#don’t let me do this again it’s miserable

[daisymbin]

second chance romance 12. "every song reminds me of you."

woozi gets writers block after his breakup with y/n and realizes how much color and life had when they were still together. he would do anything to get back together 🥺

why does this already sound so heartwrenching :(( thank you for requesting this, lovely!! 🤍

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check out my masterlist! // jihoon's m.list

second chance prompt #12: "every song reminds me of you."

jihoon had spent weeks staring at his keyboard, fingers hovering but never pressing. the notes he usually heard in his mind came in fragments—disconnected and hollow. every song he tried to write felt incomplete, as if missing the heart it used to have. as if missing you.

he sat in his studio late at night, frustration burning in his chest. “why can’t i just—” his voice cracked, and he slammed his hand against the desk.

the memory of your laugh, your voice humming along with his music, filled his mind. he swallowed hard. you had been his muse without him realizing.

“why didn’t i fight for you?” he muttered under his breath.

a knock at his studio door startled him.

“you’re still here,” seungcheol said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

“don’t start,” jihoon warned, leaning back in his chair.

“i wasn’t going to. i was just wondering how long you were planning to torture yourself.”

jihoon glared at him, but seungcheol didn’t flinch.

“you should talk to her,” seungcheol continued, arms crossed. “you’ve been miserable since the breakup, and it’s obvious she’s the reason you can’t write.”

“it’s not that simple,” jihoon snapped. “i hurt her, cheol. you don’t just come back from that.”

“it doesnt have to be this hard either. you don’t know unless you try. you always overthink, but this—this is different. just go. tell her how you feel.”

“and if she doesn’t want to see me?”

“then at least you’ll know you tried.”

jihoon clenched his jaw, his heart pounding as he weighed the possibility of facing you again. seungcheol’s words echoed in his mind long after his friend left, and eventually, he found himself standing outside your door.

the door creaked open, and your face appeared in the gap, your expression soft but full of unspoken emotion.

“hoonie jihoon?” you said his name like you couldn’t believe it, like you thought you might be dreaming.

his breath caught. “hi.” his voice was barely audible. “i… i know it’s late. i wasn’t sure if you’d even want to see me, but—” he faltered, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“what are you doing here?” you asked, your voice quiet, tinged with sadness.

“i don’t know how to say this,” he admitted, looking down at his feet. “but i couldn’t stay away anymore. i needed to see you.”

your lips parted, your eyes scanning his face for answers. “jihoon… it’s been months—”

“i can’t stop thinking about you,” he said, his voice breaking. “every song reminds me of you. every melody, every lyric… it’s all you.”

your lips trembled, tears forming in your eyes as you tried to keep your composure. “you can’t just show up like this after all this time. do you know how hard it’s been for me?”

“i know,” he said quickly, his own voice thick with emotion. “i know I don’t deserve another chance. i know i hurt you more than i can ever apologize for. but i’m a mess without you. i can’t write. i can’t think. everything in my life feels empty because you’re not there.”

you looked away, tears slipping down your cheeks. “why did you leave me, jihoon? you didn’t even fight for us.”

“i was scared,” he admitted, his voice shaking. “of how much you meant to me. of how much losing you would hurt. but i didn’t realize that losing you anyway would destroy me.”

you let out a shaky breath, your hands trembling as you wiped your face. “i don’t know if i can trust you again. you broke my heart.”

“i know,” he whispered, stepping closer but keeping a respectful distance. “but i’ll spend the rest of my life fix it if you let me. i’ll prove to you every single day how much you mean to me. just… give me a chance.”

you stared at him, his words sinking in, the raw desperation in his voice breaking down the walls you had built around your heart. he took a deep breath, his eyes glistening. “i don’t want to live without you anymore.

your tears fell freely now, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his voice. after a long moment, you nodded, the smallest movement, but it was enough.

jihoon’s shoulders sagged in relief, his eyes filling with tears. “thank you,” he whispered.

you stepped back to let him in, and as he crossed the threshold, he hesitated.

“i mean it,” he said, his voice trembling but steady. “i’ll spend every day showing you how much i love you. i won’t mess this up again.”

as you closed the door behind him, the weight of the past began to lift. it wouldn’t be easy, but in that moment, with jihoon standing in your home again, you felt the first flicker of hope.

and for jihoon, the music in his heart finally began to return.

[spiicii]

the og bloodline / bloodline property (part two)

jey uso / jimmy uso / roman reigns / solo sikoa / sami zayn x fem!reader  word count → 6.8k summary → sami zayn has proven himself an ally to the tribal chief. as a reward, he is invited to experience what no other outsider has experienced before: a taste of the bloodline’s property.  notes → definitely got carried away with this one, but i hope you think the wait was worth it! i tried not to play favorites, though i’m sure i failed miserably.  tags → multiple partners, possessive behavior, dom/sub dynamics, daddy kink, choking, begging, double penetration, vaginal sex, anal sex, creampie, hickies, some crying, overstimulation, lore accurate tribal chief (roman is not always nice to his cousins)

You pressed a small kiss beneath Roman’s jaw, feeling a small chuckle rumble in his chest at your touch. 

“What a sweet girl,” he cooed, pressing a kiss of his own against your temple. “Now be good for me and sit in Daddy’s lap while he gets some work done. Okay?” 

You nodded, letting out a contented sigh as he pulled you closer, cradled in his arms. You always felt so small when he held you like this, his massive arms encircling you, keeping you tucked against his muscular chest. You closed your eyes and let him hold you, his deep voice keeping you calm as he spoke with his family. You didn’t know what they were saying and you didn’t care, more than happy to stay curled up in the Tribal Chief’s arms. His perfect pet. 

“Excuse me, my Tribal Chief. Sami Zayn is outside.” Paul Heyman’s words had you opening your eyes, watching with interest as the Wiseman approached, his head bowed in deference. “He wishes to speak with you.” 

Roman waved one of his hands dismissively. “Fine, fine. Send him in.” 

Paul bowed his head again, already moving away to follow his master’s orders. You felt Jey move up behind you, no doubt already irritated by Sami’s arrival. You knew they didn't get along. 

“Why you gotta entertain that fool, uce?” Jey snapped, his voice tight. “You know he ain’t blood.” 

“It’s not your call to make, Jey.” The Tribal Chief’s words were firm and the Right Hand Man was quickly silenced. Although you couldn’t see him, you could already imagine the disapproving look on his face. 

When Paul Heyman re-entered with Sami Zayn trailing close behind, you couldn’t help but watch him in curiosity. He was taller than you thought he’d be, a happy smile already on his face before he’d even been acknowledged. He seemed excited, practically bouncing on his heels as he entered, rubbing his hands together as though he had big news to share. 

“Hey, Roman! I-”

He stopped mid-sentence as his eyes landed on you. It was clear he hadn’t been expecting you, his smile faltering as his brow furrowed in confusion. 

“Oh! Hello.” He seemed nervous all of a sudden, fidgeting with his hands as if he didn’t know what to do with them. “I’m sorry. I…I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Sami.” 

He stepped forward with his arm outstretched, as if to offer you a handshake, and you were quick to shrink away. The Tribal Chief didn’t have many rules, but you knew it would displease him to have any man outside of the Bloodline touch you. Solo and Jey seemed to agree, already moving forward protectively. 

“Aye aye aye, back the fuck up, uce,” Jey snarled, shoving Sami roughly in the chest to push him back. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” 

Sami was quick to raise his hands, as if he were surrendering. “Whoa, whoa, wait! My bad, dawg. My bad. I didn’t…I didn’t mean to…” 

“Yo, uce, chill.” Jimmy was quick to intervene, already placing himself between Sami and his brother. “It’s alright, man. Relax.” 

Jey’s face was a mask of anger as he stared back at Sami, his hands clenched at his sides as if he were resisting the urge to punch him. Jimmy put a hand on his shoulder. 

“Just relax, uce. It’s all good here.” 

“Yes, Jey. Relax.” The Tribal Chief’s voice was calm, but you could hear the warning behind his tone. “Sit down.” 

You saw Jey tighten his jaw, no doubt resisting the urge to mouth off, but you knew he wouldn’t dare. Not with Sami here. So instead he obeyed, slowly moving back to Roman’s side to take a seat, his eyes flashing with anger. 

Jimmy offered Sami a smile. “Don’t worry about him, man. You know how he is.” 

Sami let out a nervous laugh, shifting his weight from one to the other. It was clear he was trying not to stare at you, but he was failing miserably, his eyes continuing to wander to take in your small form curled up in the Tribal Chief’s lap. You didn’t mind meeting his gaze, taking him in with equal curiosity. 

“You’ll have to forgive my cousins, Sami.” Roman said, relaxing further into his chair as he pulled you closer. “They’re a little…protective.” 

Sami chuckled again, though it was clear he was uncomfortable. “Yeah. Yeah, I can see that.” 

Solo made a displeased noise but a wave from Roman’s hand quickly silenced him. 

“I don’t normally let anyone outside of the Bloodline even look at what belongs to me, but I’ll make an exception for you, Sami. After all you’ve done for this family, I think you deserve a reward.” 

Sami looked at Roman in confusion. “Reward?” 

Roman hummed in agreement, reaching up to cup your cheek with his large hand. His touch was warm and your eyelids fluttered, leaning into his touch. 

“Isn’t she pretty, Sami?” The Tribal Chief kissed your hair and you melted deeper into his arms, your cheeks heating up at his sweet words. “You can see why my cousins are so possessive of her, huh?” 

Sami looked like he wanted to say something, but he seemed unsure, his eyes flickering between you and Roman. 

“Come on, uce.“ Jimmy encouraged, clapping Sami on the back. "She’s pretty, ain’t she?” 

Sami met your eyes again and you offered him a bashful smile, nuzzling against the Tribal Chief’s neck in contentment. 

“Yeah,” Sami breathed, his eyes glued to you. “She is.” 

Roman chuckled, reaching around you to grab at your thigh, his grip possessive. “Come to our penthouse tonight then. Consider it a thank you for what you did for me last week with Drew McIntyre.” 

Sami seemed taken aback by his words, but not nearly as taken aback as Jey. 

“Are you fucking serious?” 

Jey’s anger didn’t surprise you, however his willingness to confront the Tribal Chief did, especially in front of an outsider like Sami. You felt Roman tense beneath you, his grip on your thigh tightening. You buried your face into Roman’s neck, letting out a small whimper. The last thing you wanted was for them to argue. Unfortunately, Jey was incapable of keeping his mouth shut. 

“He ain’t got no business touching what belongs to us. Uce, you can’t-”

“I can’t?” The Tribal Chief’s tone was dangerous and Jey instantly fell silent. You saw Jimmy cast an alarmed glance in his twin’s direction, but he didn’t dare interfere. He knew better. 

You felt Roman take a shuddering breath beneath you, his fingers clenching and unclenching on your thigh in an attempt to compose himself. You were grateful Jey didn’t speak again. 

“As I was saying,” Roman continued, muscles still tense beneath you. “You are invited to our penthouse tonight. Being allied with the Bloodline has its perks. Ones that I hope you’ll indulge in.” 

After a few tense moments, Roman slowly relaxed, letting out a long breath and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’ll see you tonight, Sami. The Wiseman will see you out.” 

Sami quickly stood, his eyes still flickering with worry between Roman and Jey, but he didn’t say anything. After one final handshake from Jimmy, Paul escorted him out, quickly shutting the door behind them. 

The room was silent now, the air tense. Nobody moved, but Roman’s breath was steady, his chest rising and falling calmly beneath you as he held you close. Jimmy looked worried, his leg bouncing in an uncharacteristic display of nervousness, while Solo remained stoic as ever, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared straight ahead. It was a long time before the Tribal Chief finally spoke. 

“Argue with me in front of an outsider again and I’ll grind your face into the mat like I did at Hell in a Cell. Do you understand?” 

The silence was deafening, but it wasn’t long before you heard Jey’s response, his voice quiet, “Yes, my Tribal Chief.” 

*****

“Do you wanna touch her, Sami?” The Tribal Chief’s voice was a low rumble, his grip on your neck tight as he pounded into you from behind. 

You whined in his hold, your back arched perfectly as he kept you speared on his cock. His large hand was firmly around your neck, though you were grateful for it, his touch keeping you grounded as you balanced on your knees atop the king mattress. 

You met Sami’s heated gaze and saw the barest trace of a blush tinting his cheeks, his lips parted as he let out small pants of air. 

“Yes.” You heard him breathe, his eyes never leaving yours. You saw that he had his hands clenched at his sides, almost as if he were resisting the urge to reach out and touch you without the Tribal Chief’s permission. 

Roman shifted the angle of his thrusts and heat shot up your spine, another whine spilling your lips as he aimed for that sensitive bundle of nerves inside of you. He chuckled, pressing a sweet kiss into your hair as he continued to assault your g-spot, his thrusts unfaltering. 

“I don’t blame you.” Roman’s tone was conversational, his voice steady despite the fact that he was balls deep and rock hard inside of you. “She looks so perfect like this, stuffed full of my cock and begging for more. She knows how to serve her Tribal Chief, don’t you, sweetheart?” 

You tried to find the words to respond but he dragged across your g-spot again and you almost screamed, the feeling so good that you felt like you could hardly breathe. 

“Such a good girl for me,” he cooed in your ear, his other hand grabbing one of your ass cheeks and kneading the soft flesh there. “You gonna come, pretty girl? Gonna come on your Daddy’s dick?” 

“Yes, please,” you gasped, the tension inside you threatening to snap. “Please, can I come, Daddy? Please?” 

“You beg so pretty for me, baby,” he moaned, his breath hot in your ear. His grip on your neck was so tight that you began to see black spots across your vision. “You can come.” 

The tension finally snapped and you shuddered in his hold, pleasure rolling through you as you clamped down on his dick. 

“Fuck!” He hissed, his hips beginning to stutter against yours. “Gonna fill you up, pretty girl.” 

With a few more violent thrusts he did, warmth spreading inside you at the feeling. You relaxed in his hold, his grip on your neck loosening as he finished. 

“Good girl,” he murmured, his hands gentle as he laid you back down on the mattress. “You alright, sweet girl?” 

You nodded, your brain still foggy from the pleasure he’d just given you. You heard him chuckle, his hand warm against your cheek. 

“You’re so good for your Tribal Chief, sweetheart.” he whispered, brushing a few stray hairs from your forehead. “You gonna be good for my Bloodline too? Gonna let them take care of you?” 

You pressed a kiss of your own to his cheek, a sign of life as your body recovered. “Yes, Daddy.” 

“Good girl.” He praised, motioning for Sami at the end of the bed. You watched as Sami approached, his eyes raking across your naked form, his knuckles blanched from how hard he had them clenched at his sides. 

“Come give her a kiss, Sami,” Roman said, already moving away to make room for him. “I think she deserves it.” 

You heard a noise of protest to your right and you looked over to meet Jey’s reproachful gaze, his mouth set to a frown. Sami hadn’t laid a hand on you once since he arrived, the line in the sand clear. His reward from the Tribal Chief was the privilege of seeing you like this, fucked out and used by his Bloodline, a privilege that no other outsider had been granted - not even Paul Heyman. To be granted the honor of even touching you was clearly not something that Jey was expecting, swiftly rising from his chair to approach the bed, his expression furious. 

The Tribal Chief quickly clocked the movement, a firm finger already pointed in his direction. “Don’t even think about it.” Roman snapped, his tone brokering no room for argument. “Sit your ass down and be grateful I’m even allowing you in here after the shit you pulled earlier.” 

Jey curled his lip, an angry retort on his lips before Jimmy moved forward and grabbed his arm, hissing into his ear. “What the hell you doin’? Let it go, uce. It ain’t worth it.” 

There was a beat of silence, the air tense as Jey clenched and unclenched his fists, his chest heaving as if he’d run a marathon. Jimmy continued to whisper furiously in his twin’s ear, tugging on his arm to urge him to sit back down. It took a few minutes, but Jey eventually obeyed, still staring daggers at Roman even as he took his seat, his jaw so tight it looked like it might snap in half. 

“That’s what I thought.” The Tribal Chief’s tone was smug. “I apologize, Sami. Some Right Hand Man, huh? I might be in the market for a new one if this one can’t do as he’s told.” 

A splotch of red dotted Jey’s cheeks, but he mercifully said nothing in return, his eyes simmering with anger as he glared at Roman. The Tribal Chief met his gaze evenly, his lips twisting into a smirk. 

“Well go on, Sami. Kiss her. I won’t ask again.” Roman’s impatience was beginning to bleed through his words, the smallest crack in his composed facade. Sami sensed it too, already moving quickly to your side, only stopping when he met your gaze. 

He seemed uncertain, his eyes flickering behind you to where Jey was sitting. You had no doubt that Jey was staring him down, but you didn’t turn around to look. Instead, you reached out your hand to Sami, tentatively brushing your fingers against his. He blinked, unwilling, or perhaps unable, to climb onto the bed, his eyes still wide as he stared down at you. 

You offered him a reassuring smile, sitting up to meet him. “It’s alright,” you murmured, taking his hand in yours and tugging gently to pull him closer. He followed you easily, his eyes never leaving yours. They were a pale blue, a stark contrast from the dark eyes of the rest of the Bloodline, his pupils blown wide with lust. You reached up and played with the hairs in his beard, watching with interest as his mouth parted, small puffs of breath falling from soft lips. 

You leaned forward and he met you halfway, your lips colliding with more force than you were expecting. You let out a surprised chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer, spreading your legs to make space for him. He followed you further onto the bed and you felt his erection press against your hip, his hands on either side of you as he explored deeper into your mouth. He tasted different than the others, perhaps a little sweeter, his lips almost softer than Jey’s. 

He shifted a knee up and pressed it against your core, causing you to gasp against his mouth. He applied more pressure, the fabric of his jeans quickly soaked from your wetness, some of the Tribal Chief’s seed still dribbling out from where he’d claimed you. You felt your hips cant forward to seek more friction, reaching up to tangle your fingers into his unruly hair. 

You were so lost in the feeling that you didn’t feel the bed dip, another body joining the two of you. Full lips were pressing against your neck, a large hand reaching around you to palm at one of your breasts. It didn’t take long for you to realize that it was Jimmy, his lips ghosting across the shell of your ear as he pressed himself against you. 

Sami released you, leaning back to watch Jimmy wrap his arms around you and pull you close, his teeth now grazing the delicate skin of your neck. Sami seemed hesitant now, his eyes flickering back and forth between the two of you, as if he expected to be dismissed. You offered him another smile, reaching out to tug gently on his beard. 

“Why’d you stop?” you hummed, looking up at him through your eyelashes. Sami visibly gulped, his eyes flickering to Jimmy, as if he were anticipating a fight. 

“Jimmy won’t bother you, Sami.” You heard the Tribal Chief say and you looked over to see that he had settled in his own chair, watching the scene unfold with interest. “He knows how to share.” 

Jimmy chuckled against your skin, his kisses full of teeth. “Sometimes.” 

You couldn’t help but smile, your eyes sparkling with humor as you met Sami’s gaze. “He’s just kidding,” you assured him, pulling him closer. “Kiss me again.” 

Sami quickly obliged, his persistent mouth on yours as Jimmy pressed more searing kisses to your neck and shoulders. It was normally Solo who would leave love bites and bruises across your delicate skin, but Jimmy was in a rare form tonight, his clever tongue licking and nipping wherever he could. His mouth was now latched to the underside of your jaw, a bruise blossoming beneath his lips. 

Sami’s kisses were becoming more desperate, his breath coming out in gasps, swallowing your moans as though he were a drowning man. He only made a sound of annoyance when Jimmy placed a calloused finger under your jaw and tore you away from Sami’s ministrations to claim your mouth for his own, your kiss wet and filthy. 

Sami’s erection pressed deeper into your hip and you moaned in response, wanting more than anything to be filled. Satisfied. 

“You’re welcome to stay, Sami,” The Tribal Chief interrupted, his voice low as he watched the three of you. “But you won’t fuck her. Not tonight. I don’t know if you’ve earned that yet.” 

Roman’s tone was light, but you could sense the seriousness behind his words. He’d already been more than generous, allowing Sami to taste what belonged only to the Bloodline. But he wouldn’t allow any more than a taste, not from any outsider, no matter how loyal they were to the Head of the Table. 

Sami’s brow furrowed at the Tribal Chief’s words and you could tell that he was frustrated, his hips stuttering against yours as he resisted the urge to grind against you. 

You looked over Sami’s shoulder and saw that the Tribal Chief’s eyes were narrowing, his patience already tested earlier by Jey’s outburst. “Sami. Come join me.” 

It was a warning. One that Sami was smart enough to hear. His hips stilled against yours, slowly climbing off of you and taking a seat in the chair closest to the bed. He adjusted himself before sitting down, clearly uncomfortable still in his jeans, but he didn’t complain, his eyes still heated as they met yours. 

Jimmy suckled another bruise behind your ear, his cock pressed thickly against your ass. You closed your eyes and relaxed in his arms, letting out a small whine as he twisted cruelly on one of your nipples. His breath was warm against your neck. “Want us both, sweetheart?” 

Always. 

“Yes, please.” You moaned, your pussy clenching around nothing, wanting more than anything to be filled up and used. Wanting only to serve.

“Good girl,” Jimmy purred, curling his fingers in your hair to pull you into a kiss. You felt his hands on your hips, already twisting your body around to face him. 

“Don’t.” Roman’s firm voice startled you, your eyes flying open in alarm to look at him. You quickly realized that he wasn’t speaking to you, his angry gaze focused on Jey instead. It took you a moment to understand that Jey had been making his way over to the bed, about to join you and his brother before the Tribal Chief had stopped him. 

The twins almost always fucked you together - it was just their way. They had a near telepathic ability to communicate, their movements always in sync, almost as if they were one person who had been blessed with two bodies. Roman had never interfered, allowing his Bloodline to use you as they saw fit, but tonight was different. His eyes were narrowed at Jey, making it clear that he would not be permitted to touch you tonight. 

The two men faced off as if they were about to fight, Roman’s face completely stoic as Jey’s lip curled again, his golden teeth flashing in the dim lighting of the room. Sami watched the scene unfold with a nervous expression, wringing his hands together as his gaze flickered between the Tribal Chief and the Right Hand Man. Jey took another step forward and you made a distressed noise, pressing your face into Jimmy’s neck, a silent plea to stop this. You hated it when they argued. 

Jimmy shushed you, pressing sweet kisses to your forehead to keep you calm. As always, he knew exactly what you needed. “It’s alright, pretty girl. They don’t mean it. Come on, guys. You’re killin’ the vibe. Stressin’ our girl out for no damn reason.” 

Roman’s eyes met yours and you saw them soften. He never wanted to upset you. Not if he could help it. He leaned back in his chair, motioning towards Solo, who had been a silent spectator for most of the night. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Solo and Jimmy will take care of you tonight. We won’t fight anymore. Will we, Jey?” 

Despite his efforts to keep the peace, you could hear the threat behind Roman’s words, his tone making it clear that he would not tolerate any further disobedience. Jey scowled, his lip still curled, but he thankfully didn’t argue. 

The bed dipped again as Solo joined, his eyes meeting yours with such intensity that you felt your knees weaken. As much as you enjoyed the attention from the twins, you always felt comforted by Solo’s presence. He didn’t participate every night, sometimes content to sit back and watch, his normally stoic facade giving nothing away. You were glad he was here now, your hand reaching out to him almost instinctively to urge him to come closer. 

He took your hand in his, his touch surprisingly gentle as he pressed a sweet kiss into your palm. You smiled at him, pulling him closer. He could be sweet when he wanted to be, despite his rough exterior. You knew he cared for you, his signs of affection small, but not unnoticed. You were pleased when he offered you a gentle kiss to your temple, another sign of his devotion to you. 

Still, you weren’t surprised when he quickly grabbed your arm, pulling you roughly from Jimmy’s grasp to manhandle you into the position he wanted. Solo might have his sweet moments, but he wasn’t one to fuck around. He knew what he wanted, and he took it. You tried to suppress a chuckle as you heard Jimmy grumble, clearly unhappy to not be calling the shots. Solo ignored him, already shoving his older brother roughly back down against the mattress. 

“Aye, yo, what the fuck, uce?” Jimmy protested, but he quickly silenced once he realized what was happening, watching with interest as Solo lifted you up to straddle Jimmy’s hips. You went easily, letting out a shaky breath as Jimmy’s erection nudged at your already slicked entrance. Jimmy looked up at you with a smirk, his hands already on your hips to keep you steady in his lap. 

“Bossy motherfucker,” Jimmy muttered, but there was no real heat behind his words, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he looked up at you. “Lift your hips, babygirl. Gonna fill that pretty pussy up.”  

You placed your hands on Jimmy’s tattooed chest, leaning up further and widening your legs to allow his tip to tease at your entrance. You shuddered as you took the first few inches, your toes curling at finally being filled. 

As you took more of Jimmy’s cock, you felt Solo move up behind you, his fingers threading into your hair as he pressed a searing bite under your jaw. Your eyelids fluttered at the feeling, bordering the line between pain and pleasure. You let out a gasp as he left a particularly vicious bite mark on your shoulder, yet another bruise to prove that you were claimed. Owned. 

“Solo’s gonna open you up, pretty girl,” Jimmy murmured as he leaned back, your eyes taking in the miles of golden muscle across his exposed chest. “Now be a good girl and sit on this dick.” 

You sank deeper onto his length, letting out a sharp gasp as your pussy stretched to accommodate him. Jimmy reached out and grabbed your chin, the grip punishing. “And what do you say?” 

Your eyelids fluttered and your pussy convulsed at his dominating words. Somehow, you managed to find the words. “Thank you, sir.” you whispered, watching Jimmy’s searing gaze twist into a smirk, his fingers tracing the shape of your lips. “Good girl.” 

When Solo’s fingers reached your ass, they were gentle, covered in lube as they slowly fingered you open. You felt your body instinctively tense at the intrusion, the walls of your pussy fluttering around Jimmy’s cock, causing him to let out a groan. 

You felt Solo’s other hand on your shoulder, his touch immediately causing you to still. “Just relax, pretty girl.” You heard Solo murmur, his voice grounding you. “I got you.” 

You let out a shuddering breath, forcing yourself to relax as his fingers explored deeper inside you. The feeling was always strange, but not unwelcome, pleasure already beginning to spread across your body like wildfire. 

Jimmy bottomed out and all the oxygen left your lungs. Your mouth fell open as you felt his tip knock against your cervix. God, he felt so big at this angle. You shivered as you felt his cock twitch inside you, Solo adding another finger as he worked to scissor you open. When Solo pushed a little deeper, you felt an embarrassing sound emit from your throat, so whiny and needy that Jimmy laughed. 

“Almost there, little girl,” Jimmy rumbled, his grip on your hips still tight. “You can take it.” 

With Jimmy’s cock now stuffed deep inside, pleasure beginning to curl at the base of your spine, there was only thing you wanted to do: move. 

You lifted your hips experimentally, whining as Solo’s grip on your shoulder tightened to keep you still. “Not yet.” Solo scolded, adding yet another finger. “Don’t be greedy.” 

You couldn’t help by squirm in Jimmy’s lap, but you forced yourself to obey, the burn of Solo’s fingers a good reminder that if he didn’t take his time working you open he could hurt you. 

Eventually, Solo withdrew his fingers and you whimpered at the loss, your body already trembling with need. You weren’t sure how much longer you could wait, wanting more than anything to bounce on Jimmy’s cock until you saw stars. 

Movement out of the corner of your eye had you turning your head, watching as Jey paced beside the bed. His face was twisted in a mixture of anger and lust, his gaze occasionally flickering over to where Roman sat, almost as if he were pleading with the Tribal Chief to rescind his orders and allow him to join you. 

You wanted to reach out to him. Wanted to pull him close and kiss away those ugly feelings until he smiled again. Would Roman be mad if you did that? Although you belonged to the Tribal Chief, he was normally powerless to deny you anything. Seeing Jey stalk the length of the room like a caged animal had something aching in your chest, but then Solo’s lubed-up cock nudged against your empty hole and all thoughts flew from your head. 

You hadn’t realized that you were shaking so much, though whether it was from excitement or nervousness you weren’t sure. Jimmy seemed to take pity on you. “Come here, babygirl,” he murmured, sitting up to wrap his arms around you, taking the weight from your already aching knees. You leaned into him, your forehead falling into the crook of his neck. 

You let out a high-pitched keen as Solo continued to push deeper into you, the feeling growing more and more intense with every inch. Solo let out a low groan, his hand gripping your shoulder tightly. “Such a good girl,” he breathed, his hips stuttering as he resisted the urge to plunge deeper without giving you time to adjust. Jimmy shifted inside you and you felt his length graze against your g-spot, the feeling sending electric shocks up your spine as you clenched around him. 

“Fuck!” Jimmy hissed, his hands moving down and gripping your ass to spread you open for his brother. “Jesus, I’m not gonna be able to last if she keeps doing all that.” 

You barely heard him, the feeling of Solo’s cock splitting you open making your eyes roll back into your head, your own heartbeat in your ears. 

Another inch and you felt your knees buckle, but you didn’t fall - not with Jimmy’s hands on your ass and Solo’s hand on your shoulder. You felt your pussy spasm helplessly around Jimmy’s cock, the feeling making you want to crawl out of your skin with want. 

“Fu…fuck,” you babbled, your body tensing as Solo pushed deeper. “Too big.” You gasped, your hands scrabbling for purchase against Jimmy’s strong body. 

“You can take it, honey,” Jimmy crooned in your ear, his large hands keeping you speared on Solo’s cock. “Now be a good slut and relax for me.”

Your pussy contracted at his words, your mouth placing feverish kisses against Jimmy’s neck. Jimmy groaned, his cock twitching inside you as you began to lift your hips, still impatient despite the intensity of the feeling of two dicks inside you. 

“So tight,” Solo gasped, his grip on your shoulder becoming punishing. You whimpered at the feeling, leaning up to give a messy kiss to Jimmy’s mouth. With one final thrust, Solo was fully seated inside you, his body flush against yours. You froze, your muscles tense and toes curling. You let out a shuttering gasp against Jimmy’s lips and the look he gave you was positively sinful.

“She looks so fucked out, uce,” Jimmy breathed, one of his hands coming up to wipe the sweaty hair from your face. 

Solo leaned forward, his fingers under your jaw to turn your face towards him. Your mouth was open as you let out small, desperate pants, your eyes dazed when you met his. He chuckled, pressing a chaste kiss against your heated skin. 

When both of them moved at the same time, you felt your eyes cross. They fucked you together, not nearly as in sync as the twins normally did, but you found that you didn’t care. With each knock against your cervix your pussy constricted around Jimmy’s cock, making his hips stutter in response. 

“Fuck, your pussy is perfect,” Jimmy growled, his canines nipping against your neck. “So fucking tight.” He adjusted his thrusts and suddenly he was hitting your g-spot with devastating precision. You cried out, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes at just how good it felt. Solo let out a groan, his warm hand pressing between your shoulder blades, hips snapping faster as you continued to clench down on him. 

Jimmy’s hand was on your jaw, his breath coming out in shallow gasps. You met his dark eyes, eyelids fluttering, mesmerized by his gaze. The pleasure was becoming overwhelming, your body impossibly full, both holes stretched and abused by two members of the Tribal Chief’s Bloodline. It was all becoming too much. 

“Please, Daddy, please,” you begged, the pleasure threatening to push you over the edge. Solo’s hand wrapped your throat, his fingers pressing down hard enough to bruise. You arched your back, tight as a bow. “Please!” You cried, unwilling to finish without your Tribal Chief’s permission. 

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart.” Roman’s voice was closer than you realized, and you opened your eyes to see that he was standing beside the bed, his fingers reaching out to brush across your sweaty brow. “Beg me for it and I promise I’ll give it to you.” 

Jimmy’s thrusts began to falter and you knew he was close, your own orgasm just a hair's breadth away. “Please, Daddy,” you begged, your eyes crossing as Jimmy continued to pound into that sensitive bundle of nerves inside you. “Please, let me come. Please, please, please.” 

The Tribal Chief’s words were as sweet as honey. “Come for me, baby.” 

Pleasure ravaged your body, muscles jerking and your mouth parted in a silent scream. Your pussy spasmed and convulsed, milking Jimmy’s cock as he continued to slam into you, punching the air from your lungs. He was close, sweat dripping down his brow. 

“Jesus, fuck,” he swore, his mouth on your shoulder as he finally spilled inside you, the feeling warm and euphoric. 

Solo wasn’t far behind, his grip tightening around your throat. “What a good slut,” he snarled, smacking your ass so hard you groaned. His thrusts were becoming harder and more erratic, his grip on your throat so tight that you found yourself fighting for air. 

With one final thrust Solo spilled inside you too. You made a pitiful sound as he released your throat, your head falling into Jimmy’s shoulder. You forced yourself to focus on the feeling of Jimmy’s warm body beneath you, the only thing anchoring you to the earth as the aftershocks of your orgasm left you twitching. Your insides felt gooey, muscles still shaking as Jimmy held onto you, keeping you from collapsing. 

“Good girl,” Someone whispered in your ear, their voice sounding far away. “So sweet. So perfect.” 

You let out a whine as Solo pulled out, your hole clenching down on emptiness. You felt exposed and vulnerable, and he ran a soothing hand down your back, as if he were calming a frightened animal. “You’re okay, baby. We got you.” 

When Jimmy pulled out you felt your mind short-circuit, his load trickling down your inner thigh and onto his exposed stomach. You let out a breathy gasp at the feeling, your body still trembling in his arms. “Shhh,” Jimmy soothed, pressing sweet kisses to your forehead. “Just relax, honey. I gotchu.” 

They were gentle as they laid you down on the bed, their hands no longer grabbing to bruise, their mouths no longer seeking to bite. You let out a small sigh, your body aching and your holes still twitching and spasming from abuse. 

You tried to form a coherent thought, but you felt brain-dead, too drunk on cock to think. All you could do was lay there, babbling the only word you could think of: Jey. 

You repeated his name over and over again like a mantra, letting out a small sigh as you felt a warm hand against your cheek. The Tribal Chief pressed a kiss to your forehead, his touch gentle. 

“What do you need, pretty girl?” 

You made a distressed noise, your fingers reaching out towards nothing. “Jey.” You whispered, your eyelids fluttering. “Jey.” 

The Tribal Chief’s jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with anger. You reached out to grasp at Roman’s arm, your eyes pleading. 

“Please, Daddy,” you whispered, your voice hoarse from abuse. “Please.” 

Roman frowned, his expression displeased as he reached out to stroke your hair. You shivered beneath his touch, knowing that while he had never denied you anything you desired, you were asking for too much. It wasn’t your place to interfere with the Tribal Chief’s methods of keeping his Bloodline obedient, especially if he felt disrespected by his own Right Hand Man. 

Still, you couldn’t help but clutch at his arm, your eyes wet with tears. You needed Jey, the same way you needed all of them. 

The Tribal Chief’s gaze softened, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He let out an exasperated chuckle. “Greedy girl,” He was shaking his head, but he didn't look angry. He looked almost amused. “But you know I can’t ever say no to you, hm?” 

You couldn’t help but smile, nuzzling into his hand as he stroked your hair. 

The Tribal Chief pressed one final kiss to your cheek before standing up, his eyes flashing over to where Jey stood. His smile immediately dropped, his jaw now ticked in annoyance as he returned to his seat. He met Jey's questioning gaze with a frown, but he didn’t say anything. Thankfully, Jey understood that he was being given permission, no matter how begrudging it was, and he quickly stripped his shirt and climbed onto the bed before Roman changed his mind. 

You let out a contented sigh as Jey moved between your legs, his soft lips against yours instantly. His smell was in your nose, sandalwood and bergamot, already making you dizzy as you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer, comforted by his presence. 

“Why’d you do that, babygirl?” You heard Jey whisper in your ear, too low for anyone else to hear. You held onto him tightly, completely at ease now that he was with you. You weren’t sure you had an answer for him, so you leaned up to kiss him again, hoping that your actions could convey everything he made you feel. 

I want you. I need you. I love you. 

Jey seemed to understand. He always did. He smiled down at you, a burst of sunshine, before leaning down to return to your kiss, his arms wrapping around you to pull you closer. You reached up to tangle your fingers into the curls at the base of his neck, wanting desperately to taste every inch of him. 

His cock slipped into you easily, your cunt still soaking wet from your previous orgasms, his brother and cousin’s come still leaking out from where they’d claimed you earlier. He gasped at the feeling, his forehead pressed against yours as he felt your velvety walls spasm and contract around him. 

“So fuckin’ perfect,” he groaned, his hips already moving against yours. “My perfect girl.” 

The feeling of him inside you had you relaxing in his arms, each thrust of his hips sending you deeper and deeper into euphoria. Having him inside you was like coming up for air, all the tension bleeding from your muscles as he fucked into you. You melted into the mattress, your eyes fluttering as pleasure curled inside you. 

You’re more relaxed than you’d been all night, Jey’s perfect cock turning your brain into mush as you felt nothing but bliss. You felt him smile into the next kiss he gave you, his teeth grazing your bottom lip. 

“You feel good, baby?” His tone was almost teasing, as if he knew just how lost you were in the pleasure he was giving you, his treatment turning you into nothing more than a brain-dead cocksleeve. When his clever fingers found your clit, you thought you would vibrate out of your skin in ecstasy, your mouth falling open at the feeling. 

You felt him chuckle, his talented fingers so good against you that you felt tears spring into your eyes. 

“It’s alright, pretty girl,” he cooed, his words gentle despite the brutal snap of his hips, quickly picking up speed as he chased his own pleasure. “I gotchu. Gonna take care of you, mamas.” 

You felt helpless as your orgasm rapidly approached, your muscles trembling from how good he was fucking you. His long fingers began to pick up the pace against your clit, matching the fast rhythm of his hips. You weren’t sure how much longer you could last, heat tingling at the base of your spine. 

“Daddy,” You gasped, still coherent enough to remember to ask for permission. “Please, can I come?” 

There was no answer and you felt the tears begin to fall, your self-control already eroding away with each clever twist of Jey’s fingers. 

“Please, Daddy!” You cried, your orgasm so close that you weren’t sure if you could stop it now, even if you wanted to. “Please!” 

You sobbed in relief when you finally heard the Tribal Chief speak. “You can come, pretty girl.” 

The tension snapped. You were engulfed in never-ending pleasure, your pussy tightening and gushing around Jey’s cock as you came, your eyes rolling back into your head as bliss overtook you. You heard Jey swear at the feeling, your release triggering his own as he spilled inside you, painting your insides with his hot, sticky seed. 

Your muscles were shaking, overstimulation now causing Jey’s pleasure to border on pain. But none of it mattered. Despite the tears streaming down your face, you rolled your hips to milk his cock through both of your orgasms, desperate to please. Desperate to serve. 

[totallyjustabunchofhocuspocus]

Fic preview

A sneak peek of the next chapter of Come Away, O Human Child

It is loyal.

Whatever else can be said about it—and there is much—it has always been loyal. First to its cadre and home, the beautiful, sprawling nest and territory it had defended fiercely and freely for most of its life. When the cadre fell, when the nest was destroyed by awful, greedy humans who razed the land for their farms and villages and never once cared about the creatures and lesser fae who already lived there, it was loyal to the memory. To the graves of all the cadre that didn’t survive.

It spent years harassing the people responsible for the destruction of its nest. With the few members of its cadre that also survived, it made sure that no one who dared to build on the graves of ones it knew and loved knew a moment’s peace. They spent nights ripping crops out by the roots, undid latches on pens and coops and led wolves and coyotes in to feast, dropped waste and refuse into wells, tore out thatching from the roofs so they always leaked. Little things, little things, but added up it made humans miserable, made them angry, made them hurt.

It has never been a fool, and never was back then. Do too much and humans will retaliate, be too aggressive and they will hunt you. But its people have always known how to inflict death by a thousand cuts, how to be a source of grief and annoyance and pain. Just not enough.

Never enough to make up for what it lost.

It let its anger make it blind, it knows that now. Lost itself in its pain and spent so long wishing for real revenge that it lost sight of the most important rule in its whole, entire world: never trust the Fae.

It wishes it could blame youth and inexperience, but it was not young and inexperienced when the Fae passed through its territory. Its master hadn’t been posing as a lawyer when they first met; had called itself something other than Chase Mackey. But the smooth words had been the same. The slick, oily presence, the promises that sounded so wonderful to desperate ears. It has never been a fool, and never was back then…except that one time.

“Humans are so fragile when you get down to it. Easy enough for misfortune to turn into catastrophe. I don’t usually like to get involved in these things, but what can I say? The way they treat the lesser fae makes a lot of us angry. I’ll make you a deal—I’ll see to it that someone involved in the destruction of your nest is punished to your heart’s content. You can even pick the human! Decide who you hate the most. And all it’ll cost is ten years’ of service from you and your remaining cadre.”

He sounded so reasonable. So sympathetic. And it was so, so angry. All of them were so angry.

“Cost for more?” it had whispered, its wings trembling, its claws digging into newly tilled earth that had once been covered by bramble and thorns for their nest. It had stumbled over the words, unused to the language. The Fae had smiled.

“More? Well, that gets a bit trickier. Punished to your heart’s content leaves a lot of room for interpretation. Could draw a lot of attention to me, unless you’ll be satisfied with the same kind of petty revenge you’ve already been taking.”

It had dug its claws in deeper in the earth, looking back over its shoulder to gauge the reactions of what was left of its cadre.

“More,” it had said, after a long, measured look. “More.”

The Fae had smiled again, and it knows now that it should have heard the jaws of the trap closing in on it.

“I can make humans suffer until they don’t even remember what it was like to not be in pain. I can make them regret ever being born. I can make them beg for forgiveness until their throat bleeds. I’ll make sure every living person who destroyed your cadre does so, if you swear me your service until I have no more use for you.”

It would never be caught by such an obvious ploy now. But back then it hadn’t really understood the language that well and hadn’t known to insist on the Fae conducting negotiations in its own tongue. Many lesser fae don’t really have a concept of just how short-lived humans can be, and the passage of time tends to mean little to those who measure their lives in centuries. It had known never to trust the Fae…but it had just been so angry. It wouldn’t be caught now, but it had been easy to catch then.

It agreed. They had all agreed.

Less than ten of the humans who had destroyed its nest had still been alive—so far advanced in age that most of them had simply dropped dead mere seconds into the punishment it had traded a lifetime of service for.

Because its master will always have use for it. It is nothing if not loyal. <

*

There is no point in feeling sympathy for the other creatures its master traps in his poisonous deals.

It knows some of the others do, the distance and time (so, so much time) from the deaths of their cadre allowing them to let go of the anger and spite that had fueled them for so long. The most it ever really allows itself to feel is a kind of tired kinship—the creatures, humans, and lesser fae that its master makes deals with are often just as angry, just as grief stricken as it was once, and just as blinded as it was because of that. Even more often, though, they are just as greedy and selfish as the humans who destroyed its home, its cadre, and its life all those years ago. It doesn’t feel sympathy for them, and it can’t feel sympathy for the others.

The only exceptions are the changelings.

It didn’t know that its master dealt in the changeling curse when they met. If it had, things would have been very different. Even as blinded by its anger and pain as it had been, it knows it never would have trusted a creature who created changeling children. Its master sends it often to keep tabs on his changelings—to take stock of which ones might survive long enough for its master to harvest their power, and which ones are inevitably going to burn out like stars; to make sure the people in charge of their care are keeping up their end of the bargain; to make sure the changeling children are…developing…the way its master needs them to.

Sprites as a rule do not care for humans. It has particular reason to hate them. But even the human changeling children inspire pity in it. How terrible to be cast aside by your own cadre; to be seen as nothing more than a tool, something to be used and discarded. It cannot help but feel sorry for the changelings.

When its master sends it to the part of the country the humans call Pennsylvania to observe its master’s most ambitious investment, it is not sure what it’s going to find. The Buckley changeling probably has a better chance of living through his childhood than is usual, it’s true…but it doubts very much that its master is going to be able to leave the changeling’s power growing for the entire length of the contract. Thirty years? In a changeling bargain, that’s not just audacious, it’s madness.

It is perhaps expecting to find a changeling child with better control of the power that is growing unchecked in him. It has noticed that the younger the changeling children are bound to the bargain, the better they tend to do, and the Buckley child was bound before he was even conceived. So yes, better control. But it still thinks it will see the…cracks.

Changeling children are always such scrabbling, starving things. Searching so desperately for what their guardians by the very nature of the bargain have never given them. Privately, it thinks some part of the changelings knows that the magic inside them is wrong. Too wild. Too much. It has never seen one that doesn’t have a sort of hollow hunger in their eyes; doesn’t feel like a barely restrained forest fire to its senses. Breaking apart slowly, piece by piece, the power they never asked for slowly eating away at them.

Its master wants it to watch the child for an extended time. Observe his magic if it can, but most especially see what the dynamic with the sister is like. Its master’s changelings are almost always only children, for obvious reasons. Its master wants to know how much of an obstacle the sister might present. More than that, though, it is to try and determine how long the Buckley changeling might make it. Its master trusts its judgement in such matters after so many years. So many changelings.

Part of it hates that the trust is justified.

It scouts the neighborhood the child lives in for a few days before it settles in to actually spy. It is surprised to see signs of a cadre in the woods near the changeling child’s home…unusual for its kind to make a home so close to humans in this day and age. It has no right or reason to, but it cannot help the small pulse of hopeful excitement. It has been so long since it spoke with others of its kind who are not bound to its master. The ones who entered into the deal with the Fae along with it have long since ceased to be cadre, the bonds crumbling under the weight of what they have been forced to see and do, under the knowledge that it will never end.

It is…lonely. It has been for many years.

Modern cadres are so much smaller than what it remembers from when it was free. So much more isolated. If it can arrange to meet a few of the local cadre, they may allow it to take shelter with them. It hopes so, anyway. There are a surprising number of wisps, creatures, and lesser fae in the immediate area—more than it has seen in quite a long time. It never likes dealing with wisps. They tend to get hostile around it, sensing the tainted nature of its master’s magic.

It searches fruitlessly for the cadre of sprites for a few days before fate takes the matter out of its hands. It had not intended to allow the changeling child to see it. It never allows any of the changelings its master sends it to watch to see it. But when it feels the wild surge of the child’s magic one day, further out in the woods than it thinks children of the boy’s age are usually allowed to go, its curiosity gets the better of it. It means to just get a closer look.

But when it finally gets close to the child, several things are made immediately clear.

And everything it thought it knew about the risk its master is taking with this child is thrown into disarray.

[extremely-judgemental]

This is the last time I talk about Elain (hopefully!). I honestly don’t understand where you’re getting the idea that she is sweet. Elain is polite, like ‘my neighbour is nice to me’ sort of way. That doesn’t warrant how everyone puts her on a pedestal.

Her actions are mostly glossed over as self-preservation, but that doesn’t seem right to describe her behaviour either. At least, not in a sympathetic way. I'm sure there’s going to be an overload of trauma to justify this, because how can SJM’s heroines have mere mediocre problems when they can be abused or have lost a loved one?

I digress. Ever since Nesta’s grooming came to light, the same is assumed about Elain—that she’s groomed to be ‘nice’. That’s not entirely true. Their mother and grandmother focus on Nesta because getting the eldest married well will bring more prospects for the other two. In their mother’s words, Elain needn’t worry because she is a born beauty, and so she is not trained in courtliness or politics. And, Feyre has enough liberty to lock herself in their father’s office. As a middle child, Elain chooses the ‘nice’ mask because it’s what gets her attention in a family full of stubborn heads—her mother, her grandmother, her sisters.

During their poverty years, even if she could do chores, it’s hard to believe Nesta let her given how much she coddles Elain. And, Feyre treats her like a fragile doll. Elain essentially enjoys the best of both worlds like her father without contributing much to the family. She benefits heavily from her sisters’ animosity against each other—she’s the kind one while the other is the bitch. She’s also quick to secure a marriage alliance right after they regain their wealth. This isn’t to say it wasn’t out of love, but the plot is set in somewhat medieval times, where the order in which the sisters marry is crucial—Elain already wed before the eldest leaves a mark on Nesta’s reputation, making it difficult for her to find suitors.

Elain goes her entire life without being blamed or hated by her family, or even the IC. To have gone through all those struggles, having done literally nothing, and still cherished by everyone? Kindness doesn’t buy you that kind of a pass. It’s not her fault that everyone puts her first, but it’s the result of the image she actively cultivates to achieve her means.

This is why the paintbrushes don’t hold much value either. She doesn’t make Feyre’s life easier or take away some of the burdens, but gives her presents and everything is okay between them? This comes off like love-bombing to me—making Feyre feel special so that Elain isn’t the villain. Which worked, as Nesta is the one called ungrateful. When you’re struggling and someone offers you a bit of joy and relief, it is impactful, and Elain’s gesture could have been that if she had contributed to the family. But now, it comes off as manipulation.

And here’s my issue with her betrayal in Silver Flames. No one gives two fucks about what she thinks is best for Nesta. The IC won’t sit around and wait till she’s convinced. If she decides to lock herself in her room and cry again, only Feyre might care a little. Until then, she’s never included in any major decisions and she’s too perceptive to not notice this. She doesn’t even have to side with Nesta, but to pack her things to send her away?

She even goes on to throw in a ‘you don’t have to be miserable’ when Nesta is being imprisoned with a man. Imagine Elain trapped with Lucien to get her out of her funk. Feyre violated Lucien’s mind when he asked for a few minutes alone with her. They were chaperoned by the entire family for one simple tea. Clearly, Elain is not so stupid as to not know what she’s implying. She lets Nesta suffer not out of self-preservation but because she, like Feyre, believes Nesta is hopeless.

Later, she manipulates Nesta into scrying and insults her in front of everyone who hates her. She blames her ‘invisibility’—she crafted for herself—on others. It isn’t about her owning her life, because she could have done the scrying right away without that conversation with Nesta. And it’s not about protecting herself from the IC. Her outburst felt more like her resentment, that she couldn’t handle losing her shield.

There are many who want Elain to stand up to the IC, but the thing is, she has no reason to. When none of her actions are held against her, what would she fight for? The IC’s behaviour is borderline psychotic with Nesta to prove she wouldn’t be welcomed into the family unless she becomes reputable enough to be Feyre’s sister and Cassian’s mate. In Elain’s case, she is already forgiven and accepted.

Though it still falls under the broad term, her self-preservation carries heavy undertones of selfishness and manipulation. It is not even a survival response triggered under pressure. Most of her life, Elain never has to make big choices. She always gets what she wants without lifting a finger. No responsibility at home, more attention from family, the only one to receive her father’s love, her engagement to Graysen, going to Graysen for help, being left alone during the battles, having her own gardens in Velaris, learning to cook, leading a simple life, to be away from Lucien, pursuing Azriel. When exactly is she ever denied in the first place to preserve her happiness?

Also, Elain is definitely not a helpless doe. She is an opportunist. Her ‘kindness’ is a mask to escape scrutiny from others when she neglects her responsibilities. It serves her too since ‘Elain is Elain’.

And that’s fine because these flaws add layers to her character and there’s room for growth. But when the narrative ignores them and paints her as an angel because it supports the glorified hero, that is wrong. We see it happen with Feyre, Rhysand, and the Inner Circle. Elain is underdeveloped, yet she shows prominent traits at major plot points and still is considered ‘sweet’. At this rate, she’s just going to be another bland cutout who can never do anything wrong and is universally loved (like Feyre).

On the other hand, all this masking, the cunning, and the pettiness are great agents for her obvious future bonding with Rhysand who is quite similar. But her true nature has to be acknowledged first, which is clearly not happening in the narrative or the fandom.

There are obvious issues to be resolved in Elain’s character—shedding these traits and loving others without exploitation—but the focus will be on what SJM deems worthy for her plot. Elain went from being content to staying in the background, tending to her gardens, and creating beauty to wanting to step out of her sisters’ shadows. Though she never gave that vibe, it will be shoved down our throats because these leads need to be badasses. At this point, she has more chances of turning into another Feyre with her ‘coming out of the shell’ journey because that’s the only way women can grow in this series. I don’t like Elain the way I don’t like Feyre, Rhysand, or Cassian. She is, and will likely never be, held accountable for anything she does. Nesta has self-awareness, her flaws are portrayed as such, and she makes amends for her mistakes because that allows Feyre to be right again. But what reason does Elain have to be better when she hasn’t done anything wrong until now?

[sskzlover]

click

2.) stupid pictures

Y/N shoved the door to Room Two open, already bracing themselves for the worst. They knew exactly who they were working with today, and it had been eating at them all morning.

Seungmin stood near the window, scrolling through his phone. He looked up as they walked in, his expression unreadable at first. Then he smiled—a smug, infuriating smile that Y/N hadn’t missed one bit.

“Well, look who it is,” he said, slipping his phone into his pocket. “You actually showed up.”

“Of course I showed up,” Y/N snapped, walking past him to set their camera bag on the table. “It’s my job.”

“Must’ve been hard,” Seungmin said, leaning against the wall. “You know, taking a deal with someone you can’t stand.”

Y/N shot him a glare. “Horrible.”

“Good to know some things never change,” Seungmin said, his tone light but with an edge.

“Yeah, like your annoying attitude,” Y/N muttered, pulling out their camera and fiddling with the settings. “Can we just get started?”

Seungmin shrugged and pushed off the wall, strolling over to the backdrop. “You’re the boss.”

“Finally, something we agree on,” Y/N said under their breath.

“What was that?” he asked, tilting his head.

“Nothing,” Y/N replied sharply. “Just stand there and try not to make this harder than it has to be.”

Seungmin chuckled. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m great at this. You just focus on keeping up.”

Y/N gritted their teeth and raised the camera. “Face forward. Shoulders relaxed.”

“Anything else, Captain?”

“Yeah. Shut up,” Y/N snapped.

Seungmin smirked but followed the instructions.

The first few shots went smoothly enough—at least, until Seungmin opened his mouth again.

“You know,” he said as Y/N adjusted the angle of the lights, “it’s kind of funny seeing you like this. All bossy and professional.”

Y/N rolled their eyes. “I’ve always been professional.”

“Sure,” Seungmin said, crossing his arms. “But it’s still weird. You’re so… serious now. It’s almost boring.”

“Maybe I’m serious because I actually care about my work,” Y/N shot back, aiming the camera at him. “Unlike you, who probably just stands around and lets everyone else do all the work.”

Seungmin raised an eyebrow. “I don’t just stand around.”

“Right. You also talk too much,” Y/N muttered.

Seungmin laughed, leaning forward slightly. “Admit it, you missed me.”

Y/N lowered the camera and stared at him. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said, his grin widening. “I mean, it’s been, what, five years? You must’ve thought about me at least once.”

Y/N let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, I thought about how great it was not having to deal with you.”

Seungmin’s grin faltered. “Ouch. That’s harsh, even for you.”

“Don’t act like you’re surprised,” Y/N said, adjusting the camera strap on their shoulder. “You were awful back then.”

“You weren’t exactly a saint either,” Seungmin replied, his voice losing some of its teasing edge.

“At least I didn’t go out of my way to make people’s lives miserable,” Y/N fired back.

“Are you serious right now?” Seungmin said, stepping closer. “You were just as bad as me, if not worse.”

“How was I worse?” Y/N demanded, crossing their arms.

“You always had to be the smartest, the best at everything. You never let anyone have a win,” Seungmin said, his tone sharp.

“That’s rich coming from you,” Y/N said, their voice rising. “You couldn’t handle it when someone didn’t kiss your ass.”

Seungmin’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

“You know what?” Y/N finally said, slinging their camera bag over their shoulder. “I’m not doing this. Find someone else to take your stupid photos.”

Seungmin reached out as they turned to leave. “Y/N, wait—”

“Why?” they snapped, spinning back around. “So you can keep acting like a jerk and pretending like nothing’s changed?”

Seungmin hesitated, his hand dropping to his side. “I didn’t mean—”

“Save it,” Y/N interrupted, their voice trembling with frustration. “I don’t care what you meant.”

They turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind them.

Seungmin stood there in the empty studio, running a hand through his hair and muttering a curse under his breath.

previous |~| masterlist |~| next

note: so sorry for the very long wait. i wonder whats gonna happen next.

taglist: @strrykais, @goldenmellow, @vegetablesarefuntables, @sincerely-sun, @ayyonoona

[more-than-tender-curiosity]

I know this line is about Nick being ‘tired of the drama’ and people sleeping around or whatever but considering it’s immediately followed by a ‘shot’ of Nick and Jay standing alone together on Daisy’s porch…

…it pains me to think of this being a momentary flight of who gives a fuck who I want to sleep with only to immediately be faced with the exact reason why he can’t be with who he wants to be with. I think it’s telling that we don’t get to be there for the ride over to Daisy’s that afternoon, nor do we even get to know if Jay drove them or if they drove separately, because either way, I have a feeling that whole drive over was spent, for Nick, settling back in to his miserable no-man’s-land of emotional non-commitment. And he settled there again in his defeated, cynical little hole for long enough that the next morning, when Jay said I suppose Daisy’ll call too, Nick was only able to pull himself up out of that miserable little pit to say, disillusioned, I suppose so. To turn around and call back from a safe distance, They’re a rotten crowd. (I can’t love you.) You’re worth the whole damn bunch put together. (But I do.) Thanks for breakfast. (I wish there were more mornings for us, just us.)

He told him he loved him but it was a little too late, because that moment of fuck it had passed and by the time it came back around—he was calling, and calling, and calling someone who would never leave the past, just like he always wanted.

Nick was so good at letting go. He did it all the time before he met Jay. And now this book is evidence that some people, some places, some moments of the past—will never let you go.

[rememberwren]

Johnny in the chair in SD getting a tattoo for the first time from Simon…getting Simon’s hands on him…it was rapturous. No wonder he was being a goofy lil guy. He was skying.

[darth-does-stuff]

ok everybody saying dan fucks is conrad’s dad you do you but for ME personally the fix will always be conrad’s dad because dan gives cool uncle vibes 1000000% percent more than the fix ever will. but we will both live our truth and we will both be happy 🤝

[wanderinghedgehog]

Okay, so Javert is dead. Time to do a line-by-line commentary/analysis of Javert’s Suicide in the musical with some book comparisons. Yippee!

“Who is this man?

What sort of devil is he?”

I think this line would feel more appropriate right after Valjean frees him at the barricade. This will begin a trend of Javert’s suicide being very focused on Valjean here. Also, in the book, this is the chapter where Javert compares Valjean to an angel, so it’s interesting that he is called a devil here instead.

“To have me caught in a trap

And choose to let me go free?”

This was Valjean’s choice. He didn’t really have much to gain from freeing Javert. In fact, it’s potentially detrimental to him. This is an act that you can’t see for anything but what it is, kindness.

“It was his hour at last

To put a seal on my fate,”

Javert truly believes that Valjean could have killed him. For an audience who is aware of Valjean’s nature, it’s a bit strange to imagine.

“Wipe out the past,

And watch me clean off the slate.”

Valjean literally gives you his address so you can arrest him. I don’t think he’s looking to just get away.

“All it would take was a flick of his knife.

Vengeance was his and he gave me back my life!”

He’s not happy to not be killed. It kinda ruined his day :(

“Damned if I'll live in the debt of a thief”

I don’t know if the musical gives this context really, but I interpret this line as a rejection of his changed opinion of Valjean. At this point in the book, he’s started referring to Valjean more respectfully. But here, he denies any semblance of that.

“Damned if I'll yield at the end of the chase”

This deserves a quote from the book. “Enormities such as this can happen and nobody should be punished? Jean Valjean, stronger than the entire social order, should be free and he, Javert, continue to eat the bread of the government!”

“I am the Law and the Law is not mocked”

This line will be relevant again later.

“I'll spit his pity right back in his face”

The oddest thing about this is Javert is meant to be pitiful. The book literally describes him this way, but in a moment when he is very sure of himself, when he goes to arrest Valjean in M-sur-M. Javert is pitiful because he is horribly wrong and oblivious, not because he is helpless. Valjean helping him when he is in need of help is not the sort of pity you’d expect to be shown to a man like Javert.

“There is nothing on earth that we share”

On the one hand, are you sure about that? On the other hand, this really speaks to how Javert’s worldview allows for two types of people: superiors and inferiors. When Valjean is seen as a criminal, he is nothing like Javert because Javert couldn’t possibly have something in common with a convict. oBvIOusLy. But when Valjean has proven he’s a good man, he is nothing like Javert because he’s better.

“It is either Valjean or Javert!”

I told y’all the “I am the Law” thing would come back. This is Javert’s ultimatum that he’s given himself. He must choose between Valjean (the reality of humanity) and himself (the reality of the law). He doesn’t give himself the option to become something other than the law.

“How can I now allow this man

To hold dominion over me?”

The musical speaks much more of debt than the book. In the book, Javert doesn’t worry about the debt he owes Valjean for saving him because he’s already been repaid. Javert showed him mercy in turn.

“This desperate man that I have hunted”

I think this is an oddly sympathetic way for him to talk about Valjean.

“He gave me my life. He gave me freedom.”

The key word here is “gave.” There was no trade or deal as Javert had initially assumed.

“I should have perished by his hand”

He was too willing to die then. That’s not noble sacrifice, buddy. You just don’t value your own life very much.

“It was his right.”

It was also his right to not kill you.

“It was my right to die as well.”

Time for another book quote. “To have called the other insurgents to his aid against Jean Valjean, to have forced them to shoot him, that would have been better.”

“Instead I live -- but live in hell.”

Yeah, I bet suddenly having to think about things when you’ve gone the rest of your life with your mind as blank as printer paper isn’t exactly a fun time.

“And my thoughts fly apart.”

Same

“Can this man be believed?”

Javert in the musical is much more confused than Javert in the book. In fact, in the book, sudden clarity is arguably part of the issue.

“Shall his sins be forgiven?

Shall his crimes be reprieved?”

I will once again refer you to the line “nearer angels than men.”

“And must I now begin to doubt,

Who never doubted all those years?”

This is my favorite line in the song. It’s similar to my favorite line from this chapter in the book, “to be granite and to doubt.” Both lines really express the scale of this emotion so well.

“My heart is stone and still it trembles.”

This reminds me of a misconception I’ve seen a lot. For whatever reason, some people think that Javert intends to be emotionless. I think that referring to his heart as stone is not to say that he doesn’t feel, but that he is unshakeable. Hence the line “and still it trembles.”

“The world I have known is lost in shadow.”

Well, what exactly is the world he has known? That seems to be a difference between the musical and the book. I’m sure a lot of other people have explained that difference better than I could.

“Is he from heaven or from hell?”

And another quote. “…this monster, this infamous angel, this hideous hero, who made him almost as indignant as astounded.”

“And does he know

That, granting me my life today,

This man has killed me even so?”

I’ve found that this song has trouble really communicating why Javert would want to kill himself, but this line brings up a certain sentiment from the book that I think explains it pretty simply. While it can’t be said that Javert had only one reason for committing suicide, the book does say, “He felt that he was emptied, useless, broken off from his past life, destitute, dissolved. Authority was dead in him. He had no further reason for being.” He kinda thinks of himself as already dead.

“I am reaching but I fall”

Despite the fact that this song already had the same melody as Valjean’s Soliloquy as well as some similar lyrics, this is where I notice this parallel the most, at the moment when the two narratives really begin to differ. In Valjean’s Soliloquy, this verse is where he talks about the death of his former self and how this will allow him to start again. This verse is far more literal in Javert’s Suicide. He does not intend to start again and redeem himself.

“And the stars are black and cold”

Stars callback! Yippee!

“As I stare into the void”

Another line shared with Valjean. It’s really interesting to hear these shared lines sung so differently in the same show.

“Of a world that cannot hold”

I think I like this line for a similar reason as “and must I now begin to doubt.” I’d have trouble explaining it though.

“I'll escape now from that world”

Often, antagonists are given the chance to redeem themselves through death. Javert does not do this. He doesn’t ignore these revelations and be wrong knowingly, but he certainly doesn’t become a better person outside of his own head. By taking himself out of the equation, he has remained static, something he’s been doing his entire life.

“From the world of Jean Valjean.”

I’m not sure how I feel about this one. This isn’t Valjean’s world. Valjean just lives here.

“There is nowhere I can turn”

Not the line itself, but the music. Maybe the chaos of it does work well for the musical. I don’t know. But I always preferred the quiet of the scene in the book. You get so used to hearing his really noisy thoughts, but then he’s just some guy standing on a bridge in the middle of the night.

“There is no way to go on...”

I want a portrayal of this but that isn’t silly. This isn’t the line’s fault though. “There is no way to go on” had nothing to do with some of the goofy staging I’ve seen.

[granitxhka]

:(

[binders-and-beanies]

Doin bad again folx

[underwhelmingalchemist]

Starting pride month with the pharmacy denying me my testosterone prescription until mid-June and my doctor saying she can't do anything about it because it's a controlled substance 🙃✌️

[pepprs]

the mortifying ordeal of today being a potluck day.

[livvyofthelake]

came back from the library sitting in my car and i can see through the window my stupid roommate’s stupid boyfriend sitting in the kitchen. that man needs to be killed. literally get out of my houseeee!!!

[exopelagic]

I’m almost done complaining abt supervisors I swear

[fingertipsmp3]

No one really talks about how the first period you have after fully coming off birth control will absolutely fuck you up