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weirdmorefics · 1 month

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Can you make a fic where the Bridgerton sister gets high or drunk, and Colin and Benedict try to get her out of trouble???

A/N- Yes I can! I love this idea especially since I am the little sister with an overprotective big sister.

Readers' Pronouns- She/her

Word Count- 1292

Summary- Reader sneaks a few too many drinks at Daphne's debut ball.

An Average Bridgerton Ball

"Can this ball get any more dreadful," Eloise groans.

Benedict points to Daphne, "That is going to be you soon so I'd say these events soon will get even more dreadful."

Mother approaches the pair and worriedly asks, "Has anyone seen Y/n? I don't want her to miss Daphne's debut! I am sure she is going to be crowned the diamond of the season the way the queen has been eyeing all night!"

"I do not know Mama, we are not her keepers," Eloise moans.

"I do not envy any man who wishes to court you," Violet's face tightens but Eloise pays no attention to the reaction and Benedict stifles a laugh. "Let me know if you see her, I'll be with Daphne and Anthony," she sighs and walks away.

Shortly after Penelope joins the pair of siblings dragging a giggling Y/n behind her.

"Y/n you must regale to us what is so humorous," Benedict looks at Y/n bemused.

"I regret to inform you but I don't think Y/n even knows why she is laughing," Penelope frowns. "You have to get her out of here before she ends up the headline of Lady Whistledowns next piece."

Colin arrives at the tail end of Penelope's sentence, "Mother wanted me to help you two look for Y/n but it seems you two beat me to the punch... oh my god. Is she sloshed?"

"It appears so," Benedict's smile grows.

"Well, this ball just got a lot more entertaining," Eloise smirks.

"Sloshed, is such a funny word," she giggles. "We should get sloshed more so we can say sloshed all the time," Y/n slurs. "Next round of drinks on me!"

"Y/n sweetie, it's an open bar," Penelope treats her like a child.

"One she clearly made good use of," Benedict raises his glass in awe. "My little sister is growing up."

"I am so grown, you are so right," she slurs. "Mother she doesn't see that, she thinks I'm so immature," she whines. "It's always be more like Daphne, men like well-spoken girls and well-rounded girls, not girls who spend all their days in the horse's stables," she mimics their mother's voice. Y/n points her hand to the sky in declaration, "I'll show her, I'll gather more suitors tonight than Daphne will the entire season."

"I do not think sober Y/n would agree with that decision," Colin rationalizes.

"Sober Y/n is no fun, she lets Mother walk all over her," Y/n frowns. "Sober Y/n needs to learn a lesson or two from Eloise and not care what Mother thinks, but she needed some liquid courage."

"Why is drunk Y/n talking in the third person," Eloise smiles.

"Dissociation my darling sister," she squishes Eloise's face as Eloise rolls her eyes. "You should try it sometime. Like right now I am going to tell Mama that I wish not to be married but horseride competitively and I am not even nervous."

Y/n turns to walk away but drunkenly stumbles nearly falling to the floor.

Benedict luckily catches her arm before she face plants onto the floor, "I have to say I am quite fond of drunk Y/n."

"Well, I am certainly not! Anthony will kill us if he sees Y/n in this state," Colin says worriedly.

"Oh, I do hope so!," Y/n smiles. "Drinks and a show would be fabulous!"

"You've had enough drinks for a lifetime," Colin groans.

"As much as I hate to admit this, Colin is right Anthony and Mother will kill us if they see Y/n in this state. Pen is also right if Lady Whistledown gets wind of this we will never hear the end of it and will be held prisoner in the house until we are to be wed," Eloise frowns.

Colin and Benedict shiver at the idea of being grounded to the house. Y/n is completely unaffected by the conversation and her eyes follow the appetizer plates the servants walk around with. She tries to walk away yet again from her siblings to indulge in the variety of savory foods but is tugged back to Benedict's side with a grunt.

Colin sighs, "There's no way we can get out of here with her without causing a scene. I mean look at her," he gestures to Y/n who is currently trying to see how loud she can belch.

Penelope smiles, "I may have an idea."

"Yes, Pen for the win! I will always be superior in smarts and friends," Eloise quips.

Colin groans, "Now is not the time Eloise. What's the plan Pen?"

"Men can never resist a damsel in distress-" she is quickly cut off by Eloise.

"No Pen where is this going?"

She sighs, "As I was saying men can't resist a damsel in distress and your sister is about to be crowned diamond which makes you a jewel yourself Eloise." Eloise groans in response but Penelope continues on in stride, " Just do some light swooning on the dance floor and the suitors will come flocking."

"Maybe being trapped in the house with Mama forever is better," she grimaces.

"No, no, no. Eloise just think of all those forced piano and etiquette lessons with Mother permanently on loop," Benedict annunciates.

Eloise takes a deep breath and looks Y/n straight in the eyes, "Sober Y/n owes me big time!"

"She makes no promises," Y/n giggles.

Eloise sighs enters the crowd of dancers and makes a big show of fanning herself and loudly announces that she feels very faint. Men of course flock to her offering her a hand or handkerchiefs to fan herself with.

"She is oddly very good at that," Benedict admires.

Colin rolls his eyes, "Come on help me get Y/n out of here she is a lot stronger than she looks."

"I want to watch the show," she whines making herself as heavy as possible as Colin tries to drag her by the arm.

Benedict laughs and throws her over his shoulders since everyone is too busy watching Eloise be uncharacteristically charming.

Y/n kicks her feet wildly, "You are no fun!"

"I pride myself on being the most fun sibling actually but it seems you are taking the crown right now I do think that hangover in the morning will make you give the crown back though," he smiles wickedly and Y/n huffs in response.

"Less bickering more escaping," Colin chastises.

"He's definitely never the fun sibling, " Y/n shakes her head.

Colin growls, "At least I got you out of the ball unnoticed."

"Hate to break it to you but that was all Penelope," Benedict smirks as he sets Y/n down.

Colin rolls his eyes for the millionth time that night but is interrupted by Y/n running off.

"Look pretty flowers," she swoons.

"Man she is fast," Benedict watches.

"Aren't you going to catch her!" Colin points.

"I carried her out here," he defends.

Colin sighs and has to chase Y/n around the garden for a good ten minutes until they successfully push her into the carriage. She passes out shortly after getting into the carriage.

"Well that was certainly one way to perk up tonight's boring ball," Benedict smiles.

Colin shakes his head still out of breath from chasing her around the garden, "You are carrying in the house."

"Am I now? Care to wager? How about an arm wrestle match?" Benedict bargains

"You're on!" Colin says determined. He of course loses the first round and declares best of three and still loses...

Safe to say, Eloise, Colin, and Benedict got their revenge on Y/n by making her torturous hangover ten times worse.

#bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton request #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x sister reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton siblings

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golvio · 11 months

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i dont really know how to word it, but ganondorfs speech after his rehydration about reshaping the world, crushing opposition, as a king does. i just went "oh so like rauru but hes being more honest and less nice about it."

Yeah, like...the story's mostly uncritical nationalism, but there are certain lines that stand out that I interpret as Ganondorf's existence being a natural consequence of Rauru taking power. Not just as plain, mundane secular politics, but as the universe trying to rebalance itself after Rauru's attempt to build a perfect world by suppressing things like monsters and the blood moon that were a natural part of the world but he nevertheless saw as undesirable.

Take Jerrin's line about the Horned Statue, for instance:

"As there is the Goddess of light, then it follows that she would have an opposite—the horned god. Like light and dark, one cannot exist without the other—their power manifests through the other's existence."

The Horned God wasn't originally the opposite of Hylia. That role would be better suited by an entity like Demise. However, there's a certain implication that, in the absence of a competing counterforce, certain entities eventually emerged in response to Hylia's existence or were shaped by the consequences of her actions to occupy that niche. Jerrin's tone makes this process of opposition sound inevitable.

And then there's the Depths being a mirror image of the surface, a little like ALTTP's Dark World or ALBW's Lorule. The terrain of the Depths is an inverted version of the surface's terrain. The Lightroot names are even the names of the Shrines spelled backwards, and are in the exact same locations as their aboveground counterparts. As above, so below. And although the Depths were Ganondorf's prison, they eventually became his home and the metaphorical womb-of-the-earth where he could be nurtured back to health and reborn. As their ruler, he, too, is a mirror image of someone above: first Rauru, and later his descendants, culminating in the current Zelda.

As Rauru was the self-proclaimed King of Light, it would stand to reason that there would eventually be a King of Shadow who took charge over the things the King of Light refused to touch. Both the monsters and the blood moon, which IIRC existed well before Ganondorf took on the crown if Rauru and Mineru built the shrines to suppress them before the events of Zelda's memories, fall under the Demon King's dominion. And then there's that one theory that Ganondorf might be the Sage of Shadow, which made me literally say "oh shit" to myself because that was the one element that was missing from Rauru's stable of pals compared to the seven sages of Ocarina of Time. Of course Mr. Light-Must-Dominate-At-All-Times wouldn't want a Shadow guy around, even if they were an absolutely loyal secret-keeper and professional warcrimes-mess-cleaner-upper like Ocarina of Time's Impa.

But also...Rauru wasn't just "a king." The narrative presented him as the absolute monarch over the nation, literally sent by the gods to rule. He's elevated so far above "the common people" that even the leaders who aren't part of his Important Royal Bloodline are presented as faceless and subservient, always wearing masks in his and Zelda's presence and never giving their own names, as who they are isn't as important as their oath to serve the king. However, there cannot be absolute power without the capacity to abuse said power. No matter how "nice" the guy currently in charge is, systems of absolute divine-right monarchy are problematic by nature and inevitably create conflict. Ganondorf was the other side of the coin of absolute kingship, the uncomfortable truth lurking in the background, never outright said but always felt. It's kind of why a lot of our ancestors got together and agreed the whole "divine-right monarchy" thing wasn't a great idea.

#legend of zelda #loz thoughts #totk thoughts #totk spoilers #tears of the kingdom spoilers #rauru #ganondorf #maybe i'm too into elden ring's backstory to the point where i compare every open world game to it #but those are my personal thoughts on the matter

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gabessquishytum · 28 days

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An old Mitchell & Webb sketch gave me an idea for a King Dream / Unknowing Royal Sugar Babe Hob AU

King Dream is unabashedly throwing heart eyes to Himbo Nobleman Hob, but is so goddamn awkward and terrible at courtship that instead of talking to the man, he just grants Hob title after title, appointing him to all the high court positions and important council duties — this despite Hob barely knowing how to read, and frankly only being interested in drinking and swiving and fighting. Maester Lucienne finally arranges an intervention, gently imploring that, instead of appointing Hob to the positions of Royal Treasurer AND Keeper of the Seals AND in charge of infrastructure planning, the King could just… bed him already.

Genuinely obsessed with the King and Lucentio from that sketch, I hope they lived happily ever after tbh <3

ANYWAY. Hob is not enjoying his many many jobs!! He has to go away from the court constantly, and he's just bad at this stuff, and he never wanted to be anything more than a Lord. He hasn't had the time to compete in a tournament in ages, which sucks because that was his one opportunity to show off in front of the gorgeous, brilliant, incredible King Dream. Now the king just sees him stuttering through counsel meetings and fucking up the yearly budget.

He's convinced that he's for the chop when he gets summoned to the King's private chambers. Maybe all of this has been an elaborate prank and Hob is about to be the punchline. But. When he arrives, he finds the king lounging on his canopied bed, wearing only the crown and a very thin sheet.

The pieces connent slowly in Hob’s brain. All this time, Dream just... fancied him?

He throws off his ceremonial chain and robes and dives head-first onto the bed. He's missed out on MONTHS of swiving. He could have been laying around all day as the King's pretty bed warmer! No more time will be wasted - Hob is getting the royal cock in him, resigning his duties and taking up his official position in Dream’s bed.

Thank GOD for Lucienne!

#notallsandmen #the sandman #dreamling #nsft

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asumofwords · 1 year

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Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: The more I write, the more I wish that this man would snatch my ass up

Chapter 11: Godswood

You finished your dinner quietly with your parents, excusing yourself for a walk. You could feel the anxiety pouring off of your mother in waves, causing thick tension in the room.

You had sensed your father wished to be alone with her in order to calm her, and so you left them both, bidding them a good night. You did not miss the way your mother relaxed when Prince Daemon held both of her hands turning his body completely to her as you left.

You walked along the dark corridors lit by flames aimlessly. It was your first time out of your room in many days, and it felt good to not be confined in your chambers.

The evenings air was neither cool nor hot, but a perfect temperature so that you weren’t needing a cloak, or your dress to be something more lightweight. Though on occasion a small breeze would roll through the Keep, its icy tendrils caressing the skin that was bare.

As you walked, you let your thoughts run away from you. If your mother was right, Alicent was readying to question you and your brother's claim again, and a war would surely break out.

Yet, if your father was right, that means that King Viserys would keep you all safe. Though you could not rely on your Grandsire for long, his illness sadly starting to take him closer to meeting The Stranger.

In all your life you did not think that Alicent would ever question you, but your mother must have a good reason for doing so. If Rhaenyra’s claim to the throne was challenged, then Aegon would be crowned King, and that would surely doom all Seven Realms to be ruled by a drunken and violent fool. Your mothers supporters would need to advocate for her, and do it quickly. The thought of this made your stomach tie up in knots.

Your anxiety seemed to guide you to the Godswood, a place where you could feel at ease. You walked lightly towards the tree, brushing your hand gently against it. Leaning forward you pressed your forehead against the bark and exhaled a deep breath, asking it to take your worries from you.

You looked up through its branches and leaves to the night sky, stars glittering high above you, providing natural light alongside the moon. You prayed to the Old Gods, begging they protect your brothers and mother. Asking them to not let Alicent and the Hightower's win their war upon you.

Walking along the trunk you sat down in your favourite spot, curling your legs up towards you and resting your head against your knees. A headache began to form. You wished to be back on Dragon Stone away from this all. You longed to be on Sȳndor’s back, high above the ground feeling the wind rush past you.

He was the third largest dragon known, and one of the oldest. You had claimed him at a young age, singing the song your father Daemon had taught you. He resided on Dragon Stone and had kept to himself, the ever elusive pitch black shadow, hence his name.

Sȳndor had never been claimed before you nor ridden, but bonded with you quickly. The dragon keepers said you had a gift, but you believed that no-one had given him the respect he had deserved. He was large, almost the size of Vhagar and completely black. His eyes were like flames, and when he flew it was almost impossible to see him at night. The love you held for your dragon was not easily explained, he was you and you were him.

Leaning back against the wood you shut your eyes and breathed deeply. Thinking of Sȳndor had lightened your mood, and you felt your anxiety slowly drift away from you. You began to hum the song again, playing gently with the sleeve of your dress, the repetition calming your nerves.

You remembered as a child of how proud your father had been when you had bonded with Sȳndor. Daemon claiming your voice to have magic unknown to mortal men. A siren he said.

The hair on your arms raised as you felt eyes on you. That slimey feeling of being watched making your feet twinge. You had a visitor.

Not bothering to open your eyes, you called out to the darkness,

“I know you are there. I can feel you watching me.” You spoke calmly as if bored.

“Aōt vāedan, Hae mērot gierūli, Se hāros bartossi, Prūmȳsa sōvīli, Gevī dāerī” (To you I sing, As one we gather, And with three heads, We shall fly as we were destined, Beautifully, freely) A low timbre sang back.

Stepping out of the shadows your uncle moved into the light.

“A dragon's song. Tell me niece, who are you attempting to tame?” He drawled, eye dragging up your body.

Untucking your legs, you stretched them forwards leaning higher against the tree.

“There are no dragons here to tame, uncle.” You state, softly brushing your skirts down your legs.

“Here? Perhaps, but I can think of at least one.” His eye followed your movements, travelling slowly to your face.

“You’ve already claimed Vhagar, there are no others.” You spoke dully.

“I speak not of Vhagar. She was claimed a long time ago. But there are many dragons waiting to be tamed,” He hummed, “and claimed, but they’re out on Dragon Stone.”

He walked forward towards you keeping his distance, hands tucked neatly behind his back.

“Ah, then you must be referring to The Cannibal,” You tucked hair behind your ear, “you have so much in common.”

You knew you should not goad him, but it was too easy. everything about him made you want to lash out, cutting him with tiny blades. A death of a thousand cuts.

“And why is that zaldrītsos?” (little dragon), He pronounced slowly, taking another slow step forward.

Light cast across his face. He wore his patch and his hair was completely loose of braids, the front tucked behind his ears. He wore another set of dark black leather pants and vest, his coat firmly on his shoulders.

Tonight he did not have his sword with him.

“You are both monsters.” You said flatly, as if you were stating a mere fact, something that you had read in a book.

“Hmm. Because of my eye? Your brothers gifted me this.” You could see his anger begin to simmer.

“You mean to kill other dragons.” You rushed with anger, and with this you saw his lip curl up in a smirk.

“I don’t wish to kill any dragons,” He took another step closer this time, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he watched your face, eye flicking down to your lips then back up,

“but I may just devour you.” He finished, smirk travelling higher up his face.

You felt your heart beating against your ribs, the feeling of ice cold water running down your head and body. You breathed heavily, thinking of how to reply.

“Are you here to take my eye again?” You sarcastically spat at him. A full smile gracing his face.

Looking at his lips you realised you had never noticed just how sharp his teeth looked. Your mothers words echoed in your head.

“Hmm.” No reply, just his irritating hum.

“Are you just going to hum?" You sighed.

“Aōha laes iksis ȳgha, zaldrītsos” (Your eye is safe, little dragon) He replied flatly, his smirk slowly disappearing from his face.

“Pār skoros gaomagon jaelā hen nyke?” (Then what do you want from me?) You hissed, leaning forward.

“I am merely trying to spend time with my niece. It has been years after all,” He began, voice thick with false offence. The One-Eyed Prince stepped closer once more as he finished,

“and I have missed her.”

“You taunt me.”

“On the contrary niece, you taunt me. When have you met my questions with answers that did not mock?” He had you there.

“You have terrorised me and expect kindness? You call me bastard and expect smiles?”

“Have you met future suitors?” The change in conversation was abrupt and had your mind reeling.

“Suitors?”

“Yes,” Aemond replied, coming close enough that his shoes touched the edge of the tree's roots. The older man looked up into the branches, long neck stretching as his sharp face was illuminated by the moons glow.

“Suitors are men who come to-“

“I know what suitors are.” You snap,

“Gīda aōla, byka mēre,” (Calm yourself, little one,) The Prince tucked his head to look back down at you, his height towering over yours,

“You are of an age now where I believed suitors would be lined down Dragon Stone for the chance at your hand.” He scoffed.

“Whether I have or have not suitors is no concern of yours, uncle.” Your thread was fraying.

“T'was merely a question. My sister and brother having married already and your two younger brothers being betrothed, I assumed there was someone back at the Dragons Den waiting for you.”

It was your turn to scoff, arms coming to cross in front of you.

“Perhaps not a man then….” He trailed off.

“Neither a man nor a woman are waiting for me at home, uncle.” You sigh, perhaps this was Aemond trying to have a conversation after all. You truly did not know the man before you, his actions and motives were a mystery.

“Have you ever kissed a man, zaldrītsos?” (little dragon).

Huffing a breath you respond, “Have you?”

“Hmm.”

He looks down at your lips once more, tongue wetting his lips once more and leans into your space. Eye trailing over your body, his lip twitching as though he was to speak once more, but then leaning back he hums again.

You search his face, looking for answers for his sudden shift.

“Sleep well, Princess.” And with that he turned and walked back into the shadows.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Tag List:

@izzicle @ej-shitchats @may-machin @alegria1580 @witchy-jadda @videovampire @inkdelicious @queteimporta39 @virtualsweetsqueen

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utilitycaster · 10 days

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Sorry for the rant. I think the fact that they didn't wait until after the Candela finale was a missed opportunity that would have felt less, jarring 1. they could breathe and RP for a session after coming back from the moon reconnaissance mission (this is also considering that whether or not Matt made the party fight Otohan and have a PC death) Matt could have told them to end that particular session at Keyleth's camp and even tell Liam to wait and call Dorian at the end, and then have the party switch. it's also so strange to split the session in two for whatever reason

2. having the party switch after Candela would allow for a good window of time for the Crown keeper to do what they need to in case they can't reach a good point to return to BH in 2 hours, maybe a session and a half at most

3. assuming Dorian, and maybe others with him, come back to the group after whatever this intermission is done, i think it would be hard for them to split the attention between Keyleth encampment and debriefing - mourning FCG - guest players in a way that wont feel like it makes a disservice to another one of these topics (focusing on Guests and FCG's death could make it so the debriefing for the mission they spent 10+ episodes on feels lackluster, and vis versa)

As someone else said, it feels like they are giving us a palate cleanser as i was halfway through a good meal, but also they gave us another meal and after two bites they took it away so i could finish it in two weeks

there is also this limbo feeling of that we are getting late to the airport (freeing Predathos) but also we are taking a stop for sightseeing, and snacks, and bathroom and- it's like they are trying to convince us that "there is an urgency and we have to get there now now, but also nevermind that, lets catch up with these other characters for a bit"

It's just an ODD choice no matter how you look at it

So the urgency doesn't bother me. This was a weird thing in the fandom during the Solstice Split too (god i blocked so many people for constantly shrieking ARE THE OTHERS DEAD in the main tag every week, like no they are fine, they are narratively on pause) but like. Time is frozen for Bells Hells right now. We are following another group. We are not going to get snacks; we are looking in on what other people are doing, concurrently with this campaign. Indeed, that's not a bad idea. In a good campaign, there is this sense that the rest of the world exists and is doing things as you go about your own business - you are heroes of the story but you're not the only people who matter or do things.

It really is like. In some fantasy in which I were personally asked "hey, we want to do this thing where the Crown Keepers show up midway through the episode, and we follow them for that half an episode and then the beginning of the next episode, where would you put this?" I would, to be honest, say "maybe just do it as a standalone episode itself" but if I had to it would just be, again, Not Now. Cutting away while the party is on the moon! Cutting away while they're headed to the moon! Cutting away a week from now! Cutting away just before the Otohan fight! Hell, I even think that while I would have initially been far more annoyed if we started the episode and it was the Crown Keepers the whole way through this week, it would feel more coherent. But like, on a list of 20 places to insert the Crown Keepers scene, "halfway through an episode following a particularly dramatic and tragic character death" would be 21st.

(I also do want to push back against the idea that Sam needs more time and so this is why; you could just. run more episodes without him. Travis voluntarily sat out of almost 5 episodes. It took 2 episodes for Caduceus to show up. Team Wildemount had more episodes than Team Issylra. It is literally fine if he misses a few more episodes.)

#cr spoilers

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inconmess · 10 days

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Now that I have some time to collect my thoughts after the exam, here are some of the thoughts that have been running through my head.

Ashton is straight up not giving any shit about Liliana

Orym tries but it is really hard for him and I loved watching the two of them snap and not cut corners today.

Other than that, I loved Imogen's stance on Liliana on a technical standpoint, not trusting her but at the same time cooperating enough to try keep her on your side as an inside man? Genius.

Liliana is in too deep on the other hand, maybe not about the motives of the Vanguard but on the release of Predathos in itself. Like Ashton pointed out correctly, she is self delusional and if she doesn't remove those tinted glasses, she's gonna lose her daughter.

Also, what the fuck is wrong with her??? Leaving them all in the state they are in at a very likely active warzone and vanishing? Yeah, I suppose it took some power but she could at least ensure their safety??

Orym with Otohan's sword and storming off *chefs kiss*

Finally some emotional check-ins going on, clearning the air out. Though I am curious about Laudna and her comparing them all to being creations. I mean, in a sense, it is true I suppose...

Imogen is "destined" to release Predathos as it is a part of her.

Chetney was turned into a werewolf

FCG was literally built

Fearne was specifically made to be born on one of the Ruidian flares. And Fearne taking up the Shard also, I suppose.

Ashton was in a ritual which made them Earth Genasi and then later on were literally patchworked by Milo

Laudna was merged with Delailah and is technically kind of her vessel of sorts

I think Orym isn't the only one who wouldn't fit under the "creation of destiny" or "has been created" thing unless I am missing something...

Orym and Imogen's convo and how the two of them talk about family and his partial breakdown at the situation (I miss FCG too 😭)

And finally the sending and Orym's cry for help 😭😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 Someone give that man a hug?!!!

Speaking of Dorian, I love how the episode cut to the Crown Keepers after the sending and personally, it made sense for it to come at that particular point.

Listen, I would've loved to have some more time with the Bells Hells and their grieving but. But.

Orym, in his last message to Dorian (which he had received and is headed to Zephrah as a response btw) asked him to meet Keyleth, so chances are, at the time the Hells came back, Dorian is at least halfway, if not having reached Keyleth.

If that were to be the case, there is a high possibility that the Crown Keepers are with Keyleth when the Hells are meeting up with her. and narratively, there is some shit going on with the Crown Keepers that are still unaddressed and just can't be brushed off lightly.

Maybe, maybe Matt had been planning on introducing them much later in the episode. But Orym's sending also gave a perfect opening because Matt (or Robbie) cannot send a reply as Dorian without knowing the outcome of whatever is going down with the Crown Keepers, as seen in this episode.

Therefore, the sudden cutback to the Crown Keepers made total sense in a narrative manner because at this point, if Dorian is going to be actively involved henceforth, the Crown Keepers are dragging along. Opal and the Spider Queen influence what will happen in the future quite a lot more than I think many may expect because

a) Opal has personal ties with Orym and Fearne and

b) the way the Spider Queen is going about the fight, if something bad happens and if someone is hurt super bad, Orym and Fearne have to know too, just like Dorian needs to know about FCG.

and c) Well, most of the Crown Keepers are involved with the Gods. Fy'ra with the Wildmother, Morri with the Duskmaven and Dariax with the Observer.

And with the recent lore bomb pointing towards Aeor, I am pretty sure the hells are going to follow up on that just for FCG's sake (maybe even call in F.R.I.D.A for the ride, please call in F.R.I.D.A!)

I am pretty sure I am spiralling at this point but at the end... all I want to say is, I love the way the episode went and ended. I cannot wait to see more! If it airs on Tuesday or Thursday alongside the Crimson Mirror finale or the Thursday after that? I can wait patiently for that arc of the Crown Keepers to end cuz I am pretty sure at the end of it, at least 2 of the Keepers are going to join with the Hells and one is going to be Dorian. Mostly.

Apart from that, I am just gushing about how the battle went between Opal, Ted and Spider Queen vs the rest of the CK!

The crystal shard memories that are liable to corrupt or shatter? Opal being related to the Luxon shit? The sheer memories and the Spider Queen's insistence on Opal leaving or killing her friends and forcing her to make an option? So much drama! So much fun!

I might have to catch the 2nd rebroadcast to truly appreciated the second half but. But *chefs kiss* loved it today

I got introduced to C3 with the Crown Keepers and hell if I don't love those babies.

#critical role #critical role spoilers #cr spoilers #messy thots #long post #Yeah #I did will in my exam btw #crown keepers #crown keepers spoilers ig #orym #dorian storm #ashton greymoore #imogen temult #liliana temult

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your-enby-antihero · 11 days

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Crown keepers in the house!!! Love the sudden cast shift what a fun surprise. Sending all the “I support women’s wrong” to Aimee’s girl Opal. Dariax you beautiful himbo, Fy’ra and her everything (what a woman 🥰), Morrigan congrats on being the same title as a vorb, and Dorian my sweet sweet bard boy (boy-failure (affectionate)) how I have missed you. And the main cast killing it trying to make it through grief and dissing Lillianna like fucking gods!

#critical role #cr spoilers #cr3 e92 #bell’s hells #the crown keepers

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silentassassin21 · 11 days

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god i don't think i've realised how much i've missed the crown keepers. im being so serious when i say theyre the best cr party

#critical role #critical role spoilers #bells hells #bells hells spoilers

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hannahhook7744 · 5 months

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The Bad Apples!;

Band Poster I made based off of this and this.

Pictures I made.

Diego de Vil musician outfit board.

Album Cover:

The Bad Apple Songs (so far):

We're The Brunos.

You're Dead (To Me).

Don't Talk About The Dead Kids.

(Don't Talk About) The Isle Kids.

Wilted Petals.

Don’t Get Shot.

Rough House Rumble.

Where Are You, Peter Pan?

Who Made You King?

Where’s My Happy Ending?

Fuck Your Fairytale!

Bruised The Apple, Made It Rot.

What Did I Ever Do (To You?).

Wild Childs.

Bad Kids.

The Real Lost Kids.

Isle Life.

Santa Hates Isle Kids.

Afraid Of A Little Bad Luck.

LOl, Go to Hell.

Devil Child.

Bad, Bad Apples.

Monsters.

Cruella de Vil.

Kill the Beast.

Narcissus.

For All of You to See.

Whatever Happened to the Heroes.

(This Is Our) Swan Song.

Want You (Dead).

Under The Gloom.

Not Gonna Follow (Your Rules).

Never Gonna Be (Royalty).

Finders Keepers.

Got No Mom And Dad.

Don’t Choke.

The Crown.

For Real This Time.

Daddy (Mommy) Didn’t Love Me.

Poison Me Slowly.

A Warning To The Prophet.

It's A Brave New World.

Call Me Never.

Acid Trip.

Black And White.

We Will Fight To The Death!

I Hate You.

Smelling Flowers From Bellow.

Ain’t I A Rotter.

Saint Cyriacus (written to honor her brother of the same name).

God Help the Outcasts!

A Warning To The People.

Hellfire!

I Miss You.

Father, Why Have You Forsaken Me?

Not A Perfect Man, But A Good One (written by Claudine to honor her brother, Cesare).

Love is Love (Written to honor her brother, Cornel).

Bad Reputation.

Bow Before Me.

Respect Thy Name.

Veni, vidi, vici.

Alea iacta est.

Carpe diem.

Et tu, Brute?

If curious about any of the songs, lmk and I'll try to write a snippet of them. Thanks @panthera-tigris-venenata for the help coming up with the titles.

Also I headcanon that they do several different generes (Rock, Metal, Pop, Jazz, Blues, etc). Oh and that they have a band tattoo.

#descendants #disney descendants #melissa de la cruz #disney #descendants au #wicked world #disney descendants au #diego de vil #the bad apples #fake bands #claudine frollo #harriet hook #rick ratcliffe #clay clayton #ginny gothel #mad maddy #fan art #fan edits #etc

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johnwickb1tsch · 3 months

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The Night Nurse - Ch 9

A John Wick x Helen Fic

When nurse Helen Morgan is caught in the crossfire of a shootout and aids the injured John Wick, she’s faced with two options: serve the High Table, or be executed as a Witness. She tells herself her choice to work at the Continental has everything to do with survival, and excellent pay, and *not* her growing feelings for the Tall, Dark, and Handsome Assassin™ who got her into this mess in the first place, thank you very much. │ Masterlist / Chapter Map │

IX.

Helen made her way back to the guest bedroom, where John had placed her things. She had not mentioned it yet, but the sight of a massive bouquet of cheerful white Shasta daisies upon a side table swelled her heart to bursting. How had he managed it? She reasoned that he must have a house keeper to execute such things. The thought of him running after a house this size, vacuuming and dusting in between fulfilling contracts definitely made her grin.

She noticed his thoughtfulness had struck again in the bathroom, with artisan made soaps and bodywash that smelled like honey, rosemary, and looked like they had been extremely expensive. As she washed the grime of their lessons away she may have lingered a little extra long just to luxuriate a bit.

Not too long, though.

She was eager to get back to John, missing his company already.

She had it bad.

Maybe she should have kissed him earlier, when his arm had been wrapped around her waist like a band of steel. And yet, the older woman in her savored the slowly burning fuse between them, even if it was driving her a little mad. She knew from experience this was the sweetest part. The longing. The desire. The heavy looks and lingering touches. The honeymoon, as it were, when it seemed like the object of your devotion could do no wrong. She’d never been with anyone with whom that did not fade.

Maybe John would be the exception.

Maybe she really was losing her damn mind.

Fresh from the shower, she made her way to her bag. Maybe she’d exaggerated a little about the size of the first aid kit. There was a little something for everything within its confines; she liked to be prepared, and she felt like she’d packed just the right outfit for the moment. Maybe John would be so overcome by her beauty he would finally grab her up and kiss her—she snorted at the absurdity of the thought, even if, in the back of her mind, she kindled the hope.

John took a quick shower, careful of his new dressing, not wanting to displease Nurse Helen, although the thought of getting a rise out of her made the blood rush from his brain to a decidedly less helpful area. When she leveled him with that certain look…god. It made him want to grab her up and throw her down.

***

No, no, no, he scolded himself, looking down. Such thoughts were not helpful at all.

Maybe he would get a reward for being a good boy, and not wrecking the dressing.

The thought of that didn’t help either.

Exasperated with himself and his increasingly unhinged thoughts, he made his way to the kitchen, getting to work. He liked to cook. He found it relaxing, perhaps because he didn’t actually get the chance to do it all that often. Nights at home were a luxury in his business, and he intended to enjoy this one to the fullest.

He was prepping some asparagus crowns when Helen padded around the corner in a wide-necked ivory sweater dress that nearly cost him a finger. He paused in his chopping, his eyes all for her as she slid onto the stool across from him at the island.

“Can I do anything to help?” she asked with a sparkle in her eye that suggested she had an idea of what he was thinking as he looked at her. Little did he know, she was experiencing similar heart palpitations at the sight of him in his simple black button down, the open throat accenting the muscles of his chest to an utterly unfair advantage. Does he even know? she wondered. Somehow, she doubted it. Though he dressed well, he didn’t actually seem vain. Or if he was, he hid it better than any good-looking man she’d ever known.

“No,” John refused. “You’ve had a long day thanks to me. I insist you sit there, and look beautiful, and have a glass of wine if you would like one.”

She giggled at hearing that, propping her chin on her hand. “You’ve had a long day too, putting up with me.”

He started back on trimming the ends off of the asparagus, feeling that tell-tale heat blooming at his collar.

“I’ve had…a wonderful day, with you.” He looked up through his hair after he said it, dark-eyed and a little vulnerable. Helen felt her heart melt a little more for it.

“Me too,” she agreed quietly. “There’s never a dull moment with you, John.”

The corner of his mouth ticked. “I wouldn’t mind a few more dull moments. Or at least, quiet ones.”

“Are you...” She bit her lip. “Maybe I shouldn't ask you that.”

“You can ask me anything,” he told her, and meant it.

“Ok. Are you getting burnt out on your job?”

He tilted his head, really thinking about it. It was all he'd ever known. He'd never even considered quitting, until meeting this woman, and daring to dream about what a life could be like outside the Underworld.

“I've never actually liked my job,” he admitted. “But I never really had a choice either. Excelling at what I do was the only path to some semblance of freedom for me.”

“And do you have to keep doing it? Just, indefinitely, forever?”

He sighed. He was so in demand, for Viggo, and those the Bratva boss lent him out to, for the right price. He couldn't imagine them ever letting him retire, even to a quieter post like Charon or Winston enjoyed.

“I don't know,” he answered truthfully. The Impossible Task was a thing of legend among their kind. He'd never known of anyone who had come out from one alive. He'd considered it before, abstractly. Like something he might pursue when he finally needed one last challenge to cut the boredom.

That was before he had something to lose.

Pouring her a glass of red wine, he asked, “What about you? Is nursing what you've always wanted to do?”

Helen accepted the glass of wine with a grateful smile. “I've been a caretaker for as long as I can remember. It seemed like a natural step, and it was a life line for my sister and I. We left Boston as soon as we could. We lived in the shittiest little apartment in the Bronx while I went to school, and waited tables, and Eve worked in a coffee house and sold her art. God...those days. I can't say I miss them. I was so grateful for my first shift after graduation. It was the first time since my father passed that I felt some sense of stability in my life. I felt, almost, safe.”

“Almost?”

“Almost.”

John found he despised the thought of Helen not feeling secure. It made him want to do something insane, like offer to take care of her forever.

“Hmm. I am going to start the grill, and then you are going to tell me what you like to do when you're not taking care of everyone else around you.”

With a soft smile she watched him exit out the sliding glass doors to the patio beyond. She found that watching him doing the smallest things moved her. The poetry of his long-fingered hands, even when just chopping vegetables. Walking out a door. More preferably, walking towards her.

It felt alarmingly warm, and cozy.

It felt like... Oh no. Not yet. Leave that bastard of a four-letter word out for now. It only complicated things, unbearably so, in most cases. She just wanted to enjoy this, without jumping out of her skin, or thinking too much about the future.

It had always been her job to think about the future, and it was something that was hard to turn off.

When John returned, sliding the door closed behind him, he offered Helen a small smile that warmed her to her toes.

This man.

It really wasn’t fair.

She watched as he poured himself a glass of wine, inhaling deeply before taking a sip. “Is it alright?”

“It's wonderful,” she complimented. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure. Shouldn't be long on the grill. Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

As she looked at him across the island, she knew she wasn't just talking about food. She just couldn't stop herself from looking at him like something she wanted to eat. She couldn't tell if he knew it, too, but those soulful dark eyes staring into hers warmed her from her heart to her toes, and everything in between.

***

Helen sat at the head of the huge dining table, at John’s insistence. Rather than have a ridiculously removed meal with a league between them from opposite ends of the table, he set a place for himself to her right. She watched as he lit two taper candles in modern wrought iron sconces, smiling softly. “I’ve never had occasion to actually use these,” he confesses, and she wonders if that means he’d never had company here before?

John was a private man, and she supposed that just maybe it was possible.

The light outside the wall of windows was fading as night fell, and the candlelight lent a warm intimacy to the cavernous space around them. Half through her first glass of wine on an empty stomach, Helen was definitely feeling the glow.

Dinner was simple but delicious, the steaks grilled to perfection. She knew that she was perhaps reading into it more than she should, in her state of slight inebriation, but there was something rather primal about a man cooking a meal for a woman. It probably called back to vestigial memories of the hunter laying the kill of the day by the fire. I feed you. Maybe it was silly, but Helen couldn’t help but feel utterly cared for. It was refreshing, to say the least. She wasn’t sure she dared finish the rest of that archaic thought, but maybe in the back of her mind a little voice whispered the rest:

I feed you, because you are mine.

John’s foot bumped hers under the table. Sitting so close, it was inevitable their mutually long limbs would become tangled. “Sorry,” he apologized, and she simply smiled into her wine glass, pointedly placing her foot over his.

“It’s alright,” she answered, and the warmth in his eyes from across the table sent a thrill through her bones.

“So,” said John, clearing his throat. “You were going to tell me what you like to do in your free time, when you’re not keeping everyone around you from falling to pieces.”

She laughed softly, and the sparkle in her molten-sugar eyes was utterly melting. Wine, John thought. They were definitely going to need more wine.

With a shrug she answered, “I’m not…really that interesting, John. You already know I like to read. I draw a little. I like walking in the woods, and on the beach. Maybe visit the occasional museum. Sometimes I like movies, but usually they’re just too dumb to invest the time these days.” She’s quiet for a moment. “Honestly, most of my life, I’ve been too busy taking care of someone else to have serious hobbies.”

He frowned, thinking he would give her all the free time in the world, if she would let him. He wanted to think that was just the wine talking, but…it wasn’t. He absolutely knew it wasn’t.

“If you had all the time you wanted, what would you do?”

She pursed her lip, thinking about that, like it had never occurred to her that it could ever be a possibility. “You know, I took a printmaking class in college that I really liked. I always wished I could do that more, but…it takes room, and equipment, and it makes a big mess. But there was just something about the snap of pulling that first print after spending all the time on the prep work, drawing the design and carving the plate. No matter how well you tried to plan, there would always be some kind of surprise on the paper. Something unexpected and out of your control, but usually something beautiful. Like a happy cosmic mistake. I loved that.”

John stared at her as she described this, and for the umpteenth time that day, he thought she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. The subject of making art brought a light to her eyes that he found utterly addicting, and he wondered what it would take to outfit the other half of his binding workshop into a printmaking studio.

“When you make your first series of prints, I’ll bind them for you,” he offered, and she veritably glowed with the suggestion.

“That sounds amazing, John.” She leaned back in her chair, smiling across at him, seeming utterly content. “So how did you get into bookbinding?”

He shrugged a little. “I’ve always loved books. I didn’t get to have any formal schooling, really. They were my window to the outside world. I used to have to hide them, at the—” He almost said Theatre, but caught himself just barely. “At the place where I was trained.”

“Oh, John.” Helen reached across the table to him, sliding her fingers in his. He squeezed her hand appreciatively, grazing her knuckles with his thumb.

“It’s alright. When I was young I found this dogeared copy of Russian Fairy Tales by Afanasyev. It was old. I didn’t know it at the time, but it was actually rather valuable. I took it everywhere with me, all across the world, and over time the binding broke, the pages started falling out. After finishing a job and finally having a little money of my own, I took it to this bookshop to have it restored. The old man who owned it had this wonderful workshop. It smelled like leather and old parchment and glue, and for the first time since my mother was alive, I felt a sense of peace? I knew I wanted to learn how to save old books. To actually…create something, rather than just destroying all the time.”

He didn’t realize that his grip on Helen’s fingers had tightened, almost painfully so, until he’d finished speaking. He let up with a shaky sigh. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. Do you…”

“Go on.”

They had come too far, not to ask anything, now.

“Do you remember your mother?”

“A little,” he admitted. “Though more…a feeling, of being with her? I was very small. She would sing to me, and I remember being in her lap, and feeling like nothing could hurt me.” A bitter laugh escaped him. “How wrong I was.”

“She must have been an amazing woman, for your father to risk running away with her.”

John nodded pensively. The similarities in his own current situation had not escaped him. “Yes, I’m sure she was. But did he have the right, knowing the risk? Knowing the danger he put her in?” He could not mask the feeling behind these words; he knew they spoke in double meanings and of their parallel circumstances, and in a way he was asking her permission, and it was all so heady and terrifying he could hardly stand it.

How do people live like this, he marveled? Feeling so much, all the time?

“That’s a fair question,” agreed Helen, nodding. “But maybe more importantly, I think if you could ask her if he’d been worth the risk…if you had been worth the risk…I think I know what she would have said. I am certain she would have said yes.”

Her eyes met his, the candlelight reflecting in those caramel orbs almost rendering them gold, and it took every iota of self-control John possessed not to drag her into his lap. Instead he settled for pressing his lips to her knuckles, so grateful for this woman who brought such light into his life.

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Yes, you do,” she answered quietly. “And it’s not about who deserves what, anyway.” It was about two people who like each other, who understand the risks, and who make a decision to be together—or not. She didn’t say that part aloud. She hoped she didn’t need to.

A few moments more, and John managed to regain his composure, though he didn’t let go of Helen’s hand. When he found his voice again, it came rough with emotion.

“Would you like to see my books?”

She smiled, and it was like the sun from behind a cloud.

“Yes.”

#john wick #helen wick #john wick x helen #john wick fic #keanu reeves #john wick the night nurse

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lunarrolls · 9 months

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druidcraft + orym & fearne

this idea was in my head instantly and i’ve just been on vacation so i couldn’t write it for DAYS. but GOD i love fearne and orym. they’re my silly rabbits. their friendship is everything to me. so have some grade a feelings!

•

Druidcraft is a cantrip on the druid spell list. We all know what it does—it can do other stuff but those flowers man—they’re an rp killer.

•

Fearne misses Orym something fierce, and it’s really not fair. It’s not fair that they were separated after everything that had happened, it’s not fair that her prayers had gone unheard, it’s not fair that she can’t seem to hold onto her people in any substantial way, and it’s not fair that nobody seems to know what the hell is going on. It’s not fair that the sky is trying to rip Imogen from her arms, not fair that Laudna’s not here, and not fair that F.C.G. keeps running headlong at threats without Ashton there to watch their back. It’s not fair that Chetney has to face his past alone because Fearne certainly has no idea how to help him and couldn’t calm him down when he turned in the woods.

Also, Fearne’s flowers are dying.

She’d never learned how to make flowers like Orym could. He liked to say that he couldn’t do anything special, but Fearne couldn’t make flowers. She could try, sure, and if she tried hard enough, something would probably happen, but she can’t do it like Orym. Dorian was the one who first suggested her new hairstyle one night with the Crown Keepers, and after he’d left, Orym had kept weaving flowers and vines and honeysuckle through her horns, handing her belladonna when she needed it and thistles when she was mad.

And now, as she stares at her own face in Deanna’s lovely little house, she sees that the edges of Orym’s lovely petals are browning. Fearne doesn’t know how long it takes for flowers to decay, but usually Orym would help her daily, so it wouldn’t get close. But now, well, there’s no Orym, and all her flowers are askew.

She huffs, turning from the mirror, and resolves to ignore it. If she never sees Orym again, well—first, she’ll find whatever made that happen, murder them very harshly, and then she’ll cling to the shriveled carcasses of his flowers.

But it won’t come to that. Obviously. Because she won’t let it.

•

And, of course, the first thing Orym notices once they’re alone in the Spire by Fire is that her flowers are wilting. He smiles, that same halfling smile, the same lovable smile, even with the shadows under and behind his eyes, and leans in conspiratorially.

“Fearnie, you still haven’t figured it out?” Orym chides gently.

“I know how to do it, Orym,” Fearne says softly, “I just—I didn’t want to, without you. You—you do it better, okay? So—so you can’t leave again. Okay? I’d look like a mess. It’d be bad. Mister would start gnawing on my horns without any honeysuckle to snack on.”

“I know, Fearne,” Orym says. “I’m not leaving again. Not if I have anything to say about it. You deserve better.”

And ah. Well. Does she? Does anyone? Isn’t that just how this works, in this stupid dimension? People come into your life and change you and make you care and then they leave, unceremoniously and with ever-broken promises on their lips. At Nana’s, nothing ever changes. Her friends are always there. It’s always colorful and bright and fun.

Why is she still here? If they’re all gonna leave? Why?

And then Orym gently wipes her tears, already forming more vines of honeysuckle and mint sprigs because he knows they’re her favorite and always calm her down when she’s stressed, and she can’t help it. Of course this is why she’s still here. Because he’d miss her, and she’d miss him, and they’re together until the end of the line.

“I’m sorry,” Fearne says mildly, as if tears aren’t streaming down her face almost of their own accord, “I just… I missed you so much.”

“I know, Fearnie,” Orym says, climbing up to press his forehead against hers. He grips her hand tightly. “I’m so sorry we couldn’t be there. I missed you too. And you deserve us.”

“Can we change up my flowers?” Fearne asks. “I have new skirts now.”

“Of course, best friend,” Orym says, smiling brilliantly at her again. “Anything you need.”

“You should get some too, Orym,” Fearne says, trying to hide her damp face. “Color looks good on you.”

#cr #cr3 #fearne calloway #orym #roll performance #charisma save #spelling disasters #this is like. actual hurt comfort for once lmao #i adore them so dearly also i got a LOT of druidcraft prompts so they might spiral a bit

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thepalaceofmelanie · 3 months

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Martell Week- COTD: Oberyn Martell

Tag: @elvinaa @adriennegabriella @morby @candycanes19 @wingsoftheangels @tashastrange89

(A/N: Okay so we had a House Martell music task...well, I want to do that for just Oberyn. So the first ten are songs with my reasoning, while the last ten are certain lyrics that fit him without my reasoning. Plus, this helps me get a playlist for Oberyn started for use. Enjoy the ride! Also am working on Day 2 and 3, so hopefully I can get those done tonight.)

1- “Unholy (Japanese Version)” by: Shayne Orok, Curserino & Ali Orok

Reasoning: Alright, pick any version of Unholy; I don’t care if it’s the OG to a cover or whatever else, this version screams Oberyn. It’s slow and sensual and sexy, to say the least, I recommend this song for any smut/lemon playlist.

2- “Oberyn” by: Daenerys and Targaryens

Reasoning: Please, do yourself a favor! Go and listen to this song. It’s so fun and a bit funny but it’s about him! So enjoy fellow Oberyn fans.

3- “Letter To A Friend” by: Robert Gromotka and Chiharu Bley Violoncello

Reasoning: I feel this would be his theme song back in Dorne. More so when he’s in the Water Garden writing poems for his daughters. It’s just something that would make you think of him feeling calm for lack of a better term.

4- “Bow Down” by: I, Prevail

Reasoning: Basically, this song is could be his theme song when trying to avenge his Sister and her children. I did have this one down in the lyric area but switched it because, of how it just works more so as a whole.

5- “Crossing Over” by: Five Finger Death Punch

Reasoning: So, after watching the Bills game, I was trying to think what else to add and remember this old gem. This song is about loss and grieving and well, he lost Elia. Also you could use this song for Ellaria as well, when the second verse.

6- “Adrenalize” by: In This Moment

Reasoning: If I had to give Oberyn’s “infamous for his sexual appetite” as the wiki puts it, a theme song, it would be this. It’s hard, heavy and well a sex song.

7- “Tonight” by: Fozzy

Reasoning: “Then everyone is missing half the world’s pleasure. The gods made women… and it delights me. The gods made men… and it delights me. When it comes to war, I fight for Dorne. When it comes to love — I don’t choose sides.”

8- “One Of The Girls” by: Jennie Kim, Lily-Rose Depp, and The Weeknd

“We don't gotta be in love, no

I don't gotta be the one, no

I just wanna be one of your girls tonight

We don't gotta be in love, no

I don't gotta be the one, no

I just wanna be one of your girls tonight, oh”

9- “Emperor’s New Clothes” by: Panic! At The Disco

“I'm taking back the crown

I'm all dressed up and naked

I see what's mine and take it

(Finders keepers, losers weepers)”

10- “Love You To Death” by: Type O Negative

“In her place one hundred candles burning

As salty sweat drips from her breast

Her hips move and I can feel what they're saying, swaying

They say the beast inside of me is gonna get ya, get ya, get”

11- “Hangman” by: Rev Theory

“Take your places please

You’ll need to sit for this one

It’s a simple plan

With a mangled conclusion”

12- “Go Girl” by: Pitbull

“I party like a rockstar

Look like a movie star

Play like an all star

Fuck like a pornstar”

13- “The Whims of Fate -King Side” cover by: FamilyJules feat Kuraiinu

“Give into another vice

See where it might lead

Come on, let's just enjoy the spice

Life and feel so free

Give into temptation”

14- “So Far Away” by: Staind

“This is my life

Its not what it was before

All these feelings I've shared

And these are my dreams

That I'd never lived before

Somebody shake me

'Cause I

I must be sleeping”

15- “Young Gods” by: Hasley

“He says, "Ooh, baby girl, don't get cut on my edges

I'm the king of everything and oh, my tongue is a weapon

There's a light in the crack that's separating your thighs

And if you wanna go to heaven, you should fuck me tonight"”

#Martell Week #Oberyn Martell #Oberyn Martell playlist #Mel has a song for everything #chibi Oberyn approved

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trashcanplant · 4 months

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“I Missed You” - Antoni’s POV

For @cherrythepuppet

Mob AU by @clownsuu

Fuck. Antoni hated this. Ever since he’d joined the family, there’s been this ever present feeling that he was missing something. That and the boss wouldn’t stop staring at him. It made him feel uneasy in a way that the finest wines in the cellar wouldn’t fix. He found his work was starting to satisfy Wally less and less. It seemed that he had a favorite of his intimidators and hitmen. That god damned scarecrow was stealing his thunder.

One day, after a particularly disappointing mission on Antoni’s part that left him on Poppy’s table getting stitches in his arm, he saw Wally looking at him again wearing an all familiar eye. It was a seafoam green. It was Antoni’s.

“Are you busy?” Wally asked with his gentle monotone speech. It seemed to drag in Antoni’s mind as he saw his eye staring back at him. He looked at Poppy, who nervously finished her stitching and hopped off of her table. “No, why? What can I do for ya, boss?” He asked in return, throwing his shirt on overhead. Antoni felt unease as he put his jacket on, tied his bow tie, and placed his hat on his head. Wally wouldn’t stop staring at him.

“I have a job for you. Penny’s been good recently, so I’m rewarding her with a new gun. She needs bullets. .45 caliber. Go get them for me.” Before Wally even finished Antoni was saluting him. “I’m on the job! I promise, I won’t letcha down!” He said with his wide grin. The sea slug began to place his sharp crowns on top of rhinophores his to look intimidating. Before he could go racing out of the door, he felt a hand grab his shoulder.

“Not so fast, neighbor. There’s a second part. The shop keep, Dandy… she’s been less than cooperative recently. There’s a message we need to send. You’ll be perfect for the job. I can trust that you’ll do the most… won’t you, Toni?” Wally proposed, leaning in slightly as he grabbed Antoni’s cheek. He hated that nickname. He wasn’t called Antoni for nothing. Wally traced his fingers along the stitches on the sea slugs face.

“I won’t let you down.”

The walk to Dandy’s Candy was long. Not a far walk, but just far enough to be a pain in Antoni’s side without a car. He lost his car privileges when he drove out to Grover’s warehouse in the middle of the night to dull his blades. He played with the gun in his pocket, anxiously flicking the safety on and off with his thumb. As he approached the shop, the remembered the deal to ask for to see Dandy’s secret menu.

“Welcome to Dandy’s Candy! I’m Dandy and these are my candies! How may I help you today?” Asked the shop keeper. She was perky. Plump. Her long, seafoam green rhinofores wiggled slightly. She looked confused for a second as she looked at Antoni.

“I’d like the salt water taffy.” He said gruffly. He methodically fiddled with the gun in the pocket of his trench coat. A sinking feeling engulfed his being, starting in his chest as he looked at the woman. Something about her made him feel like himself. Like he wasn’t alone. He tried to dash the feeling.

“Ugh… doesn’t Wally ever do his own work anymore?” She asked with a groan, rolling up her sleeves. She made her way to the door, flipping it from its pink side that read Open to the green side that read Closed.

“Make it quick.” Antoni ordered with a growl. He looked at her from under his fedora.

“Follow me.” Dandy said, taking a key ring from the pocket of her apron. She walked to a small door behind the counter, unlocking it and motioning with her head for Antoni to follow him. He did. His steps were heavy on the stairs as the two sea slugs came down into a small shop. Some crates littered the place as well as glass shelves illuminated with special candies and drugs. Dandy placed herself behind a counter, looking at Antoni.

“Alright, what does Walls need this time?” She asked with a sigh. Antoni took a breath as he looked at the woman. She had the same nose as him.

“Ammunition.” He replied flatly. “Oh, let me guess, he gave Miss Penny a gun? Tch..”

“Get it over with, broad.” Antoni commanded harshly.

“Sorry- what caliber was that?” She asked, opening one of the glass shelves to look through the labeled boxes. Antoni watched as he gripped the gun just a bit tighter in his hand. “45.” He responded.

A sigh escaped Dandy’s mouth as she grabbed the box and set it on the counter. She slid it over to the mobster, looking at him for a second.

“Of course he’d give Penny that gun.. this should last two months, and if it doesn’t.. then tell Walls to take that gun away from her.” She said with a chuckle. Antoni felt a roll in his eye. Was this woman trying to joke with him? Maybe she did deserve this. He grabbed the box.

“Grazie.” He said, feeling that calm come over him as a thank you escaped his lips. Dandy gasped behind him. Something familiar had been burning inside her chest.

“If you’re going to be picking up for Wally more often, then I think I deserve to know your name.” She said. Antoni turned to face her. He took off his fedora and set it on the counter. He looked her in the eyes. Those same seafoam green eyes.

“Antoni.” He said. She softened for a moment, biting back tears as she approached him.

“Antoni.. I can’t believe it.. I had been looking everywhere for you! I thought I’d never see you again..!” Dandy began, approaching him with open arms.

Antoni felt his chest tighten, his heart beating quicker as this terrible anxiety filled him. Without a word, he drew the gun and pressed it firmly against Dandy’s forehead. They both had wide eyes. Dandy simply looked at him. She couldn’t help but shed a tear as she looked at her brother.

“I get it.. we were fighting, weren’t we..? I missed you, Toni-“

A shot rang out and there was a dull thud as a woman dropped dead on the floor. Antoni looked down, feeling uneasy. He never felt uneasy about shedding blood anymore. Why was this different. He looked down at her, then at the box of bullets in his hand. Antoni leaned down to look at her closer, unsure why his body was shaking. He stared at her for a long time before he reached into the pocket of her apron and took the keys. He’d have to send someone to clean this up, after all.

#welcome home mob au #mob Antoni pizzario #Antoni pizzario #dandy candy #mob dandy candy #mob au #planty stories #welcome home oc

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