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#and rhys is just like
jay-wasstuff · 6 months
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captain-flint · 6 months
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x
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bizarrelittlemew · 7 months
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Stede facing the crew after finding out about their (attempted) murder of Ed
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saltpepperbeard · 1 year
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Vico Ortiz + Their Sword
(for @stedebonnets)
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bbyteach · 5 months
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Rhys’s recent interviews are killing me(x)
Stede totally powered through with the earnest whimsy and I’m sure that’s what Ed loved most 🥺
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rambunctioustoons · 4 months
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little closer than normal.
half re-draw, half doodling out scenes!
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copypastus · 24 days
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What if acotar antagonists got the same level of justification as our 'heroes' from the Night Court did?
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celluloidbroomcloset · 5 months
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Last year-ish I recall an interview with Rhys Darby where he was talking about being a young comedian and feeling like he always had to get the bigger and bigger laugh, to keep the audience, and the result was that he stopped caring how he got it. As he got older, he decided to just do his art, stop worrying about it, and hope the audience met him there. (I'm paraphrasing, 'cause I can't find the interview.)
I think this translates to what we see in OFMD with him and Taika Waititi, and what David Jenkins has said about how they make each other vulnerable. They don't try to undercut those serious, more emotional moments with humor, to "get the bigger laugh," and that's a big part of what makes the Stede/Ed relationship work. It's funny and it's fun, but there's no puncturing of the emotions with a sudden joke (which would've been so easy to do, and I'm sure there are times in rehearsal where they went too far and had to pull back). Even the ad-lib of the thumb war doesn't puncture anything, because it's sweet and silly and in character, and also quite intimate. The little whispered "you won" packs so much joy and love.
It's cool how the comedy itself is profound because it works alongside the more serious emotions, and that's very much down to the two of them.
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sirendeepity · 2 months
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Azriel: Bryce woke up a long forgotten Daglan from their eternal nap
Rhys, sweating: there's a Daglan on Prythian?
Nesta: not anymore
Cassian, in the background: 😍
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djarin · 7 months
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the way they both sidled up to each other. the way they kissed under the moonlight. the way they set and respected each other's boundaries. the hand holding, the thumb war, the gentle smile, the "you won." this is the queer representation i needed. queer people being unapologetically queer in all the gentle, sweet ways we know.
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So, logically, I'm glad they didn't show us Ed and Stede kissing either in Stede's dream or in the mermaid sequence. I think that was a good choice and it gave the impact of their kiss in episode 5 a lot more punch. Kisses in those scenes would have been nothing but a fantasy and this season dwells much more on reality than on fantasies. Saving the kisses made the actual ones all the better.
However.
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northernpansy · 2 years
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i keep trying to make a post about how objectively funny it is that Taika Waititi seems to have been the one who pushed for Rhys Darby to audition for Stede but it keeps sounding like rpf which ew no gross
but it is objectively funny imagine your good friend Taika Waititi who you’ve known and worked with for decades phones you up like “there’s this part on a show I’m working on and you’re perfect for it literally it needs to be you” and you look into it and the role is Kiss Taika
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edscuntyeyeshadow · 5 months
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princess edward teach canon let’s fucking goooooooo
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saltpepperbeard · 6 months
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I love you. I love you. I know. I know that.
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notthebeststufftbh · 7 months
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feyreswaterybowels · 9 days
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⟡ Princess of Dreams ⟡
# 1 Lucien x Rhys!Sister
⟡Part 1⟡Part 2⟡Part 3⟡
Word Count: 3k
Summary: Centuries ago Rhys’ youngest sister was kidnapped by the High Lord of Spring instead of kill like their mother and sister. The high lord had wards placed on his court so she was unable to leave. Rhys has believed her to be dead this whole time. What happens when Feyre finds out who she is and swears to take her home.
Warnings/Tag: Takes place during ACOWAR. Implied past sexual assault. Fluffy romance. Feyre being besties with Rhy’s sister. Pet names (pretty girl, sweet girl, Princess (her title)
Authors Note: All likes, comments and reblogs are welcome, appreciated and encouraged. Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for part 2! Bold italics are mental communication regular italics are inner thoughts.
⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆ ݁⟡ ݁✩ ݁⟡ ݁⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☽ ݁⟡ ݁⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☽ ݁⟡ ݁⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☽ ݁⟡ ݁⋆
I know who you are.
I don’t know what you’re talking about, Feyre—
You’re Rhys' sister. He told me all about you while I was there. I…I have a plan. I’ll take you back with me when I go. I’ll take you home.
The hushed conversation with Feyre played on repeat in my head for days. She had trusted me enough to tell me she wasn’t really here for Tamlin, that it was a plot, a plan and she was going back to the Night Court. Back to Velaris and she was taking me with her—she was taking me home.
Home.
There was only one problem. Just one. The male lying in my bed. I turn away from the window to gaze at him lying there naked, golden skin glowing in the moonlight. A crown of red splayed around his head. Grooves and planes of lean muscles on display. Arms folded behind his head.
Gods, he’s beautiful.
I had yet to tell him of Feyre’s plan. I believed he wouldn’t tell Tamlin but at the same time…I wasn’t sure how safe his mind was with two other daemanti in the house. I could only protect his mind when I was with him. Plus, Tamlin was his best friend. His High Lord. If he knew of Feyre’s plan to leave…and everything else she told me and Tamlin found out, we could both be locked away again. Not only that, but if he found out Lucien knew? That couldn’t happen. I wouldn’t let harm come to either of them.
I took in a deep breath, walking over to the bed, tucking my wings as I slowly crawled up that perfect body. Dipping my head and trailing my lips over that patch of hair that went down, down, down, breathing in the scent of him. Mm.
“And what exactly are you doing?” That deep voice rumbled. I looked up, a sly grin across his face, metal eye glowing in the dark as he took in the sight of me between high thighs as I licked my bottom lip.
“Who? Me?” I asked, sliding a hand up his thigh to grasp him in my hand, stroking him once.
“Yes you, Princess” He laughs, grabbing and pulling me up the bed, kissing me as he rolls us over. I can feel him hard and heavy between my legs and it makes me moan.
“Lucien,” His name falls from my lips as he presses our bodies together. “Don’t tease, I want you.”
“Don’t tease?” He scoffs, “Says the one who was about to wake me up with a pretty little mouth.”
His grin is feral and I can’t help but return it.
“Come on,” I spread my legs wider, letting him feel the wetness there, “I know you want it.”
“And she calls me the tease,” He mocks under his breath before kissing me, tongue sliding into my mouth.
My fingers tangle in those long fire locks. I moan when I feel the heat radiating from his body, I love when he does that. The heat always feels so good against my sensitive skin.
He grins at me again, pushing up onto his knees, towering over me. He grabs my thighs, spreading them out and looking over me and I let him. I always loved the way he looks at me, his beautiful scarred face showing every ounce of emotion he feels.
He reaches between his thigh, wrapping a strong fist around himself and I watch stroke for stroke as he watches me. I tug on that bond between us, watching as it seemingly tugs him closer though I know it was his own doing.
“So, beautiful, all laid out for me,” He groans and I open myself further for him. Stretching my wings out across the bed, arms above my head, legs still spread wide but using a foot to rub over his calf.
That does it for him. He swoops down, grabbing me around the waist to yank my hips up, lining himself up and filling me. I cry out his name, arching into that fullness, into that glorious stretch.
We move together heat and passion. It’s rough and loving and he’s got me falling over the edge in minutes. Then again. And again. He’d always been so good at getting me there. Doing everything to make sure I was pleasured properly.
Tonight was no different as he leans over me, slow, firm thrusts hitting exactly where I needed it as he mouthed at my wing, tongue tracing through the grooves, and one hand wrapped around my wrists above my head to hold me in place.
“Say my name, pretty girl” he says, heated kisses on my wing.
“Lucien,”
“Louder,” he growls.
“Lucien!”
“I want the whole house to hear you, sweet girl.” His tongue laves over a particularly sensitive spot and I’m gone again. Gushing over him and moaning his name loud enough that the whole house definitely heard it.
It’s not long after that his thrusts are slowing. He lets go of my hands so I can touch him, he always liked having my touch when he came. I grinned into our kiss as my hands ran over his body. His panting moans turning into grunted growls. He was so sexy like this. Covering me fully, hair falling around his face, teeth bared.
I reached up pushing his hair behind those pointed ears, thumb tracing over part of his scar before pulling him into a kiss that was more tongue than anything.
“Fuck, just like that, baby,” I moaned into his mouth. “You’re gonna make me cum again. Make me feel so good!”
“Yeah? Gonna cum in that pussy for you, pretty girl, then I'm gonna eat it out.”
That’s what did it for me, I tightened around him. He follows me over the edge a few thrust later with a growl of my name.
Then he’s slipping from my body and sliding down, kissing a trail to my centre, keeping true to his promise.
“Fuck,” He groaned, coming back up, sliding his tongue into my mouth to let me taste myself. Kissing me slow and sloppy. “So perfect. My pretty, perfect mate.”
Despite what we’d just done I blush at his words.
“My sweet handsome mate,” I whisper back, tumbing at the bottom of his scar again before wrapping my arms around his neck.
He holds me tight, arms wrapping around me as we catch our breath. I tuck my face into the crook of his neck breathing in his scent—organic, earthy and sweet. Perfect.
My eyes welled up when thoughts of leaving weave through my brain. This was my mate, I had built a life here with him. But I had been trapped in this house for so long that it wasn’t really life. I wanted to go home to Velaris. To my brother and our family. I could try to convince Lucien to go but that could put him in danger. I had almost lost him under the mountain, I could t go through that again. If I left first I could always seek him out later but to stay here when I had the opportunity to finally go home, when I had Feyre telling me she could break the wards binding me here. I couldn’t turn that down.
“My love, what’s wrong?” Lucien asks, pulling back to look at me. Our eyes meet as he wipes away my tears. “Talk to me.”
I sniffled. I felt like it was now or never. I either told him now or he would find out when I leave. I couldn’t do that to him though. It would break his heart to wake up one day and find me gone.
“Please, tell me what’s wrong,” He said, petting my hair.
“I don’t know if I can say it out loud,” I tell him, our eyes meeting.
“That’s okay, Princess” Lucien nods his head, concern written all over his face.
“You can’t tell Tamlin,” The crease between his brow deepens. “You can’t tell him, Lucien, please. Promise me.”
He watches me for a moment, confused and concerned but he nods. “I promise. I won’t tell him.”
“Feyre and Rhys’ bond wasn’t actually broken that day with Hybern. She’s has a plan to go back. She…she said she can break the wards that hold me here so I can— I can finally go home,” I tell him, his eyes widen but he doesn’t look entirely shocked at what I’ve told him.
“And I’m assuming you have the intention of going with her?” He asks, sadness tinged the words and the bond.
“I have to, Lucien. I haven’t seen Rhys in centuries. Centuries. And he thought I was dead the entire time until recently. I need to go home, I need to see him and the rest of our family,” I cried, hot tears sliding down my face. He grabs me, pulling me up and holding me. Stroking my hair and shushing me softly.
“You should go, Princess. You should go home,” He says, kissing my head. I pull back to look at him, searching his face.
“Come with me,” I whisper, grabbing his face. “You can come. You would love Velaris—”
“I can’t,” he cuts me of gently, stroking his knuckles down my cheek. “Not that I don’t want to. Fuck, it hurts just thinking about you being away from me but if the three of us disappear? Tamlin will flip shit.”
“And he won’t be able to get to us in Velaris,” I tell him, grabbing the hand caressing my cheek and holding it tightly. “We would be safe there, Lucien. We could have a life together, a real one. Our own place by the river I showed you. A proper mating ceremony. We’ve been talking about kids for a decade. We could happily and safely have them there.”
“I don’t know…” Lucien shakes his head and I can see the water lining his eye.
“Me and you, Lu. That’s what we always said. Me and you—”
“Always.” Lucien nodded, looking over my face. Taking in every detail like he was trying to remember what I looked like before I was even gone. “What if you go with Feyre and I come later? You have to go now, you’re right you can’t pass up this opportunity to go home. I understand that. But you can come back for me, right? I could help keep Tamlin away…for some time anyway.”
My tears break loose then as I sob against his neck.
“I know it’s the best option but I don’t want to leave you,” I cried, clinging to him as he pulled me into his lap, letting my wings cocoon around us.
“Sh, it’s gonna be okay, my love.” I feel his tears on my neck and my heart breaks.
It was right but it felt so wrong.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
“So you’re joining us after all?” comes Tamlins snarky comment as soon as I walk out of the manor. I roll my eyes, fluffing the ugly powder blue dress.
“Unfortunately,” I rolled my eyes at him, it was too early for his shit, but still smiled at Lucien when his arm wrapped around my waist, careful of my wings.
“You can stay here,” Tamlin retorted with an eye roll of his own. “That would be preferable.”
“Well my mate asked me to attend. As did my friend, even if you wish Feyre wasn’t my friend,” I sneered at him with a wicked grin.
“I would never say that,” Tamlin returned the sneer, baring his teeth at me.
“Play nice, Princess,” Lucien purrs through the bond.
“Not out loud anyway,” I gave a sweet smile. “You look beautiful,” I said, hugging Feyre and kissing her cheek before pulling Lucien away to our horses.
Lucien helped me onto my horse, a gorgeous black mare, her coat shining even in the darkness of morning—a gift from Lucien after I accepted the mating bond. I looked down at him with a smile, running my hand through his hair.
“You’re lucky I love you, I really don’t want to deal with Ianthe’s shit today,” I said, situating myself in the saddle.
“Ianthe’s shit is exactly why I asked you to come,” Lucien said, grabbing my hand and kissing the back of it. “I appreciate you coming anyway, your presence will make it much more tolerable for me.”
“Yeah, I know, come on, let's get this over with,” I said, urging him to his own horse. “I’m ready to get today over with so I can get drunk and dance with you under the stars.”
Ugh, he looks so good. I thought as his head dropped back with a laugh before mounting his horse, dressed in autumn colors he stood out perfectly from everyone else wearing the hideously bright spring court colors. I’d be covered head to toe in Night Court black if it was allowed. I’d have loved to see the look on Ianthe’s face if I had shown up today in all black.
We set off soon after everyone had mounted their horses and there were already hundreds of fae crowded atop the hill when we arrived. I fought the urge to bare my teeth when I saw Ianthe’s gaze lingering on my mate as he dismounted his horse and strided to mine.
“Ignore it. She’s not worth your jealousy,” Lucien said as he reached for my hand, helping me from the saddle.
“I’m not jealous. I’m protective. I don’t like the way she looks at you,” I say, running my hands over the collar of his jacket. “Like she’ll drag you away to have her way with you whether you like it or not.”
“That’ll never happen, my love.”
“Damn right it won’t, I’d break her hands if she ever touches you,” I huff, as a feline smile crosses his lips.
“You’re sexy when you’re possessive,” He said, leaning down to kiss me, first my lips then my forehead before extending his arm to me to hold onto.
“You better make this up to me later,” I grumble, as I would much rather be back at the estate hiding in my room.
“Oh, I will make it up to you, sweet girl,” Lucien promised, leaning down to whisper in my ear, “slowly, with my tongue. Over and over.”
My body flushed knowing exactly how good he is with that wicked tongue. His gaze turns heated knowing exactly what I was thinking, feeling exactly what I was feeling.
“Lucien,” Tamlin calls from where he and Feyre are standing. I glance at those full lips one last time before he’s gently pulling me, guiding me away from our partially secluded spot. .
Jurian is at my other side suddenly walking with us as we trail behind Tamlin and Feyre—also linked by the arms and the Hybern Royals. I had seen the gleam in Feyre’s eye before she turned away, like a wolf getting ready to play with its prey. It made me giddy inside.
I couldn’t wait to witness her revenge.
We stopped walking when Tamlin and Feyre did, reaching Ianthe at her stupid altar as she offered them a singular nod of head. The Hybern twins shifted impatiently, Brannagh had made comments the night before how they didn’t bother with such things in Hybern—practically implying that soon we wouldn’t be bothering with it either. Smug little bitch.
“A blessed solstice to us all,” Ianthe called out to everyone around and I don’t roll my eyes the way I want to.
I stood there through an endless string of prayers and rituals, acolytes pouring sacred wine and the blessing of harvest goods. A lovely, rehearsed little number. Lucien was practically falling asleep between Feyre and I.
Ianthe lifted her wine and intoned “As the light is strongest today, let it drive out unwanted darkness. Let it banish the black stain of evil.” I sneered at her, I knew those words were directed at me. My brother. Feyre. Our home.
“She’s lucky my wine doesn’t end up in her pretty face,” I silently told Feyre, watching her expertly hide her grin with the wine chalice—her silent agreement.
“Would Princess Brannagh and Prince Dagdan do us the honor of imbibing this blessed wine?”
I shared a look with Feyre as the twins frowned at one another—the crowd murmuring behind us. But Feyre stepped aside, smiling a pretty smile and gesturing to the alter for the royals.
“Drink and let our new allies become friends,” Ianthe declared before they could refuse. “Drink and wash away the endless night of the year.”
The two daemanti surveyed their cups, most likely searching for any hint of poison. Feyre kept that smile on her face, I couldn’t extend that same faux courtesy when the prince looked my way. I didn’t care enough to put on the facade.
They each barely sipped the wine before trying to step away from the altar. Ianthe cooed at them like children, insisting they stay at the altar with her, to experience the ceremony at her side.
“I’m bored, Luc,” I grumbled to Lucien through the bond as Ianthe continued on with her praises and rituals. Eyes finding Lucien every now and then, looking away when I send her a death glare—lucky she doesn’t know who I really am.
“I’ll be over soon,” Lucien chuckles, pulling me into his side with an arm around my waist.
Finally, Tamlin was summoned over to light the candle for the souls lost this past year. This part bored me too. Those souls were gone; they didn’t need a candle lit to bring them back to the light. But just as I was starting to lose my patients the sky was finally filling with streaks of pink as Jurian was called forward to recite a prayer as well.
It left only Lucien and I standing with Feyre in the circle of grass, the altar and horizon in front of us and the crowd behind us. The look on Lucien’s face drew my attention as he scanned the area and I could help the crack of a smile when I noticed something out of place. A miniscule little detail no one else seemed to notice—except maybe now my mate.
I watched as Ianthe stepped toward the hill’s edge, her golden hair tumbling freely down her back as she lifted her arms to the sky. The chosen spot was intentional. Only that marker that told her where to stand wasn’t in the spot it had been in when we first arrived.
Golden rays of sunlight finally broke over the horizon. Light filled the world clear and strong. The murmurs started through the crowd. Cries of a name, not Ianthe’s but Feyre’s.
That gorgeous light had not filled and surrounded Ianthe but Feyre.
Ianthe seemed to be the last to notice, to see the sun was not blessing her but Feyre.
She glowed so brightly, brighter than what seemed natural for this occasion but I didn’t care to question why. She was beautiful—shining as if she were the star that hung above Ramiel.
“Curse breaker,” some murmured.
“Blessed,” others whispered.
Feyre's face was one of surprise and acceptance, though I knew it wasn’t genuine, those around us wouldn’t read it that way. They would only see what she allowed them too. The shock and bafflement of Tamlin and the Hybern twin’s faces was ever satisfying.
But Feyre didn’t look at them. She turned to Lucien and I, her light radiating so bright it was almost hard to keep that eye contact. A friend looking to another for help. She reached a hand to Lucien then to me.
I knew Ianthe had to be losing her shit behind us but I was too enchanted by my brother's mate. Yes, this was all a show, but Feyre was special.
I took her hand, watching Lucien do the same. Then we shared a look, lowering down to one knee, pressing her knuckles to our brow. I knew the crowd behind us had followed suit.
I had never kneeled for a high lord of the Spring Court. I was Princess of the Night Court. Heir of Velaris. Princess of Dreams. I knelt for no one—certainly not for anyone of the Spring Court. Not now, not ever.
I was not kneeling before Lady Feyre. Or Feyre Cursebreaker. I was kneeling for Feyre High Lady of the Night Court. Feyre that led Prythian from tyranny and darkness. Feyre that saved my mate and thousands of others under the mountain.
“My high lady,” I declared to her. The only person besides my brother I’d ever sworn fealty to.
I looked up at Feyre, our eyes meeting before she looked to Ianthe, smiling a sweet smile, one that transformed to show a bit of that wolf hiding beneath.
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