#— ELIJAH’S REFLECTION;

[that-one-raccoon]

more of Them TM

(click for better quality, tumblr ate it ;-;)

Elijah & Katya

[kinglyisms]

[divinesorciere]

what's davina's ranking of the mikaelsons (in order of who she likes to not likes)? also do you write with hope writers since you only really have one legacies verse and it sends her back in time

First, I do write with Hope writers. I'm sure we can figure something out! I have not seen all of, or a lot of Legacies, but I do not follow that characterization (i.e the living Mikaelsons abandoning Hope), nor do I usually follow the deaths of Josh, Hayley, Klaus and Elijah.

Second, phew. Let's see. Assuming you aren't including Marcel or Hayley and you just mean the canonical children & grandchildren of Esther & Mikael?

Kol is her favorite, whether they're platonic or romantic in general.

Hope is near and dear to her.

Nik. We know nothing about him, and I don't believe in this being his name, but like... he's a kid. So obviously. I don't see them being close at all but she loves kids.

Rebekah by virtue of elimination. She does like her but that's kind of a low bar after the top three, anyway. She wants her safe most of the time, which is more than she can say for the rest.

Uh, honestly, I think Freya's next? Not to say Davina likes her, but she hates her slightly less than Klaus and Elijah. And to be clear, that's mostly because Klaus and Elijah have a history of screwing her, and her loved ones, over more than Freya has. Freya was barely even a person to Davina by the time of her death. She felt more betrayed by...

Klaus & Elijah. Whichever way you want to put it. I think she holds them in equal regard after she finds out Elijah killed Marcel. She can bicker with Klaus but she does Not do that with Elijah.

If you include Marcel & Hayley, Marcel is second, Hope is third and Hayley is fourth.

[voicesunify]

tags

△ — ⟨ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐄𝐎 ⟩ ↬  Elijah Kamski. △ — ⟨ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐄𝐎 ⟩ ↬  Elijah Headcanon. △ — ⟨ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐄𝐎 ⟩ ↬  Elijah Reflections. △ — ⟨ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐄𝐎 ⟩ ↬  Elijah Musings. △ — ⟨ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐄𝐎 ⟩ ↬  Elijah Likes. △ — ⟨ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐄𝐎 ⟩ ↬  Elijah Aesthetics. △ — ⟨ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐂𝟐𝟎𝟎 ⟩ ↬  Officer Allen. △ — ⟨ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐂𝟐𝟎𝟎 ⟩ ↬  Allen Headcanon. △ — ⟨ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐂𝟐𝟎𝟎 ⟩ ↬  Allen Reflections. △ — ⟨ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐂𝟐𝟎𝟎 ⟩ ↬  Allen Musings. △ — ⟨ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐂𝟐𝟎𝟎 ⟩ ↬  Allen Likes. △ — ⟨ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐂𝟐𝟎𝟎 ⟩ ↬  Allen Aesthetics.

[wholoveseggs]

Small Victories

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Daemon Targaryen X Reader} After a tourney in which Daemon places second, he seeks solace from his loss and finds it in his little northern maid.

♡♡ Hello darlings! I'm branching out slightly and writing about a new character {Don't worry, I'm still writing Elijah} xoxo ♡♡

5.3k words - Warnings: smutt, size!kink, rough sex, dom!daemon, slight choking, virgin!reader, northern!reader, servant!reader, pre-dance Daemon, huge power imbalance...

♡♡ Hey! I didn't tag anyone because I'm unsure if you want to read Daemon content. If you wish to be tagged in future Daemon let me know ♡♡

You didn't like the Red Keep, it was too grand for your liking. Even with all of the people in it you still felt alone. At night, you could hear voices echoing throughout the halls, sometimes they were singing or laughing and other times they were screaming or moaning.

You could never tell where the sounds were coming from, it gave the place an odd feeling of being haunted. Ghosts weren't something you put your faith in, but that didn't stop the hair from standing up on the back of your neck whenever you heard a strange sound.

If it was up to you, you wouldn't live here. You would be back in the little cottage you grew up in, far into the north and as far away from King's landing as you could possibly be. It was a funny contradiction, that such a grand place in a warm environment could feel so cold, while a small house in the cold north could feel so full of warmth.

The last thing your mother said to you, was that you should be grateful. That your place in the Red Keep was the highest honor your family could ever hope to receive, and that you should do anything to stay here. To be a lady's maid to the queen, was the highest achievement a low born could achieve.

You tried to be, even though your heart yearned for the snowy landscape of your childhood. You wanted to be happy, you were thankful, but you couldn't help the way you missed the north.

So to try and capture just a bit of personal freedom, you would walk the halls at night. It was the only time you could pretend to be somewhere else, even if it was only for a moment. You would close your eyes and imagine yourself somewhere new and exciting, and when you opened them you would be reminded of where you really were.

Tonight you were in a particularly adventurous mood, there was a tourney the next day for Prince Viserys and his wife Aemma to celebrate their wedding. The Red Keep would be full of guests and it would be loud and full of life, you were sure to be very busy, and so you decided to stay up late and postpone sleep for a few more hours.

There was a room in the library that had a view of the city, one you liked to frequent often. It had a large window and a balcony that was rarely used. It was a nice place to go to clear your mind and think about home.

When you entered, nobody was around except for a cat that was perched on the windowsill. She was a lovely thing with black fur and bright green eyes, the perfect color of a dark forest at night.

"Hello, beautiful." You greeted her with a smile and a light stroke along her back. You looked out the window with her at your side, watching the moon reflect off the ocean and the waves crashing against the shore.

The sound of footsteps behind you made you look over your shoulder, your eyes landing on a man with a face that made you stand up straight and bow your head.

"Prince Daemon." You greeted him, not looking up from the floor.

"Young maidens like yourself shouldn't be out so late." He said, stepping closer to you. You didn't dare move or even breathe, his presence made you feel like you were caught doing something wrong.

"I couldn't sleep, my lord," You answered, not meeting his eyes. This was your first real meeting with the prince, but you knew the rumors that surrounded him.

He didn't respond to your answer, instead, he turned his attention towards the view. Leaning against the window, his posture was dismissive, as though you weren't there. He gave you a side glance that read, 'leave,' and so you did, not wanting to get in his way.

"I apologize, I didn't mean to intrude." You said, walking past him, heading towards the doorway.

"You are from the north," he spoke, still looking out into the water.

"Yes, my lord," You answered, stopping when he started speaking.

"How did you find yourself as a maid in the south?" He asked, looking at you, his eyes piercing through you.

The truth of the matter made you feel shameful, even though it was beyond your control. So you decided to tell him what you've been telling everyone.

"I was given as a gift for our new queen," You said, looking down at the floor.

"Is that what they call it?" Daemon laughed, his laugh was as harsh as his voice, the kind of laugh that could cut you open if you let it. "I heard you were given away as payment for a debt."

Your cheeks reddened and you looked at the ground, your throat closing up at the mention of your family's failure. Pride wasn't something you could afford anymore, but you couldn't stop the words that came out of your mouth.

"I didn't realize that princes were so fond of gossip." You said, meeting his eyes, your words were meant to cut, and they did.

He stood up straight, his expression unreadable as he closed the distance between the two of you, towering over you.

"Ahh, so they did sell you." He smirked, looking down at you. "Whoring can make you better coin… recover a debt quicker."

Your hands balled up into fists and you took a step closer, a defiant glare on your face.

He chuckled and tilted his head, he reached out and touched your chin, his hand was soft but firm as he turned your face to look at him.

"With a pretty face like yours, I'm sure you would make quite a bit of coin," His voice was a purr, a seductive growl that made your insides feel tight. "I could show you a better use for those lips."

His words were shockingly vulgar, his voice was rough and commanding and his eyes were hungry, but you didn't move away, you stayed still. You knew the dragon prince was a scandalous man, but you didn't think he would ever be so bold.

"There is no honor in a whore's coin." You answered, pushing his hand away from your face.

"Is there honor in emptying the queen's chamber pot?" He retorted, grinning slightly at how red your cheeks had become.

"Not all of us have the opportunity to choose what sort of honor we can acquire,” You said, standing your ground as best as you could.

He towered over you, his tall frame casting a shadow that almost completely covered you. He wasn't like the king or queen, who were kind and generous. There was something dark and malicious about him, as though the great beasts of his house lurked just below his skin, waiting to come out.

"You have a smart mouth, little northerner." He mused, his eyes drifting down to your lips. "It's a wonder that the queen has not put a gag in it."

"It's a poor quality I have yet to overcome." You responded, pulling away from him and putting some distance between the two of you.

He watched you move away, his eyes following your movements and the shape of your body, making you feel hot.

"I will think of you when I win the tourney tomorrow." He said, his tone smug and confident. "A sweet northern flower to bring back with me."

"You will be bringing back nothing, prince Daemon." You said, your voice a warning.

He laughed and looked at you, his eyes dancing with mischief.

"We'll see about that."

And with those final words, he left the room. You felt flustered and annoyed, a strange mixture of feelings that confused and angered you. You didn't like the prince, but he made your heart race, his voice and his eyes made you feel a strange sense of heat.

You wanted to be disgusted, and yet all you could think about was seeing him again.

It was a hectic morning, with all the knights and guests arriving, and you were late. Your tardiness had earned you a sharp reprimand from your head maid, but you were too distracted by the upcoming event to care.

The prospect of seeing the prince again was something you weren't sure you wanted, but couldn't stop thinking about.

You didn't like the way his eyes lingered on you, or how he made you feel things that shouldn't be felt. The rogue prince was indeed a fitting title, he was a scoundrel and a liar, a man of dishonor.

You thought that maybe he was the sort of person that the south created, perhaps they took people like you and turned them into someone like him. But then again, he wasn't really a southerner, no, he was a dragon.

The sound of cheers and laughter outside made your ears perk up. The queen was already seated with the other royals in their viewing box, and you were in a nearby tent, preparing more wine and food.

The tourney had just begun, and so far the knights had all performed well. You had only been paying a bit of attention, trying to do your job and keep out of the way.

The head maid was a cruel, vindictive woman, and she had been taking out her frustration on you all day. Her temper was short and her hands were rough, she was the kind of woman that would slap your hands or pull your hair if she was upset. But today she decided to simply make your life miserable with her words.

She gave you the worst jobs and the heaviest items to carry, and when she did allow you to stand and rest, she would hit your feet with her broom and tell you to get back to work.

"Once you are finished pouring wine, I want you to go to the prince's tent and serve him." She ordered, her eyes were sharp and her words were harsh.

"The prince has a squire to serve him." You protested, the idea of facing Daemon again made your cheeks turn red.

"The prince requested a woman's company,” She smiled, her eyes looking at you with an almost wicked satisfaction.

"I believe what the prince is looking for can be found on the street of silk, not among the ladies maids." You countered, hoping to change her mind.

"It's an honor to serve the prince, and he has specifically asked for a northern girl." The head maid was adamant, not willing to let this go.

You clenched your jaw and took a deep breath, biting your tongue as you looked at the floor.

"Very well, madam."

You held back tears as you climbed the stairs to the viewing box, pouring wine into the cups. Keeping your eyes low and only lifting them when absolutely necessary as you made your way down the line of royals.

Everyone began to stir and chat as the final round was announced. You turned to face the arena, watching as the prince mounted his horse, the sight of him made your heart flutter.

He was a handsome man, there was no denying that, his long blonde hair was braided and tied back, and his purple eyes were focused and determined.

His horse was a massive stallion, black as night, and he rode him as though they were one. He moved with a grace and confidence that was captivating.

The final round began, the two men charging at each other. You were nervous and excited, not knowing what to expect.

The clash of steel was the only sound in the air, it echoed throughout the entire arena. The crowd was silent, their eyes locked on the scene before them.

The two men passed each other, once, twice, three times. The tension building with each near miss, until finally the two knights clashed again.

Daemon's opponent had a slight edge over him, being bigger and stronger, but Daemon was quicker. But on the fourth pass, his opponent managed to catch him off guard, sending him flying into the dirt.

The crowd gasped, their hands covering their mouths as the prince's horse bucked and ran, leaving him in the dust.

You winced at the sight, it wasn't a good fall. He landed on his back, hard, and he lay still for a moment, his eyes squeezed shut as he caught his breath.

Only when the head maid cleared her throat did you realize you had been holding your breath.

"You are needed in the prince's tent, girl." she commanded, grabbing the jug from your hands and giving you a stern look.

You nodded, taking the tray of food and wine from the table and heading out of the box. Your heart was racing and your palms were sweaty, the thought of seeing Daemon after such a public humiliation was not something you were looking forward to.

The air was alive with the roar of the people, and the thumping of their feet sounded like thunder. They were chanting for the champion, something that would surely upset Daemon even more.

When you got to his tent, you hesitated, taking a moment to calm your nerves. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, letting the noise of the crowd fade away.

You stepped inside, finding him sitting in a chair, his shirt was off and his squire was cleaning a nasty gash on his arm.

"I'm sorry for intruding, Prince Daemon." You said, placing the tray of food on the table and pouring a cup of wine.

"Leave," he barked at his squire, his voice was gruff and his jaw was clenched.

"But my prince-" his squire protested, looking up from the wound he was treating.

"Now."

The boy left quickly, leaving you alone with the brooding prince.

"Would you like some wine, my lord?" You asked, your voice soft and timid, the last thing you wanted was to make him even more upset.

"No," he hissed, his voice sharp as a knife. "Bring me a new shirt."

You did as he asked, walking over to the large chest in the corner. It was full of clothes, the colors and fabrics were fine and beautiful. You selected a clean white shirt and brought it over to him, your eyes focused on the ground.

"Look at me," he commanded, his voice was quiet, but it was a demand, not a request.

You lifted your eyes, meeting his gaze. His eyes were cold, the same shade of violet that had captivated you was now a glare.

You did very well, my lord," You tried to reassure him, your voice soft and comforting.

"Is that meant to be comforting?" He asked, his tone was harsh and his expression was a scowl.

"Fine. I have never seen a worse display than the one you put on today," you said, the words slipping from your mouth before you could stop them.

He smiled, then laughed, his shoulders shaking as his amusement grew. Only his brother the king would ever talk to him this way, and here you were, a young low born northerner, mocking him. He didn't know why he enjoyed it coming from you, perhaps it was because your words meant nothing. You were no one, and he was the prince, and yet he found himself intrigued.

"That was quite a show, wasn't it?" He chuckled, the sound was hollow, not at all humorous.

"It was humiliating," you answered, the words escaping before you could stop them.

"Careful," he warned, his eyes narrowing. "You're lucky I find your insolence amusing."

"I thought it was why you had asked for me," you retorted, setting the shirt on the table and taking a step back.

He stood up from the chair, closing the space between the two of you. The air was thick with tension, his eyes boring into yours, his face was inches from yours.

"I didn't lose the tourney," he stated, his voice a low growl.

"You didn't win either," you countered, your cheeks flushed red, your heart racing in your chest.

He smiled, the gesture was almost predatory, he reached out and grabbed your face, his hands were rough and his grip was tight.

"You are quite the mouthy little wench," his words were a harsh whisper, his breath hot against your skin.

You didn't answer, afraid of what he would do if you spoke. He seemed to be enjoying himself, his eyes dancing with amusement as he stared at you.

"On your knees," he ordered, his tone demanding.

"My lord, I-" you protested, trying to pull away.

"Kneel," his voice was louder this time, and you knew that he was not going to repeat himself.

You hesitated for a moment, but he was the prince, and you couldn't disobey him. So you lowered yourself onto your knees, looking up at him, waiting for him to tell you what to do next.

"Is it true that northern girls can take a cock better than southern ones?" He asked, his hand still holding onto your chin.

You didn't know how to respond, his words making your cheeks burn. You could only stare at him, your mind reeling as you tried to figure out what he wanted.

He smiled, and the look in his eyes made your heart race. "Open your mouth, little northerner."

You did as he commanded, your eyes never leaving his. He pushed his thumb past your lips and slowly pressed down onto your tongue, rubbing it in circles before slowly dragging it out.

Your lips parted and your breathing became heavier as he traced his wet thumb across your bottom lip, his eyes fixated on the movement.

"Beautiful." He whispered before sliding his thumb back into your mouth, pushing it all the way into your throat, causing you to gag.

He pulled his thumb from your mouth and wiped the spit off on your cheek before grabbing you by the arms and lifting you up, turning you around and pushing you face first into the table.

"My lord," you gasped, struggling against his strong grip.

Daemon laughed at the look of shock on your face, his cock growing harder at the sight. "See? I knew you would make a great whore," he smirked, his words bringing a flush to your face.

He pulled your dress up, exposing your ass and legs. His hands were rough as he groped you, squeezing your thighs and your cheeks.

You pushed against him, trying to free yourself, but his grip was too strong. He pushed your thighs apart, his hand trailing up to your cunt, his fingers stroking your entrance, teasing you.

He softened at your defiance, a smirk crossing his lips. "I enjoy you, little northerner. Perhaps I should keep you," he mused.

He slid his finger into your cunt, his touch gentle and slow. You whimpered, pushing against him again.

"You would be my little northern flower," he murmured, his finger moving in and out of your cunt, the pace becoming quicker. "A blue rose in my garden."

You were ashamed of how aroused you were, the prince's touch was intoxicating, and you couldn't stop yourself from grinding your hips against his hand. You had never been with a man before and the pleasure he was giving you was beyond anything you had ever felt.

He slid another finger inside of you, his movements quick and rough. You moaned, biting your lip as you felt yourself getting closer to release.

He suddenly pulled away, the sudden absence of his touch made you whimper. He spun you around, knocking objects off the table and pinning you against it. Your hands went to his chest, pushing him back, but his grip was too strong, his eyes filled with lust.

"You're a feisty one," he whispered, his lips trailing down your neck, his hands gripping your ass, lifting you up and pressing you against his hips. "I guess it's true that the fires always burn hotter in the north,"

You shivered as he sucked and bit at the skin on your neck, his teeth scraping across your sensitive flesh, leaving red marks behind. You couldn't help but moan, the feeling was so intense, and the sounds were so sinful.

"My prince... I..." You stuttered, trying to find the words, but he cut you off with a kiss.

The feel of his hands on your body, his lips on yours, his cock hard against you, was intoxicating. You had never felt this way before, this desire, this want. He made you feel like you were drowning in the fire of his touch. He was a dragon, and he would take what he wanted.

You couldn't resist, you gave in, kissing him back, letting his tongue explore your mouth. He smelled of blood, dirt and sweat, a combination that shouldn't have been appealing, but was.

You could taste his lust on your lips, and it made you hungry for more. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pressing yourself closer to him, and he moaned, the sound rumbling in his chest. He was so much larger than you, so much stronger, and you felt so small in his arms.

His hand trailed down your chest, slowly untying the strings that held up your dress, his fingers tracing over the fabric, teasing you.

"Sweet little northern girl," he teased, his voice a low growl. "Are you going to give yourself to me?"

"Yes," you whispered, your cheeks flushed pink.

He kissed you again, his lips rough and demanding, his hand pushing your dress down, exposing your breasts. "You've never touched yourself before, have you?”

"No, my Prince," you whispered, your little hands curled into his chest, your nails digging into his skin.

"That's alright, I'll show you how it's done."

His hands slid down to your thighs, his fingers trailing up, his touch light and teasing. You let out a gasp as his fingers brushed over your cunt, touching a spot that made your body tremble.

"This little spot right here," he said, rubbing his thumb against it, "is the most sensitive part of your body. The more pressure, the better."

You nodded, gasping and moaning as he pressed his thumb against it, circling it. You could feel the heat rising within you, the pleasure building.

"Feels good doesn't it?" He whispered, his voice husky, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Y-yes," you stuttered, your hips moving, grinding against his hand.

He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine.

"Do you like being my little whore, hmm?" He asked, his lips trailing down your neck, his kisses hot and wet.

"N-no," you moaned, pushing him back, trying to fight against him.

He laughed, his teeth nipping at your collarbone. "Liar," he whispered, his tongue licking over the marks he'd made.

His hands reaching down to his waist, undoing his breeches and pulling them off, his cock springing free. You gasped, your eyes wide as you took in the size of him.

He took your hand and placed it on his cock, his eyes burning into yours. "Go on, feel it," he whispered.

Your fingers curled around his cock, your small hand barely able to fit around him. You moved your hand, sliding it down the length of his shaft, his cock thick and pulsing in your hand. His skin was so warm and smooth, his breathing deepening as you began to move your hand up and down, stroking him slowly.

You could see the scars from battle stretched across his chest and torso. Small claw-like marks around his pectoral and a deep line that stretched down the left side of his rib cage. He was a hardened warrior, and you could tell by his scars, he had been through much to get where he was now.

You squeezed his cock, moving your hand up and down, his breathing deepening and his eyes growing hazy. He watched you, his gaze following every movement you made. You were starting to get more comfortable, taking pleasure in watching him, in making him feel good. You found the nerve to press the pad of your thumb against the tip, feeling the moisture leaking from him.

"Good girl," he praised, his voice low and husky.

You felt a wave of pride, knowing that you were pleasing him, that he liked the way you were touching him. You continued to stroke him, squeezing and pulling at his cock, watching his face, seeing the pleasure on his features.

He groaned, his eyes closing and his head tilting back, his breath catching. You could feel his cock throbbing in your hand, and you knew that he was getting close.

He let out a low growl and grabbed your wrist, halting your movements. "If you keep that up, I'm going to spill my seed all over this pretty little dress of yours," he said, his eyes full of heat.

"Is that so, my lord?" You asked, unable to hide the hint of amusement in your voice.

He grabbed your hips and pulled you under him, his body caging you, trapping you beneath him. He was breathing hard, his face flushed, his cock hard and resting on your stomach. His eyes burned into yours, his gaze intense, his hands gripping your hips, holding you steady.

You weren't talking back anymore, he could see the fear in your eyes, the hesitance, and that only made him want you more. His hand went to your throat, applying gentle pressure, a silent warning.

He could feel you trembling beneath him, and he tightened his grip, a primal, possessive urge rising within him. Your small hands pushing into his chest, clutching at his heated flesh.

"Open for me," he growled, his eyes fixed on yours.

You parted your thighs, allowing him to press closer to you. He growled, lifting your legs and wrapping them around his waist, his cock brushing against your cunt. He felt you tighten, your eyes widening with trepidation.

He chuckled, loving how terrified and eager you were at the same time. He gave you a moment, and then he slowly pushed into you. You whimpered, your nails digging into his back, your eyes closed, your face twisted in pain.

"Breathe," he said, rubbing his thumb against your cheek, "it will hurt for a just moment and then I will make you feel good,"

You nodded, taking a deep breath as you felt his cock hit your maidenhead.

"Are you ready, little northerner?" He whispered.

You gripped his forearms and nodded.

He pushed in slowly, breaking through your barrier. You cried out, the pain was intense and immediate. He groaned, the feel of your tight cunt was intoxicating.

He stayed still, giving you time to adjust. Your nails dug into his arms, leaving deep scratches in his flesh.

"Such a pretty, tight little cunt," he growled, nipping at your neck.

You kept your eyes closed, trying to focus on his words and not the pain. He began to move with slow, deep strokes, his cock stretching you, filling you. He was bigger than he felt in your hands, and you swore you could feel him everywhere.

He moaned, his hips rocking into you, his hand still on your throat, making you feel lightheaded. You looked up at him with wide eyes, your lips parted, your cheeks flushed. You felt so full of him, stretched open, the pain and pleasure mixing into one.

He watched your reaction with a smirk, amused by your shocked, satisfied expression. He was moving slowly, enjoying your warmth and the feel of your cunt clenching around him. He knew you were enjoying it, too, your eyes half-closed, a soft moan escaping your lip. Your small frame was arched to his body, your hands holding on to his neck.

You were surprised at his gentleness. You'd heard that the dragon prince liked to rough up women, but he was being as careful as if you were made of spun sugar. You felt so small and helpless underneath him, his large body nearly engulfing yours, and yet he wasn't hurting you. His touch was delicate, reverent. The way he spoke to you, calling you pet names, made your heart skip a beat.

You arched against him, a soft cry leaving your lips as his strokes got faster, deeper, hitting a place inside you that sent a sharp, hot pleasure through you.

"Does my little northerner like her prince's cock?" He said, a laugh in his voice, he began to pick up the pace, pounding into you.

You squeaked and pushed on his chest, the sensations becoming too much. He grabbed your hips and held you still, fucking you hard and fast, his eyes full of fire.

You felt your release rising up inside you, the tension in your body winding tighter and tighter. You could feel yourself clamping down on his cock, the pleasure almost too much, the sweet pain sending you over the edge.

He groaned at the sight of you coming undone, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as you shattered around him. He could feel the tension in your muscles as your climax tore through you. He slowed his movements, easing out the last waves of pleasure, drawing it out until you were a shuddering, moaning mess.

He was close behind, his thrusts erratic, his breathing harsh. He pulled out and spilled his seed across your stomach, his hips bucking. He pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, a contented sigh leaving his lips. At least he had one victory today.

Your face was hot with shame, your mind unable to comprehend what just happened. The prince's seed was cooling on your stomach and chest, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. Your hands went to your face, covering it as tears came to your eyes, you had never felt so good and so embarrassed at once.

He moved off of you, his eyes locked on yours, a smirk crossing his lips. He looked satisfied, his gaze wandering over your body, lingering on the wetness between your legs, the mess he'd made of you. He tossed you a cloth to clean yourself with. You wiped his seed off your skin, watching him dress, his blonde hair still braided back, his purple eyes full of lust and desire. He was a warrior, a dragon, he was beauty and strength, power and masculinity. He was everything you wanted and feared, a beast who could destroy you.

He gave you a side glance, his eyes full of amusement. "You may go," he said, shooing you away with a hand.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, as you took a shaky breath. You stood up, gathering the pieces of your dress and your underclothes. Your legs were wobbly, and you felt weak, sore, and full of shame.

"Yes, my prince," you said quietly, looking at the floor, unable to meet his eyes.

He chuckled, the sound of his voice making you shiver. "Don't be so timid, little northerner. This is the beginning, not the end," he said, his words sending a jolt of fear and excitement through you.

He was right, this was only the beginning. You were his servant, and he could do with you as he pleased. He would have you come to him whenever he chose, on the warmest summer nights and the coldest winter days. He would take what he wanted, when he wanted.

He was a dragon, and his will was as strong as his blood.

And deep down, you knew you would enjoy it. He was the perfect thing to distract you from the mundanity of your life, the endless monotony of serving others.

Perhaps the Red Keep wouldn't be so terrible, not if it meant serving him.

[girlkisser13]

going on your first date with the tvdu men would include

damon salvatore

• damon would likely choose a secluded and romantic location, perhaps the mystic grill for a drink, followed by a surprise trip to a hidden spot in the woods or a beautiful clearing with a view of the stars.

• he would pick you up in his blue convertible, making the journey to your date part of the experience, complete with playful banter and a perfectly curated playlist.

• expect witty and flirty conversation. we all know damon LOVES to tease, but he’d also be surprisingly attentive, showing genuine interest in getting to know you better.

• he’d most likely choose your drink for you, something you’d end up loving, showcasing his impeccable taste. if the date involves food, he’d make sure it’s something special, perhaps even cooking for you at his house.

• if the moment felt right, damon will suggest dancing. whether it’s a slow dance in the woods under the stars or a playful dance at the grill, he’d make it unforgettable.

• at the end of the date, damon would walk you to your door. his goodbye would be lingering, leaving you eager for the next time you see him. he’d probably leave you with a teasing comment or a promise of more to come.

elijah mikaelson

• elijah would choose an elegant and sophisticated location, a high-end restaurant with a stunning view or a private, luxurious setting that exudes old school harm.

• he’d OBVIOUSLY show up dressed impeccably in a tailored suit, reflecting his refined and timeless style. every detail of his appearance would be perfect, from his cufflinks to his neatly styled hair.

• elijah would send a classic car to pick you up, or he would arrive himself, ready to escort you to your date with utmost courtesy.

• elijah would be genuinely interested in your thoughts, opinions, and experiences. he’d share fascinating stories from his centuries-long life, offering glimpses into his past while keeping an air of mystery.

• elijah is the epitome of a gentleman. he’d hold doors open for you, help you with your coat, and ensure you feel cherished and respected throughout the evening.

• he would bring you a thoughtful gift, such as a bouquet of rare flowers or a book that he thinks you’d love, showing his attention to detail and consideration.

• elijah would choose the finest cuisine and wine, making sure everything is of the highest quality. he’d ensure the meal is a culinary experience, with each course carefully selected to delight your palate.

• he would engage you in conversations about art, history, literature, and culture, revealing his vast knowledge and passion for these subjects.

• while elijah is a perfect gentleman, there’s always an underlying sense of his power and ability to protect you. you’d feel safe and secure in his presence, knowing he’d go to great lengths to ensure your well-being.

• at the end of the date, elijah would walk you to your door, ensuring you’re safely home. his goodbye would be tender and sincere, perhaps with a gentle kiss on your hand or a soft brush of his lips against your cheek, leaving you enchanted and eager for the next time you meet.

kol mikaelson

• kol would choose a fun and unpredictable location for your date. this could range from a vibrant bar in the french quarter, to a late-night carnival, or even a spontaneous adventure like breaking into an abandoned mansion for some exploring.

• kol would either show up in a flashy car or decide to take you for a walk through the lively streets of new orleans, there’s no in between.

• kol is all about living in the moment. he might suggest impromptu activities, like dancing in the street to a nearby musician’s tunes or trying some exotic food from a street vendor.

• there’s always a touch of mischief with kol. he might pull a harmless prank or engage in a bit of friendly competition, such as challenging you to a game of pool or darts at a local bar.

• kol wouldn’t hide his vampire nature; instead, he’d use it to impress you. he’d show off his speed, strength, and compel the bartender to give you both free drinks.

• the date would be filled with energy and excitement. kol’s enthusiasm is contagious, and he’d ensure you’re constantly entertained and engaged, never a dull moment.

• at the end of the date, kol would walk you home, making sure you’re safely inside. his goodbye would be flirty and full of promise, perhaps with a lingering kiss or a playful comment about your next adventure together.

jeremy gilbert

• jeremy would choose a casual and comfortable location, like a cozy café, a local diner, or a peaceful spot by the lake for a picnic.

• jeremy is a good listener and would be interested in learning about your passions, dreams, and experiences.

• jeremy would suggest doing something fun and interactive, like visiting an arcade, going for a hike, or even attending a local concert. he’d want to create a memorable experience that’s enjoyable for both of you.

• jeremy’s an artist so he might even take you to a local art gallery, or he could even bring his sketchbook and show you some of his sketches (they’re honestly probably all sketches of you).

• jeremy would choose a place with good, hearty food— nothing too fancy, but something that feels comforting and satisfying. if you’re having a picnic, he’d pack a basket with some of his favorite snacks and drinks.

• he also loves being outdoors, so he might take you to a beautiful, secluded spot in nature.

• at the end of the date, jeremy would walk you to your door and make sure you’re safely inside. his goodbye would be sweet and sincere, leaving you feeling cared for and excited for the next time you see him.

malachai "kai" parker

• kai would choose an unconventional and adventurous location. this could range from exploring an old, abandoned building to a spontaneous road trip to a nearby town. he loves to keep things exciting and unpredictable.

• there’s always a sense of mischief with kai. he would definitely suggest something dangerous or illegal, like sneaking into a restricted area or trying out a thrilling activity. he enjoys pushing boundaries and seeing how far you’re willing to go.

• kai wouldn’t shy away from using his magic. he might perform small, impressive spells to amuse you or use his powers to enhance the date, like creating a magical light show or conjuring up something special.

• kai would take you to a unique, offbeat restaurant or café, somewhere with a cool vibe and interesting menu. he’d make sure the experience is memorable and out of the ordinary.

• at the end of the date, kai would walk you to your door with a mix of playful charm and genuine interest. his goodbye would be intriguing and magnetic, perhaps with a lingering touch or a cryptic comment that leaves you wanting more.

niklaus "klaus" mikaelson

• klaus would choose a sophisticated and exclusive location, like a private rooftop dinner with a stunning view of the city, a hidden garden, or a historic site. he loves grandeur and would want to impress you with a memorable setting.

• klaus would pick you up in a luxurious car, ensuring you travel in comfort and style. the journey would be smooth and filled with engaging conversation, making you feel at ease and intrigued.

• klaus is well-read and knowledgeable, and he’d be genuinely interested in your thoughts and experiences. he’d share fascinating stories from his long life, providing glimpses into his complex personality.

• klaus is a master of romantic gestures. he’d bring you a bouquet of rare flowers, arrange for a talented musician to play a private concert, or surprise you with a beautifully handwritten note expressing his admiration.

• klaus has a deep appreciation for art and culture. he might take you to an art gallery, a classical music concert, or even show you some of his own artwork. he’d love to share his passions with you and see your reactions.

• klaus has a penetrating gaze that can make you feel like the only person in the world. throughout the date, he’d often lock eyes with you, never looking away until you do.

• his protective nature would be evident. he’d ensure you feel safe and cared for at all times, subtly asserting his strength and willingness to defend you if needed.

• klaus is a gentleman at heart. he’d open doors for you, pull out your chair, and be attentive to your needs, ensuring you feel respected and cherished.

• at the end of the date, klaus would walk you to your door. his goodbye would be lingering and filled with promise, perhaps with a gentle kiss on your hand or a soft brush of his lips against yours, leaving you yearning for more.

stefan salvatore

• stefan would choose a charming, low-key location for your first date. this might be a quaint café, a scenic park, or a cozy restaurant with a relaxed atmosphere where you can talk and connect.

• he’d pick you up in his car, making sure the ride is pleasant and comfortable. he might even play a soft playlist to set a relaxed mood.

• stefan is thoughtful and would likely bring a small, meaningful gift, like a single flower or a favorite book he thinks you’d enjoy. he values the little things that show he’s paying attention.

• stefan would plan a thoughtful activity, such as a stroll through a picturesque park, a visit to a local art exhibit, or a casual outing to a farmers' market, where you can explore and talk.

• he’d pay close attention to your preferences and needs, ensuring you’re comfortable and having a good time. if you mention a favorite food or drink, he’d remember and include it in the date.

• stefan’s demeanor is kind and respectful. he’d open doors for you, offer his arm while walking, and be attentive without being overwhelming, showing his genuine respect and care.

• rather than grand gestures, stefan plan a quiet moment to watch the sunset together or find a peaceful spot where you can talk privately.

• at the end of the date, stefan would walk you to your doorstep. his goodbye would be heartfelt, leaving you with a feeling of warmth and anticipation for the next time you see him.

[love-takes-work]

Streamily.com Presents: The Steven Universe Cast Reunion Q&A Part 1

Here's a complete overview of the Q&A that was put on by Streamily, hosted by Elijah ("Not-So-Average Fangirl"), featuring Rebecca Sugar as the showrunner/creator, Deedee Magno Hall as Pearl, Lo (formerly known as Charlyne Yi) as Ruby, Estelle as Garnet, Susan Egan as Rose Quartz/Pink Diamond, Tom Scharpling as Greg Universe, Michaela Dietz as Amethyst/Famesthyst, and Larissa Gallagher as Bluebird Azurite. Read below to find out about a secret scrapped episode, Rebecca's comment on how to look at Rose Quartz, and lots of hilarious commentary from the cast about the experience of voicing characters on Steven Universe.

When the stream opened, everyone did their introductions:

Rebecca said they created the show.

Deedee said she played Pear. LOL, then said Pearl.

Lo said they played Ruby.

Susan said I play Rose . . . (with a cringe) and Pink.

Tom said "I was Greg, and I still am Greg, I guess."

Michaela: "Famethyst for life baby!"

Larissa played Bluebird, and a little bit like the character, she pops up when you don't expect it!

Estelle was not on the call at the very beginning but joined shortly after the questions began.

Here are the questions and the participants' answers!

Q: There were so many messages in SU. Which one do you hope viewers keep with them the most?

A (Rebecca): Rebecca learned to trust themself in being the authority about who they are. They were a bit rocky on this issue when the show began in their twenties, and learned they needed to be true to the art they made. That was reflected in the characters too. They hope people watching will learn to trust in themselves too, in the face of other people trying to tell you who you are.

Q: For Deedee Magno Hall: Pearl grew and changed in the show. How did it feel playing her in the first few episodes vs. the last few?

A (Deedee): There was no way for Deedee to know Pearl's journey when she started voicing her. She relied on Rebecca and the Crew to learn how to voice Pearl. The group had been talking about the pilot before they jumped onto the call, and Deedee says if she had listened side by side to what Pearl sounded like in the Pilot and what she ended up sounding like at the end, Pearl (along with character growth), vocally got exaggerated--it was Deedee's voice but really "went there"! Pearl felt so many feels. Deedee hopes she executed it well direction-wise. What a blast to play Pearl! And to see the growth in her character! It was fun and a challenge, and Deedee was grateful!

Q: For Michaela Dietz: Amethyst is silly and chaotic usually--what did Michaela pull from for the more emotional and serious moments?

A (Michaela): Many of the more emotional moments are about figuring out origins (the Kindergarten, etc.). Michaela is a transracial / transnational adoptee, so she pulled from that and was looking for her birth family while they were recording the Kindergarten episode. That was an easy well to tap. The growth that Amethyst had over the course of the series and movie and Future, Michaela feels like it parallels her relationship with the other actors and their characters. She's grateful to have made so many friends and is so happy to have learned so much from Rebecca (she joked about calling Rebecca "Reba").

Q: Question for all: If you could hang out with your character for one day, what would you do?

A (Rebecca): Steven is based on their brother, so they would love to spend time with Steven. It was challenging through Covid to not spend time with Steven. They always make time for Steven. They love spending time with people who played the characters! They never got to have a wrap party because of Covid! They were together for 8 years and they still want to have a belated wrap party. They would also love to spend time with Ruby (the self-insert character) and they love spending time with Lo too. Then they said "I need to be stopped because I'll go through every person."

Announcement: Estelle just joined!

Belatedly, the mod asks Estelle's question: Garnet is such an iconic character. Did Estelle know she was a Fusion from the beginning?

A (Estelle): No. She was the big grown Gem who took care of the others. She found out in real time with the cast when she did the recording. She was surprised by the lines in real time and had to calm herself down to record each line. She felt it was an honor.

Back to the "all: question of what each would do if they could hang out with their character.

A (Deedee), misunderstanding the question: If she could hang out with characters, would do tae bo with Garnet, get french fries with Steven, and have a karaoke and dance party with Amethyst.

A (Lo): When they were in kindergarten they would spit all over a tree and try to cover it with their spit. If they hung out with Ruby, they would ask for Ruby's help spitting on trees. There would be lots of hugging, punching pillows, etc. The moderator Elijah thinks fan artists will have fun with that.

A (Estelle): If she hung out with Garnet, she would ask Garnet to give her all the future information. She would want to borrow her "future vision goggles" too and want to know the future.

A (Tom): He would just drive around with Greg and listen to records. Go eat more. And end up going bowling.

A (Michaela): She would eat trash with Amethyst (and also some quality food?). They would mess around the San Gabriel Valley, get meal after meal, maybe buy an illegal turtle? No, that's not funny. They might hit up Ruby and spit on trees. Take in some underground wrestling. Amethyst is very intensely chill, and Michaela thinks they could do a great many things together.

A (Larissa): Going from intensely chill to intensely chaotic. She wants to bring it down from chaos and go ride Lion on the beach, with Bluebird carrying swords.

A (Susan): She wants to go into Rose's room to unpack. Pearl would need to be with her to Marie Kondo the situation. Then she would throw on a Universe shirt and hit music festivals.

Deedee realizes she misunderstood the question and wants to add: if she hung out with Pearl they would do laundry and some spring, summer, winter, and fall cleaning. Definitely Marie Kondo-ing the whole universe together.

Q for Susan Egan: Rose turned out to be a very complex character. As the story progressed and more about her was revealed, did Susan's approach to voicing her change?

A (Susan): She can't sing the praises of Rebecca enough: Susan didn't know at all what Rose's deal was. She got some hate comments when it was revealed that she was Pink, and she LOVED that because it meant the fans were invested. She was as shocked as everyone else. Pink was aging in reverse; Rose was wise and flawed, and then Susan would be voicing Pink and had to be petulant and immature, and she's thankful for Rebecca's direction in getting that right.

Q for Lo: Ruby is adorable. We got to meet so many versions of her. Other than Garnet's Ruby, which Ruby was Lo's favorite to play, and why?

A (Lo): They loved playing Navy. They got to be hammy. They ask if you know how when you order stuff at the drive-thru and you become that? They don't know why. It felt good. While voicing Ruby, they got to get in touch with how angry they were. Being seen as an Asian woman, it was nice to have a spot to channel that anger, and being Navy is like making fun of who you have to become when you're a people-pleaser. "I LOVE DIRT!"

Q for Tom Scharpling: Greg is an eccentric but loving father. What was Tom's favorite part of playing him and does he have a favorite scene?

A (Tom): Doing Greg was so fun. It's not Tom but it's more him than he thought all along. He had never done voice stuff before this, so he went in completely new. A script would say "walla walla" but he thought he was supposed to say "walla walla." Everybody laughed at him. He knew literally nothing about proper voice acting. So he got to really try and work at it. It was so satisfying to get to better at it. Anything from "Mr. Greg" was the big one in terms of a memorable episode. It was the best time.

Q for Larissa Gallagher: Bluebird Azurite is quite a menace. Did she listen to the individual Ruby and Aquamarine voice acting for inspiration?

A (Larissa): Yes. The script said Bluebird was Cockney, so she already knew what to aim for, but it turned out that taking those inspirations from the two characters she's made of would have led to this kind of voice naturally.

Q for All: Where do you each of the participants think their character is now and what are they doing?

A (Rebecca): To the cast, they know what the characters are up to post-show, but they can't say, it's too canonical.

A (Deedee): Says she doesn't know what canonical means. Pearl is probably doing more laundry and working on an album.

A (Lo): They guess they're just . . . fused. (Perhaps separating for scouting?) They might play Ruby Rider but not alone anymore. Interdependence, learning how to ground; Lo is not really sure how to answer since they feel like Ruby would spend most of her time as Garnet.

A (Estelle): She doesn't know. She figures Garnet sees what was gonna happen and just said "mmm." Just chilling. Even when she's fighting she has to be chill with the fighting-related grunting. She got direction to "flatline" her acting. She found it pretty natural though.

A (Tom): Greg is probably right where everything started again. Maybe working at a GameStop. Maybe he owns a bowling alley now. When asked what Greg would name it, he replies "Strikes and Spares."

A (Michaela): Amethyst would randomly get rich with Bitcoin and is retired. Maybe she would play Taiwanese Mahjong. Living a great retired life.

A (Larissa): Bluebird would be plotting and scheming and planning. Probably on a big planning board.

A (Susan): If Rose and/or Pink exists on any level, the only appropriate thing for her to be up to is community service. Like cleaning up trash at the bowling alley? Susan thinks it's time to start having a positive impact.

Q for Rebecca Sugar: Were there any scenes that ended up on the cutting room floor that you wish you could have included?

A (Rebecca): There was a bunker episode that they spent weeks on trying to crack; they wish they'd finished it. Ronaldo had a doomsday bunker. Sadie and Lars were trapped in it (with Steven). There's no way to leave. They were working on it so long and just couldn't make it work but they were determined to (maybe a little bit of the sunk cost fallacy!).

But usually the things that got left on the floor ended up evolving and changing into something different, even if they were really attached to the original idea. The idea for "Barn Mates" was originally that Sadie and Lapis would be the roommates with Sadie going to college. They feel that the Sadie story they ended up actually using was great. They love what they ended up doing with Lapis too.

In the very earliest version of "Giant Woman," Steven was going to unfuse into the two parts of him. And his "perfect" form, the big glowing muscular adult-looking Steven, was a Season 1 idea, and they didn't use him until Future. (After all, our roly-poly Steven is perfect!)

Now there are some fan-submitted questions. Their usernames are included.

Q for Deedee Magno Hall, from Makittuu: In what ways is Pearl special to you?

A (Deedee): She feels like a broken record, but she says again she was grateful to be voicing someone with the same natural voice as she had, and she had always wanted to be able to sing in a cartoon. She loves that she got to sing in the show. Pearl was the first major voice acting role that she had ever done and there's no way she would have known what the show was going to become and how successful it would be. She was auditioning for everything and was new to voice acting at the time. But one thing that she loved about voicing Pearl is that she got to share the experience with her kids. She connected the love Pearl had for Steven with the love she had for her sons. When she started voicing Pearl her kids were 2 and 8. For them to be able to watch Steven Universe on TV and hear Mommy's voice was so cool to share with her family. Now her kids are 13 and 19!

Q for Estelle, from Gonosoi: Do you have any fun stories from recording your lines on the show?

A (Estelle): When she was going through things in her life--and she thinks this is true no matter where you are or how you identify--the show somehow could speak to whatever she was going through. The lines would often be relevant. She'd come in with sunglasses on because it was early for her and her voice would be low. She'd be crying behind her glasses in difficult moments. She liked a fresh first take instead of knowing ahead of time what she'd be reading, so she didn't read the script ahead of time. She was surprised by needing to do the "ugh" and "ah" noises in different ways. It'd be difficult vocally. With Michaela, Zach, and Deedee, in between the lines and reading things together, hearing them switch back and forth between talking about life and then doing their recordings, it was so cool to see them do their work.

Q for Michaela Dietz, from Mal: Which one of your other characters would get along well with Amethyst?

A (Michaela): Definitely Vee from The Owl House. Maybe Maj'el from Star Trek Prodigy. She would be so "What is this purple being? Why do you eat? Where does the food go?" She'd be fascinated with Amethyst. And Michaela feels like Amethyst would thrive and try to do weird stuff in response. The shapeshifting she has in common with Vee. They'd get up to some trouble. Fun trouble. Harmless trouble. (Another fanart cue!)

Q for Susan Egan, from Gladde: Does Susan feel that Rose forgot about Spinel? Does she think she wanted to go back?

A (Susan): Susan thinks a lot was forgotten in her mind when she became Rose. Rose was so enamored of what's in front of her in every moment; she lives in the moment and can be a good quality but obviously Susan didn't know all of that when she was recording! Steven Universe is her kids' favorite thing she's done. Rebecca?

A (Rebecca): So much of the show is about how--something that was ultimately captured in the end credits song-- when you don't think of yourself as someone with power, Pink had less power than everyone around her, and she didn't know how much she mattered to others. She did things to them that she didn't think twice about because her importance to others didn't register. Feeling that she didn't matter, it radiated out. To her--her relationship with Spinel, Spinel was a toy to her. When she got a chance to grow up, she thought it made sense to leave Spinel behind. Pink is actually a softened version of what she was originally planned to be like. The sympathetic side of that and her self deprecation grew as they developed Pink over time. In aspiring to be a better person than she thought she was, that became who she was.

A (Susan): Rebecca brought all these characters' complexity to the table. It's easy to make things two-dimensional but people are complicated and we need to look at that in context. Good and bad can exist in the same person. She doesn't want Rose to always want to think about being Pink, but she thinks it helped her want to save more characters as Rose.

A (Rebecca): Rebecca likes to think of the Pink Diamond / Rose character as a cautionary tale.

Q for Lo, from stiffcorpse00: What kind of dates would Ruby and Sapphire go on?

A (Lo): Axe-throwing. They reference walking through doors and accidentally crashing into the frame, and they say "That's me." So they wouldn't do axe-throwing personally. Maybe Ruby and Sapphire would get some boba. Go walking. Teach Ruby how to float in water back because anger makes Ruby sink. Helping Ruby get anger out by screaming into pillows. Swinging one way and the other way.

Michaela suggests they could go to a rage room.

Lo objects that they're so expensive, and that they could just break stuff without needing to pay for it.

Susan suggests it'd be a writeoff because it's for work.

Lo says they'll go there and take a date.

Michaela says the experience is exhausting and therefore you don't need much time there.

Lo says a Ruby and Sapphire date involving paintball would be great, but everyone would run from Sapphire. Ruby's rage would get in the way. Sapphire would coldly get everyone.

There is more discussion of smashing fax machines and glass etc. in a rage room. Deedee asks "What is a fax machine?"

Q for Tom Scharpling, from GalixyYouniverse: What was his reaction to Greg getting his hair cut and was he upset?

A (Tom): He was fine with it. He was always coming from a different place than everyone else. His change would be getting rich or getting a haircut. Everyone else's was huge and cosmic. Anything with Greg, he related to Greg more than he should admit to.

Rebecca points out they have like drawings from 2013 with Greg with short hair. Sacrificing hair in a battle is something they always wanted to do.

Q for Larissa Gallagher from 1F4cnt4ND: How does she think Aquamarine and Ruby met and what was it like when they fused?

A (Larissa): She says it was a little bit mean to put her after Tom answering about the hair cut! But she doesn't know. If she had to say anything, it'd be existential. When you meet someone and you get that ball of energy inside you and you don't know whether it's good or bad--you don't know what's going to happen but something will happen. She likes to think that's the kind of energy that evolved. It didn't go in the most helpful emotional way but it was that moment attraction that no one can explain. Rebecca?

A (Rebecca): They had discussed in the writers room what Steven's influence is on Homeworld, how there'd be all these Gems on the wrong side of history, whether they were high status like Aquamarine or low like Eyeball, they'd pool into an out-group and meet to be frustrated about it. They'd been working on something that made sense before Steven changed the rules. Different types of fusions / collaborations and one born out of frustration and spite was one they wanted on the show.

Q for all participants, from trynottohappen: What was the hardest scene to record?

A (Susan): The first thing she did as Rose was the VHS tape. The monologue was her first time playing a mother, and it spoke to her heart. Like Michaela looking for her biological parents, there's something the character can teach you. Susan had to pull herself together after reading it--she needed to be joyful about her progeny coming. It makes her weep even today. It was one of her favorite things. She loved recorded with Deedee, and loved the love between them, the betrayal of Rose to Pearl, when we finally get to know what was really going on between them.

A (Larissa): The scene where Bluebird revealed her backstory of why they felt the way they felt. The complexity of the characters in the show, the hate isn't just "I hate because someone did this and said that." It's grounded, a real space of hurt that can never be fixed. Having to recreate that and not hate the character but love the character because of how much pain they were in. That was difficult but incredible.

A (Michaela): The hardest scenes were toward the end because she knew the show was ending. They were cherishing every moment together. In 2016, the day after the election, that was a hard day. Everybody was really distraught. There was a group hug at the end. In a time of such uncertainty, it gave her so much solace to know they had each other and they had art, they had ways of expressing themselves, that day sticks out.

A (Tom): For him, the songs were difficult. He would get sent a demo Rebecca recorded the night before, he's driving into NYC from New Jersey and listening to the song for hours all morning so he'd have it in his head, and then would be so nervous doing the songs because he didn't want the whole recording to be just him going word by word, line by line. The songs were the big thing he was hung up on. He'd try to do the songs first, then the spoken lines, and then the things where he yelled--he'd end up screaming sometimes and he'd not have a voice left. He wanted to do right by these very special songs. He jokes that Rebecca said he let them down over and over. (Rebecca denies.)

A (Estelle): She doesn't remember many hard moments. She'd attribute that to Rebecca's direction. She took a laid-back approach. The grunts and noises weren't familiar but also weren't difficult for her. She'd drink tea after. Real life would be happening but they always had each other in their bubble.

A (Lo): The Ruby Rider episode was the most fun and the hardest. They always wanted to play a cowboy! They were also going through a divorce during the recording. It was tough leading up to marrying Sapphire, delivering the lines, and they started crying because the opposite was happening in their life. And then they got direction to be more emotional even though they were crying. They said their voice was dead inside even though they were quite emotional. They're shy in the booth. Lo felt sweaty and weird doing the acting in front of other people, feeling awkward, and this is the first time they had to be a voice actor. This was THE WORST playing multiple characters during the baseball episode.

Michaela was so impressed with Lo having to be "like 800 characters."

Lo comments that doing 5 voices around other people as a neurodivergent person was so difficult.

A (Deedee): She loved receiving the demo recordings before having to sing a song. One of her favorite things was the singing. She wants the album of all Rebecca's demos. She remembers getting a script Monday to prepare and record on Wednesday. She heavily depended on the voice director and Rebecca. The really wordy scripts were difficult for Deedee with "ten-dollar words." The screaming was also really difficult. (She'd also do singing at the beginning, speaking in the middle, screaming at the end.)

A (Rebecca): Instead answering what scene was the hardest to write, they say there are so many. Because it was storyboard-driven, the script was in flux until it was animated, and they'd still be working with dialogue. With the potluck, when Lars doesn't show, Sadie has dialogue as she's walking down the street talking about Lars. They did a thousand drafts of it. With Sadie's story, there's a matryoshka of struggling with self-esteem while commenting on other people's self-esteem. There was a long path to get Steven to step into his mom's shoes. The biggest thing was tracking the ongoing storyline in a storyboard-driven show. Rose's speech was pored over as well. They wanted it to be layered and make more sense as you learn more about her. Does this line encapsulate everything you're going to learn about this character 60 episodes from now?

Q from CaughtMoonlight: If each of them could play any other Gem, who would it be?

A (Susan): Everyone wants to be Garnet, but could never!

A (Larissa): Ditto. 100%. Also, not a Gem, but she wants to be Lion.

A (Michaela): Peridot. All the way.

A (Tom): He says he can't do that and he's just a slob doing the voice of a slob. These things are all out of his reach.

A (Estelle): She'd go with turbocharged Peridot. She says the things that are in Garnet's brain. She'd get spicy with it.

A (Lo): Lo would choose Greg. They say he's not a slob. The world should be more relaxed and accessible.

Tom says he doesn't mean slob in a bad way. But he owns his slobbiness.

A (Deedee): Hard question! She loved voicing Pearl and all the Pearls. Everybody else, it would be so hard to voice. No comment.

A (Rebecca): Early on they decided to take a back seat and not cast themself. They loved being in the director role. They put a lot of themself into SO many characters. That let them have a presence in everyone. One thing they're really grateful for, but their former boarder Adam Muto on Adventure Time, they got to voice Marceline's mother. The composers aivi and surasshu asked them to sing "Love Like You" because it's really a reflection of so many characters that they got to write.

Q for All: They are asked to share their projects and socials.

A (Rebecca): Working on things they can't talk about yet. Last year they released an independent album. Years ago Estelle said Rebecca should tour. Susan said kind things. Lo texts songs back and forth. They would not have been able to make that album without that encouraging. Tom had them on the radio show. So humbling. Spiral Bound is a little EP and they're so grateful. They'd love to do more stuff like that.

A (Deedee): She loves the album. She is doing some recurring voices for Kiff on the Disney channel, and singing praise and worship at church.

A (Lo): They're playing Larry in StuGo who's shirtless and gender fluid on Disney. They want everyone to know sunsets are awesome. Catch them while you can to chase away depression.

A (Estelle): She has a new album coming out early next year, with two singles out now. The music is uplifting. And there's the Estelle Show (on Apple radio!). She's just living her best life.

A (Tom): The Best Show/podcast is still on every week. He started writing a new book--he wrote one a few years ago and thinks the one he's writing now will be done in maybe 11 years, so check it out in 2038. Just working on TV stuff and dealing with whatever happens.

A (Michaela): Exciting stuff we can't talk about. It's tangerine season! Trees going off! Been harvesting.

A (Larissa): Just got back from Japan. Trying to get back there. Video games are coming out but she can't talk about it. She is working on a startup called Ethovox, trying to protect voice actors int he age of AI. Larissa got so much fandom just from doing Bluebird for two minutes! She's so grateful for that.

A (Susan): She produces live concert content for Disney worldwide. She loves being behind the scenes and creating jobs for others and bringing joy. They've been in 18 countries! She wrote shows for the Hollywood Bowl.

Part Two comes out November 18, 2024! You can get signed prints at Streamily!

[cetrouz]

Oh yes yes, that's actually such a good analysis! It was just a few days ago when I watched a documentary on EPCOT, the City of Tomorrow that Walt Disney envisioned before his death, which was one of the inspirations for the game, and oh boy was I able to draw so many lines between Walt and Roy with Elijah and Don.

It is true that nowadays, it is necessary that art creativity must be able to be financially doable to become a success in a capitalist and consumerist world. But the world nowadays has been getting too focused on the part of "financially succeeding" and the "profit" that the industry is starting to ignore all the process before it to try to achieve quicker and more profitable results. This causes a lot of disastrous "cutting corners" decisions that ruins the process of art creation and pressures or lays off artists and creative individuals who once used to be important for the industry they worked for. It is no wonder that some art creatives like Hayao Miyazaki are believing that "humans are losing faith in themselves", specially with the AI rampage we see nowadays, where people are simply forgetting the wonders of imagination and creation and reducing to instant and effortless results that feels non charming and soulless. They just want quick results that can feed the brain entertainment, even if the process can be unethical and unfair to other people.

The game makes it pretty clear of that once you learn how the story progresses after Elijah dies. The Burbank act just shows how fucked up a society can be once it sees potential on profiting over the most absurd of things. And people like Emily (aka Vivian) only furthered these problems to continue. Because sadly even though she was a victim of the harsh and unethical means of Walton Media, she preffered to join sides with them instead of opposing, because in the way how society is progressing, it feels easier to join the enemy and profit alongside it instead of finding a solution for the problem.

I wanna talk about Elijah Walton and what he and his brother represent in the story because I think it's really interesting.

It's really interesting how Elijah and Don are pretty much an exact mirror of Walt and Roy Disney, even down to their roles in the company. Walt and Elijah were the creatives and Roy and Don were the finance and when Walt died, Roy took over. Atleast this is according to a quick google search. (Though I dont really like comparing Elijah to Walt to a tee just because he was a raging Racist, Sexist and overall bigot while also exploiting his workers and Elijah is propped up to very much be a good person by the narrative, so I'd like to think Elijah wasnt those things atleast for the purpose of this analysis)

Elijah represents those who want to tell stories. The artists, writers, creators etc. He represents the wonder and joy of creating things for others to see and the passion behind it. He is what Walt Disney presented himself as, a fatherly and whimsical story teller sharing art with the masses. His demeanor is warm, inviting and friendly.

Meanwhile Don represents the capital. He looks to what will be profitable, what will make the shareholders happy. He doesnt care about the creativity, evident by the fact their films take a bit of a back seat to American Arcadia and they are willing to let Kovacs go when he is no longer helpful to them. Hes cold, stilted and professional.

In equilibrium Creativity and Money can work, atleast in the society we live in now it does. You need money to create, and creativity makes money, so both are incredibly important. You cant focus too heavily on the creativity otherwise things get too ambitious, people get overworked, it will take too long to finish and you cant fund it. You cant focus too heavily on the money otherwise you will cut corners, exploit people and overall create uncreative pandering art in an effort to make as much money as possible. They need to work together.

And we see them working together with the rise of Walton Pictures.

But what we also see in AA and in our real lives too is the money taking over. We see it in the Arcadians, people who's lives are recorded without their consent, who are brainwashed to remain inside the dome to keep on making money for the company and when they are no longer useful they are basically thrown out. People who are used basically as toys to make Walton more money and for our entertainment. We see it in Disney now, in their under payed Writers, Actors and Animators who have to strike to be payed livable wages. You see it in the sweatshop workers making their merchandise, the exploitation of other people's cultures (see, Disney trying to Trademark fucking Dia De Los Muertos or just the movie Pocahontas) and much more.

The fact that Elijah's death was what caused the turning point for the company to go down into this hellish capitalistic spiral is very poignant. It shows that when Creativity dies and Money takes over, all you are left with greed and suffering.

[writememysticfalls]

Red Door | Elijah Mikaelson

Summary: You're sleeping with Elijah, but you're someone else's girl. Tonight, he's done playing nice. He wants you all to himself.

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x reader

Genre: Suggestive, Red Door!Elijah

Word count: <1k

A/N: 🎃 HAPPY HALLOWEEN VAMPS! 🎃

“Elijah.”

A red door. The ache of thirst. The sweet taste of Tatia’s blood.

“Earth to Elijah… you there?”

Elijah realised he had been daydreaming.

He was resting one hand in his pocket, staring at his reflection in the black window. Red veins shrank back from his cheeks.

“Whatcha looking at?” you whispered. You shut the study door behind you.

“Merely enjoying the view,” he lied.

His thirst had been stronger lately. Overpowering. But he could resist those…temptations. He was an Original, wasn’t he?

Elijah sat on a chair and yanked off his tie.

“Sit,” he ordered.

You straddled him, stroking his tense shoulders. “Day three of my wedding saga…” you whispered. “We’re getting matching tattoos. I’m not kidding.”

Elijah didn’t reply. His mouth was already sucking your neck.

You hissed in pain. “Easy there, cowboy,” you said. “Anyway, he’s demanding I get his name tattooed-”

“Too… much… talking,” he murmured, nipping your throat.

You were used to Elijah’s hungry kisses. Your affair happened on cold brick walls and the backseats of cars. Time was always precious.

But tonight, Elijah was moving too fast. He forced your mouth open. He bit your lip, and you tasted blood.

“Easy on the face!” you said. “I am a bride, you know.”

Elijah’s eyes were flat. “Can we not discuss your joyous nuptials for one second?

“Elijah?” you said. “What’s wrong?”

“Just kiss me,” he said, starting to unbutton his shirt.

You put your hand over his. “I said, what’s wrong?”

Elijah seized your hand. His eyes turned blood red. For a second, you saw no trace of tenderness. He looked at you like an insect he wanted to crush.

“Elijah, you’re scaring me,” you said, your voice low.

He squeezed your hand tighter. Pain shot through it.

“Y/n L/n,” he said, pulling out a handkerchief and dabbing his mouth. “I asked you to kiss me. Are you incapable of following one simple instruction?”

You scrambled off him.

Elijah took one step towards you, then another, forcing you to move away. Your back hit the wall.

“You insolent little girl,” he said, giving a chilling laugh. “I humour you too much. You have a total lack of discipline.”

You frowned. “Elijah, you’re the one person in my life who doesn't try to control me. That’s why I love you.”

“Oh, please,” he said. “You don’t love me. You’re using me. Swearing your heart to another man while your limbs tremble under my touch.”

You shoved him off. “Hey. I never forced you to do anything. If you want to take the moral high ground, there’s the door.”

Elijah grabbed your throat, making you gasp out in pain. “I am an Original vampire,” he hissed. “I could snap your throat in a second. Watch your tone.”

“You’re hurting me,” you croaked.

You couldn't believe how quickly Elijah had turned from the lover you knew to this heartless monster. It must have been lurking, just beneath the surface.

You stared into Elijah’s eyes, desperate for a scrap of sympathy. There was none.

Suddenly, he let you go.

He collapsed into a chair, resting his head in his hands.

You hurried to the door. Now you thought about it, you knew Elijah had been acting up the past few weeks. You should have done something, before it got to this.

“Wait,” Elijah begged, frozen in the chair.

You rested your hand on the doorframe. “No,” you said. “You crossed a line tonight, Elijah. I don’t care if you’re jealous of my fiance. You touch me one more time, and I swear-”

Elijah’s voice was quiet. “I have been hiding the truth from you, Y/n,” he said. “I told you that I had overcome my mother’s mental torture. I told you I had… closed the red door.” He looked up at you, and his eyes were red with tears. “I lied. I can no longer control the beast within me.”

You rubbed your eyes. “Sorry isn’t going to cut it, Elijah. I don’t feel safe around you anymore.”

Elijah panted for breath, his mouth open. “Please,” he said. “It was a moment of weakness. It will never happen again. I give you my word.”

“You can’t make that promise. You’re not well.” You wrapped your arms around yourself. “What if next time… you can’t stop?”

He rubbed his face in his hands. “I promise I will overcome my mother's torture, because, Y/n, I love-”

“No,” you said. “Don’t say it.” You turned away from him, hiding your tears. “If you say those words, I won’t want to walk away from you. And I can't forgive what you did tonight.”

And before Elijah could reply, you were gone.

—

MAIN MASTERLIST

Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋

[toffee32]

Doodled Father Elijah with little Veronica yesterday. I'm emo since I finished Dead Money. My heart was indeed left in Sierra Madre, much to reflect on... ''do you think this obsessive psycopath ever felt warmth in his heart from experiencing real love?'' I asked on twitter when I posted this over there. I got many interesting responses that have my eyes still tearing up.

[kinglyisms]

[niphuial]

Father Riley stares at Viktor, eyes cold as he takes in everything the man says. He shakes his head, fury growing in him. "You are lucky we still have some of the doppelganger's maidenhood blood, Viktor. We can use that to repel the Noble--but you will give us the money he gave you to spill our secrets...and then you will go fetch the Doppelganger. Her blood holds the secrets of true immortality, and we will have it." He snaps, twisting back into the church, and summoning his coven to him. "Prepare the remaining Doppelganger blood. We have a human noble on the way set to avenge the Doppelganger. We'll simply mess with his mind and send him on his way." He informs the other witches, who set to their tasks, and soon the church is filled with the smell of herbs and the doppelganger's sweet blood.

A smirk appears on Riley's face as one of the younger members signal the approach of the noble, and he settles on a calm facade. "Welcome stranger. Have you come to pray for forgiveness?"

this would be fun to watch

[blackleatherjacketz]

Shadow and Sin: Chapter 5

Elijah Mikaelson, Klaus Mikaelson x Female Reader

Summary: Having just moved to New Orleans, you get intimately acquainted with both Mikaelson brothers, but don't find out who they are until it's too late.

This Chapter: You wrap things up with Elijah and reflect on your situation before Klaus invites you over for a private mentoring session.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only!, Kissing, Dancing, Painting, Brush Play, Groping, Nipple Play, Light Masochism, Praise Kink, Vaginal Fingering, Neck Kissing/Licking, Female Orgasm, Power Imbalance

Word Count: 2.8k+

Read the rest of the story HERE

You spent the next few hours with Elijah that night, allowing yourself to feel worthy enough to take his hand and follow him out onto the dance floor. He took you back in time to the sounds of Cab Calloway and Ella Fitzgerald as the rest of the world faded into a blurry whirl around you. His strong hands grasped at your waist and fingers with such ease as he drew you in closer, you got the feeling that you were always meant to be held by him as that delicate grin idly spread across his lips.

For the very first time in your life, you finally felt the way society had born and bred you to feel around a man, the butterflies in your stomach insisting on lifting you all the way up to the ceiling if he weren’t there to anchor you to the floor. You could hear trumpets in the background, barely audible over the loud thumping of your heart as his hand slithered up your lower back, pressing your heaving chest against his before tilting your torso down in a dramatic dip. Instinctively, your arm reached up and wrapped around his neck, holding on for dear life as the music sped up, his lips grazing over yours. Your halted breath nearly made you see stars, his teasing mouth driving you wild as it mapped its way across your chin and jawline, forcing you to turn your cheek toward his.

He’d quickly straightened your spine back to a standing position, keeping the distance, or lack thereof, between you as your body trembled against his. All thoughts of Klaus had been pushed to the back of your mind as his freshly shaven face brushed against yours, turning toward you until his lips finally tasted the flavor of your desire for him. The kiss was chaste at first, slowly deepening as he held you tighter, his fingers pressed snugly between your shoulder blades to keep you from depriving him of what he wanted all along, of what you both always knew you wanted from each other.

The night, however, had ended shortly after that, Elijah claiming that he was a gentleman who wanted to take his time getting to know you as those butterflies were slow to calm their wings. He had given you his number so he ‘didn’t have to stalk you anymore’ and called you an Uber to safely drive you home. You fell asleep that night secretly hoping that he wasn’t going to be the one to get bored of you before disappearing into thin air.

———————-

A text from Klaus wakes you from your slumber mid morning, telling you to meet him at his studio around eight o’clock tonight, and to be ready to paint. Shit, you’d nearly forgotten about Klaus! You sit up and run a hurried hand through your hair, squinting at your phone to make sure Elijah hadn’t texted you after you told him that you’d gotten home safe, but he hadn’t. This is all starting to get a bit more twisted than you’d anticipated, a small sense of guilt climbing its way into your chest before you take a deep breath and force it out of your system.

Wait a minute, how many men have dated multiple women at the same time until they were sure which one they wanted a relationship with? And even then, how many of them did they keep on the back burner ‘just in case’? How many of them had lied in the process, leading them on until it was too late, or let them believe that they were something more than what they actually were? In comparison to their tactics, you aren’t doing anything vile or deceitful, you’re just… keeping your options open until you know how you feel. You aren’t even exclusive with either one of them just yet.

With all that in mind, you get dressed and go about your day, eventually driving over to the address Klaus had sent you, hoping your session with him tonight could make things a little clearer. With a bag full of paint and brushes on your shoulder, you reluctantly knock on the door of the industrial looking building he’d claimed as his studio.

“I do hope my little protégé is well rested after her rounds at the hospital.” Klaus greets you in a black Henley, streaks of green paint slowly drying on his knuckles as he holds up a glass of wine for you to take. He must have been eagerly awaiting your arrival.

“Well, not all of us are lucky enough to benefit from generational wealth.” You defend yourself, taking the glass of wine from him and following him inside the open concept studio.

Its ceilings are rather high for it being on the first floor, the windows taking up most of the east side as it offers a beautifully vast view of the river and the glittering city skyline. Composed mostly of exposed brick and steel piping with chipped paint, this isn’t exactly what you had pictured for someone like him, but you can’t imagine what you would have dreamed up in its place. “Wow, this place is amazing. You live here?”

“Oh no, this is just a studio I rent to get away from the unceasingly tiresome dramatics of my family.” He walks you past a few paintings of his own, beautifully emotive pieces of different styles stacked on tables and chairs, even a few scattered across the floor. It seems that painting for him is a necessity, a constant itch that he has to scratch in order to keep himself from going mad.

“Your family?” Oh god, is he married? Are you the other woman? You quickly glance down at his ring finger, relieved to find it devoid of any jewelry.

“My siblings, love.” He looks back and winks at you, easing your mind as if he already knew where it was going. “The lot of us still manage to get under each other's skin while living under the same roof, so I’ve had to result to this… barbaric hideaway in order to get any peace and quiet for my work.”

You roll your eyes as he calls this expensive piece of real estate barbaric, secretly glad that you didn’t invite him over to your place to paint. You wonder what eloquent and deeply offensive adjectives he’d throw your way when he saw the tiny corner of your apartment that you painted in, or all of your hand-me-down furniture.

“Well, I like it.” You tell him before taking a sip of your wine.

“Imagine my relief.” He jokes, stopping in front of a blank canvas mounted on an easel as he grabs a half-full wine glass that had been warming on the table next to it. “Now tell me, what gets a woman like you in the mood to paint? What inspires my little Frida Kahlo to create the bold masterpieces I’ve seen? With all that anger brewing inside you, I imagine it doesn’t take much.” He downs his drink and sets it back down where he found it. “But you don’t look very angry now.”

“No?” You raise an eyebrow before taking another sip, wondering where he’s going with this.

“On the contrary, love, you look quite well.” He waltzes toward you, his features shifting from jovial to predatory in an instant. “I was thinking we could work with that, that we could start off with a sort of collaboration. Nothing too fancy, just a way to get those creative juices flowing.”

“Collaboration? I’ve never done anything like that before.” You admit, all of the sudden getting uneasy about your skill set. What if your nerves get the best of you while he’s around, and you can’t deliver? What if he regrets taking you on as his protégé?

“Have you ever tried abstract before?” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and turns on some music, the open space allowing it to echo beautifully around you before he sets it down on the table.

“Abstract? No, not really.” You don’t hate the idea of abstract, but you’ve always just felt that it was sort of… too easy, somehow, a cheat that anyone could do. But you guess you’ll never really know until you try.

“No matter.” He walks around the table ladled with paints and jars full of different colored water, twisting the caps off a handful of colors before squeezing them into individual mason jars, carefully setting them in front of the canvas. His eyes glance up at you ever so often, watching you as if he fears that you’ll sprout wings and fly away if he loses sight of you for too long. “Are you willing to experiment with me?”

Jesus. What a loaded question.

He fills a glass of water and sets it down next to the rest of the paints, his darkened eyes back on you. “Are you ready to toss those inhibitions aside and create something truly spectacular?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” You shrug your shoulders as if he isn’t aware of the insanely magnetic pull he seems to have on you any time you’re near him. As if he can’t already feel the air between you charge with potential energy, each atom vibrating at an accelerated rate, begging to be pushed into motion by either one of you at any moment. As if he couldn’t see all of that written plain as day, across your face as your features soften for him.

“That wasn’t an answer.” He twirls a clean paint brush in between his fingers as he strides up to you, pointing it at your face before tracing it along your chin and neck, humming to himself as he awaits your reply. His full lips pout as he brings them closer to your face, a habit you’ll never quite get used to, but certainly won’t complain about as the bristles from the brush excite each and every strand of fine hair across your skin.

“I’m ready,” you whisper as your lips remain parted, the muscles in your thighs and abdomen tightening instinctively.

“Good girl. Then let’s start by painting the canvas a color that matches your mood.” He continues to drag the brush slowly down your neck and across your clavicle, his eyes following raptly as it forces your breath to still. “I wonder what you could be feeling right now?”

Goddamnit. He’s really got his claws in you now.

“Excitement,” you start, trying to slow and deepen your breath as it shallows in your heaving chest.

“Excitement? Is that all?” He takes your hand and firmly places the brush in your palm before stepping behind you, keeping contact with your skin the entire time. “I fell in love with your artwork because it was brutally honest about the gruesome horrors of this world, and all you have to give me is ‘excitement’?” He clicks his tongue. “No, you can do much better than that. Why don’t you tell me what feeling makes those pretty little cheeks flush such a deep crimson, what makes that bleeding heart of yours race inside your chest every time our eyes meet.” He feathers his palms over your shoulders and moves your hair away from your neck. “I want to hear you say it.”

You swallow hard as he pushes your buttons, his hands collecting your hair to one side before smoothing their way down your arms, eventually finding familiarity on both of your hips before you finally speak. “I feel aroused.”

God, you’re so bad at dirty talk.

“Well, that wasn’t so hard, now was it?” He guides you toward the canvas step by step, his breath hot on your neck as his hands slink up under your shirt, smoothing their way up your belly until they slip beneath your bra. “Admitting how you feel?”

“No,” you whisper your lie softly, gasping as your nipples harden against his palms, putting any doubt of his intentions to rest. “It wasn’t.”

“Well don’t tell me about it, love, put it on the canvas.” He instructs coldly, squeezing your breasts as you shudder beneath his touch.

“Right.” You take the brush and try to keep it as steady as possible despite his seductive distraction, placing a large amount of red onto the palette before adding a hint of blue, mixing the two together into a deep, moody magenta. A twinge of pain shoots up into your spine as Klaus pinches both your nipples, forcing you to drag the brush across the canvas in a sporadic, diagonal pattern. “Klaus!”

“Don't mind me, just keep on painting.” He kisses his words into the delicate skin of your neck, twisting your sensitive tissue even harder as he draws out a tiny yelp from your lips and an arch from your back.

It takes every ounce of self control you have not to drop the brush and turn around to face him, but you continue to paint the base of the canvas the vibrant color of your desire. Through heavily hooded lids, you finally finish every corner, setting your brush down as Klaus takes the opportunity to pull your shirt off over your head before unclasping your bra.

“See how freeing it is to try something new?” He pushes the straps of your bra down your shoulders, tickling your skin even more until it falls onto the floor next to your shirt.

“Yes,” you whisper, the sudden exposure making you shiver in the air conditioning before the heat of his arms comforts you.

“Now,” he wraps his fingers around yours, guiding your hand to clean the brush in the water as his other hand makes quick work of unbuttoning your jeans. “Let’s really set you free.”

Like a puppet on a string, he has you dry the brush off before the two of you dip it into the black paint, letting it build and collect on the tip before lifting it back up. He takes his time before making you press it against the canvas, allowing it to drip down along its path, splattering onto your breasts and shoulders before leaving a trail of dots and streaks across the magenta background of your work. It’s almost enough to distract you from his fingers that now delve in between your folds, collecting your liquid warmth as if it were colorful paint itself and his fingers the brush, spreading a clear coat up and down your length before pulling up on your clit.

“Oh my god, Klaus” you whisper as he works his magic between your thighs, continuing to zigzag the black, tarry ooze across the canvas until the brush nearly runs dry.

“Look at that,” he nips at your ear, whispering his praise against it in a gravelly tone. “You’re a natural abstract artist after all.” He kisses the spot just behind your jaw, suckling your skin before licking the path of your pulse until he reaches the nape of your neck.

“You… you bit me last time.” You recall out loud, nearly getting lost in the lustful haze he’s so expertly created just for you.

“I did.” He smiles as he tastes more of your skin, thinking fondly of your last encounter as he rubs deep circles into your bud. “And you liked it.”

“I did.” Your breathless reply surprises you both, floating into the air a little too quickly as his fingers send more signals of hypnotic bliss up into your core, forcing you to drop the brush onto the floor.

“I knew it, I could see it in your eyes that night. You enjoy a bit of pain with your pleasure, is that it?” He lets go of your hand and grabs your chin, turning your face toward him.

“Yes.” His gorgeous face only adds to your building euphoria, alighting every neuron beneath his fingertips as he calls you out.

“Well, it turns out great minds think alike.” His blackened pupils expand with his growing arousal, their bluish green tint fading off into the recesses of his eyes. “We’re going to have so much fun together.”

You nod in response, barely able to utter a word as his fingers steal your breath completely, drawing a fuzzy curtain over your field of vision as odd patterns glow and fade over his skin and curls. You watch him grin as your visions intensify, changing colors, dimensions and brightness as he touches you in the perfect pattern to make your muscles clench and spasm in his arms, your toes curling from his deliciously expert precision.

“That’s it, love,” he whispers, turning your head to face the canvas as your orgasm rips its way through you. “See all those colors? All those patterns you couldn’t have even dreamed of before?”

“I see them,” you stammer, a stuttered breath in between each syllable as your heart threatens to break out of your ribcage. “Stars and pyramids…”

“Those are all for you.” He pushes his fingers inside your slick, wet walls, refusing to let your body come down from its chemical high just yet. “I want you to paint them for me.”

[written-in-flowers]

Losing Humanity: OT8 x Male!Reader Pt. 1

Pairing: Vampire!Hyunjin x Male!Reader (end game) | Side pairings: OT8 x Male!reader, Vampire!Felix x Lycan!Chan, Vampire!Minho x Lycan!Han

Genre: Angst, smut, horror | Au: Resident Evil: Village, vampires, werewolves/lycans, hybrids.

Word Count: 7k

Summary: Following a dreadful experiment, YN has to wrestle with his new body and abilities. With the help of the four lords and their sons, he might be able to find the family and purpose he'd been looking for.

Overall Tags: strangers to lovers, exes to lovers, secret romances, feuding families, omegaverse, alpha/beta/omega dynamics, graphic depictions of violence, blood and violence, mad science experiments, eventual smut, male reader fic, graphic depictions of human to monster transformations, horror, suspense. anal sex, anal fingering, loss of virginity, virgin!reader, threesome -/m/m/m, group sex, rimming, blowjobs, rough blowjobs, water sex, outdoor sex, harem but one end game, happy ending, tentacle sex, hallucinations, psychological horror

Disclaimer: These works are completely fictitious and for entertainment purposes only. They are not meant to reflect or label the members of Stray Kids in any way. The events within never took place. Thank you.

A/N: this is a revamped version of an ATEEZ fic I'd written a while ago, but only better haha I hope you still enjoy it even as Stray Kids.

Next |

***

“Here’s where I stop,” the coachman told you in a gruff voice. “The horses won’t go any further.”

You stared out from the back of the wagon to the road ahead. Stretching about a mile, the harsh cold path made for an intimidating walk. Black rocks covered lightly with snow lined the long wheel tracks carts and horses made right up to this point. Beyond, it appeared as if very few trekked the rest of the way. The idea of walking through the freezing cold with nothing but your jacket, pants and boots seemed daunting. Your father told you the journey to the castle wouldn’t be easy, but it’d be worth it in the end. 

“Why not?” You asked, hoping the coachman might change his mind. 

“The place frightens them,” he said. “They won’t go any farther than this before they start getting riled up. That place is cursed, I tell you.” He faced forward as if looking at the castle himself, “You have to be mad or desperate to go up there.”

“So, I’m to walk the rest of the way?” Walking alone up a tall mountain in the dark was not ideal during these times. “Is that safe?”  

“The castle isn’t that far from here,” he said. “It’s only about half a mile until you reach the gates, then a bit more after that.”

You’d dreaded the answer, but still wasn't surprised. A lot of villagers showed hesitancy when they spoke of Castle Dimitrescu. The mistress of the castle ruled over their side of the village with an iron fist. Your mother used to say it was by the grace and protection of Mother Miranda that she didn’t slaughter the whole village. But, that did not stop anyone from noticing the disappearances or missing livestock. 

Your neighbor woke up his entire household shouting about the maimed carcass of his prized cow, Anita. He told your father that he found her torn to bits in her stall, large chunks of flesh bitten off right to the bone. You suggested that a wolf might’ve gotten into his barn, but you said that to try diverting from what really troubled everyone: the beasts ate her. You shivered thinking of the hairy, snarling, bloody monsters who occasionally roam the forests, ravaging anything they can get their hands on. You pictured them feasting on the corpse of young, pretty Camila, who’d gone missing several days ago or strong farmer Elijah who’d last been seen working in his field. Only one person showed no fear upon entering the woods: The Huntsman. 

The Huntsman became the village protector when they slaughtered a pack of monsters who'd broken through the gates. You never saw them up close, since they rarely traveled into the village and often wore a wide-brimmed hat that covered their face, but their long black coat and gloves made them recognizable. Their weapons proficiency and skill was unmatched. People swore they must be a beast in a much tamer form, with how quickly they dodged and wrestled the monsters to the ground. 

You wished they'd come with you. 

“Well, thank you for getting me this far,” you said to the coachman as you hopped off the wagon. “I wouldn’t have made it before dark if you had not come.”

“Mother Miranda says we must show each other kindness and generosity when we can,” he said, tipping his hat, “I pray that you reach the castle safely.” 

“Thank you.” 

You shouldered your bag, and then began the trek up the mountain path. A curving, narrow road thickened by snow stretched ahead into the dark. You hoped the walk was not long, since the hour grew later and the sun began setting over the dense forests beyond. The higher you’d gone up the mountain, the colder the winds became. The chill blew through your jacket every time you moved, but you managed. You were no stranger to the cold since you spent many nights huddled by the dwindling fireplace at home. You did your best not to look between the trees lining the path or walk too briskly. One needed to keep their wits about them while walking through the woods. If you stared into the trees, there may be something staring right back. Speedy walking might invite said figure to chase you, and you’d come too far to be a meal now. 

You continued along the way until you reached a tall iron gate. A symbol topped the gate: a large flower over two crossed swords. The insignia for House Dimitrescu. You searched around for a guard or caretaker, but nobody came. Timidly, you pushed on the gate and to your surprise it opened. As you stood there at the opening, a deep dread settled itself into his stomach. The feeling told you to turn back, and find another way to help feed your family. Yet, determination and pride put one foot in front of the other. You had no choice. Your father’s crops did not yield their usual abundance and your mother’s illness grew stronger. They had suggested you take a position in the castle’s employ. Families of those who worked in the castle received gold and even food parcels from their loved ones. Perhaps The Lady pays in goods and a bit of gold for service. You hoped working in the castle would feed the family. You pressed onwards. 

The stone castle stood at the end of the road. The gray building looked dark and foreboding. High towers and battlements reached up into the sky, blocking out the bit of sunlight still left to the world, with tall windows surveying the yard below. Seeing the withering or bare foliage around the front entrance, it was no wonder the coachman’s horses steered clear of the place. Even standing at the front steps, every nerve in your body told you to run. The lack of guards or servants unnerved you as well. Didn’t castles have people bustling about? Noise and chatter in the air, bringing life to the silent building? You’d always thought so. Regardless, turning back was no longer an option. You climbed the steep steps to the doors, and pulled it open. 

Cautiously, you walked into the small entrance hall. A long carpet went up a short flight of stairs, leading into a room with a domed ceiling. Nervousness sets in deeper when you realize how little light filled the room. Two tall candelabras stood in inverted walls and another sat on a side table. The priceless antiques and refined appearance truly befitted the aristocratic family. However, it wasn’t these that caught your attention. 

Hanging between the candelabras was a tall painting of four young men in an intricate gold frame. A blond, two black haired, and one with brown hair. They each dressed in upper class fashion with vests, high collared shirts with silk cravats. They clearly came from wealth judging by how they carried themselves even in a painting. You read a plaque right at the bottom. 

‘Felix, Hyunjin, Minho and Jimin Dimitrescu’. 

The Lady’s sons. Yes, you’d heard of them though had never seen them before. People said they could be as deadly as their mother, and you did not doubt that. You gazed around for a moment, expecting to find a servant or a butler welcoming their newest worker. Not a single soul. You found yourself completely alone. 

“Hello?” You dared to speak into the empty, dim room. “Is anyone here?”

A faint buzzing sound suddenly came from a hallway on your left and you gasped. The large swarm of flies move fluidly from behind the oak wood doors and into the entrance hall. Panic jumped into your throat and you moved to run before the flies blocked your path. 

Suddenly, three men materialized. You realized at once who they were. Before you stood three of Lady Dimitrescu’s sons, the blond, black haired and brunet. They each wore long black coats with hoods over their heads. The one with brown hair came up close first. While his brothers kept their hair to their shoulders, he had his hair trimmed short. He carried a regal sophistication befitting his station. He had his chin up and back straight, with a certain kind of sternness in his eyes. It struck fear into you far too easily. 

You shifted your eyes away as the man examined your features. “Oh yes,” he said, turning your face this way and that, "I think he will do nicely. Felix?” 

He scanned over him one more time before the blond came up next. Felix, as the other called him, carried a glint in his eye that sent shivers through your bones. His golden hair created a stark contrast between his face and the hood over his head. He had a spread of freckles along his cheeks and nose, and his eyes did not devour you as the others did. A gloved hand caressed your jawline as he examined your face like a jeweler studying a new gem. What were they looking at? The unknowing frightened you more. When you tried looking away from him, Felix forced you by the chin. Something about the three of them churned your stomach, and every razzled nerve screamed to flee.

“I agree, Minho” he finally said, “He is perfect. He has strong bones and his blood seems to pump at a normal rate. He is young enough to withstand the strain. How old are you? Nineteen? Twenty?” 

"Twenty-three," you squeaked. 

"Hm, good, good."

“He’s pretty,” the black haired man behind them said. “Much prettier than anyone we’ve gotten so far.” 

“Looks are not important in the experiment, Hyunjin,” Felix rolled his eyes. 

“No, but they certainly are a benefit.” 

You flinched when he reached for you. His hair the shade of night stayed tied from his face, giving way to his angular features. That and his sharp eyes reminded you of a black cat hiding in the bushes. He was beautiful, but terrifying. He was a siren that lured men to their deaths; a venus flower that traps its victims between its jaws. The image of him lying in wait for you in the forest crossed your mind, and you gulped. You couldn’t stop staring into his dark eyes, wanting to be near him while also wishing to run away. Were it not for the tinge of red on the inner parts of his lips, he’d appeal to you more.  

“Are you sure we can't take him upstairs?” he asked Felix, smirking at you. "We can tie him down and play with him," he came closer, a strange metallic smell on his breath, "I bet that mouth can make the sweetest sounds…"

“Wha-Wha-” You could hardly get the words out. 

“I won’t hurt you, pretty,” Hyunjin said, drawing closer and closer. Gloved fingers traced down  your chest, and you stepped away. “I’ve been told I can be a very gentle lover,” he said before Felix stood between them. 

“You have your own playthings in the cellars,” he hissed. “Go fiddle with them and leave my subject alone.” 

“Ugh, you never let me have any fun!” 

Their words sickened and frightened you. You tried concealing the ice being pumped into your veins from your heart. Felix reached to touch your cheek, but frowned when you pulled away. 

“What do you want with me?” You heard yourself squeak out. 

“Nothing much,” answered Felix. “Just your body."

“My body?!"

"Don't worry," he sneered, "You won't miss it."

You realized then what happened to the servants before you. Quickly, you recalled how eagerly your father insisted you find work in the castle. He’d spent days telling you how beneficial it’d be for the family, and how desperately they needed the money. When a family in town received packages after sending their daughter to the castle, he noted how it could be them eating fresh bread and butter. Your mother could get the medicine she needed. They’d get coal for the fire and oil for the lamps. Did he know the truth and simply hid it from you, his only son? It would’ve saddened you if panic did not overcome you so easily. To him, he’s helping the family. He’s helping by making you one less mouth to feed. Your shaky hands gripped your bag to keep themselves steady. 

“It won’t hurt,” Felix assured you. “Well, not too badly.”

“Mother isn’t home yet,” Minho told him. “She’ll be away for a while, so there’s plenty of time.” 

"You only need to relax," hissed Hyunjin, finger tracing your collarbone. "I know a few things that can help with that."

“No,” you said in a shaky breath. “No, please…I have a family…they’ll come looking for me…”

Felix laughed, “Silly boy. Your family sent you up here for this very reason.” He then said, “So, do what you’re told, and come with us.”

He didn’t grab your hand quickly enough. You rushed for the large front doors, slamming into them from the force of the sprint before realizing they’d been locked. Over your shoulder, you saw the three men staring at you wickedly. The sound of faint buzzing jolted you alive. 

“Brother!” one of the men called, “Where are you going? You only just arrived!”

You didn’t waste time asking for an explanation. Seeing a room off to the side, you made a break for it. Running down a corridor and another flight of stairs, your only light was the moonlight shining through the windows. How could anyone see in such darkness? The curtain windows kept you from gaining a sense of direction. The buzzing grew louder behind you, and you went down the next corridor you found. Bursting through an archway, you ended up in a large room with checkered flooring and a high ceiling. Four strange statues stood guard in front of a doorway, and you knew this way would be pointless. You needed to find a way out. You rushed through to another corner area, before reaching a hallway. You didn’t hear the insects anymore, but that elevated your anxiety. You shouldn’t have come here. You should’ve gone back home, told your father the Lady didn’t need any more servants, and stayed there. Now, you were running for your life. 

You kept running until you ended up in a bed chamber. The fireplace being the only source of light, it flickered across the walls and gave everything a warm glow. You stared around for a hiding spot, but not quickly enough. Suddenly, hundreds of flies surrounded you and you did your best to shield your face. Their sharp teeth sunk into your arms, legs and torso; their buzzing deafened you to the rest of the world. You grimaced, and swatted at the ones trying to nibble your face, nearly stumbling backwards over a footstool in the process. 

“Ah, there you are, lovely,” he heard Hyunjin chuckle darkly. The flies suddenly flew from him and swirled around until they created his full form. He stared down at you, a distinct seduction in his eyes. “Looks like you found my favorite room in the castle. How about I lock the door and we get to know each other better?” 

You didn’t respond. You clambered to your feet, then made a dash past Hyunjin, breaking through a wall of insects in the process. Hurrying back down the way you’d come, hearing Hyunjin’s laughter somewhere behind, you returned to the room with the statues. Running through the main hall, a high-ceiling with a large crystal chandelier above the checkered floors, you nearly bumped into one of the chairs in front of the fire. You hardly felt it as you kept moving. You desperately searched for a place to hide, but you found so few places. Moving through large ornate doors, you entered a dark dining room. 

A dining room with a long table, bright moonlight became the only source of light guiding you through. You hoped the darkness might shield you from your pursuer until you reached outside. You bumped into one of the tall-backed chairs on your way to the other door, but the pain didn’t distract you. What did they want with you anyways? Kill you? Feed off of you? You didn’t want to think about it. How could your father do this to you? You saw a pair of doors, and seeing the courtyard outside, realized that might be a way out. 

“Oh, Brother,” Hyunjin’s voice came through the room in a sing-song voice. “Where are you?”

You scrambled and ducked behind one of the dining chairs. Buzzing preceded Hyunjin’s entry, and you spotted his reflection in a glass cabinet door. You covered your mouth to keep yourself quiet. Hyunjin’s top half remained human, but his bottom half broke off into the black flies so he glided about the room. 

“We promise we won’t hurt you,” he said innocently. “Not much, at least.” You heard him give a short sniff, "I know you're in here. I can smell your sweet, thick, hot blood. I can almost taste it on my tongue, and it’s delicious. I bet other parts of you taste just as good.” 

You waited until Hyunjin turned his back to quickly go through the doors into the courtyard. 

An iron gazebo stood in the center of the courtyard, which broke off into different sections of the castle. You continued glancing around for signs of the three brothers, since Hyunjin had been on his trail minutes ago. You were certain they meant to toy with you before killing you. They can move faster; they’re likely stronger, yet have not caught you yet. You hoped to be gone before they discovered you again. On the right side, a cobbled pathway lead through an archway out into a garden area. 

Hedges lined the walkways around the expansive space, circling around a bronze fountain statue in the middle. The garden must be beautiful in the spring, but in the winter, it was a frozen eden. Dead trees and withering bushes decorated the space, and ice and snow covered the fountains and benches. Your boots crushed the thin layer of snow on the ground as you ran through to a high wall on the other side. 

“Brother!” It was Minho this time, whose voice came from somewhere in the distance. “Brother, where are you?”

You grabbed onto a thick vine clinging to the stone fence, placed your foot on one at the bottom, then lifted yourself onto the wall. You ignored the voices calling from inside the castle, and started climbing. It did not take much time to scale the ten foot wall, even if the icy stones and frozen vines burned your hands. Desperation and panic numbed you to the sensations around you. You’d been a fool to come here.  You should’ve listened to your gut when you stepped up to the house, but you’d thought of your family. Your father made it sound so important that you go to the castle; he said it’d help the family in such a special way. It hurt thinking your father intended to serve you on a platter to these people. You wanted to think he didn’t know and really thought his son was manning stables or serving meals from a kitchen. With all the talk of aiding their family, you believed you’d be doing more for them than toiling in dying corn crops. 

To them, the best thing you could do is die. 

You reached the top of the wall, and swung your leg over the side. Freedom hit you right before something swiped at your feet from below. A large black beast growled from several feet below, yellow eyes glowing at you angrily. It resembled a wolf, but it stood on hind legs with the body of a man covered in fur. A scream escaped you and you fell into the garden again. Your back hitting the ground hard shocks of pain went through your body. You heard more growling and barking from behind the wall; long claws scratched the hard stone, and feet kicking the snowy earth. The fall disoriented you long enough that you didn’t notice the figure gliding up to him. 

“Ah, there you are!” Minho looked down, his hood bringing a shadow over his face. “We’ve been looking for you.” 

In this brief moment of weakness, the overwhelming sounds of fluttering wings filled your ears. You swiped at those buzzing around you, pinching your eardrums with their high-pitched sounds, before Minho and Hyunjin grabbed your wrists. A scream ripped through your throat as the two men dragged you behind them. Felix joined them at your feet as you struggled and wildly fought for escape. Fear injected itself into you fully, creating a list of scenarios that were worse than anything you imagined previously. Felix soon flew right over you, his body a dark cloud of flies, and he deeply inhaled your scent. 

“Virgin blood,” he smiled drunkenly. “So sweet. So pure.” He took another hint, then said, “Too bad I won’t get a drop of it…” 

You saw the hallways and stairwells of the castle fly by until they went into complete darkness. The backs of your ankles and legs scraped against hard, rough surfaces, and you cried out whenever they knocked onto the floor too hard. Deprived of your main senses, you could do nothing but let them take you further into the castle dungeons.

"Put him on the table," Felix instructed his siblings. "I'll prepare everything else."

Hyunjin and Minho brought you onto a wooden slab in a dimly lit room. When you glanced around, you realized they’d brought you into a room beneath the castle. Soft candlelight hung above to bring light against the black stone walls, illuminating the workbenches and tables of books, chemicals, petri dishes and various works in progress. A laboratory. They did not plan to kill you. They planned to torture you. 

“What is going on?” You asked, panting and crying as Hyunjin and Minho strapped you to a wooden table. You let out a choked sob, and you squeezed the blinding tears. You panicked when you saw them strapping down your ankles next."Wait, no! Please! What are you doing? Stop! Pl-please!"

Felix picked up a jar containing a strange mass inside of it; you heard him muttering under his breath, and your fear worsened. You struggled against the straps holding you down, hoping they might give way if you tried hard enough, but to no avail. Minho meanwhile reached for a clear bottle while Hyunjin unsheathed a small knife from under his cloak. 

"What is happening?" You sobbed though none of them answered. "Why are you doing this to me?" You cried, "Please, I want to go home. I won't tell anyone anything. Please-"

"-Roll up your sleeve, Hyunjin," Minho told his brother, coming to him with two needles and vials in hand. 

Hyunjin did as requested. He shook back his sleeve to reveal his wrist, which he presented to one of Minho’s needles. You saw him sink one needle into Hyunjin’s veins, dark red blood filling the vial halfway. Both men waited for enough blood to fill the vial before Minho pulled away from him. This was not before you saw the cut seal itself closed. 

"What are you going to do with that?" You asked, horrified when you saw Minho attached a needle and tube to the end of the syringe. "That's blood! You're putting blood in me?"

"It's the only way you'll be one of us," said Minho. "Hold still or this will hurt even more."

"Wha-"

You flinched when Hyunjin tore off your shirt sleeve and tied it tightly around your bicep. Minho then started flicking the space between forearm and upper arm. 

"Stop struggling," Minho grunted, "I can't do it right if you're moving around."

You should've kissed your mother goodbye longer. She’d die thinking you’re living a good life in the castle; perhaps that is best. She’d be happy for you. Perhaps she’ll get her medicine and feel better. You’d thought you’d have plenty of chances to hug and kiss them. Now, you wouldn’t have that chance ever again. Minho managed to find the vein, and sunk the needle into it, ignoring your wincing. 

"He has strong veins, Felix," Minho said. "That is a good sign, no?"

"It is."

You couldn't look. You didn't see Minho inject Hyunjin's blood into your arm, but you certainly felt it. A deep searing pain suddenly ran through your veins. It scorched every nerve, causing you to violently shake on the table. Your screams went unheard by the brothers, who continued their ‘experiment’. You barely felt it when Hyunjin ripped open your shirt to reveal the torso underneath. The pain numbed you to the knife cutting from beneath the chest to the naval. The thick scent of blood filled your lungs; it spilled, fast and hot, from the gash in your stomach. You’re sure to die now. You cried out for your mother, for your father, for Mother Miranda, their protector and savior.  

Felix finally turned around, and in your blurry vision, you saw him holding a glass jar. You could not make out the inside, but it wiggled and ticked as it knocked into the glass sides. 

“Stay still,” Felix said, unscrewing the lid. “Moving around too much will interrupt the process.”

“This is the last time, Felix,” Minho said, putting the needle and vial aside. “Right?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” he replied. 

Your jaw clenched so tight you couldn’t speak. Felix took out the contents of the jar with a pair of forceps. The creature wriggled between the metal clamps, but Felix had no trouble holding it steady. Your eyes widened when it came close enough for you to see it. Fleshy and pink, the creature had a large head and bumpy skin. It made Minho and Hyunjin wrinkle their noses in disgust while you screamed in terror. Felix remained unfazed by it all. He placed the veiny beast up against the open wound, and then sunk it deep inside. 

The thing whirled around inside, its slimy membrane slicking the opening to go deeper. It took several seconds for you to realize the hard mass in your stomach was the creature. The burrowing sensation added a whole new addition of pain. Your fists curled until skin tightened over your knuckles. You thrashed around as much as your bonds let you as the parasite latched itself to you. Soon, you felt your abdomen sickly churning which then spread to the rest of you. Your father’s face swam in front of you; the face of the man meant to protect and guide you. He sent you here. He sent his only son to his death. 

You prayed it was worth it.

****

Felix stood beside the table, watching the body twitching and writhing on the table until you stopped all at once. His eyes scanned you for signs of mutation or transformation; he looked for graying skin or black claws or bloodshot yellow eyes. He expected any moment for the subject to start thrashing, growling and foaming at the mouth as you turned into a Lycan, like so many other failures. Either that or die and never come back. When none of that happened, he gingerly touched the stomach wound. The Cadou parasite’s membrane held regeneration properties, he’d learned, so it often healed whatever wounds it created to enter the body. Felix felt around for the mass, feeling a hard ball deep underneath the muscle. Felix knew the parasite will assimilate to the DNA and alter your genetic makeup. He hoped injecting blood already infected with mold mutations will strengthen the host’s body and aid in the transformation. It had to work. This must work. 

“He’s not dead,” said Hyunjin, his voice breaking the silence. “I can hear his heart beating.”

Felix could hear it too. Your mind may have gone blank, but that was the Cadou taking over. The last subject took three days to morph into a Lycan, which was then released into the wild by the brothers. 

“That’s good, right? It means he might survive,” Hyunjin continued. 

“Only time shall tell us.” 

Felix turned back to his work table where he kept all his notes and books, and put down the jar. This was his last one. If this one did not work out, then he’d need to go back to the reservoir where Moreau kept his stash of parasites. He hoped he didn’t have to. Even if he can now adapt to the cold mountain climate, he still hated going to that eerie, stinking lake. But, if it helped his cause, he'd endure it a million times. 

He promised himself he’d build something marvelous, a creature of pure strength and agility that will make his mother proud. He looked at the books on his table. Felix spent ages researching, collecting, and absorbing any word of information he could about the Cadou parasite and the mold. He’d observed Moreau’s experiments from afar, and read all of his mother’s and Mother Miranda’s notes as well as jotting down his own discoveries. One sheet in particular caught his eye and his heart dropped. 

The crest of House Dimitrescu was a large flower with two swords crossing underneath it. A symbol of feminine strength and unity. His mother often told him she saw herself as the center with her blossoms at her sides. It’d always be her and her children. There’d once been four of them, but that changed so quickly. 

“I found his things,” Minho’s voice cut through his thoughts. “He dropped it in the main hall. We might find something of use in here.”

“Like a name.” 

Lady Dimitrescu still wore Jimin’s flower. A black rose she kept pinned to her chest with three others so she could keep them with her at all times. He remembered his youngest brother as he flipped through his journal for a blank page. 

Jimin was the last of them to be “born”. Black strands falling on the sides of his face, he’d been wiry, strong and full of life. Felix remembered how his mother fawned over his sweet smile and how he’d pout his full lips when he didn’t get his way. His mother adored them all, but Jimin had been her baby. He’d also been the most reckless. Felix should’ve kept him back when his younger brother chased The Huntsman. He told him to stay with Mother, and he and the others would handle them, but no. He should’ve listened to Minho. He should’ve listened to Mother. 

With a gun blast to a window and a gust of cold air, Jimin’s life ended in a flash. 

‘Day 0: 

Subject is a twenty-three year old male. A bit malnourished, but has a strong heartbeat and responded to the treatment favorably. I inserted the parasite spliced with infected blood, about half of a vial to avoid one overcoming the other. By touch alone, the Cadou appears to have latched itself to the subject’s stomach and began spreading instantaneously. I wish I could cut him open to see the extent, but that will ruin everything. I have high hopes for this one. He shows real promise.’ 

“His name is YN,” he heard Minho say. “Somebody sewed it into his shirt collar.” 

‘Further testing needs to be conducted, but I might finally have the weapon I’ve been looking for.’ 

“He’s handsome,” said Hyunjin. “Mother will love him, I’m sure of it.” 

“Mother cannot know,” Felix said, writing down the last of his notes. “Not yet.” 

“Why not?” he asked. 

He didn’t want to tell them, but his brothers knew him better than most. “Because she doesn’t know you’re still doing this,” Minho suspected, “Does she?” Felix heard the outrage build in his deep voice, “Have you been keeping these a secret from her?”

“She’ll try to stop me,” Felix replied. “She’d been so brokenhearted when the first three failed,” he faltered at Minho’s angry eyes. “I couldn’t tell her that I’d continued the experiments without her. She already believes it’s pointless.”

“Mother Miranda forbids us from creating any more vessels,” Minho said. “She told Mother there will be serious consequences if we continue these experiments without her permission. You know how serious Miranda is about the parasites and the metamycete. Hyunjin and I will already be in enough trouble for helping you, but imagine what she’ll do to the person who disobeyed her orders and stole valuable resources from her?” Felix heard the frustration in his voice. Minho, the eldest, never failed to call out the truth. “Felix, this must cease. These experiments of yours must stop. This must be the last one.” 

Minho, the strong loyal son who did all he could to protect his family. He’d borne the same guilt after Jimin’s death, but he’d learned to move on. Felix could not. 

“But I am so close,” he implored, gazing right into his brother’s eyes. “I can feel it. This one will be a success. I know it will.”

“That is what you said of the last one, and they died within a few hours,” he said. 

“Because they were weak,” Felix retorted. “This one is strong. He’ll survive.” 

“Felix,” Minho said gently, “Please, promise us this will be the last one.” 

“We need to keep going,” he replied through gritted teeth. “We need to keep trying until we get the right one.”

“Promise us, Felix,” Hyunjin spoke up this time. “Mother is still grieving over Jimin. If she hears that you’ve been doing this, she might think you’re trying to replace him and become even more upset. Promise you’ll stop.”

“Mother will see I am right when he is ready,” Felix said. “Once she sees how strong, durable, and agile my creation is, she will forget all of that. She wants to kill The Huntsman more than any of the others. She wishes to seek revenge on them, and when she sees that my creation can do what we cannot, she’ll understand. When my creation is fully grown, Mother and Mother Miranda will see the benefits of having such a creature.”

“She said she did not want us going anywhere near The Huntsman,” said Hyunjin. “She doesn’t want to lose us too.”

“We won’t be going near them. He will,” he nodded to the body on the table. “The Huntsman is not the average villager. There is something different about them. I can tell.” He hesitated, “You two weren’t there. You weren’t there when Jiminie died.” 

His throat dried up suddenly, and he looked away from them. He’d heard Jimin’s cries from the lower kitchens during his search for an intruder. They’d been low, deep grunts as he fought off against a strange figure in a hooded trench coat. Felix recalled standing at the end of the hall leading towards the kitchen, and hearing Jimin fight for his life. He’d insisted on joining them in hunting down the person who’d broken into their castle. Felix told him to stay with their mother, but he'd escaped. Felix had flown right to the doorway, intent on handling the Huntsman himself, when the Huntsman shot at the window by the door. Icy cold air streamed into the room, creating a barrier between Felix and the two. His hand instinctively flexed when he thought of the burning, paralyzing ice on his hand. He tried pushing through several times, Jimin’s grunts making him more desperate, before it happened. 

The Huntsman grabbed Jimin by the collar and threw him into one of the windows. The direct contact caused Jimin’s body to stiffen, and Felix watched as his youngest brother succumbed to their one weakness. Felix chased the Huntsman throughout the castle, grief boiling his blood and fueling his rage, before the Huntsman made it outside and over the garden wall. All that was left of Jimin was his torso and crumbled crystals on the floor. Felix remembered kneeling beside him, sobbing and cradling the crystalline body full of regret and self-loathing. The grief worsened when his mother found them. Her cries still echo in his head late at night. 

“They got lucky,” Minho told him. “There is nothing special about them.”

“Then how come we cannot find them, hm?” he snapped, his own guilt starting to fill his chest once more. “Why can’t Heisenberg’s boys find them? Changbin, Chan and Han have a better sense of smell than any one-oh, do not make that face. You know it’s true,” he told Hyunjin, who’d scoffed. “They would have at least spotted a cottage or a hideout, but they haven't. I am telling you. That bastard, whoever they are, is not normal. We need someone who can rid us of them for good, and he is it.” 

Felix did not particularly like thinking of Chan Heisenberg. As if Jimin’s memory did not already break his heart, Chan only piled onto that. 

“Darling,” Hyunjin came to him, cupping his cheek, “What happened to Jimin isn’t your fault.”

Yes, it was, but he’d never say so out loud. 

“You’ve already done enough to prepare us for another attack,” he said. “You made us immune to the cold. If they were to come now, no amount of wind or ice could stop us. We do not need any experiment you create.” He pushed blond strands from Felix’s face, “You don’t have to keep doing this. You could possibly end up dead too, if the wrong person found out about this.” 

Hyunjin spoke truthfully, and Felix knew this. He will surely face Miranda’s wrath if she learned what he was up to; his mother might face consequences for her son’s actions. But, they’d understand the benefits of his plan with time. His mother did not always approve of his experiments. He hadn't forgotten his mother’s shock when she found him standing stark naked in their courtyard, letting the cold air touch his skin. 

Shortly after Jimin’s passing, Felix decided he wouldn’t lose another brother ever again. So, he went to work creating a genome that would give them the ability to adapt to freezing temperatures. He tested this mainly on himself: injecting the serum into his arm, then sticking his hand out the window. Starting with a hand, it soon became his whole arm, then his shoulder, then his chest, until finally he could stand in the cold unharmed. His insect form took time to adapt to the change, but soon enough he was able to move as swiftly outside as he could inside. He passed it to both Minho and Hyunjin, making all three men tolerant of the climate. 

When they saw The Huntsman again, no amount of icy wind could destroy them. 

"If this one fails-" Minho began to say, but Felix cut him off. 

"-It won't fail," he snapped. 

"If it does," he continued, "This will be the last one."

"What?"

"I won't participate in something that would hurt our mother," Minho said firmly. "She grieves enough for Jimin. Giving her false hope of another son is cruel even for you, Felix."

"She's in enough pain," Hyunjin added. "Even if she doesn't say it. She still has his corpse in her bed chambers. She won't put it in the crypt."

Felix knew this well. He often came across Jimin's crystalized torso standing in a glass display in his mother's bedroom. She’d look at it whenever she was alone and weep. It was another reminder of his failure and her loss. He promised himself he wouldn't let Jimin die in vain. He created the serum so she may never lose another son to weaknesses. He would give her another one to replace the boy she lost, and this time make him faster and stronger. 

"Fine," he stated, "If that's how you feel, you're free to not participate anymore. But, I am going to keep trying. The Huntsman needs to be stopped. If you two may not take this threat seriously, but I do. I won’t sit by and let them continue insulting our house; I won’t let them stomp out our bloodline. They will pay for what they have done to us, to our mother, to Jimin-” he stopped short, swallowing down the lump filling his throat and taking a breath. 

“Felix,” Minho said, “Jimin wouldn’t want you to do something that may get you killed-”

“-Well, Jimin isn’t here,” he growled. “He’s dead! He’s dead because I wasn’t strong enough to save him! I promised Mother I’d protect him, and I didn’t!” 

“Felix-”

"-Boys!" A female voice spoke from somewhere above. Their mother may be several feet above the dungeons, but they heard her faintly. "Boys, where are you?"

"Don't you two dare tell her," Felix warned them. 

"We won't," Minho said, "It is better she never learns of this."

"Felix? Minho? Hyunjinnie!" He heard their mother call to them again, “Boys?” 

"If this one should fail, she will never know."

"It will not fail."

"Come, let's away," Hyunjin said between them. "Mother is calling."

The three young men swirled into insects, and flew from their laboratory into the main hall. Lady Alcina Dimitrescu stood in the middle of the hall in front of the fire, her white gown illuminated by the flames. She sucked on the end of a cigarette holder coolly, letting the thick stream into the air as she contemplated quietly. Standing ten feet tall, her black hair in curls under a wide-brimmed hat, their mother was a woman of elegance and sophistication. Yet, even with this, she still exudes power, and demands the respect of her aristocratic birth. A smile graced her face when they appeared in front of her, immediately turning to them. However, the smile faded when she looked at them closely.

"You've been arguing," she stated, glancing between the three of them.

"Felix tried taking one of the corpses from the dungeons to his lab," Hyunjin said. His creative mind made him a clever liar. "I told him to leave them be since they have no use beyond their blood, but he disagreed."

"I wanted to study them," Felix added. "I wanted to see what made them turn into those undead things."

"It's obviously the blood disease, you fool," Minho rolled his eyes.

"I also wanted to see if I could somehow isolate that disease and use it for-"

"-To get a bigger head to fit your ego?-"

"-If anyone has an 'ego' around here, it's you-"

"-That's enough!" Their mother cut in, looking between the two of them. "I told you to leave those creatures alone, Lixie," she said, walking past them to a chair by the fire. “They are far past any real use to anyone.” 

“I was only curious, Mother,” he replied. His eyes met Minho’s, and the elder stuck out his tongue. 

"How was your meeting, Mother?" Hyunjin asked, gliding to her side and sitting on the floor, his head on her knee. He closed his eyes as her fingers combed through his dark hair. 

"Heisenberg didn't give you trouble, did he?" Asked Minho, grabbing a wine pitcher from nearby to pour glasses for them all. Sangrias Virginis. Maiden's Blood. House Dimitrescu were famous for their winemaking, having a special blend with a secret ingredient. 

Virgin blood. 

"Nothing outside the usual," she said. "Mother Miranda wished to discuss the baby again. She senses the child is close, and will soon be in our grasp."

"She already has you and the other lords. I don’t understand why she needs a baby," Hyunjin said, taking his own glass from Minho’s tray. "Could she not simply take a regular baby and use that? Why this specific one? "

"She believes this child has qualities that will make the experiment favorable" she replied. She took a long drink from the glass, then said, "Nothing can really replace a lost child. You cannot remake them a second time." The three men exchanged nervous glances and drank from their cups. She gave a soft sigh, "I made a decision, my sons."

"Yes?"

"I've decided," she paused, "I've decided it is time to put Jimin to rest."

"In the family crypt, you mean."

"No, not in the crypt. He never liked it down there. I thought perhaps in the music room. You know how much he loved music." Felix saw the sadness in his mother's eyes. "He deserves that.”

“What he deserves is vengeance,” Felix said over his cup. He swished the crimson liquid around in the silver wine glass, contemplating his subject downstairs. “He deserves to be avenged.”

“We have already discussed this, Felix,” Alcina said firmly. “You are not to seek out The Huntsman. You boys leave that filthy meatsack to me.” She then continued, “I think he’d look lovely in the nook in the corner.”

“I can paint a portrait of him for you, Mother,” said Hyunjin. “We can hang it next to him.”

“That’d be beautiful,” she agreed. 

Felix did not want to think of what that looked like. He imagined Jimin's corpse being put on display in their music room, a grand space across from Hyunjin’s atelier, where the grand piano sat. The family sometimes gathered there after dinner, where Jimin played his compositions on the piano or the violin. Felix did not want to think of his body sitting in its glass case, no longer able to play his beloved instruments for their entertainment anymore. It wouldn’t be a music room. It’d be a burial site. They'd carry him there, say kind words and put him in a corner. Felix drowned the vision with more wine, the blood thick on his tongue. He thought about the corpse on his lab table. 

You will not be another failure. He'd make sure of it.

***

A/N: Another experiment, Felix? Let's hope this one doesn't fail like the last. Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and that you stick around for the other chapters. Please feel free to reblog/like and give a little comment if you want <3 it keeps fics alive.

[wholoveseggs]

Kinktober - {Day Sixteen} {<- kinktober masterlist}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List} {Kinktober}

{Elijah Mikaelson x F!Reader} Request {@sweetieseven}:How about Elijah with a mirror sex kink? With dom/sub? The reader is an innocent girl with zero experience and still virgin. She and Elijah just know each other for at least a month... Can you make it like Bridgerton themed please (1800 era). Thankkk youuuu ❤️❤️❤️, (greedy I know...)

♡♡♡ I adore this ideaa, I know Elijah absolutely THRIVED in the 17th century ♡♡♡

3.1k words - Kinks: soft!dom Elijah, mirror sex, inexperience, 1800s themed, reader is super innocent && arranged marriage...

It was the duty of a young woman to marry, to find a good husband and give him children. That's what your mother had taught you growing up. But it was never as easy as she made it out to be, for some men were cruel and others only wished to take a wife to get his hands on her inheritance. It was difficult for a young woman such as yourself to find a good husband.

But it seemed fate had finally dealt you a good hand. Your father had secured a match, one with a respected noble family.

He was a fine choice, all the ladies would agree, for Elijah Mikaelson was the most sought after bachelor in the city. He had charm and charisma and, from the rumors you had heard, was quite skilled in the art of pleasure.

But, this just made you more fearful, for you knew nothing of the marriage bed. Ladies would come to you with conflicting tales of how men would treat them, sometimes roughly, sometimes with the utmost care. How would he expect you to behave? It was as though everyone else knew a secret you were not privy to, and it frustrated you to no end.

And now, it was your wedding night, you stood before a full length mirror, gazing at your reflection as the servants fussed over you. They stripped off your gown, leaving you in only a corset and thin night dress. The air felt cool against your skin, a welcome feeling against your heated body.

"Pardon my boldness, my lady, but that husband of yours is quite a looker." A servant girl said, pulling the pins from your hair, letting the locks fall freely.

You blushed, thinking of him, his handsome features and strong build. The way he looked at you as you said your vows made you feel things you did not understand, things that made your body ache and your skin flush.

You nodded, fear making words hard to come by. The servant smiled and patted your shoulder, her voice reassuring. "Don't fret, my lady. The first time is always the most frightening. But, I have a feeling the two of you will enjoy yourselves tonight."

The other servants giggled, and you couldn't help the embarrassed squeak that left your lips. How many servants were aware of your inexperience? Did he know? You had been told by many that men preferred their wives to be chaste, to have no experience with other men. You were a pure maiden, untouched. Would that be enough?

"All finished, my lady." She said, smiling kindly as you looked back at yourself in the mirror.

"Thank you," You said softly, watching them snuff out most of the candles, casting the room in a dim glow.

"Goodnight, my lady."

"Goodnight," You responded, watching as they all exited, closing the door behind them.

You stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do. Should you get into bed? Or were you supposed to wait for him to arrive?

You settled on simply pacing around the room, too nervous to sit down. What was he going to do when he came in? Would he be gentle? You hoped so, the thought of him being rough was far too frightening to dwell on.

You thought back to when you were first introduced, only a few months ago. He had kissed your hand, his lips soft against the skin, but the look in his eyes was one of pure lust. It made you shudder to think of what was to come.

Your pacing stopped when you heard a soft knock at the door, the handle turning shortly after.

You stood rooted to the spot as he entered, shutting the door behind him. He looked even more handsome in the dim lighting, his dark hair perfectly styled, his face freshly shaven. He was no longer wearing his wedding suit, but a plain white shirt and dark trousers.

He walked slowly towards you, his eyes roaming over your figure, his lips pulling up in a smirk as he noticed your blush.

"Hello," he said softly, a hand reaching out to cup your cheek.

You swallowed, trying to formulate words, but they wouldn't come. He seemed to know this, his smirk widening as his thumb traced over your lips.

"This day has been quite long, hasn't it?" He said, his hand sliding down to hold your chin.

You nodded, the feeling of his touch making your heart flutter. His gaze was intense, sending heat throughout your body.

"Would you prefer to rest?" He asked, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

You blinked, shocked at his suggestion. You were his wife now, did he not want you? A terrible feeling of inadequacy washed over you.

"Is that what you wish, h-husband?" You asked, stuttering slightly.

He hummed, his eyes flicking down to your lips, then back up to your eyes. "Not at all, my darling. But I do not wish to frighten you. This is a new experience for you, is it not?"

You felt your cheeks heat up even more, a nod was all you could manage.

"Do not fret," He said, leaning down to brush his lips over yours. "I'll show you everything."

Your breath hitched as he pressed his lips to yours, his arms wrapping around your waist. The kiss was soft and sweet, but it ignited something within you, a need that was quickly becoming unbearable.

You gasped as he picked you up, carrying you towards the bed. You couldn't help but cling to him, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck. He chuckled at your reaction, laying you down gently on the bed, his hands going to the laces of your corset.

You felt a rush of fear as he began unlacing the garment, and your hands grabbed at his, stopping him. He looked at you, his brows furrowed.

"What is wrong, my dear?" He asked, his hands going to cup your cheeks.

"I... I don't know..." You whispered, your voice shaky. "I'm sorry, I-I just..."

He silenced you with a kiss, then he pulled you into his lap, your legs straddling his.

"Look," He said, pointing to the full-length mirror in the corner of the room.

You looked at the reflection, seeing the two of you. Your body was flush against his, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your hips. It made your breath hitch, seeing him touching you so intimately.

"We can see each other perfectly in the mirror," He said, his lips brushing over your jaw. "We can watch every single thing we do to one another."

His words overwhelmed you, and you buried your face in his neck, trying to hide your embarrassment. His fingers tilted your chin up, his eyes locking onto yours.

"You are so beautiful, my dear," He said, his lips meeting yours again. "I'm honored to have such a lovely wife."

His words caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach, and you couldn't help but smile, looking into his warm, brown eyes.

"Watch," he said, his hand sliding down your body, pulling the laces of your corset loose.

You watched his every movement, mesmerized by the sight of him. His hands were sure and gentle with the way they undid the garment and soon, he was sliding it off of you. You could see the hunger in his eyes as he gazed upon your bare breasts, your thin dress leaving nothing to the imagination.

"Beautiful," He whispered, his hands cupping your breasts, squeezing the soft flesh.

You gasped, the feeling of his hands on you, wetness forming between your thighs. Your nipples were stiff against the fabric, and he noticed, his thumbs teasing the peaks.

"Tell me, sweet wife, what do you know of pleasure?" He asked, his lips trailing kisses along your neck.

"N-not much," You said, shivering at his touch. "Only what the ladies have told me."

"I see," He said, a smirk on his lips. "And what have they told you?"

"It's.... not appropriate to say.." You said, blushing deeply.

He chuckled, his hands tugging at the strings of your nightdress, loosening it.

"Oh, but it's most appropriate for me to know." He said, lifting your arms and pulling the fabric up and over your head, leaving you completely exposed to him.

"Please, husband.." You whispered, feeling so vulnerable and bare.

"Tell me." He said, his hands caressing your breasts, his fingers teasing your nipples.

"I know you... put it in me... d-down there," You stuttered, his eyes drinking in your every expression. You couldn't look him in the eyes as you spoke, it was too embarrassing.

He chuckled, his hand slowly moving down your body, his fingertips ghosting along your stomach, stopping just before he reached the soft curls between your thighs.

"Is that all they told you?" He asked, his eyes locking onto yours.

"They said you were a good lover... t-that I would enjoy it.." You said, his smirk widening.

"Then I shall do my best to live up to such a reputation," He said, his fingers delving into the curls, it made you ache even more, a deep, burning need that only seemed to grow as he continued touching you.

His words sent a thrill through you, and you couldn't stop the moan that escaped your lips as he pushed a finger into you. It felt strange, a sort of foreign intrusion, but not painful.

"Look," he began, his finger curling inside of you. "See how easily I fit inside you? How wet you are for me?"

You glanced up at the mirror, watching his finger disappear inside of you. It was a sinful sight, one that made the ache grow stronger.

"A woman needs to be ready for her husband, just as he needs to be ready for her," He explained, his finger moving slowly in and out of you. "It will hurt otherwise."

"H-how does a man get ready?" You asked, biting your lip.

He smiled, his thumb finding a sensitive little spot, rubbing slow circles. It felt incredible, and you couldn't help but moan, your hips bucking involuntarily.

"For some, it's enough to just look at his wife, to see her beauty and know she is his. But, for others, it takes a little more." He said, his finger increasing in pace, his thumb matching the rhythm.

You had no idea how to make him ready, and the thought made your cheeks flush with shame. How could you be his wife if you didn't know such simple things?

He could see the distress on your face, and he pressed a kiss to your temple, his voice soothing.

"Just by seeing you like this, by touching you, I'm ready," He whispered, his lips brushing over yours.

You melted into the kiss, the warmth of his mouth and the skill of his tongue sending another wave of heat through your body. His fingers continued their work, bringing you closer and closer to some unknown edge.

"Are you close, my love?" He asked, his nose nuzzling yours.

"Close to what?" You asked, panting slightly.

"Close to your peak, to your pleasure," He said, a smirk on his lips. "Have the ladies told you about that, my darling?"

"No..." You said, a bit embarrassed that you didn't know.

"Watch, then," He said, nodding to the mirror.

You looked at the mirror, seeing the reflection of his hands on your body, the way his finger moved in and out of you. The way his eyes were glued to your face, taking in every little reaction.

He added a second finger, stretching you in the most delicious way, his thumb pressing down harder on that sensitive spot. It felt like fire was running through your veins, and you couldn't stop the moan from spilling from your lips.

"There we go, chase that feeling," He said, his eyes glinting.

His words and the pleasure they brought made you snap, and you fell over the edge, waves of pure bliss washing over you. It was indescribable, and you felt yourself clinging to him, burying your face in his neck.

You felt boneless, utterly spent, but the need had not faded. You wanted him, wanted more of his touch.

"That was exquisite, my darling," He said, kissing the top of your head. "I can't wait to see you fall apart on my cock."

His words were so lewd, so unlike anything you had ever heard before, but they filled you with a strange sort of excitement.

You sat up, your hands fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. He chuckled, helping you undress him. Once his chest was bare, you ran your hands over the smooth skin, his muscles flexing beneath your touch.

"Eager little wife," He said, smirking. "Just a small taste and now you're insatiable."

You giggled at his words, the ache still throbbing inside of you. His hands went to the laces of his trousers, and you watched as he freed his cock, his member thick and long. You couldn't help but marvel at the sight. You understood now what he meant by being ready, and the thought of him inside of you, filling you up, was intoxicating as it was terrifying.

He smiled at your expression, he took your hand and placed it on his cock. Your fingers wrapped around him, marveling at how soft his skin was.

"Does it hurt?" You asked, stroking his length slowly.

He hummed, his eyes closing as you touched him. "Not at all," He said, his hand wrapping around yours, guiding you to stroke him. "Just keep doing that."

You obeyed, watching as his breathing became heavier, his lips parted in pleasure. It was a wonderful sight, one that made the need grow even stronger.

"You feel nice," you whispered, biting your lip.

He grinned, his hand falling away from yours. "You feel better," He said, pulling your hips closer, grinding his cock against your wetness.

You moaned at the sensation, the tip of his manhood pressing against that sensitive spot he was touching before. He did it again and again, his movements slow and torturous.

"What happens now?" You asked, whimpering at his actions.

"Now," He began, lifting your hips, the tip of his cock teasing at your entrance. "I'm going to make you mine."

He pressed a kiss to your lips, then he lowered you down onto him, the head of his cock stretching you. It hurt and you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders.

"Shh, it's alright, my love," He said, his voice low and soothing. "Breathe, just breathe."

You did as he said, taking a few deep breaths and you felt the head hit your barrier. He paused for a moment, allowing you time to adjust. Then, he pushed deeper, breaking through the thin membrane.

You whimpered in pain, your face buried in his neck. It felt like a thousand needles stabbing at your flesh, but he was there, holding you close, whispering sweet words. He reached between you and rubbed slow circles over that good spot, the pleasure easing the pain.

"Are you alright?" He asked, kissing the top of your head.

You nodded, taking a few deep breaths, then lowered yourself all the way down, his cock sheathed inside you. You felt a new ache, a need for him to move, to feel him slide in and out of you. It was instinctual, like your body was coming alive for the first time.

He moved slowly at first, letting you adjust to the feeling, guiding your hips to move with his. It reminded you of dancing, there was a rhythm to it, a sense of intimacy.

You were grateful for the mirror, it allowed you to see every moment, every movement. The way his hands held your hips, the way the muscles in his arms flexed as he moved. He was beautiful, and you felt a surge of pride knowing he was yours.

The pain was gone, replaced by a new kind of pleasure, something deeper than his earlier touches. You were consumed by the need for him, your hands roaming over his skin, your lips brushing against his.

“Look at yourself,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “See how perfectly you fit around me?”

Your cheeks flushed with heat as you continued to watch. Your skin was glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, and the way your breasts bounced with each movement only heightened your arousal. You were caught somewhere between embarrassment and excitement, but the look in his eyes—filled with lust and admiration—made you feel powerful, desirable.

He chucked at your reaction, his hands squeezing your hips. He leaned forward, pushing you backwards so that your back was against the soft bedding, you gasped and giggled at the sudden change in position.

He looked down at you, a smile playing on his lips, he moved his hips slowly, drawing his cock almost all the way out of you, before thrusting back inside. You moaned, the sensation was incredible, sending waves of pleasure through your body with every stroke.

"You're mine now, my love," He murmured, his lips trailing along your jaw, his breath hot on your skin. "All mine."

You nodded, unable to form words, his name was all you could manage. He was in complete control, and you loved every moment of it. You felt yourself being driven closer and closer to the edge, your climax building inside of you. He seemed to sense it, his thumb finding that spot once more, stroking in time with his thrusts.

You felt something within you snap, like a kettle overflowing, the steam escaping into the air. The pleasure washed over you, a wave of ecstasy that left you gasping for breath, clutching his shoulders.

He smiled, his lips colliding with yours, his pace was faltering, his breathing becoming labored. You had never learned exactly what happens next, about how things end. Your body tensed, unsure of what would happen, but he continued moving, holding your heated body close to his.

He let out a groan, his thrusts growing faster, deeper. You gasped at his roughness, the intensity in his movements, skin slapping against skin.

Suddenly, he tensed, pressing himself deep inside you. There was an odd warmth, something foreign that spread throughout your body. But you didn't mind it, it felt right, almost comforting.

His hands cupped your cheeks, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath hot against your skin.

"Are you alright?" He asked, his voice a husky whisper.

You nodded, giving him a smile. "Yes, I'm fine," You replied, your fingers brushing his hair out of his face.

He rolled to his side, bringing you with him, you let out a soft little laugh as you snuggled into his warm embrace.

You lay there in silence, enjoying the closeness, the warmth of his skin against yours. It was a feeling you knew you would never tire of.

"Is it always like this? This... pleasure?" You asked, your curiosity getting the better of you.

He chucked, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"One can only hope."

{<- kinktober masterlist}

[moonstruck-poet]

Survive

Pairing - Carlos Sainz x wife!reader

Summary - Because of your job as a crime officer, a particularly dangerous mission has both you and your husband on the edge.

Warnings- none!

"Is everybody absolutely clear with the plan? No questions? Any doubts at all?" Your leader asked again, scanning the faces of each of his members.

"None sir," they replied in a chorus. Though their stance was full of confidence, nobody could miss the apprehension that was layered on their faces. The incessant thumping of their heart as it seemed to grow steadily louder.

"You have everything prepared?" Stephen asked you, his eyes focused on yours.

"Yes sir," you nodded firmly. "Everything is in order and we're just waiting for tomorrow". The other members murmured in agreement, their faces tensed yet strong.

"I haven't arranged and brought together my best crew for nothing," he smiled slightly. "Though I want this mission to be 100% successful, it is also equally important that all of you pay attention to yourselves too. No rash decisions, nothing that can impact your or your teammate's life".

"And also, thank you," he chuckled a little at their confused faces. "Don't look at me like that, I'm not a sadist," he replied and everyone laughed. "It's not easy and I'm glad to have all of you with me. Now all I want is for everybody to go home and spend the rest of your time with your families yeah?"

"We'll be alright," you spoke, not a quiver in your voice. "Everyone will be back here tomorrow, safe and sound. I promise you".

"Exactly why I chose you to lead the operation," Stephen muttered, pride filling his eyes as he looked back on just how much you had grown the past years. From rigorous training to complicated practicals, you had given your all to achieve this position and he couldn't think of anyone who had so much dedication for their job.

"We'll be okay," Jess, your software genius reassured with a grin and brought jer hand forward, palm up.

"Absolutely," the two boys, Chris and Elijah chorused with smirks and placed their hands on hers.

"No worries then, eh?" Stephan said good naturedly, loving the enthusiasm of the youngsters. "See you tomorrow then, all geared up and ready".

"Definitely," you nodded, finally placing your palm on the top, a fierce fire blazing in your eyes that was soon reflected in the others too.

====================================

The drive home was made in silence. No music playing on the radio, which was a testimony to the fact that your mind was unsettled.

And why wouldn't it be. You had a huge responsibility on your shoulders. Not only were you responsible for the success of the mission and bringing the abducted children home safely, but you also had to see to it that no casualties would occur.

And on the other hand there was the matter of discussing this with your husband, Carlos. He obviously wouldn't deny you from going, but his sensitive and loving side would be hurting.

You had to tell him very gently.

And you sighed, parking your black Aston Martin and making your way home. Your mind flicking through every possible outcome that may happen tomorrow and torturing you in the process.

You opened the door and were greeted by him sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone and the sight looked so cozy that you couldn't help the smile from adorning your lips.

"Hola amor," he greeted you immediately, sitting up and excitedly walking closer to pull you in his arms. You laughed, keeping your bag down and threading your fingers through his hair while breathing in his comforting scent.

"Hey," you whispered back, resting your head on his shoulder and squeezing him tighter, not wanting to pull away in the least.

"I see someone has missed me," he smiled lovingly and the two of you swayed, almost stumbling down and yet you made no effort to break the hug.

"I did," you finally lifted your head up with a grin and pressed your lips against his, catching him by surprise as your arms went around his neck. His palms instantly held onto your waist, fingers softly digging in the skin and he kissed you back, a small smile forming on his face.

"I missed you too, love," his hand cupped your cheek, gazing intently into your eyes. "Should we have dinner now? I'm starving".

Dinner was a quite chaotic chaotic affair as Carlos told you about the latest gossip roaming around in the F1 world making your eyes widen as he shared the most unexpected details. Without even knowing, your husband had managed to empty your mind of all the negative thoughts and the only thing running through your brain was when will Daniel reveal that he's been married to Max since ages.

"You want some ice cream? I got your favorite flavour too".

"Oh no thank you," you shook your head, your gaze trained on some random point as you zoned out.

"What's wrong, cariño?" Carlos, ever the observant picked up on your changed attitude quickly. He furrowed his eyebrows as he watched you sigh deeply and fiddle with your fingers.

"There's um- I want to talk to you," you stuttered slightly, not sure on how exactly to start this conversation while he nodded, sitting beside you and giving you his full attention.

When you didn't say anything he shifted closer, your knees brushing and he held your hand, rubbing soothing circles to steady your erratic breathing. "I'm right here".

"We have a mission tomorrow," you then got straight to the point. "It's about those children that I had told you about".

"Yeah I remember. So you'll be going tomorrow?"

"Yes, I have to lead it. It's- It's only a one day operation so I'll be back by night at the latest. But-"

"But?" He cut you off, his face shifting from relaxed to a tense expression. His heart started to take up its pace as he felt the quick rush of blood.

"It's dangerous," you broke it down gently, moving closer to him and enveloping his hand in yours.

"What do you mean dangerous?" He asked urgently, his eyes searching yours, mind racing with all types of conclusions that this mission might end on.

"Let's say it's a little risky," you answered, rubbing your thumb on the back of his hand. "And there is a small possibility of- of casualties," you frowned, not wanting to say it but he deserved to know the truth.

"Casualties," he repeated, staring ahead now and you could see the various scenarios being conjured. "You have to go?" He asked, voice beginning to shake as he grasped your hand tightly

"I'm leading it, amor," you addressed him softly watching as he buried his face in his hands, contemplating the entire thing as you bit your lip for his reaction.

"Nothing I say is gonna change your mind, right?"

You opted to not say anything, giving him an apologetic and downcast look making him mumble incomprehensibly as he grabbed you by the shoulder, pulling you against his chest. His arms completely enveloping you while he tried to swallow the lump hurting his throat.

"I can't- I don't want you to-" he broke off, inhaling sharply and trying to control himself.

"I'll be okay," you tried, burying your face deeper into his neck as a wave of emotions flooded in.

"You don't know that," he insisted, not wanting to be pessimistic but he couldn't help it. "You don't know what's going to happen there tomorrow".

"But I can hope for the best right?" You reasoned with a small smile and felt him nod a little. "I should have faith that everything will be okay".

"I'm worried for you," he said quietly, lips brushing against your ear and your heart ached on hearing the tremble in his voice.

"Oh baby," you simply tightened your hold around his torso, wanting to be as close as possible. "Honestly? I'm worried too. I'm so scared that something might go wrong, or that someone else will have to face the consequences of my decision".

Carlos pulled back on hearing that, his hands finding your cheeks as he wiped a lone tear that had escaped your stubborn hold. "You are the strongest and the bravest person I know, hermosa. Not everybody can say their wife captures criminals on weekends for fun".

You laughed at that, your heart feeling considerably lighter as you looked at his smiling face. You really lucked out didn't you? To have a husband like him? You had no idea of what you had done to even deserve having a person like him in your life, much less being married to him.

"What did I do to deserve you?" You questioned no one in particular and stared at him in adoration.

"Oh I have no idea but you must have done something incredible to have me as your best friend," he said seriously and you burst out laughing, enjoying his faux annoyance.

"Gracias," you mumbled after quietening, leaning your side sideways on his shoulder and he pulled you closer by one arm.

"Siempre cariño," his hand rubbed your arm, resting his head on yours and merely holding you close. Understanding that all you wanted was his company, to feel him against you, to know that he wasn't going anywhere that he was right there beside you.

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Despite your best intentions, the alarm rang, signalling 6 am and the start of a new day, one that you had tried to avoid.

Unwillingly your eyes fluttered open, staring at the dark ceiling for a moment before turning to your right and internally laughing at the mere centimetres of distance between yours and his face. His nose brushed against your neck as he scrunched it and you shifted slightly to properly look at him.

Couldn't help yourself from raising a gentle hand to rest on his cheek, watching him pout a little as he slept peacefully. His eyelashes shining white in the dark, catching the light of the moon outside. On your own, your lips leaned forward to kiss his forehead. You closed your own eyes, wanting to imprint this memory for the whole day.

And surprisingly enough you were quite calm, no trouble plaguing your mind as you watched your husband. A smile on your face as you realised he was probably the reason for your serenity.

Carlos wasn't too much of a heavy sleeper and you were trying really hard to resist but your control slipped as you gently began placing soft kisses on his face, scanning his every feature while doing so.

Taking a last, fond look, you got up from the bed and hurried off to take a shower and gear up.

You donned on a simple light blue shirt tucked into black pants and an easy braid to not feel any headaches throughout the day. You had just pulled on a black leather jacket when you heard your husband call for you.

"Cariño?" He mumbled, rubbing his eyes and squinting them as he tried to locate you, still drowsy from the early hours.

"Morning sleepyhead," you replied, smiling when he blindly extended an arm which was beckoning frantically for you to come closer. And as soon as you sat near him, he pulled you by the waist and laid his head on your lap.

"Morning," he grinned mischievously, eyes still closed as he snuggled up to you.

"Are you planning to trap me here, Mr Sainz?" You asked, trying to have an authoritative tone as your fingers combed through his wild hair.

"Yes I am. But I doubt it would be considered a trap if I'm just holding my wife, Mrs Sainz," he retorted cheekily and you laughed at his antics. You understanding that he was simply trying to lighten up your mood.

A calm silence settled over the couple and Carlos finally opened his eyes, turning his face to face you while still laying on your lap. "When do you have to leave?" He played with the ends of your braid.

"I've still got time," you answered and he nodded, grunting before getting up and stretching his arms. Your eyes darting down from his shoulders to his abdomen muscles that contracted with every move.

He saw you staring and smirked making you turn red immediately as you got up from the bed, possibly underestimating your husband's agility because that man was up in less than a second, grabbing your arm and twisting you around so you fell perfectly against his chest.

"Todos estos años y todavía puedo hacerte sonrojar?" He whispered, his voice teasing which obviously didn't help in calming your insides.

"Te has visto?" You raised an eyebrow, placing a hand on his bare chest as you brushed your lips against his, biting back a smile on hearing him inhale sharply.

And he merely gave you a look full of utter passion before kissing you deeply, one of his hands holding your hip firmly while the other being behind your head, holding you close. You both pulled away slightly breathless, cheeks flushed as you stared at each other before laughing at the pair of you being complete simps.

"I'll make you some coffee," he didn't take no for an answer and set to work, while you smiled appreciatively at him and picked up the newspaper.

Neither of you spoke until both of you had drained your mugs, the caffeine giving you a much needed boost as you felt your focus improve.

Your phone rang and it was Elijah, "Hey 'Lijah. Yes I'm all ready. Okay," you nodded as he shared some details with you. "Yeah I'll leave in 10. Alright see you soon. Yes thank you".

You started at the screen before releasing a deep breath and glancing at your husband whose eyes were fixed on the mug as he played around.

"Carlos," was all you managed to say before you were tackled in a warm hug.

"Oh god hermosa, I was trying to be normal but I can't stop the worry," he groaned, beating himself internally and you were quick to shake it off.

"Hey no," your arms held him tightly. "I'll be back before you know it, querido".

He nodded, regulating his senses and trying to focus on you, your scent, letting it be his anchor. "Por favor- por favor ten cuidado, mi amor".

"Sí.. Siempre".

You stayed like that, basking in his presence and enjoying him as he was.

"My phone will be on silent," you informed softly. "So don't worry if I don't reply. I'll text you when we're done".

He nodded looking down for a second before meeting your eyes, you saw those big brown eyes that you loved to death starting to water. But he quickly wiped them off, not wanting to add to your list of worries.

"Te quiero mucho, cariño," he whispered shakily, pressing his lips together and failing as a few tears escaped his hold.

And as expected you didn't waste a second before wiping them off, placing your hands on his cheeks and offering him a gorgeous smile, "Yo también te quiero, mi corazón".

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Thank you so much for reading! Part 2 will surely be out soon <3