anthony is brooding up front.

Alright, so, LET'S GET INTO MY FAVORITE MOMENT OF THE EPISODE!

I really should have gone back and watched the previous scenes to figure out where exactly they are but I didn't, ah well. It looks like more like a festival of sorts more than a ball, which I think is pretty cool because the actual ballrooms start to feel the same after awhile.

Anyway... we have Pen just kind of standing by herself looking lonely. Interestingly, she does look like she's looking for someone? But she says she wasn't expecting him, so I wonder if she's just glancing around in Lady Whistledown mode?

The way she jumps and immediately lights up when she sees him. She's shocked to see him, but so delighted that he has sought her out. And it's interesting to note that he goes looking for her first thing -- granted it's for information -- but still he does seek her out at every social gathering. ;) No, but this is important. In both their interactions now, he has come to her. She may be the one with the crush, but she's not following him around like a love-sick puppy.

I should have mentioned it before, but in both instances he has called her 'Pen'. Not Miss Featherington (Which would have been appropriate) not Penelope. Just Pen. It speaks to their level of familiarity and established relationship. It also isn't appropriate for an unmarried man and woman of no relation to call each other by their first names, let alone a nickname. Episode 1 and they're already breaking rules.

It's the same with the little bow they give each other. It's such an after thought, such a -- oh right, we're outside and have to adhere to society rules where men and women greet each other in a certain way, but they do so halfheartedly. They don't really care about what society wants when they're around each other.

Penelope exclaims that she didn't know he'd be there (an interesting comment - I wonder why not) and then he says 'sorry to disappoint'. And that's a telling comment. It's self deprecating humor. He's not used to anyone wanting or needing him around and/or preferring Anthony or Benedict instead. But also, he (probably) assumes that she'd probably prefer Eloise to join her over him.

But her lighting up when she sees him doesn't really go unnoticed -- subconsciously anyway. It's infectious when you have someone who is genuinely excited to see you -- especially when you're used to being the one that is not being sought after. And he is genuinely happy to see her, too -- even if he's asking about Marina, he still has a warm smile for her. They both latch on to the genuine affection they have for the other one.

Colin asks about Marina, and the way Pen's face just falls when he does so. :( She realizes that he had an ulterior motive when coming to speak to her, and that guts her a little. (as a note - it's implied a little earlier in the episode that Marina is pregnant. It's not officially said - but they get into it more in episode 2. Obviously, that's important to this plot...)

Pen explains that Marina's illness is why Portia isn't around and why Lord Featherington is chaperoning. Colin grins at this -- I can only imagine how hilarious he finds it that Lord Featherington has to be (semi-)involved in his daughters' lives. I haven't really spoken much about him yet, but at best, you could claim that Lord Featherington was a neglectful father. He doesn't really interact with any of his daughters, nor does he seem to care all that much. I have to imagine that Colin, at least a little bit understands this, hence it's so amusing that he's there now.

Pen then is excited to show off her dress. It's not yellow! It's still a girlish pink with hints of blue (foreshadowing through clothes? maybe?). She still looks like a child a bit, but she doesn't stand out so much. She can blend in a bit more, and not feel as if everyone is making fun of her for her clothes.

In a way, the 'not yellow enough' comment was a little self deprecating, too. As the two of them have that in common -- that they both feel unseen and unwanted in society.

She's also trying to get his attention -- trying to get him to check her out. It's awkward and cute and I love how excited she is in her attempt. The thing is, he does notice! We don't really see his reaction to her comment -- but if you look you can tell that he is grinning back at her as they talk.

And then Cressida comes along and spoils their moment. So. Here's the thing I've noticed already about Cressida. Lady Featherington and Lady Cowper are friends. Sorta. They mean girl together. And as we learn in season 3, Lady Cowper has instilled this kind of ruthlessness into Cressida as a way of survival.

I also wonder -- did Cressida spend time with the Featherington girls? It's interesting that Lady Cowper is always around, but we don't see Cressida at the house. I wonder where she is and what she's doing. I will say -- I don't think Cressida is friends at all with Prudence or Phillipa. All three aren't very nice -- but Cressida is much shaper and pointed with her unkindness, while Prudence and Phillipa are just kind of dumb. And I can see Cressida poking fun at them as much as she does with Penelope.

Here's the thing. I want to joke how ridiculous it is that no one seems to notice that Pen is deeply pining for Colin. She is so open about her feelings but the thing is, no one really seems to notice her and that's why no one ever calls her out on it.

Except, I like to believe that Cressida does.

There's no real reason for Cressida to interject herself into their conversation other than she wants to be mean for the sake of it. I don't think she has any real interest in Colin other than his name and the fact that dancing with him would put a mark on her dance card.

Pen interjects on Cressida's attempt and that's when Cressida's claws come out. Cressida's mother (as we'll learn) has taught her to see any other woman as a form of competition. Pen was making a comment because she and Colin are friends and in a way already more than friends. They have a solid, established relationship. Cressida is looking at Colin as a way to achieve a goal. And Pen is getting in the way of that.

So Cressida does what she has been taught and tries to eliminate any kind of competition. And some of it is trashing on someone the ton already trashes on but it's also digging the knife in a little deeper, because I do think Cressida knows that Pen isn't just talking to some guy at a party, she's talking to a guy she likes and has feelings for.

Cressida probably over heard her, too, that Penelope was happy about her dress choice. So what does she do? Dump water (?) over the front of her dress. Not only was Penelope having a moment of confidence but Cressida's cruelty takes that away as she embarrasses Pen. But also she claims to not have not even seen Penelope there. Obviously she did, but it adds to the fact that Pen is often seen as wallpaper, nothing to really take note of.

Colin's face during all of this though! Because here's the thing. Here's the THING and why I love Colin. He probably wouldn't have really entertained Cressida as a dance partner unless he had to. That's... a whole other thing. But the minute she started cutting in front of Pen. The minute she pulls this stunt on his very good friend, it's over.

Cruelty is not part of Colin's nature, and seeing other people mean is an automatic turn off for him. But more than that, Cressida just trashed someone he does care about, and that is unacceptable. Look how hard his face is in this moment - he's pissed off at her for what she did.

And then just look at the way his face softens as he turns his attention to Pen. It's caring and gentle and he's looking out for her right from the beginning!

But I mean, also, what he does is so calculated and is such a badass moment. He beats Cressida at her own game. Not only does he completely deny her a dance, he decides that Penelope is the more worthy choice and snatches her up (as a mess as she is at the moment). He doesn't spare Cressida a second look. He'd dance with Penelope anyway, he doesn't need an excuse, but to play society's games as a way to punch back at Cressida for being mean to Pen -- is just so ballsy. He may not be a huge fan of the rules, but he knows how to play them and when it matters.

I also should note that Colin has a sort of hero complex, too, that comes into play. He likes to be the one to help people, to save people, and what he's doing is saving Pen from humiliation. He does genuinely care for her. But he also won't let someone be trashed because for the sake of it.

And I mean... we should take note of this moment -- because it's going to haunt Cressida for a long, long time. You just fucked with Lady Whistledown in front of her husband, Cressida. Your days are numbered.

And, I mean, look at the utter shock on Pen's face as he reaches for her hand. His kindness is why she loves him, and this just adds another moment to that pile. No one else really looks out for her. No one else really sees her. No one else would really stand up to Cressida and put her first. It's no wonder she's gone for him.

But then here's the thing. As we get our fun, little Irish jig started, Colin just looks delighted as they get to the dance floor. Cressida is all but forgotten as the two of them settle into their dance together. Pen is still shaken a bit as they start, but Colin has no qualms about what he had just done. In fact, he's proud of himself. But more so -- now he and Pen can just have fun -- as they always do.

This is not the first time they've danced together (as will be alluded to in the next episode). They probably danced a bit and enjoyed themselves, and as Pen settles into it, they both just have fun together.

And the jig is something to notice as dance is important in this show. It's fun and lively but it's also still a little childish, a game. It's not serious courtship, not yet, but it's enjoyment and playfulness but it's purposeful! As this level of caring and understanding and joy are the basis for their friendship and therefore the basis of their eventual relationship.

I mean just look at these idiots not knowing that they're really falling in love with each other.

I love everything about this scene so much!!

Okay, I have to close out on this shot of Pen. Because this is important. As Simon and Daphne come in with their little scheme to fake dating, Penelope is watching. And in fact, if you notice (Nicola Coughlan confirmed it) Pen is always just right there, noticing the action that's going on. And therefore Lady Whistledown is right there.

In this shot its obvious that it's her, but I'll be keeping an eye out because she does this a lot if you're looking for her. She's almost like a Where's Waldo cartoon!!

And that's finally Episode 1!! Whoo we made it! :)

#bridgerton #polin #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #penelope bridgerton #colin x penelope #polination #the lady whistledown papers

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flightfoot · 2 years

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Miraculous Ladybug Fanfic Recs for 2022

As a lot of you know, I read metric butt-ton of Miraculous fanfics, so I wanted to share with you 19 multi-chap fics, and 16 Miraculous one-shots (I just went through all the ones I really wanted to rec people instead of trying to fit a particular number) that I think y’all should take a look at. I tagged people’s tumblr blogs when I knew them, but I may well have missed some, especially if their username was different between AO3 and tumblr. Feel free to tag authors who I missed. Note that I’m only counting fics that were completed in 2022, so no ongoing fics. Enjoy!

Multi-chap fics:

When The Morning Comes by @into-september:

Gabriel Agreste has been unmasked as Hawkmoth, and the girl who was fighting him all these years turns out to be Tom Dupain's daughter. And standing between them is Adrien Agreste with his life in shatters that Tom Dupain has no way of piecing together.

But baking is at least a place to start.

I love how this not only digs into Adrien’s character, but Tom’s as well, especially how both of them have been estranged from their fathers. I haven’t seen that come up much.

---

Walking That Mile by @nomolosk

Nino and Alya wake up in the wrong bodies. Several things result from this, including, but not limited to, identity reveals and a better understanding of what their respective best friends are going through.

Never knew I needed Nino!Plagg and Alya!Tikki in my life, but there you go XD. It’s not all fun and games though, this is a Hawkmoth Takedown fic as well, and dealing with the effects of that.

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The Sidekick Conspiracy by @bring-the-storm:

It's common knowledge among the heroes of Paris that their sidekick, the civilian Marinette Dupain-Cheng, is actually secretly their leader, pretending to be a normal girl who just ‘happens’ to show up at battles. Common knowledge to everyone except Marinette. What do you do when you're in the center of a conspiracy that doesn’t actually exist? In which Marinette is confused, Chat has no idea what's going on, Master Fu just wants Marinette to be safe, and everyone is misinterpreting the situation.

This one is just fun! Marinette has no idea she keeps on being given jewelry all of a sudden, and Fu’s frustrated that she won’t actually USE the damn Miraculous already.

---

As the dust settles by @pengirl91:

After Ladybug lost everything and yet her partner stood by her, she realized what she had been trying to lie to herself about for months. She is undoubtedly in love with him. The only problem is that she's terrified of what that could lead to and there's a monumental task ahead of them before it might be safe to act on her feelings for him... more than she already has.

Post Strike Back with my hopes, wishes, and predictions for season 5 as I wait with great impatience. Now complete.

The meat of this story is mostly a SentiAdrien fic. Adrien discovers that Gabriel is Hawkmoth, so Gabriel orders him to stay silent about what he found out, as well as giving orders to help him with plans to obtain the Miraculous he needs. Luckily, he doesn’t know that Adrien is Chat Noir...

---

A Little Fall Of Rain by @funnydoesntlookdruish:

Unable to transform in time, Marinette sacrifices her life to save Adrien from an assassin. With the help of the Kwamis, Adrien is able to bring her back to life, but it comes at a price. One that Adrien alone must pay. Now, Adrien is forced to keep even more secrets. The fact that Marinette is alive and that she has been his Lady all long. More than ever, they must defeat Hawkmoth. Only then can Marinette return to her life.

This one’s pretty angsty, arguably even more on Adrien’s end than Marinette’s. As part of their cover, Adrien has to be injured pretty badly, in ways that couldn’t be reversed if not for magic.

---

Strangely Familiar by @sunfoxfic

Alya Césaire’s life is perfect. Indeed, between the success of the Ladyblog, how well she’s doing in school, and the fact that she’s a superhero who has never bore the weight of a crisis of epic proportions, her life almost couldn’t be better. Almost.

But Alya has always been a go-getter, and so she’ll chase after that perfect life if it kills her. Which is how she ends up rushing to move out of her father’s apartment and in with Marinette, Adrien, and a complete stranger: Nino Lahiffe. And in fact, her life does seem perfect — she and Nino are fast friends. They spend a lot of time together and get to know each other really well.

But in the end, fortunate situations will bear unfortunate truths, and she learns things about herself that aren’t quite comfortable. Like I said, though: Alya has always been a go-getter, and she won’t let new feelings deter her from chasing after her perfect life.

This is the single longest DJWifi-centric fic on AO3 (which is a travesty) and it is GLORIOUS. Alya and Nino are both well fleshed-out here, with their own problems and baggage they’re dealing with, but it’s easier together.

---

final girl by @picayunearts:

Marinette has ninety-nine problems, and the superhero trio of Paris counts for a hundred.

[AU where Marinette follows through on giving up her earrings after Stoneheart, but becomes the Guardian to protect her replacement.]

This is just great. Marinette thinks she failed, but the other heroes wouldn’t agree. And eventually, she gains some confidence in herself as well.

---

Over and Over by @stcrsquad:

Marinette Dupain-Cheng has had the worst day possible. She's failed to confess to Adrien (again), made an embarrassment of herself, and got into a fight with Chat Noir.

Adrien Agreste has had the worst day possible. He is tired of being pushed aside by everyone, including his crime-fighting partner Ladybug.

Luckily, fate (and Bunnyx) works in mysterious ways because they wake up again on the same day. A do-over. Except it keeps happening. Can the two figure out what they need to fix to break the loop, or will they be stuck forever?

Look these two will sit down and has things out even if it takes being stuck in a time loop together to make that happen.

---

When Bunnyx Brings A Baby by @funnydoesntlookdruish:

Marinette thought she was up to any challenge. She was Ladybug after all! But when Bunnyx arrives with a baby in her arms asking her to babysit, Marinette quickly learns that Akuma battles are easy compared to taking care of a baby. A baby that seems to know her and for some strange reason... Adrien?

Anentry in the “Lovesquare has to babysit their future children” genre! This is just adorable. Has an ongoing sequel too.

---

The Call of the Running Tide by @nemaliwrites:

To escape an arranged marriage, Adrien runs away from home, leaving behind all that he has ever known. In search of easy transportation, he sneaks aboard a ship at the docks. Everything seems like it is going according to plan — until he finds out that the ship belongs to the fierce pirate captain Ladybug.

I’m amazed this isn’t more popular. I mean, Lovesquare pirates!AU, with the Miracuclass as Ladybug’s crew? Come on!

It mostly has Adrien trying to fit in with the crew, find his way, that sort of thing. Though there is a confrontation with his father at the end.

---

metamorphosis by @peachcitt:

“I was thinking about that time you hated me.” “Why?” "I don’t know." “I didn’t.” “I know.”

three years after hawkmoth's defeat, marinette is still trying to figure out her version of normal. there's also sleepovers.

This has been a very popular fic so most people probably at least know of it, even if they haven’t read it themselves, but in case someone out there hasn’t: basically, Chat runs off with the Butterfly and Peacock Miraculouses after Hawkmoth’s defeat and never shows up again, worrying Ladybug sick and making her fear that he died. But then a mysterious new Butterfly Holder starts attacking Paris, only he seems a lot nicer than the last one, more of an Anti-villain than anything...

A Major Test of Strength by @nemaliwrites:

There is only one thing in Paris hated as much as the akumas: Ladybug herself. In an effort to help the Savior of Paris, Adrien winds up on the wrong end of an akuma attack — only to find himself stuck reliving the same day.

With enough time, anyone can be a hero, and as he continues dying over and over, he is forced to confront the idea that these loops may be just as much of a blessing as they are a curse.

This is loosely inspired by “All You Need Is Kill”, but no knowledge of that manga is needed to understand the story. There’s a bit of a mystery element going on as Adrien tries to figure out why he keeps dying even when he takes steps to prevent it, how he keeps coming back, and what the deal is with Ladybug, anyway.

---

Cataclysm by Lucid:

When Chat Noir uses Cataclysm on an akumatized ring that ends up being his amok, Marinette is left alone to solve the mystery of Hawkmoth's motives and bring back her missing partner.

This Sentiadrien fic does something I haven’t seen really explored before: it delves into what might happen if Adrien had to be recreated after having been destroyed, and the problems that might arise from that attempt. I love when we get to see Adrien’s perspective especially.

---

in case you don’t know me tomorrow by @thelibraryloser:

“We live in a crazy world where pieces of our lives can be erased like they never even happened. I just wanted to memorize this moment so… so I could keep it, if that makes sense.”

Adrien's heart gave a little flutter. She wanted to keep this moment, meeting him. She wanted to keep… him.

“I understand exactly what you mean."

In a world that has created a way to selectively delete memories, no moment is truly safe. So how do you hold on to something when the memory of it is gone? And how do you keep fighting for someone when you're the only one who remembers?

This is a SEVERELY underrated fic. It’s got some shades of “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” in the world, though the plot is very different - the memory erasure ain’t willing.

Basically, the first few chapters are establishing Adrien’s and Marinette’s romance, and then the rest of the fic is dealing with Gabriel being an absolute DICK and using any means at his disposal to break them apart. It’s fantastic and I highly recommend reading it!

---

Shelltering Others by @rosie-b:

When Ladybug wakes Nino up in the middle of the night to scold him for revealing his identity, he thinks his career as a Miraculous holder is over. But instead, Ladybug gives him the opportunity to prove himself by becoming Chat Noir's confidant and learning his secret identity through a scavenger hunt of sorts. Will Nino pass Ladybug and Chat Noir's test, or will he fail to put the pieces together in time?

Quick disclaimer here: the first chapter looks kinda salty towards Nino, with Ladybug laying into him for revealing his and Alya’s secret identities to Adrien and Marinette. She’s mostly just trying to scare him into taking them seriously, though, since she herself has just proposed that Nino become Chat’s secret-keeper, and he can’t afford to be lackadaisical with that identity. I highly recommend getting through at least chapter 2 of the fic when giving it a shot, because this had some great character development and introspection for Nino, on Chat Noir, Adrien, Ladybug, and himself.

---

run boy run by tinuviel_tinuviel

Nino was sprawled on the floor of his room with Alya when his phone chimed, in the quiet of a premature autumnal sunset. It was one of those lazy evenings that had become rare lately. Contrary to popular belief, he and Alya could get studying done when in the same room, and he was elbows-deep in late assignments, which meant his phone was on Do Not Disturb, which meant the notification could only have come from one person.

ADRIEN 🐈: cmoe ove rnow ADRIEN 🐈: like riggt now ADRIEN 🐈: plag NINO: that is literally incomprehensible NINO: wait is that you plagg ADRIEN 🐈: mov faster

So this is a “Adrien finds out that his father is Hawkmoth and consults with Nino about what to do” fic, with Nino throwing Hawkmoth off Adrien’s track, though inadvertently at his own expense. Love Nino’s perspective here, and I always enjoy a good Hawkmoth-takedown fic!

---

Restorative Justice by @kasienda:

Chloé has never been a fan of Ms. Bustier’s community building activities. In fact, she detests them. She doesn’t want to learn about the drab boring lives of her peers. And she absolutely can’t stand it when their confessions make her feel things. Feelings that she doesn’t even have names for. But when Adrien unknowingly shares his struggles with his double life, Chloé vows she will do anything to get Ladybug to set things right. Even if it means pissing off the heroine. Chloé was already mad at her anyway.

I ADORE people talking out about what hurt them, with everyone growing to understand each other, and focusing on making recompense rather than just punishment, so this was fantastic. This isn’t all about Chloe either, Marinette, Adrien, Alya, and Nino all get to hash things out with each other as well in a group session, and it’s just really, really nice to read.

---

48 Hours To Make You Love Me by @mysticraven20:

“When did you stop?”

“Stop what, M’Lady?”

“Stop loving me?”

When two heroes miss the minibus for their winter get away with the gang they have no other choice but to make their way to the resort by themselves.

After avoiding their feelings for years, a freak snow storm makes them reconsider more than just whether to carry on driving.

Luckily, they find a quaint little bed and breakfast where suddenly they’re thrown into a situation where their feelings can no longer be held back; but, is it too late?

The interference of an elderly couple after an eavesdropping accident helps both Adrien and Marinette come to terms with their feelings and their actions.

Through movies, hot chocolates and snuggling to keep warm, Marinette wonders if it’s possible to make Adrien love her again, and more so can she do it by the time they need to leave their little sanctuary?

This just has a lot of adorable Adrienette shenanigans, with a fun time travel twist that had me inwardly squealing XD. If you want some Lovesquare fluff, this is a good one.

---

team is a four letter word by @ladyofthenoodle:

Alya didn’t want to come between Ladybug and Chat Noir. But she didn’t want to stop being Rena Rouge either. And if Chat Noir didn’t want to talk to her, then she’d need to find a different way to prove all three of them could be a team.

Her plan unintentionally brings a few secrets to light, which leads to even more secrets coming to light, which leads to... well, Alya is sure it'll all work out eventually.

This is a season 4 fic, with a heavy emphasis on repairing the relationships that were damaged, or could have been damaged, during that season. I love how everyone gets to really feel and react, be hurt and then gain understanding, with a happy ending to cap it off!

One-shots:

hella enchanted by @xiueryn:

Years ago, Marinette's father died and she was left with her awful stepmother. With magic forcing her to obey every command, she lived as a servant and gave up hope. When a man appears, searching for the very fairy that blessed her, Marinette decides to give life one more try. AU.

(a different ella enchanted au.)

Even though it’s a one-shot this one is pretty long, clocking in at over 30k words. Absolutely worth a shot, though. The first third is basically Marinette dealing with being pushed around because of her “blessing”, and the other two-thirds is just some adorable fluff of her and Adrien touring the country together.

------

Is it cool that you’re in my head? by @bring-the-storm:

Alya stared at the picture plastered across the homepage of every single tabloid and news site, whispering every curse she could think of under her breath. SHOCKING SECRET ROMANCE BETWEEN LADYBLOGGER AND PARISIAN SUPERVILLAIN REVEALED!!! the headline announced, casually shouting the words she had been dreading for all of Paris to read.

--- Alya had always assumed that someday Paris would discover that she had secretly been kissing their most wanted vigilante, but she had never thought it would happen so soon. As the domino effects of her relationship with Ladybug go spiraling through her life, Alya turns her sights towards the one responsible: the elusive superhero Hawkmoth.

AKA Someone outs Alya and her girlfriend so she retaliates by deciding to take down Hawkmoth

I recommend this to anyone who either A. Loves Alya and wants to see more of her in a starring role, or B., wants to see an AU where Parisians could feasibly believe that Hawkmoth is the good guy, and that Ladybug and Chat Noir are, if not villains, at least reckless.

----

We’re breaking free (there’s not a star in heaven we can’t reach) by @pauliestorylover:

Wing binding was a symbol of prestige in high society, but Adrien would much rather be born a pauper than be forced to bind his wings for another day. Becoming Chat Noir might be the chance he had been waiting for to break free and gain a taste of the heavens.

Meanwhile, Nino and Marinette were quickly learning the joys of the pastime called ‘hating rich old white men who moonlighted as supervillains’.

Excellent Wingfic here! It’s got some excellent worldbuilding in it. I especially like how it’s customary to exchange feathers with people you’re close to, and put them in particular places on your wings to symbolize what they mean to you, whether they’re friends, family, or lovers. That particular piece of lore is used to great effect in the story.

---

How Could I Not? by SorryJustAnotherPerson

In fairy tale books, Princesses were saved by nights from ferocious dragons. Those books were not their story, but Rose was happy to flip over a new page with her Juleka every single day.

Many years ago, she was put to this tower by her parents and her kingdom, along with a fire breathing dragon, so she could find her prince charming one day. How foolish for them to not calculate her falling in love with the dragon. I mean seriously.

How could she not?

I love fairy tale type stories, especially fractured fairy tales. And Juleka being a dragon is awesome. This is just a fun and adorable story.

---

Once Upon A Time by kao_rei:

"Humans fear wolves. I mean, we're horrible, sickening creatures, aren't we?" Adrien laughed.

"I don't think so," Marinette muttered. "Well, not anymore when I met you."

Marinette's days are all the same—she puts on her red cape, makes deliveries for her parents' bakery, and goes home to rest before another busy day. Adrien is a wolf-boy who watches her from afar, awaiting the day they finally meet to change their stories.

While falling in love may bring about some challenges, they're willing to fight through them together because they'd never settle for a "the end". They want a "happily ever after", too.

(In which Marinette is Little Red Riding Hood, Adrien is the Wolf, and they fall in love somewhere between deliveries, flower fields, and shiny red apples).

Did I mention I love fairy tale stories? Because I do.

---

(pockets full of) stones by felledstar:

Even though he wants to be “normal” and go to a “normal school” and have friends just like everyone else, Adrien’s discovered that he’s… not very good at it. It isn’t that he’s a superhero in his nonexistent spare time, or that he’s got a job modelling for his father, or that he’s got so many activities that it takes a whole other person to keep track of his schedule. It’s that… he’s always tripping over things that everyone else seems to know that he… just doesn’t know.

First day of school and we already have two lovebirds.

But there are some things that he does know, no matter what anyone else—Nino, Plagg, the entire population of Paris—thinks.

How he feels is one.

Whatever. She’s just a friend. A friend.

He loves Ladybug. Marinette is his friend.

Why doesn’t anyone believe him?

This is an aroace!Adrien story, that digs into the effects of amatonormativity on people. Especially with how the class all assumes that Adrien would be romantically interested in Marinette, and tries to matchmake him and Marinette in order to make both of them happy, much to his frustration. Based on what the class did in Guiltrip, I could see this happening. They love and care about their classmates and want to help them as much as they can, but that doesn’t mean they always know how best to do that.

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Lady... bird? by @graaythekwami:

“Marinette!” Tikki called, flying towards the small room of water. “Marinette there’s an akuma– we need to transform!”

The parrot’s head popped up, recognizing these words. They were always said when the report came on TV– a routine he had come to know well. Akuma report, we need to transform, and finally–

“Tikki!” The bird cawed happily. “Spots on!”

This story is just hilarious. Tikki ain’t happy afterwards XD

---

I Won’t Let You by @generalluxun

After Gabriel's defeat, two individuals not party to the celebration run into each other, and find each other.

The summary doesn’t give much of an idea of what the fic’s about. Post-Hawkmoth Defeat, Chloe and Felix run into each other at the celebration of Gabriel’s downfall, and vent about their problems. Neither of them think the other one has it too bad - Chloe’s worried about disappearing, since her worth was entirely tied to her family’s prestige and wealth, and being seen as friends to a terrorist is gonna cripple both of those, while Felix is on edge about Ladybug having the Peacock Miraculous, since she has the ability to kill him at a moment’s notice (yes this is a Sentifelix fic).

They both make each other understand the turmoil the other is going through in extremely visceral ways, showing the other what it’s like to be them, in the circumstances they’re in. I don’t want to spoil what, exactly, they do, but needless to say, it’s worth a read.

---

don’t you worry child by kopycat_101

Marc and Nathaniel have a good life, married and living together in a cottage in the woods. But they consider having children at some point.

Marc in particular really wants to start a family with his husband. He knows the fey are real, so he goes searching in the woods to find one to strike a deal.

He may get a bit more than he bargained for in the process.

This is based on a tumblr post that’s been going around, which I think a lot of people will recognize as they continue going through the story. That post is credited at the end of the fic, so as not to spoil the plot.

---

Chat Walker’s Trial by @pearl484-blog

Instead of Catwalker showing up to serve as her new Chat Noir, Ladybug is stunned to find that Chat Noir has returned to her, having "improved" himself by repressing his emotions, memories, and willfulness. Deciding that this will not stand, she organizes her teammates to convince Chat Noir that giving those traits up and becoming the perfect partner was not the right move, but how can she argue against perfection?

Adrien Augreste 2022 entry for the day 23-24 prompt: Swap

This is a really intriguing fic. Instead of becoming Cat Walker in Kuro Neko, Adrien instead runs across a mage who helpfully provides some spells to make him into the “perfect” partner for Ladybug, magically suppressing his emotions and urge to rebel, as well as his memories of being Chat Noir, in order to make sure he doesn’t love her anymore. Ladybug, naturally, is distraught about this, but since Chat did all of this of his own free will, she needs to actually persuade him it was a bad move, which isn’t as easy as it sounds. It’s exquisitely painful at times with the amount of self-hatred Chat has for his previous self, and how the Miracuteam is divided on how bad these changes actually are, since he does seem more focused now - though the holdouts are a lot less on board when they think of someone who’s closer to them going through this process.

---

disconnected by @just-an-ordinary-fan

Lady Wifi believes she might be the only one who does not want to obey Hawkmoth's orders.

When she sees another akuma hesitate in the battle, she finds she might not be entirely alone.

I actually wrote my own fic, Nullius in Verba, based off of this one. It’s short but has an intriguing premise, with all the akumas being transported to this warehouse after the fight’s over, having been basically forced to do Hawkmoth’s bidding. The akumas also don’t seem to remember who they were before, or even that they WERE ordinary people before, which is an interesting twist.

---

Shadow of the Chat by @pearl484-blog

Chat Noir discovers that he has a living Shadow. Unfortunately for him, it is not fond of Ladybug.

Inspired by the prompt: 5 times Character A and B thought they didn’t have anything in common and 1 time they realized how similar they are.

I wrote a fic based on this one and @wackus-bonkus-maximus fic “One Does Not Love Breathing”, basically importing Shadow into odnlb in order to help take down Monarch. It’s called “One Does Not Love Shadows”, btw.

Anyway, I love how this one-shot uses some of Carl Jung’s ideas about everyone having “shadows”; parts of ourselves that we consciously reject or suppress, and using that to get Chat some help. If you’ve ever played a Persona game, this will be familiar to you, as those games are based off of Jung’s ideas as well.

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Day 7: Book by @andromeda612

During one of his works, Marc comes across a rather interesting book.

MarcNath AU fic here! Basically Marc is a super powerful warlock, and is brought in to help with the case of a lying witch who apparently caused a lot of problems for people, using her magic to help fool everyone. She’s actually dead by the time the story starts, and everyone’s trying to go back through and figure out what she’s done and why memories surrounding her seem to be foggy. Meanwhile there’s a book she left behind which appears to be sentient, and which Marc’s taken a liking too...

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Find the Sentimonster by @taketwoinink:

Nino has a lot of conspiracies. He watched one too many mystery movies and now fancies himself a detective. It's not often that he gets the entire class together for an interrogation, but it's never fun. Chloe makes everyone's life miserable and Marinette and Lila never get along.

And this time? Secret sentimonsters in their class? The fate of Paris hanging in the balance?

Mylene doesn't need this stress in her life.

This is based off of an episode of Glitch Techs, so if you’ve seen the show, it might be familiar. I just really enjoyed watching the class trying to puzzle out who the sentimonster spy might be, with all the wild accusations and theories being hurled around, especially knowing the actual truth.

Come Take My Hand by @carelisswriting:

Luka heard his soulmate for the first time when he was ten. All he knows about her is that she likes fencing. It's just a coincidence that Kagami likes fencing, right?

(Lukagami Soulmate AU, written for the Miraculous Ladybug Secret Santa Exchange!)

I’m a sucker for soulmate fics, and this had an interesting take on it, with your soulmate able to hear you thinking only about the thing you’re most passionate about. Loved Kagami’s way of showing Luka she’s his soulmate especially!

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When Feelings Are Too Big For Words by ClockworkCaptain:

When Luka takes a gig playing for a drag show he's falls hard and fast for the drag queen Buttercup who uses her performances to work through her own emotions. Meanwhile Adrien's been using drag to work through his own emotions and thinks maybe Luka coming back into his life and showing interest might mean a second chance.

Made for @mlsecretsanta 2022

Published on New Year’s Eve, this just barely makes it to the deadline for this list. I’m glad I don’t need to wait a year to talk about it though! One of the issues I tend to have with Luka shipfics, and with Lukadrien especially (though I think Lukanette actually has this problem worse) is how Luka tends to disappear within the fic and the pairing, feeling more like “The Love Interest” than his own person. Not so here! While most of the intrigue surrounds Adrien, I still got the sense of Luka being his own person, not just existing in the fic for Adrien.

I adored Adrien getting to display an aspect of himself through persona and performance - that does align well with how he approaches Chat Noir - and overall I just had a lot of fun with this fic!

#miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic rec #ml fanfics #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #Along with a lot of other assorted characters #But let's be real #Most of these are about those two #I do have others in here though

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achillesmonochrome · 7 days

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Ranting about the end of mha, almost two months later; because why not.

This is in regards to you-know-who losing you-know-what.

I imagine people know by now but in case somebody is scrolling to the tag, spoilers about the end of MHA.

So, for reasons that nobody really cares about; I stopped reading the manga for awhile, and came back for the ending.

Reading that Midoriya didn't have OFA was sad, but I thought that surely, there was a good reason for this, truly, this was the only way. So even if I felt was a bit contrived he getting a suit at the end that basically gives him his powers back; it had his friends paying back the kindness Izuku has shown to them, and he kept his dream so, it was just a minor hiccup on the ending.

Because my country is a fucking shit shot and I needed something to take my mind off things, I ended up rewatching the my hero academia anime, watching for the first time the seasons I missed, and ended up reading the manga bits that I had neglected all this time.

And with that insight in mind...holy shit what was the point?

Izuku giving OFA in order to somehow "break into Tenko's core" just feel completely contrived? Like okay, they made Shiggy too powerful, I can get that much.

But the fact that "the only way" to defeat him was to attack this core with the quirks? The idea of somehow throwing a quirk strongly enough (how does that even made sense)? Why Izuku needed to reach this core in the first place?

What was all of that?

"Duh! He wanted to reach the little boy crying!"

I'm sorry, was I dumb to think that was a metaphor for Shigaraki deserving saving, even if he was a villain who Midoriya couldn't forgive, and not somehow looking like Shigaraki had DID and Izuku wanted to reach a specific identity stuck deeply in the mind for some reason?

Was this really, the only way he could do this? Let me remind me you the idea of being a core, and that the core needed the users to break it for some reason, were all new things introduced not long before Izuku had one of the past users give him this idea.

This isn't like the vestiges, who appear as early as the Sports Festival, this came out of the blue; and truly, Horikoshi could had come up with another ending.

This didn't save Shigaraki, Izuku didn't even attempt to talk to Shigaraki and save him honestly; so why did we need this? Why did it had to end this way?

This rubs me the wrong way specially with Izuku getting the suit; because we had this nonsensical reason for him to give up OFA, just to end the story with him basically having that back.

Sure, the suit isn't OFA, and I think it would be a neat idea exploring how the suit may need things like maintenance, being careful not to break it, and things like being taken by surprise making him more vulnerable than other heroes.

But this is the end and the story doesn't explore any of that.

And look, as much as I love the idea that class 1A and Bakugo specially, wanting Deku back as a hero, enough to fund this project even if Izuku seemed content with his life, I just feel we took the little stakes we got at the end, just to be like naaaaaah.

I was willing to let that go, because I thought there was surely, a good reason to give up OFA.

But knowing how things actually went down...what was the point, again?

#mha critical #bnha critical #mha #bnha

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tavyliasin · 18 days

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Writer Interview Tag

I was tagged by @redroomroaving and once I'd finished feeling about a hundred emotions from reading I managed to follow it up.

I definitely got a little personal as well, and I know I’m prone to rambling so I’ll pop the questions and answers below the cut. A mild CW for discussion of physical pain and some very very light mentions of mental health. Tagging @morb-untamed @sweetmage @dmbakura @hydropyro @ineadhyn @nicocoer @wixed to do this if you would like to, but there is absolutely no pressure to talk about yourselves or in any personal detail. And anyone else reading this who I missed tagging (I forget names and tags so often, forgive me) please feel free to use me as your tag-in and let me know so I can read your answers too.

When did you start writing?

I have no idea, truly. Stories and reading were a big part of my life since before I could read, and as soon as I could read independently I devoured books and imagined stories in quiet moments. There are a few things I’ve worked on under another name, another identity, but no massive published works. A couple of unfinished SFW fanfics, and some larger original projects that remain on hiatus. As for writing smut and spice and taking fanfic more seriously? That all started in September 2023, and has just grown from there. I was hesitant at first, and you’ll see that in my early author notes, but from there I feel I’ve truly grown in my style and skill, as well as my creativity and ability to delve into character details and kink alike.

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

Since writing more, I’ve become a terrible reader. I can’t really focus on it for long because my brain goes into ADHD rebellion and says “no, no, we don’t want to read story we want to create story” which is endlessly frustrating when I have stacks of unread books and a ton of fics earmarked by very talented authors. I will say there is a particular thing many may notice in my works – when writing, I very rarely refer to genitalia in direct terms. It’s just a personal preference when writing, you won’t find the word “cock” in any of my works, but contrary to how it might sound I have absolutely no issue with reading it in the works of others. I am an odd creature, I freely admit that. So…yes, there are themes, pairings, styles, and vocabulary features that I enjoy reading but do not write myself.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

I don’t hear comparisons really, and I don’t aim to emulate anyone either, though I will admit I try to keep just a few little moments of humour or sly winks to the audience in similar ways to Terry Pratchett and Douglas Adams. Just those quick lines or cutaways that for a moment join reader and author in a little shared joke.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

I can only really write comfortably in one place, at my PC. I have 3 screens set up around my seat, which is actually the end seat of a reclining sofa, so I have a heated pad behind my back to reduce pain. I have a mini fridge with drinks on the table beside me with the side screen that has Discord on it at all times, my larger screen (the TV) sometimes has character images for reference or notes or just Spotify up so I can swap songs and playlists quickly. The last screen is in front of me on a table that goes over my footrest, and my keyboard is on a lap desk over my legs.

I’ll almost always have my headphones on, and a small fan when it gets too warm. Sometimes I do end up a little chaotic with snacks in reach and meds also on the table so I don’t have to have anyone fetch them for me.

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

It can’t be controlled. The muse is as fickle as it is demanding, when it’s there it wants everything all at once, and when it’s gone?... It leaves a devastating emptiness that honestly I struggle with at times. Even right now, tonight I planned to write, but when I finally got the free time and got set up…nothing feels appealing to try. So I’m doing this instead, and not forcing it.

There are things I try at times, and things I recommend, too. First? Before you start writing, tend to your basic needs. Do you need a drink? Food? Relevant medication? A nap? A talk with a friend? A bit of fresh air or physical movement? If one of these needs hasn’t been met, it’ll likely soon become an obstacle to your writing. I like to have a drink and snack ready and with me when I start so it’s there as and when I might need it, and I do rely on caffeine like a stereotypically unmedicated ADHD author…

Second, set the mood. It can help for some people to have this routine, to get their playlist going, to be in the right place, to have the things that set a whole zone and bubble. For a while, I had a specific hat I would wear when writing for another project. I could tell myself “I am putting the hat on now, so I will focus and do this thing” and in some way it trained me to write more. I know others who have done things like always listening to a specific genre of music to write, so now when they hear that genre they get the urge to write. Third is take a shower. Nothing gives me more ideas than a good shower, and I even bought a waterproof notepad and pencil set so I can make those notes whilst in there and not fret about forgetting an idea. Other than that, I recommend going back to the thing that inspired you to write. Play the game or watch scenes with the characters you want to write about, find their voices and mindsets. You can also close your eyes and imagine the scene like a play – put the characters on your stage at the start of the scene and watch what they do in the scenario. Let them show you how they react. Some people also do well to write out a plan or bulletpoints, but I find personally this can bite me in the ass because the process of writing can often stray from my original plan. Which isn’t a bad thing, but it can feel frustrating that I didn’t use ideas that I was initially passionate about.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

Ah here it is. Whilst I could go quite simply with the kinks that I keep utilising that don’t surprise me in the slightest – I know well that I enjoy writing a spicy shifting of power balance between strong-minded characters, as well as a lot of BDSM kink – there are deeper parts to this. Identity. That’s a theme that keeps rearing its head beneath a lot of works, and you’ll find it most noticeable in how I write both Haarlep and He Who Was, but it tends to worm its way into other things too. It…did not surprise me, though, because it’s something I have struggled with over this past year within myself.

I created this name, this identity, as a way to be comfortable in sharing kink fiction and spicy works without it being easily identifiable under my actual name. I still don’t like to be too personal, or share my face or real name under this one, because I would rather keep a few close friends and family out of sight of my fandom thirsting. I’m certain a lot of us are the same – it isn’t really about shame but knowing that I, and they, would likely not be comfortable discussing this level of subject matter. I’ve relaxed a little over time, and have no doubt that a few may have worked out who I am and simply kept it quiet which I appreciate endlessly, just as I appreciate that those who do know both of my identities have never shared that information or made it public. I’m happy to meet people in person, just not to have my self online shared with my other self, as I’m sure you can understand. Anyway, I digress…

Something that the keen-eyed accomplice might have noticed in me is a shift in my speech. I used a few more mannerisms and speech patterns, particularly terms of endearment, under this name when I began. It was a way to separate the self, as well as to engage with a different audience in a different way. I explained it to the few who knew both early on as “same person, different font”, because I don’t change who I am just a few parts of how I speak or interact…but I’ve dropped a lot of the endearments now. Partly because there were more than a few who expressed they were uncomfortable with this in conversation – which I fully respect and understand – so it was easier to just drop them entirely rather than double checking or switching vocabulary between people and servers. But it has also fallen away a little as I have become more comfortable with both sides of myself, allowing them to integrate again more, and I owe a good amount of that to being able to meet fandom friends in person and find that they didn’t turn away from knowing all of me and instead have become even better friends.

So…yes, the theme of names and identity keeps popping up. The power of names, the importance of identity, how one can hold on to one’s sense of self when it feels as if it is wavering, or when a role must be played. It’s little wonder I was so strongly drawn to so many favourites. Another recurring theme, of course, is pain. Physical. Whilst this is often in the form of kink and pain play, I’ve written a few pieces where it has been a point that is not about the sexual and positive side. I am in pain. 24/7. Without end. It will not get better. It has been this way for over 10 years. The level of the pain is “I cannot walk more than 10 metres before it is too much”, and “I have to drastically reduce and monitor my physical activity to prevent pain getting worse”, so I feel very intimately familiar with pain. You’ll find it in my writing as visceral and detailed descriptions of the sensations, because I’ve felt every one of them and might just be feeling them in that moment as I write.

I’m going to keep trying to write short comfort pieces, too. Because as I once wrote as a dialogue line for Halsin, when Tav asked how he always seemed to know the right thing to say:

“Sometimes we say the things we need to hear the most.”

What is your reason for writing?

Every reason ever. There’s…not a lot I can do in this body. So many hopes and dreams and even careers I’ve had to leave behind, through the struggles of mental and physical health. Whilst the former is far better, the latter is the issue… But writing is something I can do with little physical effort. If I’m in pain, I can take my medication and absorb into fiction.

I started writing smut as a challenge, but also as a way to tell a story I was becoming rather attached to. My main longfic was one born from playing the game, and wondering about telling the story between the lines, giving reason to the choice the player character was making under my instruction. Since then, it has grown to be so much more.

I’d love to sit here and tell you “I only write for myself, I don’t need external validation” but that…would be a half-truth at best. I write because I love sharing these stories, I love that they can reach out and touch hearts and minds in ways I might never know, but I adore when someone does send back their echo across the vast void between us to say “I enjoyed this” or “this story made me feel something”. That’s…it’s everything to know I have some value. Which sounds a lot like I’m pinning my self-worth on feedback or kudos, and whilst I can’t deny that’s a hard habit to break, I do know it isn’t everything. I just want it to still be something. To know I can do more than just…exist.

Truly if you were to ask me what I feel the purpose is to my entire life, it would be “to leave each corner of the world I touch a little brighter and better than it was before I got there”, and whilst I know that’s impossible to do all the time I still want to try. And writing? Sharing stories? That’s leaving a positive mark, giving someone enjoyment in their day – yes, even sexually, with the kinky and sexy writing. That is still a positive to someone’s day, an indulgence, something that lifts them and certainly nothing to be ashamed of.

If I can do more than that with emotional writing, with comfort pieces, with cathartic moments and with stories that have more meaning behind the words…all the better.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

The best are the ones that pull out favourite lines or moments, but honestly every single comment means the world to me. An incoherent keysmash, a simple “I loved this”, even those are such a boost particularly on a hard day.

Readers, please know how much it helps. Even a click on the kudos as an anonymous guest, it’s…it lets us know we aren’t just shouting into the void. It tells us those Hits are not people just opening up the fic then closing it because they hated it. It means the whole world to know we’ve done something that you enjoyed, in whatever way that was.

I’ll also say that some of the ones that have meant the most and have stuck with me are comments on the more personal pieces, like with The Love of Loviatar – the Abdirak x Reader fic where I play a little with worlds colliding to allow a reader character who experiences chronic pain (remarkably similar to my own, don’t think about that too hard) to have that moment with Abdirak who validates and appreciates them exactly how they are. Gentle care mixed with BDSM, trading the bad pain for the good pain, the pain that is welcome and has purpose, a little fantasy of enjoying what the body can do rather than being trapped by what it cannot… Every time I get a comment there, I damn near cry. Or just openly cry. They mean so much. I know how much Abdirak can mean to us, and I am so glad I can reach you all.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

I…well… To be thought of at all is an honour. I’m shocked any time I encounter someone who has read my works, despite logically knowing I have a good number of readers from the numbers alone. I just…don’t look at those numbers often, it’s not good for me.

I’d like readers to know I care about them. Every last one. To know I would love to tell all the stories they want to read, and that I fully welcome their messages, comments, and even friendship when we share social spaces. There’s something special about the connections we can make in unexpected places, and I’m just delighted to be here sharing stories with you all.

I don’t need high respect, endless adoration, or some kind of pedestal. I’m a human, unfortunately – squishy and fallible and flawed and suffering and there is still beauty and worth to me even when I don’t see it myself. Just saying that last part louder for everyone else who has loud negative thoughts of themselves. It’s ok for you to see my flaws, and it’s ok for us all to have love for one another despite those flaws. Love in the platonic sense, of course – there are levels of connections we make with people from a distant echo of a brief exchange of words to the direct warmth of a friendship. It’s as important to not underestimate the value as it is important to not overestimate our closeness to people we don’t truly know.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

I am beginning to believe it is the wild ideas I have for crackship pairings and turning them into something serious and meaningful. I love taking an unlikely coupling then finding what makes them actually genuinely work.

I’m also getting quite confident in sensual writing as well as kink, in the particular style that I have for it. I know well that it isn’t to everyone’s tastes, but those who do enjoy my style and method will always have something in the buffet of fic to fill their plate.

I really hope to transfer this to my original work when I get it finished, as I feel like just maybe I might have a niche of style that isn’t as often seen in published works. Then again, I’m not exactly devouring raunchy original fiction so perhaps I’m entirely mistaken and would get ripped to shreds by critics of the genre. Who knows? But I will try to get published when it’s done. I hope a few of you might even read it someday.

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

Ahh definitely both. I have written characters and pairings I’m not personally into that much, though sometimes (Yurgir) I have found myself enjoying the character after writing with them. It’s a fun little quirk, I start writing something thinking “am I into this?” and realise later “oops new kink acquired” or “ahh ok I see why people like [character] so much now.”

I do really love writing requests or rare pairings/characters that readers haven’t seen before or are excited to see more of. I hope to keep doing a mix of that and the characters/pairings that I love most myself. If there’s something you’d like to see, I’m more than happy to take suggestions – there are a few kinks, characters, and tropes that I have a hard “nope” line on (not kink shaming, just personal comfort levels – I love that you can enjoy those things elsewhere I am just not the chef to cook that dish for you) but otherwise I love wild ideas and writing something that someone explicitly wants to read~

How do you feel about your own writing?

I really struggle with this one, but I think many of us do. I go from feeling confident that people enjoy what I’ve written and that I have this skill to bring worlds and characters to life with mere words on a page, yet other times? I will freely admit some works of mine take longer because I just hit this point where I just cannot tell if it’s any good. I know intellectually that I have the same style, tropes, stories, kinks that people like and enjoy, but as I’m sat there staring at it I’m questioning everything because I’m just not feeling it. That seems pretty natural, I think, that we are the worst critics of our own works because we’ve read them so many times or thought far too hard about every word and line… But I tend to solve this with an external view. Beta Readers have saved works from near extinction by checking it over, telling me what does need fixing, and reminding me that actually the rest of it is just fine I’m simply overthinking it all because my mind is struggling with something else like fatigue or pain or just a low kind of day.

So… Overall, writing has been a new life for me. Particularly in this last year, trying something new – expanding into NSFW fanfic has found me countless new connections, friends, experiences I wouldn’t have had otherwise and a real feeling of accomplishment and validation that just wasn’t happening in WIPs that were taking too long and getting no feedback at all.

Writing isn’t just something I do, it’s inextricably a part of who I am, and in its own way it continues to shape exactly what “who I am” can mean.

And I am grateful to every single one of you who has shared this journey with me so far. I cannot wait to see how far we can go together~

#Fanfiction #about the author #writer interview #tag game #chronic pain #chronic illness

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