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what-the--curtains · 3 years

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There are No Wolves in The Desert

(Oberyn Martell x f!reader)

Part 3 - An (in)Decent Proposal

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Summary: Oberyn makes you an offer you cant refuse.

Authors notes: Whoop here part 3 sorry this is taking SO long but I have no MOTIVATION (sang like jean ralphio)😭 Thank you for reading and sharing and commenting I love y all so much💕💕💕💕

TW: Mentions of incest (walder frey), mentions of alcohol, fighting

Word count: 4.9k

Tagged: @evyiione @xsadderdazeforeverx @agingerindenial @ayamenimthiriel

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The large wooden doors of your room slowly creak open rousing you from your restful slumber. You open one eye allowing yourself to adjust to the sun's bright rays that were coating your room's walls, brightening their pastel hues. You cautiously shift up, gaze locked on the door fingers clutched around your knife. Your fist relaxes as two figures enter the room, the first belonging to Shana who you recognized from last night and the other, to a younger girl. Shana walks towards the long table placing down the assorted fruits, breads and wine while the younger girl sits on your bed, slowly unscrewing a teal coloured jar’s lid. Your eyes follow her as she leans forward.

“Are you a Targareyn?” she asks, hand slowly hovering towards your face, intent on applying a cream to the area that had been forcibly rammed into a wall last night.

“No,” you respond, shifting back and out of her reach.

“You look like one,” she offers scooting closer to you determined to sooth your wound.

“Is that a compliment?” you ask, causing her to duck her head down in embarrassment, noticing her reaction, and feeling somewhat guilty you continue “My father was though, so I suppose in a way you are correct. You have a sharp eye, what is your name?” you query hoping to relieve any embarrassment.

“Kaina” she responds, eyes still on the bed spread.

“How old are you, Kaina?” you question, watching as an easiness washes over her as you allow her to apply the salve to your broken skin.

“Six and ten” she says, meticulously dabbing the mixture onto your face.

“Has the prince..ever.. propositioned you, ” you ask cautiously, curious as to the character of the man whose home you had been invited into.

“No, he has no eyes for children,” she says, redonning the jars lid.

“Which is more than you can say for the men of Westeros,” Shana quips as she appears at your side offering you a bowl of fruit which you take with a thank you. You pluck a raspberry from the bowl and pop it into your mouth, the freshness and sweetness delighting your tastebuds.

“That is very true, I knew of one man who married his own daughters,” you say, causing the two women to look at you horrified.

“When you age are you allowed to stay in the palace?” you query, ignoring their disdain for the practices carried out by the Frey family.

“Yes, we are allowed to stay or leave in order to continue our training if we wish,” Shana states

“Training?” you press.

“We are allowed to study here, I took up healing. Others like Shana learn to cook, others care for animals, or they train to fight, whatever they choose and they are allowed to come and go as they please,” Kaina states.

“You’re treated well here then? ”

“Yes, very much so” they both respond almost in unison.

“And are you paid well?”

“Yes, the princes both believe any service provided demands a payment. May I ask why you ask so many questions my lady?” Kaina ponders, her good nature causing you to smile.

“I am no lady, but I do take great value in the way a man treats his staff, especially those who hold less power than he. If I am to make a deal I wish to know whom I am making it with. I have no need to help abusers, ” you state as she recaps the salve that was now absorbing into your skin.

“A wise woman,” Shana states. “The prince is a good man, as is our king.”

“Neither of them would marry their own children,” the younger girl says standing again, horrified.

“Well that is good to hear,” you say with a soft chuckle,

“Do you need us to dress you my lady?” Shana offers, despite already knowing the answer.

“No I am quite alright thank you,” they curtsey and leave you to dress for the day. You pull on the lightweight leather armour before redonning your cloak, opting to leave the hood down, no point in hiding who you were now, at least while you were within the palace walls.

You stroll leisurely down the palace steps, admiring the limestone architecture and the gold detailing glimmering under the mid-morning sun. You watch the heat ripple as it rises off the metallic features. The day's warmth bears down on your face, even in the winter the dornish heat was nearly unbearable and infinitely warmer than Winterfell. Your head turns towards the sound of children laughing and you watch as two small blurs disappear round a corner, in chase of the butterflies flying throughout the palace. You continue through the garden hand ghosting along the Ivy leaves that snaked through the metallic fencing containing the gardens perimeter. You could easily see yourself getting lost amongst the vines, the winding paths leading off in multiple directions towards unknown destinations. You would return here another time, to truly admire the flora created by the old gods and the new. You stay true to your path for the time being, hoping to locate Oberyn so he could make light of his supposed proposition. You follow the faint metallic clammer echoing in the distance, the sound growing louder as you approach a large wooden arena. The training grounds were large, offering a place to train and exhibit the ornate and hypnotic fighting.

Their style was known across the seven kingdoms for being elegant and deadly, a combination you found paired well with at least one dornish individual you knew.

The arena's overhang offers you some shade, a luxury not afforded to those in the arena, you come to rest your forearms down on the palisade allowing your wrists to drape over the bannister as your shoulders relax. Oberyn's armour glimmers in the sun illuminating the sweat beaded over his tanned skin, a few loose strands of hair plastered to his forehead. You watch as he skillfully knocks his opponent to the ground before turning to you. You watch his charismatic features light up as he strides towards you allowing his opponent to regain his footing.

“Your beauty is greater than the messengers lead me to believe,” he states loudly, causing you to look down and shake your head, unsure what he hoped to achieve by shamelessly flirting with you.

“So you were spying on me,” you respond, ignoring his charms, much to his dismay. Your constant dismissal of his advances leaving him wondering if he had finally found someone immune to his charisma.

“We spy on anyone we think will be an ally or enemy to us, “ he says glancing back, not dropping his guard despite his opponents retreat to the arena's far side.

“Must be a long list,” you offer as he places his spear against the panelling, splashing his face with water before bending down to take a drink from one of the taps found throughout the city.

“Prior to his death, we wanted Robb Stark on our side, and you, or Lady Stark wherever she may be, we were told she was a ferocious warrior, ” he states, raising his eyebrows mischievously.

“Don't believe everything you hear. Though I suppose she owes you her life, perhaps a lesson in calligraphy would suffice, your handwriting is quite distinctive,” you smirk watching his head turn in faux shock before returning to his opponent.

“My time was better spent elsewhere,” he shouts back, blocking yet another shot brought forward by the palace guard. Turning he gracefully sweeps the legs out from beneath the man the entire ordeal lasting no longer than a few minutes.

“Pleasures of the flesh have far greater value to me than a pretty note,” he states clearly, turning to gauge your reaction. Despite you declining his advances the subject of sex appeared to have little to no effect on you. There was no giggle or blush that often came in the women of westeros who are told sex is a sacred act for man and wife.

“Too much time doing as you please and not nearly enough time spent doing what you should,” you state, a line your mother had frequently said when you trapsed throughout the forest instead of doing your housework. He looks at you, confusion and glee dancing on his face at your manner, or lack thereof, around him. Being a prince he wasn't used to such a direct tone. Others typically behaved themselves around him, either out of fear or admiration. Though neither were nearly as tantalizing as those who readily disregarded his status with such cutting wit.

“On your left,” you remark, allowing him to catch the oncoming hit just in time. He nods for the man to leave the arena leaving you alone with Oberyn.

“Shall we?” he calls out, and you cock your head to the side.

“You said you wished to practice, you care to try your luck,” he asks, swinging around grinning as he gestures to the large space.

“Luck won't have anything to do with me beating you,” you quip hopping over the panelling and into the arena.

“You need four weapons to defeat me?” he taunts from afar. You shoot him a look as you stab your knife into the ground before removing the quiver and bow placing them against the wall. You turn on the tap and splash your face with the water, flicking the remainder off your hands as you turn and walk into the sun towards your opponent.

“Just two which by my count is one less than you,” you offer.

“I only have one,” he explains

“The spear is long, has two ends, two weapons. Besides you have a shield. Shield counts as a weapon,” you state.

“And you don’t choose to fight without one,” he says, dropping the shield so you have no excuses for his impending victory.

“Don’t need a shield if the enemy is dead before they can reach you,” you explain.

“Cocky”, he says twirling the spear hitting the blunt end into the ground before pointing it forward and bending at the knees in preparation.

“You say as if you are not yourself,” you retort, arms reaching back and removing the swords twirling them before entering your own stance. He’ll make the first move, of that you're sure. He does as you expect, allowing you to stop the hit with your swords crossing them into an ‘x’ and using their combined force to push his spear up and to the side as you uncross them. His underestimation of your strength leaves him off balance as you spin around aiming for his knees. He manages to regain his footing and jumps easily over your sword showing off the flashy fighting style you’d expected of a dornish prince.

“Perhaps not as poor a fighter as you thought,” you state, ducking as he swings his spear around to hit you. Without breaking motion he spins the weapon above his head bringin it down almost hitting you had you not dropped to the ground. Rolling behind him you twirl your swords around and jab the hilts into the back on his knee. He falls to his knees and before he can formulate his next move you stand and kick his weapon out from his hand. He teeters forward and you grab him by the hair tugging it back exposing his throat. You bring your blade to his neck watching his Adam's apple bod as he swallows, eyes looking up to you with what one could only describe as admiration.

“I believe that's a match,” you say, removing the blade and pushing his head forward. He remains kneeling, half in shock, half aroused.

“One and done?” You chide watching as he remains on his knees. It was a sight you could get used to.

“Now there's something I've never been called before,” he chuckles, composing himself and standing back up “You're better than I thought,” he remarks bending to retrieve his spear.

“Is that what the men and women of Dorne say to you?” you taunt, watching as his eyes light up, a smile etched on his face as he searches for a response. “ I was a soldier before I was an assassin,” you explain, closing the silence for him.

“Women are allowed to fight in the north? Perhaps you all are more evolved than I had thought,” he states.

“I never said I was allowed to be there,” you admit, causing him to chuckle. “A murderer, a mercenary, and a liar. What other charming traits do you possess,” he queries winking at you.

“And here I thought the Red Viper was said to have a way with words,” you quip back much to his delight.

“One to one, drop your other sword,” he says, turning back towards you.

“That’s hardly fair,” you retort, more petulant than you’d have liked.

“I thought you would know by now, life isn’t fair,” He remarks and you grit your teeth but do as he requests jabbing your other sword into the ground.

“I should ask you to chop your spear in half,”

“Stop putting it off” he says, shining the spear’s point on his sleeve. It's different now he seems to have sussed out your style and in mere seconds. He lunges forward and you mirror him but he pulls back quickly, dancing out of reach from your sword which swings aimlessly in the air, throwing you off balance. You find your footing just as he sweeps your feet from beneath you knocking you on your back. He swings down but you block it with your forearm, managing to use your free hand to swipe at his ankle. Noticing your movements he jumps back, releasing the pressure of his weight from your arm allowing you to get back up.

“You’re bleeding,” he states, weapon falling to his side, upset at having marked your skin with his blade when he’d much rather have done so with his mouth.

“Stop trying to distract me,” you hiss, upset at being bested so easily. Rushing forward your weapons meet in the air. Metal on wood sounding out as you hack into the spear hoping to break it. As you split the spear in half he allows your force to carry you forward and he maneuvers behind you. A harsh tap on your wrist causes your hand to retract dropping your sword which clammers unhappily to the ground. The spear's blunt end wraps around your waist pulling you into him, his strength more apparent than ever. He brings the bladed end up bracing his arm against your chest and pointing it towards your heart, your body now pressed tightly into his.

“Match,” he whispers softly into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. He lets you go after a minute when he feels your body relax into his, letting you walk off in defeat. He turns back to pick up the broken end of his weapon, and as he does a dagger flies by his head sticking in the wall mere inches from him.

“Chest isn’t a definite kill. The throat is,” you say, your time spent healing leaving you attune to your enemies anatomy.

“I'll add cheating to your growing list of qualities, ” he tuts, throwing the dagger back sticking it in the wall near you. “I could have you hung for a stunt like that,” he states, sauntering over to you.

“Did you have a proposition for me? Or did you only wish for me to come back here so you could be smug?” you query and he laughs watching as you remove the wrist guard from your bloodied arm assessing the gash you’d procured during your fight. He comes over to you placing his hand under your upturned arm caressing it as he looks down at the cut with disdain.

“Come, you should go to the palace healers,” he says softly, offering you insight into why so many found themselves in his chambers.

“No need,” you say, removing the skin to skin contact you so desperately longed for. Grabbing a handful of leaves from a nearby bush you place them in your mouth, chewing them into a paste and rubbing it into the cut, “my mother was a healer. That tree, its leaves cauterize the wound, less pain than fire, less scarring as well,” you state upon seeing his confusion. “Your proposition, my prince?” you ask his eyes going from your arm to your eyes.

“More of a request I suppose. My niece Arianne has gone missing since our last meeting, she was running away somewhere, towards something but someone else got to her first. We have our suspicions as to who has stolen her, but we need evidence prior to the accusation. I had my birds fly around and ask whom to contact, it seemed that you were the one for the job,” he explains.

“Is that so. How do I know I can trust you?” you ask, he’d found you and he’d been good thus far, but anytime you were shown kindness you were hesitant. In your experience it nearly always came with a price.

“I'm sure you're aware, but they have murdered my sister, and my greatest love I will not allow them to take anyone else I care for,” he says, fire in his eyes. It was the most serious you’d seen him. His usual jovity lost in a stoic expression, reminding you of another man you once knew.

“I believe your intentions to be true, but that is not cause for trust,” you explain, watching as nods his head slowly in agreement.

“You cannot trust, because you are unable. I understand why, so I fear nothing I say will ease you, but I swear, no harm will come to you here.”

“Not until you have what you want, at least” you mumble.

“And after,” he reassures, his tone nearly leading you to believe him.

“And apart from payment what's in it for me? If I am to uncover a truth that could start a war. I've spent too long hiding away to risk being found,”

“You have no risk, they think you’re dead, proclaimed it themselves, even if you showed up, they'd never be able to say otherwise. Apart from that, a chance at family,”

“Family,” you scoff, the concept long forgotten. “My family is dead” you say, a lie you told yourself to keep you away from Winterfell, though it was a lie likely to be true, knowing the Lannisters obsession with tying up loose ends.

“The Starks are rising again, Sansa is back in Winterfell, Arya is assumed alive and Jon is leading at the wall,” Oberyn lists off the rumours that had passed by his ears, but they were only whispers, nothing solid enough for you to cling too.

“Even if what you say is true I am nothing to them,” you say, tone remaining level despite the knot forming in your stomach.

“You are there sister,”

“I am not, not anymore, not after I failed them,” you confess.

“How so?”

“You asked me why I was here, I was here to find and plead my case to Danearys Targaryn. At Robbs behest, to help destroy the Lannisters,” you finally admit, a heavy sigh exhaled as you do.

“And I take it you never did,” he watches as a sense of shame, or perhaps it was guilt, wash over you, a crack in your armour.

“You help me find Arianne, you help me bring her home and I will help you reach the mother of dragons,” he states earnestly.

“You know where she is?” you ask head quickly, turning to him.

“Not yet, but I found you, and you were dead, someone alive,” you watch as he pulls a face “should be no problem.”

“And why would you help me,” you query, still unsure of his true motivation for recruiting you.

“An eye for an eye, or perhaps it's purely selfish. An assassin can only go so far. A dragon, now that can take down a lineage,” he says looking down at you.

“I cannot promise her safety, I will not mince words, for all we know Arianne may be dead,” you explain.

“I understand this. Think it over, your welcome to stay here as long as you please, it has been a while since I have faced new opponents, and ones with different training, sloppy as it may be,” he quips, hoping to bring a smile to your face.

“I could say the same of you,” you retort quickly.

“I've never been described as sloppy,” Oberyn states, only partially offended at the insinuation.

“Perhaps you surround yourself with people aiming to please you for too long,” you say, accidentally bumping your shoulder into him, the sudden contact causing a heat to rise in your stomach.

‘Perhaps,” he laughs, noting your flustered reaction, when a man approaches handing him a note which he reads intently. You take the moment to admire his strong features as they concentrate on the note. His brow was furrowed, pouted lips mouthing along to the scripture of the letter before dropping it down to his sides. “As much as it devastated me to do so, I must take my leave from your company, my Lady,” he bows, excusing himself to consult his brother before you can correct him. You continue to stroll through the garden watching a mass of colours bloom around you. You sit on a stone bench wondering how you’d ended up here, wondering if your family was in fact dead, and if any of the Starks truly remained alive.

“You’re the white wolf aren’t you?” you hear a voice call out behind you causing you to laugh.

“What?” the voice demands

“It seems I have many as many names as there are kings these days,” you state.

“Any of them true?” the voice asks as you turn to see the eldest sand snake, Tyene. She was Oberyn and Ellaria's daughter, their first born. She reminded you of Arya, the hardness on her face caused by the brave facade forced onto her.

“I was sorry to hear of your mothers passing, ” you say, turning to face Tyene ignoring her previous question.

“Were you?” she states accusingly.

“I was, she produced and trained all of you after all. You were the only people in Dorne who actually scared me,” you admit.

“If it's any condolence the Shadow Tracker had reached our ears, and my mother was quite impressed with you as well,” she says, knife twirling between her fingers “How did you find him, my father?”

“Unfortunately your father found me. He needs my help, to find your cousin,” you explain hoping to ease her weariness about your place in the palace.

“Who better to take down a lion than someone who lost everything because of them,” she states, trying to see where your allegiances lie. Tyene was always wary when an unknown woman arrived. Concerned they are seeking to use her father to gain power. “Added bonus you look as you do I suppose,” she continues, knife dancing between her digits.

“I wonder why beauty is always what it comes back to? I would be here no matter my face,” you state.

“While I believe you would have been hired, my father has an eye for pretty things. You would have been paid but you wouldn't have been welcomed back to the palace,” she scoffs.

“Are you sure of that?” you question, unsure if she was being truthful or spiteful.

“Yes,” she replies matter of factly

“Well, I'll take that into consideration. Your cousin, Arianne, where was she going the day she disappeared?” you question.

“I don't know,” she mumbles, knife stalling for a moment.

“I don't believe that.”

“We searched her room, we found nothing, nothing but this,” she says, retrieving a small book and handing it to you.

“You give it to me freely?” she hesitates letting it go but her grip eases allowing you to take it.

“If what they say of you is true, perhaps you are the only one who can find her. She can't be left for long. She can't defend herself. All she knows is stitching and art and reading,” Tyene spits, eyes glistening slightly.

“All of which are valiant professions and skills, ones I wish I possessed. They foster patience, skill and planning. They forge a strategic mind, which comes in handy especially when taken by the enemy, ” you explain, your words easing Tyene, though the worry in her eyes remains.

“So she may still be alive,” she questions hesitantly.

“I do not think they killed her at least not yet,” you sigh, tapping the book against your hand “Thank you for trusting me with this,”

“Thank me by finding her,” Tyene says standing up and continuing on her way, leaving you to read Ariannes journal pages.

That night you can't sleep, you stroll through the garden admiring the flora, the colours are ones you'd never thought possible before.

“Running off,” a familiar voice asks and you turn to face the prince who was sitting on a stone bench a book placed precariously in his hands.

“Would you stop me if I was?” you query, returning on your path.

“No, though your dress indicates something else is the reason for your late night adventure,” he says standing up and walking slowly towards you.

“Insomnia, the plague of the guilty,” you state, taking a tiger lily in your hand admiring its markings “even in the summer the north fails to grow such things.”

“Even the plants know, the cold is no place to live,” Oberyn offers, book grasped tightly behind his back.

“Have you been?” you ask, removing your hand from the lily, eyes trailing up to the moon flowers that were glowing under the starlight.

“No,” he huffs, as if the question is preposterous.

“Then how would you know?” you respond smugly, eyes glancing up at him admiring his features as they relax into defeat before glancing down to you brow still furrowed, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “The trees are unlike anything you have ever seen, taller than buildings, older than the race of men. They’ll be here long after we crumble. Their red leaves against the white bark, the time of the old gods still etched into existence. Have you ever seen the snow my prince?” you query turning to face him.

“No, though i've heard the mountain peaks here can get it this time of year, but i've never been possessed to seek out the cold,” he admits, the colour of your eyes more prominent under the full moon, your poetic retelling almost enticing, or perhaps it was just the lips they fell from drawing him in.

“I miss it sometimes,” you confess, offering him a rare glimpse of softness he’d yet to see, “There's no feeling quite like that of being under furs with the one you love, the warmth of a fire as the cold breeze blows over you,” you continue, shaking your head at your ridiculous notions of tranquility.

“It is still warmth you crave then,” he says and you laugh.

“I suppose you're right,” you admit and he chuckles, enjoying your laugh, more melodic than he would have expected. Without your armour he could see the scars scattered across your body, not prominent but there. Evidence of a harder life than he’d expected from a person married to a would-be king.

“Are you not used to such ghastly sights my prince?” you query, his eyes widening at being caught admiring your form.

“I have seen scars before, and yours are hardly what one would qualify as ghastly ,especially considering the body they find themselves etched into existence on. I am merely curious as to their origin, each body tells a story after all,” he says following closely behind you.

“And what is my story” you ask, spinning around to face him.

“That your careless, ” he begins, watching as your eyes caution him “but only for those you are willing to risk your life for”

“Interesting,” you say, running your tongue along the cusps of your teeth, turning and walking on ahead, his eyes following you, feet doing the same.

“Am I right” he asked, more curious than ever. You shrug your shoulder annoying him slightly, not accustomed to your lack of openness.

“And your scars?” you question stopping to smell a lilac bush, he watches as the fabric dips low enough to reveal your chest.

“I have none, I am not careless,” he says, eyes on your newly exposed flesh, you snap your eyes to him “do not mistake my tone, you are a strong adversary, but you take unnecessary risks.” He states.

“Yet here I am,” you say standing up crossing your arms over your chest.

“Yet here you are,” he says, taking continuous steps to you until the space between you both is closed. He’s staring down at you, both hearts beating fast. You raise your gaze to meet his, momentarily lost in his eyes, forgetting your train of thought for a moment.

“I...I will help find your niece,” you sputter out, quickly turning your back to him.

“I am pleased to hear that,” he says letting out a quick sigh at having missed an opportunity to envelop you in his arms and bring you back to his chambers.

“Goodnight prince Oberyn,” you say, not looking back as you begin the path back to your room, your head filled with his image despite your persistent attempts to expel him from your mind.

“Goodnight Lady Stark, or whoever you wish me to believe you to be,” he calls back, watching as you disappear from view.

#oberyn martell x y/n #oberyn martell x you #oberyn martell x reader #prince oberyn x reader #prince oberyn #prince oberyn x you #pedro pascal characters #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones #oberyn martell #no wolves in the desert #part 3

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allisonm22 · 7 years

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95 Thoughts I Had During the PLL Finale

If its not already obvious, spoilers below.

1) What the hell is this scene? 2) I think this is a dream, why is there no one else around 3) Jennas on a horse, dream theory confirmed 4) Off to a weird start already 5) Hannah is too nice, Mona tried to kill you honey, let that friendship die 6) Caleb won’t say hi? Thats super fucking shady baby please don’t be A.D. 7) oh fuck is that Melissa? 8) JK its mona..wait why is she even wearing a mask? 9) If I were Aria, I’d be pissed as hell that Hannah brought Mona along, like kick her ass out? 10) Oh god Aria,stop crying, why cant you marry bae? Actually I dont even care. 11) Spencer that was a BOLD move...oh fuck that its for scrabble?! 12) How is Mona trying to act like she doesnt know who A is, didnt she see him/ her at Radley? Or are we supposed to just forget about that? 13) oooh no poor Aria sorry boo 14) Oh hey its mary drake 15) the spencer/ mary drake relationship annoys me to be honest 16) how did the cop not see them holding hands? 17) Ezra is fucking goals..except that time he was kind of A and writing a book about them behind their back. 18) Aria’s dad will forever creep me the fuck out 19) Alison and Em’s mom are being so obvious 20) Alison is deff gunna propose 21) Random thought I’ve had since 2010- Spencer’s mom (before that mary drake shit) looks like Olivia Benson 22) Why do they keep talking about Addison? Why are we supposed to care about her? Marlene don’t make her part of this I WILL FLIP. 23) The moms mentioned the basement! Are they going to tell us how they got out?!?! 24) Nope they are not 25) I’ve been hearing about their relationships since 2010, wrap it up and start talking about A.D.! 26) whyyyyy do they dress Alison so horribly? Like even her pajamas are horrendous 27) called that proposal 28) That ring is so pretty!!! 29)”How much damage can she do in one night” FORESHADOWING!!!!!!!!!! 30) any scene with a naked toby is a gift, I'm about it 31) Toby’s hair looks so soft 32) Who the fuck is playing the piano 33) ohhhh fuck its Mona, im not shocked though 34) Im getting vibes that someone is going to die 35) whaaaaaaat the fuckkkkkk is this place 36) whats happening 37) oh fuck how’d mary get out? I never know how to feel about her 38) DO NOT TELL ME SPENCER HAS A BRITISH TWIN 39) DO NOT TELL ME THAT 40) her british accent is horrendous 41) WREN! 42) Are they trying to pull a parent trap on PLL 43) omg all those times it wasnt spencer! 44) Hannah wasnt sleeping! YO TOBY FUCKED FAKE SPENCER TWICE! 45) I knew i got weird vibes from that airport scene! 46) but why would she do all this if she didnt even know Charlotte? 47) “Till death do us part”...SIG-NIF-I-CANT (sung like Jean-Ralphio from Parks and Rec) 48) Isn’t Wren a fucking psychologist?! there were soooooo many red flags buddy and you missed them ALL 49) oh fuck she killed him and put him in a necklace...casual 50) Remember when Marlene King lied and said they werent going to copy the books? 51) Well actually I take it back she didnt technically lie, she gave us not one but three sets of twins 52) going off track for a second, twins skip a generation so super unlikely that mary drake would have twins 53) also like why couldnt they mention Ali was having twins? im not understanding the twin obsession 54) Back on track...OH FUCK THEYRE WREN’S BABIES 55) Why cant mary help her? thats your daughter bitch! 56) yo Mary literaly sold Alex, I know she didnt have a choice really but thats fucked upppppp. 57) A.D.-Alex Drake....I literally just got that 58) Spencer I wouldve knocked mary out and RAN 59) why does she have bae/Ezra? like what is the point? 60) Rollins looks like Keanu Reeves 61) seriously why is Cece dressed like a fucking pimp 62) wait they just explained like five years worth of plot in five seconds and I can barely understand it because of THAT SHIT ACCENT! 63) honestly them explaining how jenna/sara/sydney are involed so quickly shows how bad this ending really is 64) Toby is gunna figure it out with the horse doesnt like her!!! 65) Horses always know wtf is up 66) Jennas gunna sniff her out 67) Evil twin is such a big leap to make based off a person smelling weird 68) I feel like that whole squad accepted the evil twin theory too quickly like if someone came up to me and was like hey our best friend smells different I think shes being held hostage and the one walking around is actually her evil twin, I would be like ..............what 69) Mona’s a double agent! I think? another one im never sure about 70) Yay theyre out run babies run! 71) why the fuck would you split up have you people learned nothing 72) whaaaaaat, thats not real theyre not actually outside right? 73) I feel like I’m watching Lost honestly 74) Alex walking around with that axe though is my forever mood honestly 75) DONT YOU FUCKING DARE KILL EZRA 76) WAIT WHOSE WHO 77) OHHHH FUCK DONT SHOOT THE WRONG ONE! 78) He shouldve shot Alex fuck that she helped mary escape jail she could easily escape 79) Arias second wedding dress- SO much better 80) oh fuck you marlene king with your cameo shush yourself right off my screen 81) Mona sells dolls in france.....cool cool cool (not cool) 82) deff the creepiest thing ive ever seen in my life 83) oh wait just kidding now its the creepiest thing ive ever seen 84) so Mona’s just full blown psychotic, weve known that since season two thanks for the well written plot twist 85) Dont tell me Addisons about to go missing for a spin off 86) lol addison went missing for a spin off 87) nope sorry im out, i cant invest any more time into another marlene king shit show 88) lemme save you time babies, you better hope addison is dead, cause if not, youre in for a fucking roller coaster of a life 89) in conclusion, im SUPER PISSED jason didnt come back because i looooooved me some jason eye candy 90) I hate that this whole plot was orchestrated by an new character whose only motivation was that she was friends with cece. 91) why did everyone love cece?! she was so fucking shitty like the fuck? 92) I wanted it to be this intricate theory that theyve been planning for years, I really wanted it to be someone weve seen for the past seven years, someone in the background we wouldnt have even thought twice about, that wouldve had alot more shock value 93) also giving it to a new character takes away the opportunity to link A.D. back the original plot for the first five years. I hate how it was essentially two different stories, it makes me feel like the first five years were a waste. 94) Im just dissapointed because i REALLY wanted them to redeem themselves after the Cece/Charlie shit show and they had so many opportunities to make it great and they continued to drop the ball. I like the characters and their personal storylines though, thats the thing ill miss, not the fake reveals and actual reveals that make no sense. Im all about their character growth and personally loved watching them grow on and off screen. Its just a shame the storyline couldnt do them justice. 95) Lets not let Marlene King write anymore shows, K? K.

#PLL #pll finale #pll lb #pll spoilers #pll fandom

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