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barnesunlight · 5 months ago

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what happens in vegas, does not stay in vegas | ch. 01

pairing: oscar piastri x leclerc!reader

summary: down in the dumps after a big loss, your brother charles decides to stay in instead of going out to party, believing his fellow drivers would keep you from doing anything dumb while out on partying on the vegas strip. that was his first mistake. the next morning his wakes up to the news that you’ve went and gotten yourself married, but who could possible be stupid enough to take advantage of charles leclerc’s baby sister?

warnings: talks about men being creeps. drinking. lando and oscar being proper gentlemen, reader's age is not specified but its mentioned she's in her twenties! reader has everyone wrapped around her finger, oscars antisocial.

word count: 5.1k (my best so far)

authors note: okay soooooo, yes i did already post the first chapter of this series, but i hated it, sorry! so i rewrote it and this was the result, i promise this version is so much better, feedback is also appreciated :) enjoy! i also wrote half this while recovering from wisdom teeth removal, so if there’s any misspelling let’s just blame it on that. reblogs, comments, or feedback of any kind is always greatly appreciated!

series masterlist / playlist

next chapter ->

Charles Leclerc was a lame, little, whiny baby, loser. And you would’ve said it to his face…if he wasn’t giving you his card so you can buy drinks and souvenirs all night.

It was the Sunday of the big race in Vegas Nevada, coincidentally the first time you'd been in the States, and like any irresponsible twenty-some-year-old would be, you were more excited about the after-party then the actual race.

"Are you sure you don't want to join?" you shouted towards the hotel bedroom, you had your small setup in the bathroom, you pulled down your dress slightly and adjusted your hair before slowly stepping out of the hotel bathroom.

Charles perked up from his phone, shooting you a small smile, he had placed four in the race, something you found impressive (granted you found anything your big brothers did impressive) while he did not, hence him being a debbie downer and refusing to join you, and his fellow drivers on a night out at the Vegas strip.

"I'm sure, Piccina" Charles sat up, pushing his card towards you on the white bed sheets, "Just be careful?"

You nodded eagerly placing this card carefully into your wallet while smiling at the nickname, Piccina, meaning tiny, it had been your nickname ever since you were little, and him using it gave you the comfort of knowing he wasn't secretly mad at you for ditching him while he was down in the dumps.

"Who's going again?" Charles chimed from behind you as you adjusted yourself in the mirror.

You hummed, thinking, "I know Lando for sure."

Charles snorted, muttering, "That wasn't a question."

"I think Oscar, Carlos..." you paused, hoping you didn't hit a nerve, but he simply nodded, "Max might show up...Franco's a yes, Lance, Fernando, and maybe Pierre?" you turned to him with a smile.

Charles shook his head slightly, "Pierre's staying back with me."

You shot him a funny look, "Date night?"

Charles's laughter rang out in the room, he pulled a pillow from behind him and shot it at you, "You're not funny!"

You stood up, throwing the pillow back at him, "You sure are laughing!"

Two stood around for a few more minutes, with Charles refusing to let you leave out alone, insisting you waited for Lando to pick you up. You groaned, "He's taking forever!"

"I don't care!" he matched your tone, "Its dangerous, you could get mobbed or something."

"And having Lando is going to help that, how?" you rose a brow, and his awkward silence made you smirk in triumph.

He huffed, rolling his eyes, "He won't help with the fans, but he’ll help if some creep tries touching you."

You couldn't argue with that.

Just as you were going to try and argue your way out of the door, again, a small knock rang throughout the room.

You beamed, skipping over to the door, as you opened the door, Lando snapped his head up, a whistle leaving his lips, "Looking good, Leclerc!" he cheered as stepped into the room slightly. You smiled as you gave him a slight spin.

"Thanks Lando," Charles joked, you slapped his arm slightly, rolling your eyes, "You know he was talking about me."

Charles rolled his eyes as he and Lando 'bro-hugged' while you went around the room making sure you had everything you needed.

'"Okay, I'm ready!" you cheered, walking over to the two men. Charles nodded, looking you over once more, Lando made his way out the door.

"You got everything?" Charles checked, you nodded brightly, leaning over to give him a hug, "Phone? Charger? Bandaids? Condom?—“

"Charles!" you shrieked, feeling your body heat up as you heard Lando's faint giggle.

Charles held his hands up in defense, "I don't like talking about it either, but I rather you be safe."

You groaned, taking small steps towards the door, "Yes, Charles I have everything."

Charles smiled, holding the door open for you and you stepped out and stood by Lando, "Good. And remember if you need anything, call me."

"Sir yes, sir!" you saluted jokingly.

Charles turned to Lando, "Keep her safe, alright?"

"Sir yes, sir!" Lando mocked you, Charles rolled his eyes as you and Lando burst into laughter.

"Very funny.." was the last thing he muttered before shutting the door in your face.

☾

You and Lando walked side by side in the busy streets of Las Vegas, your eyes shone brightly as you took in the new scenery. When you were younger you didn't necessarily get to travel much because all the extra money went to karting and competitions.

You never complained, even when you had to give up your own dream of being a Formula One driver so Charles could have his chance. He was a great talent, everyone in the family recognized that, and you eventually got over your silly dream.

Since that day when you were ripped apart from your passion, Charles promised he would grant every wish you ever wanted. ‘We’ll go the States and eat everything!—And I’ll buy you everything because I’ll have money from Ferrari!’ he said as he wiped your tears from your puffy cheeks. You knew he only said that because he felt it was his fault you didn’t get to live out your dream. And although you would never admit it to anyone, because it made you feel like a horrible sister, sometimes you did resent the decision made by your family— you had talent too. Why was Charles the only one who got the chance to be great?

"Never been to Vegas?" Lando's voice cut through the silence, he was carrying bags and bags of all types of items, clothes, souvenirs, jewelry, you name it. You had really gone crazy. Since you had about an hour to waste until you were all supposed to meet up, you decided to get all your shopping done early.

You had wanted to hold the bags, but Lando instead he do it, saying it was the 'gentlemen' thing to do.

"No." you breathed out with a smile, "I don't get all the hate this place gets, it's beautiful."

Lando snorted, "I've never heard that said about Vegas before."

"People aren't as deep and sentimental as me Lando, you should know that by now," you wiped a fake tear from your eye and Lando burst into laughter.

You smiled, eyeing the bags in his hands once again, "Are you sure we shouldn't take this stuff back to the hotel?"

Lando nodded, pulling the bags closer to him, "We have a private area in the club, we can put them there."

You 'oohed', "Private area huh?"

"Only the best for Ms. Leclerc," he smirked.

"Oh please," you laughed, "You just don't want anyone to record you getting wasted."

"Okay, maybe that too."

You shook your head as you and Lando crossed the street, you caught a glimpse at the club down the strip, "So who's officially going?"

"I know Oscars going."

"Because you bribed him?"

"Yes."

You and Lando both giggled, swerving in between people, "Carlos is going..." Lando eyes you carefully.

You held your hand up, "What happens with Charles and Carlos on track is none of my business...plus they're like a bipolar couple, they'll be back to charlos in no time."

Lando thought for a second before nodding, "That's why carlando is better."

You shook your head with a smile and Lando continued, "George is going, so is Alonso, Max, Franco, Yuki, and Lance."

"No Alex?" you questioned.

Lando shook his head, "He said he's taking Lily on a 'supes romantic vegas date."

You awed, before frowning, "I need a boyfriend."

Lando smirked, turning to you, "You know I have the perfect guy—“

"Lando!" you heard a familiar accent shout near you. Both you and Lando snapped your head up to see Carlos waving widely at you two, while the others pretended not to know him.

"Carlos!" Lando shouted, lifting his arms up, the multitude of bags almost smacking you in the face.

You would think they hadn't seen each other in years with the way they embraced each other, you could only watch in amusement before you felt a slight tap on your shoulder.

Turning around you came face to face with Oscar Piastri, he just got cuter each day, "Hi." he mumbled as he pulled you into a soft hug. "I didn't see you today, and I didn’t want you thinking I was being rude or avoiding you.”

"You? Rude? Never," you mumbled with a smile and he patted your back softly, "I didn't think you would make it.." you pulled back and he shot you a questioning look, "I don't mean to offend but this doesn't seem like your type of place."

Oscar smiled, and you two started to make your way into the booming club, with Oscar's hand resting on your back, you made sure to greet everyone with a smile.

"It's not!" he yelled so you could hear him, while also making sure he wasn't too close to your ear. "Lando bribed me!"

You nodded, laughing, "Yeah he told me! How much did he give you?"

Oscar's face burned red—not that you could see it—"It wasn't really a..money bribe!"

You turned to him confused, but before you could ask him to clarify, you were both halted when Lando seemingly appeared out of nowhere, making you both pause.

Lando already seemed off his rocker, eyes moving side to side widely, "I'm going to get drinks!" he yelled, shoving all of your bags into Oscar's arms, who took them in surprise, "Our area is over there—" both you and Oscar turned to where he was pointing simultaneously, "Have fun okay?" he shot you two a big thumbs up before getting lost in the crowd.

You and Oscar both stood still for a moment before you slowly turned to each other, "How is he already drunk?" you asked, trying to take the bags from Oscar's hands, but he simply swerved around you, nodding up to where Lando pointed previously.

"I can take those, you know?" You yelled over to Oscar as you started climbing the stairs up to the top portion of the club, you could hear the big change in volume as you got higher.

Oscar gave you a funny look, "What type of man would I be if I let you carry these heavy bags?"

You didn't have an answer. It was a big culture shock when you realized men weren't exactly like your brothers, your brothers always treated you like gold. But once you went out to the real world, you were quick to realize that was not the norm.

Oscar took a slight peak into the bag, "What exactly did you buy?"

"Lots of things with my name on it," you laughed, taking a seat on the sofa next to the big group of drivers, who all acknowledged your existence with a smile. You watched as Oscar followed in your steps, taking a seat next to you, his knee touching yours.

"Examples?"

"You name it... license plate, shirts, bracelets, necklace."

"A true Vegas staple." Oscar nodded in approval, turning his whole body toward you.

You beamed, turning toward him as well, eager to keep to conversation going, "So...how do you feel about the race?"

Oscar laughed slightly, taking a peek behind you, "Probably a lot better than your brother."

You nodded with a pursed smile, "Probably,"

"Is that why's he's not here?"

You shrugged slightly, "Maybe. He said he just wasn't feeling it, but who knows?"

"Do you think they'll stay mad at each other for long?" Oscar's voice was now a quiet whisper, clearly trying to avoid attention.

You shook your head, "We have a flight back home tomorrow night, they'll be fine by then." you know that because you had told Charles that if they didn't fix their problem before said flight, you wouldn't be going home with them, you could not deal with that awkwardness. And Charles would do anything for you, so of course he and Carlos were going to make up.

Oscar perked up, smiling at you, "I'm going home on that flight too."

Your face lit up, "You live in Monaco now right?"

Oscar nodded bashfully, he had made the move early that year, during the ‘Leclerc-Piastri adopted son’ situation. He was very quiet about it, so he didn’t expect you to know about it—or frankly, care. “Y-yeah, I thought it would be better with all the traveling.”

“And the tax-evading.”

Oscar let out a loud laugh, no doubt catching the attention of others scattered around the room, you watched him cackle with a smile. “How are you liking it?” you asked.

Oscar sobered down slightly, a grin still present, “It’s not home…but it’s….Monaco.”

You threw your head back with a smile, “It’s better when you get past all the cars and celebrities.”

Oscar nodded, “One of my first days I went hiking," you remember seeing the picture he posted, all sweaty, your eyes widened at the memory, and you shifted flustered "It was nice."

"I can show you some better places if you'd like?

"Really?" Oscar's eyes were wide, full of excitement.

You nodded proudly, "Of course, I've given everyone here a tour of the city, I'm a great guide if I do say so myself."

The lights in Oscar's eyes diminished slightly, for a second, there, he thought he was special, he coughed awkwardly, "Oh yeah?"

You eyed the group behind you, "Since everyone here apparently loves tax evading, I've taken it upon myself to teach them about my home."

Oscar giggled slightly and you contained, raising your brow, "I'm surprised I haven't seen you around, I see George at least three times a week."

Oscar flushed, and this time he was sure you could tell, "Oh I..." he sucked his teeth, "I.. don't really leave my house."

You started at him with squinted eyes for a moment, "...Because of the fans?"

"No...no."

"Because you don't have a car?" you asked, recalling the photo of him riding a bike around the city months ago, you would've thought he would've bought a car since then, or at least borrowed one.

"I have a car."

You laughed in confusion, "Okay then why?"

Oscar shrugged, playing with the ends of his sweater, "I just don't really like to go out."

"Like ever?"

"I go to... grocery stores."

"Oh, Oscar..." you sighed, and the man jumped to defend himself.

"I play sim a lot!...and that's like talking to people?..."

You winced, "Is it though?"

Oscar sighed, looking down at his lap, "...No..."

You pursed your lips, patting his knew softly, "Its okay Oscar...I'll make sure you go out more."

Before he could respond, Lando's loud cheers emerged from the staircase, and Oscar felt your attention slip away from him.

"I'm back, and I bring drinks!" Lando shouted as he hurried over to the group, a tray filled with drinks in his hands. The others cheered. The drink was purple, and it seemed to be fizzling as everyone took one.

"What is this?" Lance blinked up at Lando, who shrugged, Fernando took a small sniff before pulling back in shock; the others looked at him in worry, as he coughed, waving everyone off.

"I have no idea!" Lando yelled, and the other slowly started to put the drink down, "The bartender just told me it would make us forget who won the race tonight!"

Just like that, everyone had picked their glasses back up and quickly swallowed down the drink. Georges's face went black as he rolled his eyes, taking a small sip of his drink, "Assholes.." he whispered.

☾

"You have really pretty eyes..." Oscar slurred as he watched you lay down on the couch, he sat on the floor, legs crossed over each other as he stared into your face.

You hummed, "People say me and Charles have the same eyes..."

Oscar blinked, "Charles has pretty eyes..."

There was no one left awake in the 'private' area, the men were either down on the dance floor, or asleep on the ground, such as Lance, Franco, and Yuki.

The drink had no effect at first, so everyone felt confident drinking another....and another...and another, and before anyone knew it, everyone was far gone, way far gone.

You giggled, bringing a drunken smile onto Oscar's face. You continued to giggle before your face turned serious.

You turned to Oscar with a glare, Oscar visibly jumped, "Do you have a girlfriend, Oscar?"

Gaping in shock, Oscar shook his head like crazy.

Your glare hardened, "I'm gonna need you to say it."

"I don't have a girlfriend." Oscar replied instantly.

You stared for a couple more moments before a bright grin took over your face, "Thank god!" you giggled before turning serious once more, "It seems like everyone is dating someone, and it makes me feel lonely." You quickly (with a small struggle) sat up from the couch, grabbing Oscar's hand.

“At least you don't have a girlfriend.”

Oscar, the most out of it he's ever been, swayed side to side, “I want to be your girlfriend.” he mumbled, pressing a soft, delicate kiss to your hand.

You giggled, throwing your head back, “Not girlfriend! Boyfriend silly…and I don't think whiny baby Charles would like that…”

Oscar sat up straight, “I don't care what Charles thinks,” he did, he really, really, did. “He shouldn't control your life.” In any other situation, Oscar would never say anything like this, in fact, one of the primary reasons he never man up and asked you out (other than the fact that he was sure you did not like him that way) was because he wasn't sure Charles would approve. And if he didn’t have Charles’ approval, then what was the point in even trying?

“He just thinks he knows best,” you mumbled through a frown. “He doesn't control me…does he?”

Oscar slipped his hands away from you, moving his arms widely “No! No…I’m dumb, Charles would never control you..”

But it seemed like you weren’t listening anymore, your eyes dazed, “If Charles does control me, then I should do something to get him back..” you turned to Oscar with a glare, he knew you well, you were thinking of ways to get back at Charles..for something he didn’t even do. “For being evil…”

Oscar laughed, shaking his head, “Charles isn't evil!” You joined him in the laughter. Before your face went blank, “What were we talking about?”

Oscar decided not to indulge in your evil sibling rivalry plans, “You were telling me how you wanted a boyfriend.”

You gaped, pointing at Oscar, “You're right! You know Oscar…you would be the perfect boyfriend!”

Oscar's cheeks went pink, “I would?” he mumbled bashfully.

You nodded proudly, “Mhm..you are very respectful..you've never stared at my ass, unlike some of the drivers..” Oscar’s mouth opened in shock with a million questions running through his mind, but you didn’t give him time to react, “And you're funny, not like joke funny,” Oscar tried to not let an offended expression take over his face, “But like expression funny. And I’m sure you’d give the best kisses…and! You look like you’d never forget an anniversary.”

Not to toot his own horn, but you're right, Oscar had a great memory, and if it was your anniversary, he would never forget it.

You’re face lights, “I have the best idea!” you squealed, standing up and pulling Oscar up with you, you both stumbled. You pulled on his jacket, bringing you face to face, “We should get married!”

The grin on Oscar’s face was electric, “Yes!” he shouted, accidentally waking up Yuki, who shot up from the cuddle pile on the ground with wide eyes, you two were too focused on your own bubble to notice him.

You gasped, gripping onto Oscar tighter, “Really? You’ll marry me?”

Oscar gripped onto your shoulders, shaking you back and forth tightly, “Of course I would! I’m not stupid!”

“Oh I have to tell Charles! He can’t miss my wedding!”

Oscar nodded, watching with a beaming smile as you pulled out your phone, opening it up before you slowly put it down with a frown.

“I can’t tell Charles.” your eyes unintentionally watered, “He won’t let me.” You slowly sat down on the small couch.

Oscar slowly sat next to you, trying to hide his dimmed energy, “Don’t worry about..” he mumbled, “I can wait.” I’ve already waited six years, he thought, what’s a couple more?

“But you shouldn’t have to wait!’ You groaned, quickly standing up, “We’re getting married tonight!” You stomped your foot, “I’ll just take lots of pictures so Charlie doesn’t miss it!”

Oscar’s light returned, he accepted the hand you held out for him, “Let’s go get married, Oscar!’ you cheered, leading him down the club stairs.

Yucki watched you two leave, his face full of confusion, he groaned, laying back onto the ground while rubbing his eyes, “Married? Charles is going to kill him.”

☾

“I still can’t believe you let the little princess go out without you,” Pierre mumbled through his bites of popcorn.

Charles rolled his eyes, grabbing another handful of the cornels, “She doesn’t have to be with me all the time, she’s growing up and wants to go out alone.”

“Okay…but with Lando?”

“Lando wouldn’t dare touch her. He knows I would throw him into the barriers.”

Pierre and Charles were lying in bed, a popcorn bucket lay in the middle of them, while a french romance movie played in the background.

Pierre nodded after a pause “You know who I’m worried about?”

Charles leaned over to look at the man, “Who?”

“That Australian creep.”

Charles furrowed his brow,”...Daniel?’

Pierre shot him a look, “No, not Daniel. Oscar.”

Charles shot up with a choked laugh, “O-oscar?” he threw his head back with a loud laugh, “O-oscar?”

Pierre watched him with an unamused face, waiting for him to sober, which took longer than you would think.

“Oscar?” Charles shook his head with a smile as he laid back down, “No..Oscar…” he giggled, “No.”

Pierre scoffed, “You underestimate him..I’ve seen it,” Pierre’s eyes unfocused, “He is always staring.”

Charles shrugged, throwing up a kurnell before catching it in his mouth, “Piccina is pretty…people always stare.”

Pierra shook his head sharply, “No…Oscar stares like he is trying to read her mind or something.. I’m telling you Charles, he is creepy.”

Charles waved him off, “Trust me. Oscar is the last person who would do something to piccina.”

☾

“I still think this is a bad idea..” Lando slurred as he took off his shirt lazily.

Max nodded in agreement, pulling up his suit pants, “Mhmm..” his head rolled back as he giggled, “Charles is going to blow up,” he made a boom sound.

“At least Oscar finally grew his balls and asked her out...” Lando giggled, looking over to where you and Oscar stood near the chapel. Oscar was adjusting your veil while you played with his tie.

“Does it count if they're both drunk?” Max asked.

Lando thought for a moment, “Maybe..”

After dragging Oscar down to the dance floor, you two found Max and Lando, who you both let know of your plans to get married. You only needed one of them (to be a witness) so you could legally get married. But they both insisted on joining you.

You and Oscar were going all out (as out as you could be with a notice of maybe forty minutes) and that included a dress, veil, and suits for Oscar and the groomsmen (Max and Lando)

“You look gorgeous..” Oscar sighed, gazing down into your eyes.

“You look good too,” You giggled, tightening and untightening his tie. Maybe it was the nerves of doing something so taboo, but you needed something to fidget with.

“Are you sure about this?” Oscar asked, looking behind as the Elvis priest started to set up his whole thing.

“Yeah..” you sighed. In another situation you would’ve never even brought up the conversation of you being lonely, much less getting married in a Vegas chapel, but you were completely out of it, and to be fair, so was Oscar, Max, and Lando.

Speaking of which, the two groomsmen made their way over to you, and patted Oscar on the shoulder, “It’s time.” Lando sang slightly, pushing Oscar to stand on the side of the Elvis priest. Lando followed after him.

Max grinned down at you, giving you, “You ready?” he giggled.

You beamed, wrapping your arm around him as ‘here comes the bride’ started playing softly.”Sure am!”

☾

There was something so scary about waking up in a room you didn't recognize.

The light was blinding, and it just made your hangover headache ten times worse. You groaned, squinting as you slowly sat up from the unrecognizable bed.

Panicked, you looked around the room–it was trashed, with bottles of wine, and bed sheets scattered everywhere. In terror you looked down at yourself, letting out a sigh of relief at the sight of your clothes still on your body. It was not your clothes, fitting at least five times too big, but still, you took that as a good sign.

Slowly you inched off the bed, and there you noticed there was someone else in the bed, face down, with his arms sprawled out. It was a man. You panicked for a moment, he couldn't be dead, could he?

Carefully, you walked around the bed and squatted to take a look at who it was, the sight made your stomach churn, "Oscar?" you whispered to yourself.

What were you doing in Oscar Piastri's room of all places?

Omg, had he kidnapped you? You laughed to yourself. No, it was more likely that you kidnapped him.

Shaking your head, you decided to leave, the horror it would be if anyone caught you leaving Oscar’s room, the media would go crazy, you’d have to figure this all out later. You stared at him for a small second before making your way to the room, accidentally crushing a piece of paper that lay on the ground.

You winced, turning to make sure the sound did not wake Oscar up, it didn't. With a sigh of relief, you tiptoed out of the room, missing the wedding dress that was neatly hung on the door.

As you stumbled through the hotel hallway, you felt all kinds of dirty. Yes, you still had clothes on, but that did not necessarily mean you two didn't do anything. Yikes. You just prayed that Charles hadn't heard anything about this.

It was in this moment that you thanked Carlos Sainz, their small fight was the reason Charles didn’t go out. It was more than likely he didnt see anything.

Taking your hotel room key out of your bra (safe keeping), you turned the corner of the hotel, gasping in horror at who you saw pacing up and down your room door. Your brother, Charles.

His head snapped up at the sound of the gasp, his eyes red and swollen. He did not waste any time running over to you, his pupils were wild as he scanned you up and down multiple times, he was rambling in French, making your head spin by the sheer volume of his voice.

You shushed him, squinting, "Charles.. calm down please."

He pulled you in a tight hug, "Calm down? How can I calm down! You disappeared and didn’t answer your phone, and I have to find out through Instagram that you got married!" Pause.

You pulled back from the hug, feeling the room spin, "What?" you whispered, although he didnt seem to hear you.

"And listen mon cœur, if you love him then it's okay. We're not mad—just, why didn't you tell us?" He looked down at you with a frown.

You shook your head violently, holding up a finger,

"No no, Charles, what are you talking about?" His sadness quickly turned to confusion, "You got married?"

Your eyes went comically wide, "What!?" you yelled, not caring about your volume.

Charles took a step back, "You disappeared all night and Max posted to social media pictures of your wedding! I thought it was a joke but then you disappeared all night. You.. don't remember?"

"No Charles I don't fucking remember!" you shouted in horror, patting yourself down for your phone, just your luck, it wasn't on you.

"Oh my god.." you groaned, shutting your eyes."What's wrong? You don't remember getting married to your secret boyfriend?"

You looked up at your brother blankly, "Charles, I don't have a secret boyfriend."

Charles tilted his head, slowly speaking, "...Then who did you marry?"

You chose not to answer, letting him piece the puzzle together himself.

"You got married to a stranger? What is wrong with you?”

"I was drunk!" you threw your arms up in defense.

"Oh, you were drunk!" Charles asked ironically, "I get drunk all the time and I don't get married to random strangers!"

"You act like I wanted this to happen!" You two bickered, not noticing the awkward Australian slowly making his way towards you two.

"Well, you don't seem as freaked out as you should be!" Charles shouted.

"I'm still processing this!" you whined, stomping your feet, just then you two heard a cough. You swiveled around only to come face to face with Oscar, his pale cheeks lit with fire, "Oscar," you smiled, nudging Charles.

Charles looked up at Oscar in confusion, giving him an unsure smile.

"Sorry to interrupt," Oscar rubbed the back of his neck, before presenting two items, your phone, and a piece of slightly crumbled paper,

You gasped, taking the phone with a smile, but before you could thank him, Charles spoke up,

"Why do you have her phone?" his voice was low, and no amusement was present.

You looked at Oscar with wide eyes, shaking your head slightly, Charles could not find out that you two had spent the night together, no way he would take that well.

With all the ruckus, you yourself hadn’t managed to piece the biggest puzzle together. Maybe if you were in a better headspace and realized that it was Oscar who you had drunkenly married, you would have stopped Oscar from even being near Charles.

Oscar swallowed thickly, blinking, before he could even mutter a word, the paper in his hands was ripped away. The panic was clear on his face, as he tried to reach for it, but to no avail.

You watched in confusion as Oscar clearly started to panic, you glanced back at your brother who was staring down at the piece of paper with never seen before anger.

"What is it?" you mumbled, looking down at his hands, it was a certificate, you slowly read it, dreadfulness morphing quickly.

This document certifies OSCAR JACK PIASTRI & Y/N LECLERC, were united in marriage in the LITTLE LAS VEGAS WEDDING CHAPEL.

Oh shit.

Charles glanced between you and Oscar, whose mouth was pressed tightly.

"You took advantage of my sister?" Charles whispered, and Oscar's eyes widened along with yours.

"No, Charles–" you tried, but Charles had already crumpled the marriage certificate and thrown it to the side.

"You took advantage of my sister?!" Charles yelled, and the next thing you knew, Charles was on top of Oscar, his fist landing on the laters beautiful face.

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handlemehyuck · 5 months ago

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bf dreamies 𓍼 dating a full-time student

꩜ i received a request on my main blog, but it honestly feels weird to post there for nct now lol, so i decided to let it live here >.< thank you for requesting, anon 🤍 happy reading!

mark: he brings you lunch during your shifts at the library. he melts watching you run down the stairs, skipping to his car because you know his adoring gaze is locked on you. the excitement twirls you, and he laughs in the driver’s seat, observing the curious students, probably wondering what on earth is up with this girl. they’d understand if they knew her boyfriend was here. her very busy boyfriend with her favorite food and a kiss to give. a few kisses. as many as she has time for.

renjun: he thinks you’re incredible. he finds your major fascinating and has shown more interest in your studies than anyone else in your life. he quizzes you with your stack of flashcards, throwing in spontaneous questions to make you laugh. he reads over essays. he asks about your lectures, curious to know what the most interesting part was. he loves it when you text him after an exam, confident you crushed it, and gracious for his help, but he always says: no, baby. that was all you.

jeno: you stay up late together. he plays video games and you sit at the desk he built beside his gaming setup. you wear one of his AirPods, attention focused on your laptop screen and the opened textbooks around you. he stopped playing an hour ago and is admiring you, but you haven’t a clue. he leans over to kiss your temple, asking if you’d like some water or tea. all you do is nod, and he laughs. “which one, baby?” “hmm?” “water or tea?” “whichever’s easiest.” your eyebrows furrow, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you flip back a few pages. “i’ll make tea.”

haechan: you’re in an online grad program that’s kicking your ass, so anytime you’re on break, he spoils the hell out of you. you’ve been flown to cities across the world after exam season to sing and dance in arenas and experience top-tier stress relief. when deadlines are compressing, he cooks for you and pulls you away from your desk to eat with him. he’s supportive and sweet but intense about your health. you’re a perfectionist, and he’s received far too many texts from you in the middle of the night like it’s normal to completely disregard rest. your favorite thing to do is nap with him, or feel his fingers in your hair while he watches tv at a quiet volume so you can rest.

jaemin: a part of him—and maybe he doesn’t admit this—is living vicariously through you. any opportunity he has to pick you up after class is taken, and he finds himself leaning forward against the steering wheel to get a better view of the students passing by. the campus is slow and quiet before erupting into a sea of bobbing heads and heavy backpacks as another morning class ends; they navigate the rush like it was choreographed. in another life, he wonders if your paths still would’ve crossed. if you would’ve spent every waking hour studying together in the library, at cafes, in the grass outside the science building once spring’s warmth is delicious. when he sees you, he slides back into reality, feeling the leather beneath him, and smiles widely through his window.

chenle: when he finds out you’re on the uni’s club soccer team, he asks for your game schedule. there’s a twitter page that posts updates, so he makes an account for the sole purpose of following it. his liked tweets are filled with every goal you scored and assist you made; he replies too: that’s my girl!! he has your last name on a sweatshirt that he wears to every game he can make, a mask covering his face, and sunglasses covering his eyes. he loves greeting you after games, your lips still parted, catching your breath. your cheeks are red from the excursion. flyaways frame your face, ponytail messy and much looser, so much looser than it was when you ate breakfast together hours earlier. you unravel the hair tie in his car, run your fingers through your hair, and contemplate what you want for dinner. his treat.

jisung: he’s your safe haven. his apartment is your oasis. his heart lurches whenever you text him about heading over, even if you know he won’t be home for hours. his demeanor always shifts slightly when he knows you’re at his place, and he can’t be there. he always texts back, wondering if you’re ok, and hoping you were just seeking a different environment to study in. when he gets home, sometimes you’re still studying. other days, you’re asleep in his bed or standing in the kitchen in one of his t-shirts with wet hair, waiting for the kettle to whistle. he wishes you’d just move in with him, knowing it wouldn’t only save you money, but he craves your presence. he sleeps better when you’re in his bed, and he prefers to know you’re eating. it warms his heart to see your folded figure studying on his couch, taking short breaks to peer out the window. he takes your picture, sometimes calling your name and catching a soft smile and warm eyes on film.

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rosielovesf1 · 1 year ago

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spilling secrets on stream | LN4

what better place to hard launch a relationship than twitch?

word count: 1.3k

warnings: none!

author's note: it's been so fun thinking up little story ideas and this is the product of one of them. fair warning that it's been forever since i've played fortnite so probably not very accurate when it comes to that 🤦‍♀️ thank youuu for reading and have a great day!!

also my requests are open if you would like to see a certain story/driver!! 🫶

“Hi guys, sorry I’m late,” Lando said, adjusting his headphones as he started the stream. There were a surprising number of people online for this Thursday afternoon, but he had posted on his story that Max would be joining him, so that could explain the popularity. Not that he would ever tell him that.

“Max is joining now.” He stretched his arms over his head, smirking when the chat quickly noticed the sliver of skin he’d exposed in the simple motion. Oops. “Is Max with you right now? No, chat, I’m in Monaco. How’s offseason? It’s good. I’ve been doing a whole lot of nothing.”

Lando read through and answered a couple more questions until Max’s face popped up on his screen.

“Hello hello,” Max said, waving to the camera. “How are we, chat? What are we playing?”

After a couple minutes of debate, they decided on Fortnite. The first round was short lived- Lando got shot pretty much immediately. Now, him and Max were two of ten players remaining, but the sound of the front door opening caused him to turn his focus away from the game.

“y/n?” Lando called out after muting himself, turning away from the screen to see if his girlfriend had just arrived home.

“Bro, what are you doing?” Max protested, his character running circles around Lando’s still one. Two other characters spotted them over a nearby hill and started firing immediately, with Max left alone to defend them. “You muppet!” Within seconds, Lando had died, and Max didn’t have enough time to resuscitate him in the midst of defending himself.

“My bad.” Lando turned back to the screen, laughing at Max’s distress.

“That was entirely your fault.” Max responded, pausing to look at his phone alert from Lando.

I think y/n just got back and she doesn’t know I’m on stream. Can you stay on until I get back?

Even though Lando and his girlfriend were practically living together at this point, staying at each other’s homes almost every night during the offseason, they were yet to make it official in the eyes of the public. Max knew this better than everyone- often having to cover for the couple when they weren’t cautious enough- and smirked as he typed back a yes. Lando took that as a sign to communicate his exit. “Be right back, chat. Don’t be too mean to Max while I’m gone.”

He opened and shut the door to the room behind him, padding down the soft carpet runner of the hallway. “y/n?” Her bright pink trainers were by the front door, and seeing as he could hear the shower down the hall, she must’ve just come back from a run.

All of a sudden, music started blasting- a Doja Cat song, Lando knew from y/n's time on the aux whenever they were in the car together.

“y/n,” Lando laughed, knocking on the bathroom door, “I’m on stream darling.” It wasn’t that he minded the noise, or that the chat would know very quickly that there was a girl in his house (he wasn’t really the Doja Cat type). If it were up to him, he would’ve posted y/n the day they had made it official, four months ago. But they’d decided to wait a bit and enjoy the privacy.

No response still. He tried the bathroom door handle but it was locked. She must’ve not known he was coming home, Lando thought cheekily to himself. Otherwise, it would’ve been open. He gave up and retreated back to the room with his setup, shooting a quick text over to y/n that he was home.

Lando settled back into his chair, turning the camera on. “Alright, chat, I’m back. Sorry to leave you with Max.”

Max raised an eyebrow at the music that filtered in through Lando’s mic, choosing not to comment on it. The chat wasn’t as sly though, with every other comment questioning the source.

“Didn’t know Lando was a Doja Cat fan. I’m not.” The ambiguous comment sparked even more questions, and Lando just shook his head jokingly as they started another game. As he died for a third time, Max cursing and threatening to find someone better to play with, the music cut and the distant sound of the shower running stopped.

“Lando?” y/n called out, freezing as she read over his text in the hallway. Lando’s eyes widened and he quickly muted himself, sliding his headphones off. As he stood up he heard y/n's footsteps nearing the door and managed to shut the camera off just in time.

Lando pulled open the door and the scent of coconut and hibiscus floated in. y/n looked up at him with wide eyes in sweatpants and a stolen Quadrant t-shirt, her hair still wet from the shower.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t realize that you were streaming.” She peeked over his shoulder and her eyes widened at the rapidly scrolling chat, the viewers going crazy about the distinctly female voice they’d overheard. Max had given up at pretending to ignore them and had shut off his camera as well, only adding to the viewers assumptions.

He pulled her into a hug, mumbling “You smell good.” into her hair as a way of greeting. She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed tightly, rocking back and forth.

“Did they hear me?”

“Yeah.” They shuffled over to the computer together, her almost afraid to read the chat that was still scrolling at a million miles a minute. Lando read out one comment that said “can Lando’s girlfriend fight?” and raised a questioning eyebrow at the girl next to him.

“Heck yeah. Look at these muscles. Try me.” She bounced back and forth on her heels, hands up in a boxing stance.

Lando laughed at her, locking her in a headlock that she quickly wiggled out of. “Not fair,” she whined. “Caught me by surprise.”

He pulled her in front of him to straighten out the locks of hair he’d mussed, and kissed her forehead before looking down at her. “What if we told them about us right now?”

“You think?” She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, and he ran a gentle thumb over it to get her to stop.

“I think they’re going to love you as much as I do.” She leaned into him at that statement, and he watched her eyes as she seemed to process his statement.

“Alright,” she still looked hesitant, but brightened up as she opened her mouth to speak again. “I’m already wearing the right shirt and everything.”

“Quadrants #1 fan.” He smiled, pulling her over to the computer. They split the chair so that both of them could sit, and she draped her legs comfortably over his. He rested one hand on her thigh, using the other to restart the stream. “Ready?”

She nodded, and all of a sudden they were back online.

“Hi, chat.” Lando smiled, laughing as the comments started pouring in. “I’ve been meaning to introduce you to someone. This is my girlfriend, y/n.”

“Hi, everyone,” y/n said, sporting a smile to match her boyfriend’s. “How are you doing?”

“Finally.” Max let out a sigh, clicking his camera back on.

“Thanks for covering for us, Max.” The trio sat and talked for a little bit, y/n answering questions for her from the chat that Lando pointed out every once in a while. They eventually turned the game back on, y/n holding her own and often outranking Max and Lando. In the midst of waiting for a new game to load, Lando wrapped an arm around her waist, squeezing her side.

“I’m so glad I get to show you off now.”

@landonorris: kiss me more 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

@y/nl/n: cat’s out of the bag 🤭

#f1 fanfic #f1 x y/n #mclaren f1 #f1 fic #lando norris fluff #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris #f1 x reader

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beckwritesfiction · 2 months ago

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Forbidden Lab Partners

pairing: Isaac Lahey x Female Reader

word count: 2.4k

warnings: Minors, do not interact! brief mentions of reader being abducted, porn with a plot, reader is a virgin, teen angst, mutual masturbation, dry humping, setup for part two

author's note: This is my first request in a while, but I did promise this to an anonymous reader months ago. See the post here. I'm inspired again, so here it is! This wasn't beta read, so excuse any errors. I was my own beta reader, which sometimes means missing a few mistakes.

It was hard for you to wrap your head around Scott McCall, the guy who you grew up with, being a werewolf. Your twin brother, Stiles, was his best friend, and it meant you were around him a lot. It was hard for Stiles and Scott to hide the truth from you for as long as they did, but Stiles thought it was for the best, and kept the secret to protect you. It was easier when you knew the truth, especially when it came to covering for Stiles with your dad.

Isaac Lahey wasn’t a stranger to you. He was your lab partner first and, at the command of Derek to get leverage over Scott and Stiles, your kidnapper for a short period of time. Scott saving you and Stiles’ crisis about what would’ve happened had you gotten hurt was how you found out the truth about werewolves. It also made you fear Isaac, which you didn’t think was possible. He was the nice, quiet guy who was way better at science than you. There were many times when you noticed the bruises, but you were far too afraid to bring it up.

His sharp turn from quiet loner to bad werewolf was disappointing to you—no matter how many times he insisted that Derek told him, Erica, and Boyd that they shouldn’t actually hurt you. It had been weeks since the incident, and the last thing you heard about Isaac was from Stiles: he was staying with Scott.

Your lab partner was sick, and instead of sitting with someone from the lacrosse team like he had for a while, Isaac sat beside you.

“Hey,” he said, his tone resembling the Isaac you knew; not the one Derek had created.

“Hi,” you replied, deciding it was best to leave it at that. He had something to say, and it was best to let him say it.

“I know I’m not really supposed to talk to you after what happened, so I’m sorry if I’m bothering you. I just… I wanted you to know that I wasn’t really thinking about anything other than doing what I was told. I didn’t realize I had a choice until Scott showed me that I do. I’m sorry about what I did. I should’ve told you we were going to hurt you when I took you that day.”

“I’m not that good of an actress, so I probably would’ve ruined your plan.”

“I’m still really sorry. You were the nicest person to me before people started noticing me. I was too afraid to talk to you back then beyond mitochondria and bacteria. I wish I would’ve.”

“That would’ve made it harder for me to forgive you.”

“You forgive me?” he asked hopefully.

“Everyone makes mistakes. Probably not on such a large scale, but not everyone has the problems you have. So sure,” you assured him. “And now the tables have turned. Well, maybe not. No one ever noticed me. Then or now. It’s the Stilinski curse.”

“I did,” Isaac admitted. “I do.”

All you could do was look at him. You were so surprised. Isaac wasn’t sure how to interpret the look on your face, so he added very quickly, “Sorry. I didn’t intend on making a move when I came over here. I really just wanted to tell you that I regret what I did, and I’m sorry. And if I could do it all over again, I’d be the one saving you, not throwing you in the back of a car.”

“Oh, so you’re making a move?” you asked with a smile. His smile was uncontrollable, and he had to look away at the board.

“You probably shouldn’t. Stiles said you’re not allowed to talk to me. And I’d definitely have a hard time following that rule if you asked me to hang out with you.”

“You wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from meeting me later to work on our project together? We’re lab partners again, right?”

“I don’t have a car, so you’d have to pick me up,” you said, your heart beating quickly. He made you nervous, and it would be a lie if you said he always made you this nervous. He was cute before, but now there was something so different about him. The bite that turned him into a werewolf not only gave him confidence, but a few more inches in height, and possibly even more toned arms. You went to all of Stiles’ games, even if he warmed the bench most of the time. You’d noticed Isaac’s arms before. And they were very different post-bite.

“I don’t, either,” he replied, looking a little conflicted.

“You’re… what you are now,” you decided to say, resisting the urge to say werewolf in public. “If you really want to, you’ll find a way to my house. My dad’s working overtime right now, and Stiles asked me to cover for him in case Dad comes home early. That means he’ll be out super late.”

“Yeah,” he said with a nod, biting back a smile.

The first time he was in your room, there was a certain tension that neither of you could ignore. He kept his distance, and you appreciated that at first. You actually did your work, and he helped you even when you didn’t need it. It became a regular thing, and you met so many nights in a row that you did most of the project when you still had weeks before the due date.

On the fifth night, he moved your hair out of your face when you were reading beside him on your bed.

“Do I scare you?” he asked. You hadn’t flinched, but your lack of effort in finding ways to touch him was a little discouraging.

“For a while you did. But it wasn’t just you. It was a really fucked up way of learning that your brother’s best friend, who’s really like a brother at this point, is a werewolf, and so is your lab partner, and that guy with a beard that sometimes shows up for reasons that aren’t obvious to you.” You rambled on a normal basis, but you rambled even more when you were nervous. “It was just a lot for a while. But no, you don’t scare me.”

“Were you just waiting for me to make the first move, then?”

You averted your gaze, laughing nervously. “I don’t really… I mean, maybe. Yeah, I guess so.”

“You just tried to say like three things at once and all of them are confusing to me. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to hang out with me like this.”

“I’ve just never really hung out with anyone in any capacity other than the literal sense of just hanging out. So when you look at me and make the world’s most intense eye contact, it freaks me out because it seems like something else should follow. And I’ve never done that before. So, it’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just that I… feel like I’m going to embarrass myself. So I avoid it because it’s easier than having this conversation.”

“Wow,” Isaac said, surprised by your honesty, and how quickly you spoke. “Well, I’m not trying to have sex with you. So don’t be nervous about that. Just because I look at you doesn’t mean that’s the immediate next step. I’ve never done that, either, so—”

You got to your feet, the embarrassment of the moment overwhelming. Being on your bed with him was unbearable.

“No. No. Um,” you stopped, taking a deep breath. “I didn’t think because you flashed your hot werewolf eyes at me that you wanted to rip my clothes off and have sex with me. I was talking about something way tamer. You know, like the time you do ten steps before sex.”

Isaac sat up, moving to the edge of your bed. “That’s fine. If it makes you feel any better I’ve never kissed anyone because I really wanted to.”

“Was… traumatic for you?” you asked, trying to be sensitive despite the burning in your cheeks.

“What? No. Not like that. I meant that it was all for show,” he assured you.

You sighed, relieved. “Oh, okay. Good. I thought this was moving in a much more depressing direction. Something even more depressing than me being sixteen and never having kissed a boy.”

He got up, towering over you in your tiny room filled with your childhood memories and very specific interests.

“You’re working yourself up. I can hear your heart racing,” he said.

“You can hear that?” you asked, panicked. Your heart raced a lot because of a lot of things he did. Sometimes even stupid things that were embarrassing for anyone to know that you found hot.

“Yeah. Werewolf stuff. It’s cute, though.”

Isaac took this rare moment—one where you were rendered speechless—to kiss you. He moved his hands to your face, and leaned down to kiss you. It wasn’t until that moment that you realized just how much taller he was than you. When you kissed him back, initially a little unsure of yourself, your instincts made you move onto your tiptoes. Just as you felt as though you were really getting into it, he stopped.

“Pulling away to see a frown isn’t the most encouraging thing,” he said, smiling.

“Well, I didn’t really want you to stop. Couldn’t you hear that while eavesdropping on my heartbeat?”

He laughed. “I don’t do it on purpose. I can’t help it. It’s just… sort of there.”

“Alright. Well, why don’t you eavesdrop while you kiss me?”

When he kissed you again, you expected it. What you didn’t expect was for him to move his hands to your waist, then go lower until he was able to pick you up. Being level with him was very different, and once you got over the initial shock of being picked up, you kissed him even harder. Everything you ever read about now made sense. It did feel electric, and you didn’t want it to end.

Isaac waited a short period of time before he put you down on the bed, moving so that he was on top of you. Instinctively, you parted your legs, making room for him to be even closer to you. You found that you liked the weight of him against you, and he liked that feeling, too.

His hand caressed your leg until he moved back to your waist. It made you think that you should touch him, too. Before your mind could explore all options and choose the best one, his lips began to shift. The unfamiliar sensation of someone kissing your neck was definitely something you liked. Your heart skipped a beat, and a pang of warmth spread through your body. You moaned, surprising yourself. His grip on your waist tightened, and it made you move your hand to his hair.

Your fingers grasped at his short curls when the kisses turned into something more dangerous. There was a chance, as he sucked gently at the soft skin of your neck, that he could leave marks. But neither of you were thinking like that.

The only thing that stopped him was something completely unintentional on your part. You were so lost in the moment that you—or, more accurately, your body—wanted more. You shifted your hips, grinding yourself against him. Then you stiffened, and he pulled away so he could look at you.

“I want to die right now,” you blurted out. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“But you want that?” he asked, searching your eyes. You had no choice but to look at him, and you could tell that he wanted you. That was a confidence boost that you didn’t even know you needed. All you could do was nod.

He went back to kissing you, grabbing your hips and repositioning you so you were pressed against him perfectly. The way you gasped made him kiss you even harder. He moaned, too, and the feeling of him moaning while kissing you was exhilarating. You were doing that to him?

Any over-analyzing was impossible when he moved his hips, his large bulge pressing against your core. The sensation was not unfamiliar to you, but it was unfamiliar to have someone else doing it for you. The sighs that escaped your lips only made him continue, and his grasp on your thigh tightened every time it was a moan instead.

Your arm wrapped around his neck, and it only made his muscles more evident. Just as you felt lightheaded—the friction he’d created built up a tension that made every part of you feel heavy and extremely needy—he stopped.

“I just need a second,” he said, embarrassed. He was a werewolf but it somewhat didn’t help his stamina in this case.

You were a virgin, but you were not clueless. “Just keep going. I don’t care.”

Isaac knew that continuing would mean there was a chance he’d have to figure things out for you after, but it was too tempting to worry about that. When it seemed like he was going to kiss you, he bowed his head, burying his face in your neck. Not to kiss you there, but to stifle his groans.

It was undeniably hot, even if it was less than a minute before he came, still moving against you as it happened. Male orgasms weren’t something you’d ever seen or completely understood, but you liked it. You moved your fingers through his hair, unsure if it was what he wanted, but hoping it was. You liked the way he moved so desperately, sporadic as he came down from his high.

He lifted his head, his face flushed. It made you smile, and he mirrored your expression.

“I’m not going to be the guy that asks you if you came,” he said. “Sorry, I—”

“Don’t apologize for doing the thing you do when you… do this.”

This time, it was you that kissed him. You had no intention of judging him, especially not when what he was apologizing for turned you on even more. He grabbed your waist again, and moved so that you were on top of him. The idea of it was more intimidating than how it felt. It wasn’t clear if it was what he thought you were going to do when he switched positions, but he didn’t protest when you moved onto his leg. In fact, he sat up, leaning against your wall. You liked it better that way, and you didn’t know if he guessed or if he’d sensed it.

Kissing him was enough to pick up where you left off, but when he moved his hand into your hair, and gently gathered some in his hand, that was enough to earn another moan. The movement of your hips on his leg ensured that it wasn’t the last. He almost couldn’t believe it was happening when just one week ago he was banned from speaking to you. He still was, but you were breaking that rule together. And you were doing a lot more than breaking it.

You only stopped kissing him when you were close to finishing, unable to focus on anything other than maintaining the rhythm that was getting you there. You closed your eyes, tightening your hold on him. Your chest pressed against his, and he couldn’t ignore that feeling that did to him. His hands guided your hips, wanting to grab you, yet knowing you didn’t need the help. Him touching you like this was enough, and your orgasm washed over you, lasting longer than you expected. It was intense; blurring your vision and leaving you breathless. It was only when it was over that you considered you might’ve been loud. Your thighs burned as you got off of him.

“Do you… do that a lot?” he asked, not thinking before he spoke. He had looked at you too long, too transfixed on how you looked when you were on top of him.

“What do you mean?” you asked, even though you were pretty sure that you knew. You didn’t want to tell him that you did, and he think you did it with other guys before him.

“You know…” he trailed off, fixing your hair. “You just seemed like you knew what you were doing. I liked it.”

“I’m a virgin. I don’t have a lineup of guys on speed dial,” you replied, making a joke feeling like the only way you could talk about it.

“I could be. I really like you, and I liked this.”

“I think you’re underestimating how often I do it.”

“I’m not that far away.”

You couldn't believe you were talking about this, but you felt comfortable enough with him to, and that meant something.

“Is that all you want? I just want to know before I overthink this. I overthink everything.”

“No. Unless that’s all you want.”

“We’re not even supposed to be talking. Scott said he’d rip your throat out if you even looked at me again.”

“Doesn’t that just make you want it even more? We’ll go on a secret date. I’ll figure something out. No one will know.”

You couldn't fight the smile that appeared at the idea of that.

“If we did this before our first date, then what are we doing after?”

“Hopefully something where I don’t cum in my underwear in the first few minutes.”

You laughed, then moved closer to him. “I liked it. Watching it happen, I mean. It helped me along, I guess you could say. I can’t wait for the real thing.”

He tensed momentarily, then said, “You have to. Someone’s in the driveway. I should go.”

Isaac kissed you one last time, then went out your window. It wasn’t how you thought your day was going to go, but it seemed like it would be hard to top.

#teen wolf #teen wolf request #isaac lahey #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey x you #isaac lahey teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf smut #isaac lahey imagine #isaac lahey fanfiction #werewolf #werewolf x reader #werewolf x you #writing requests #request #requests are open #requests open #teen wolf fanfic

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thepinkpanther83 · 21 days ago

Note

Imagine,

BFF!Reader puts viagra in Eddie's drink, and Eddie struggles to hide his boner then asks Reader for help, not knowing she was the one that put him in his predicament.

Please and thank you.

❤️🖤❤️🖤❤️🖤❤️🖤❤️🖤❤️🖤❤️🖤❤️🖤❤️🖤

Hard Truths

One-Shot Request: “BFF!Reader x Eddie Munson Request”

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

💌 Author’s Note: A huge thank you to @meankenna for this chaotic and incredibly fun request! You know how to bring out the absolute menace in Reader and make poor Eddie suffer in the best ways. I had fun turning this smutty setup into something shameless, sweet, and totally on-brand for our disaster duo. I hope this story gives you every giggle and groan you were craving. 💋

~Pinkie 🍒

Masterlist

Find me on AO3.

Read this story on AO3.

🎸🧋Summary: Eddie Munson’s always been cocky, loud, and way too confident for his own good. But when a prank from his best friend backfires in the filthiest, most unexpected way… he finds himself in very unfamiliar territory, flustered, wrecked, and maybe finally ready to admit the truth he’s been dodging for years.

It starts with a hard-on. It ends with something even harder… feelings.

Click "Keep Reading" below the cut to read. 😘

“Hard Truths”

It’s the end of the school day, and you’ve barely tossed your backpack into Eddie’s beat-up van before he starts up again.

“-and then she asked for my number,” Eddie’s saying, grinning around a fresh cigarette, elbow leaning out the driver’s side window. “Didn’t even have to try. I just exist and they flock, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes so hard you practically give yourself whiplash. “Eddie. You were trying. I watched you nearly drop a stack of metal magazines trying to grab that poor woman’s attention.”

He sucks in a drag, eyes squinting in mock offense. “That was strategy. Drop something, she helps pick it up, sparks fly… it’s practically physics.”

“Physics would’ve been not tripping over your own feet.”

He laughs like you’re his favorite comedian, but it doesn’t stop the brag train.

“I’m just saying, I’m built different. Steel trap focus. Mental stamina of a goddamn monk. I could go hours without cracking, even if someone tried to make me squirm.”

You raise your brow slowly, slanting your head in quiet challenge.

“Oh yeah?”

Eddie catches it. Smirks. “C’mon, babe. I’ve seen shit that’d melt your pretty little eyeballs. You think I can’t handle a little pressure?”

You hum thoughtfully, tugging open the cooler at your feet in the van’s floorboard. Inside are the usual half-melted ice packs and gas station sodas, plus one very specific can you prepped just for this occasion, label swapped, contents tweaked, timing perfect.

“You want a drink, hotshot?”

He nods, still smug. “Make it something cold. I’m burning up from all this testosterone.”

You grab the doctored Coke and hand it to him with your sweetest smile.

“Hope you’re feelin’ confident, Munson,” you say, watching as he takes a deep, unassuming swig.

“Real easy to stay cool under pressure.”

You swear he shivers just a little, but that’s probably just your imagination.

Probably.

Earlier that week, school parking lot, post-lunch chaos…

The sun was high. The pavement smelled like burnt rubber and cafeteria grease. You were halfway to your car with Gareth when the ambush hit.

SNAP! CRACKLE! POP!

A string of firecrackers went off under the metal stairwell just behind you.

You jumped a full foot in the air, nearly dropped your drink, heart slamming against your ribs like a panic attack in fast-forward.

Gareth screamed like he was being murdered. Real horror movie shit. Full soprano.

Cue Eddie Munson, cackling like a goblin from across the lot, doubled over against his van with a cigarette dangling out of his mouth and a lighter in his hand.

“Oh my god,” he wheezed, pointing at you and Gareth. “That was so much better than I thought it’d be, did you see her face? She went full Scooby-Doo mode-”

You stalked over. “You’re such a dick.”

He just laughed harder. “A creative dick.”

Gareth wiped ash off his jeans. “You’re gonna die.”

Eddie winked. “Only if I die laughing, big boy.”

Later that night, the plan was born.

You and Gareth on the back porch of your house, bottles of soda between you, scheming like the unhinged gremlins he trained you both to be.

“Viagra,” Gareth whispered like it was a war strategy.

Your eyes lit up. “You genius.”

He grinned. “No permanent damage. Just an extremely awkward night.”

“And the best part?” You leaned back, already picturing it. “We don’t even have to do anything. Just watch him suffer.”

You high-fived on it.

You never imagined it would escalate this well.

The lights are low, the VHS is rolling, and Eddie Munson is dying.

Not dramatically. Not loudly. Not in any way that anyone else would notice.

But you’re watching him like a hawk.

You’re draped over the far side of the couch with a bowl of popcorn in your lap while Gareth, Jeff, Grant and a couple other regulars sprawl around the room, half-watching some B-grade slasher flick. The room’s thick with weed smoke and body heat, but it’s not the movie or the joint making Eddie sweat.

It’s the boner.

Eddie is sitting cross-legged on the floor directly in front of the couch, and he’s been shifting for the last twenty minutes. Legs stretching, then curling. Elbows propped on knees one second, then back bracing him up the next. He keeps clearing his throat. Adjusting his shirt. Tucking a throw pillow onto his lap like he’s trying to be casual.

He’s failing. Spectacularly.

You lean forward slightly, fingers playing in the popcorn.

“You good, big guy?” you ask, all false concern, pitching your voice just above the chainsaw screams coming from the TV.

Eddie flinches, eyes cutting sideways to you. “Huh? Yeah. Peachy.”

He stretches his neck. Rolls his shoulders. Licks his lips like he’s trying to focus.

“…Just. Uh. Brain freeze.”

“Didn’t know brain freeze affected your whole body,” you murmur.

He glares at you for exactly 1.5 seconds before sharply turning back to the TV, arms crossing like he’s trying to shrink himself.

You take another lazy handful of popcorn, chewing slowly. The bulge in his sweatpants is unmistakable now, thick and insistent. He’s trying to shift again, pretending to scratch his thigh when his knuckles graze his own crotch and he winces.

You barely stop the giggle that tries to crawl up your throat.

This is going perfectly.

And he has absolutely no idea what’s happening to him.

You reach down and gently nudge him with your toe. “You sure? You look kinda… tense.”

He glares again, lower lip caught between his teeth. His voice is tight. Nearly a whisper.

“Dude. Don’t. Don’t make me talk right now.”

“What? Scared something might… come up?”

His entire face turns a shade of red you didn’t know Eddie Munson was capable of producing.

You smile. Lean back. Pop another kernel in your mouth with exaggerated delight.

Payback is so, so sweet.

Eddie tries to shift around on the ground again. You catch it, the little wince, the way his hand darts down to subtly adjust the front of his pants, and the tight, frustrated swallow that follows.

You lean back, pretending to focus on the screen, but your peripheral vision is locked in. He’s sweating now. Not buckets, but enough to make his curls stick a little at his temples. The cocky gleam in his eyes is gone, replaced with twitchy panic.

He clears his throat and grabs another throw pillow, laying it across his lap like it’s part of his décor. You watch as he tugs at the hem of his shirt, trying to stretch it downward like he’s about to discover a new law of physics.

He won’t look at you. His jaw ticks, his foot bounces.

Eddie mutters, “Jesus Christ… why now?”

You smile sweetly and offer him a fresh slice of pizza like you didn’t just watch him go through all seven stages of erectile grief.

Getting up and heading into Eddie’s kitchen, you’re standing at the counter, halfway through pouring a glass of soda, when you hear the sound of frantic sock-sliding steps behind you.

“Hey-” Eddie’s voice cracks, high-pitched and unsteady. You turn just in time to see him standing in the doorway to the kitchen, breath shallow, eyes wild.

His cheeks are flushed, curls slightly damp, and he’s got one hand buried deep in the pocket of his sweatpants like he’s trying to hold a grenade pin in place. The other hand is white-knuckled on the counter’s edge, like he needs it to anchor himself to the physical plane.

You blink. “You okay?”

“No,” he hisses through gritted teeth, stepping closer like every movement costs him something. “No, I am very much not okay.”

You hide your grin behind the rim of your glass and tilt your head like a concerned school nurse. “What’s going on?”

His face scrunches up. He gestures vaguely at his lower half. “I don’t know, alright? Something’s wrong. Something’s… off.” He runs a hand through his hair, breathing hard. “I’ve had a fucking boner for, like, an hour, and it won’t go away. I’ve tried everything short of sandpaper and an exorcism.”

You bite your lip. “You’re... hard?”

Eddie glares. “Painfully.”

You give him your best fake-concerned gasp, even as you lean a little closer, mock sympathy painted across your features. “Eddie Munson… the great conqueror of women… is down bad with a boner he can’t control?”

He lets out a strained noise that’s somewhere between a laugh and a groan, clutching the counter for balance.

“Don’t mock me right now. My dick feels like it’s gonna combust.”

For a second, all you can do is stare.

He’s pacing now, slow, desperate laps around the kitchen like a guy trying to outrun his own erection. His fingers keep twitching near the waistband of his sweats like he’s thinking of adjusting again but knows it’s useless. His jaw flexes like he’s trying to chew down a groan.

God, you didn’t mean for it to actually mess with him this much.

The prank was supposed to be harmless… just a little ego check. Something that would leave him flustered and vaguely confused, not full-on tortured. And now here he is, red-faced, sweating bullets, shifting uncomfortably like he’s got a crisis going on between his legs.

You set your glass down. Swallow once.

“Eds…”

He turns toward you so fast it makes his curls sway. “What.”

You hesitate, chewing your lip, then take a cautious step forward. “I might be able to help.”

He squints. “Help? Like… Google some remedies or something? Cold compress? Ice pack?”

You shake your head, and you’re almost blushing now. “Not exactly what I meant.”

Eddie’s brow furrows… until it doesn’t.

Until it clicks.

His whole face shorts out. He blinks, lips parting, jaw falling slack. “…Wait.”

You lift your hands. “Just to relieve the pressure, okay? This isn’t, like, a thing.”

He’s still staring, frozen like you just offered him a million dollars and also punched him in the face at the same time.

“…You’d do that?” he asks finally, voice hoarse.

You shrug. “I mean. You’re clearly not gonna survive the night otherwise.”

A moment passes.

“Okay,” he whispers, nodding furiously. “Okay, yeah. Yeah, please. God.”

You step closer, fingers hooking into the collar of his shirt, and he lets you steer him out of the kitchen and down the hall like a man under hypnosis.

You’ve barely made it three steps down the hallway before Eddie turns over his shoulder and yells, voice cracking, “Hey… uh… movie night’s over! Y’all can see yourselves out!”

You hear Gareth laughing somewhere in the living room, a faint, “Yeah, figured as much,” before the front door creaks open.

You don’t wait for it to shut.

You steer Eddie straight into his room, hand wrapped tight around his shirt collar like you’re the one in control, but the moment the door closes behind you, the air changes. Dense. Electric.

He stands there, utterly still. Eyes wide. Breathing ragged.

And you can feel it, the tension rolling off him, the arousal coiled like a spring, the way his sweatpants tent at the front so hard it looks painful.

His voice is shredded when he speaks. “You’re serious. This is seriously happening.”

You walk him backward toward the bed, your tone light but firm. “Get comfortable, Munson.”

He falls back onto the mattress like gravity gave up trying to fight you. His curls fan out on the bed, his eyes locked on yours like he still thinks he might be hallucinating.

You hook your fingers into his waistband, slow and deliberate, and tug his sweats down over his hips.

Jesus.

He’s hard. Angry red and leaking already, twitching with every heartbeat. Your mouth practically waters at the sight.

He watches your face like a man about to be executed, equal parts fear and awe.

Then your hand wraps around him and begins to stroke.

He gasps, sharp and immediate, hips jerking.

“Fuck-” he chokes, already clutching at the sheets like you’ve cast some kind of spell. “You… your hands are like… fuckin’ magic, sweetheart.”

You start slow. Just your palm and fingers, gentle and slick. Then firmer. More deliberate.

He moans through his teeth. Swears. Drops his head back and mutters your name like it’s the only thing he remembers.

And when your mouth replaces your hand…

His soul leaves his body.

Fingers twist into your hair, pulling hard enough to tell you he’s hanging on by a thread.

“Holy shit,” he groans. “I- fuck… I need it now, sweetheart. I need… please-”

You lift your head just long enough to lock eyes with him, breath hot against the head of his cock.

“I thought you said you could handle anything, Munson.”

He lets out a ragged laugh, more air than sound, and chokes on his own words as you take him deep again. He slips off his shirt and tosses it aside, his body overheated with arousal.

He’s panting now. Open-mouthed, wild-eyed. Your lips still slick from where you just had him on your tongue.

“Fuck,” he hisses again, palms planting flat on the bed as he tries to get his bearings, tries to stop his hips from thrusting up into your mouth.

You blink up at him, innocent as sin. “What’s the matter, Munson? Need a minute?”

“No.” His voice cracks as he surges up, grabbing you with a kind of raw desperation you’ve never seen in him before. “I need you.”

And just like that, you’re flipped onto your back, your hair fanning across his sheets like his had, laughter catching in your throat before it’s swallowed by a kiss that’s messy, hungry, and full of tongue and teeth.

“Too fuckin’ much,” he growls against your mouth, fumbling with the waistband of your jeans, and groping at your body desperately. “You… your mouth… fuck, I can’t-”

You giggle breathlessly, lifting your hips to help him. “Jesus, Eddie, you’re acting like this is the first time you’ve seen a pair of tits.”

“Shut up,” he mutters, eyes going wide as your shirt and bra hit the floor. “I’m trying not to explode.”

You’re naked in seconds. No finesse. No preamble. Just frantic fingers and yanked fabric and that look in his eyes like he’s about to devour you whole.

He positions you on your knees, the mattress creaking under both your weight and his urgency.

Then he slides inside.

“Fffffuck-” He gasps like he’s been punched in the gut.

You cry out at the stretch, he’s thick and twitching with need, and the way his hands grip your waist… Possessive, shaky, yet reverent.

He sets a brutal pace right out the gate. No buildup. Just need. Skin slapping skin, your thighs trembling under the force of it.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, fingers clutching the sheets as he fucks you like he’s got something to prove. “Eddie… Eddie-”

He groans behind you, low and guttural. “You feel so fuckin’ good… fuck, what the hell is wrong with me?”

You grin into the pillow, half-laughing between moans. “What? You can’t handle it?”

“I can handle-” he pants, “-so fuckin’ much, sweetheart. You have no idea.”

But it’s too much. He can’t hold back. His pace stutters, breaks. He chokes out your name with a broken sound as he cums, slamming deep and pulsing inside you.

Except…

He doesn’t go soft.

There’s a second of silence, just heavy breathing and the creak of the mattress.

He looks down.

“…Oh shit.”

You blink over your shoulder. “Still hard, huh?”

He looks haunted.

“What the fuck is up with me?”

You turn your head, eyes glinting. “I don’t know, Munson. Sounds like someone’s got some unfinished business.”

And you push back against him, slow, teasing, just to watch him break all over again.

Eddie’s still deep inside you, and still hard, dangerously so. His hands are splayed over your hips like he’s anchoring himself, like he doesn’t trust his own body to behave as he watches you ride his cock slowly.

He doesn’t move at first. Just breathes. Heavy. Dazed.

“…Okay,” he rasps. “What in the ever-loving fuck is happening right now?”

You peek back at him, bite your lip, and slowly grind back against him. His breath catches.

“Ohhh, sweetheart,” he groans. “Don’t do that. I just came, and you’re already… fuck-”

“Still up for it?” you ask sweetly, like you’re not dragging your soaked folds along his still-rigid cock just to watch him lose his mind.

“Still up-? Babe, I feel like I’m never going down again.”

And just like that… he snaps again.

Grabs a fistful of your hair, tugs you up so your spine arches into his chest.

“I told you,” he growls into your ear, hips beginning to thrust again, slow but deep, “I can handle pressure. I can handle you.”

You moan like you’re losing it, head falling back against his shoulder.

“Say it,” he pants. “Say my name.”

“Eddie-”

“Say it again.”

He’s pounding into you now, the second wind making him unhinged. It’s not just lust anymore, it’s something else. A challenge. A desperate need to make you feel what he’s feeling.

You claw at his sides, at his forearms, whatever you can reach. He’s holding you so tight you can feel every flex of his abs against your back.

Smack.

His palm lands on the side of your ass and you yelp.

“Gonna let me make you cum too, sweetheart?” he grits, “Gonna cum all over this cock like a fuckin’ good girl?”

You whimper in response, too fucked-out to speak. And he loves it.

He pulls out just enough to reach between your legs, his fingers slick and quick over your clit.

“Don’t hold it in,” he murmurs against your throat. “Cum for me. Cum so hard you milk me.”

You shatter around him, sobbing his name into the dim room, your whole body convulsing under the weight of it.

But Eddie… holy fuck, he groans loudly, spilling inside you again with a noise that sounds more beast than man.

He stays buried inside, chest heaving, mouth pressed to the slope of your neck.

“…I’m gonna die,” he whispers after a long silence. “This is how I die. Buried balls-deep in my best friend.”

You snort weakly. “What a legacy.”

His cock twitches. Still not soft.

You both go silent.

“What the fuck is going on?!” Eddie practically wails. “Why won’t it go down?!”

You giggle loudly.

“I’m serious!” Eddie whines, still buried in you, forehead pressed to your shoulder as he pants like he just ran a marathon. “It’s like… fuck… I’m stuck in horny purgatory.”

You’re still catching your breath, face flushed, body sore in every delicious way. But you can feel it too, his cock, still hard, twitching inside you like it has unfinished business.

“…Want to stop?” you ask innocently, rotating your hips and clenching around his cock. Testing him.

He groans like he’s in pain. His whole body tenses.

“Sweetheart,” he says slowly, voice ragged, “if you do that again, I’m gonna cry. Or cum again. Maybe both.”

You grin, then flip the script, pushing him onto his back on the bed and straddling him.

Then you ride him.

Again, no preamble. No teasing. Just roll your hips slow and filthy like you know exactly what you’re doing, because you do.

Eddie groans your name. His fingers claw into your thighs, eyes glassy with overstimulation.

“Oh my god,” he gasps, “this is… this is illegal. I swear… you’re gonna break me, baby, you’re gonna break me.”

He’s all grit and desperation now. Letting you take control. Mouth open, eyes fluttering shut when you grind down just right, clenching around him.

“Shit… shit-” he hisses through his teeth. “Why does it still feel so good? Is this what dying feels like?”

You lean down, kiss the corner of his open mouth.

“Want me to stop?” you whisper again.

His hands fist the sheets. “Fuck no. Use me. I’m yours. Just… please… fuck-”

You ride him harder.

The wet slap of skin fills the room again, your moans mixing with his wrecked whimpers as he stares at you like he’s in a dream.

And when he finally cums again, he practically sobs your name as your pussy milks him with your own release.

It’s obscene. Beautiful. A little pathetic. Everything he deserves.

He twitches inside you as you slow to a stop, muscles jerking, thighs shaking.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes, completely wrecked, flopped back on the mattress like a man who’s seen the face of God.

You climb off slowly, already reaching for a towel and water bottle.

Eddie just stares at the ceiling, dazed.

“…Do I have a tumor?” he mumbles. “Is that what this is? Is my dick haunted?”

You can’t help it, you crack up. Cover your mouth to muffle the laugh, but it’s too late.

He narrows his eyes, blinking through his post-orgasm haze.

“…Why are you laughing at my terrible misfortune?”

“Because,” you say, biting your lip, “maybe I slipped something into your drink.”

He blinks. Once. Twice.

“...Like what.”

You bat your lashes. “Just a little blue… helper. For science.”

“Helper?”

You nod sweetly. “Viagra.”

His mouth drops open.

“You drugged me?”

“It’s FDA approved,” you argue, grinning now. “And technically it was Gareth’s idea.”

He covers his face with both hands.

“Oh my god. I’ve been chemically assaulted by my best friends.”

You crawl up beside him and press a kiss to his cheek.

“But you loved it.”

“…That’s not the point.”

But his arm still loops around you.

And he still cracks a smile.

You’re sprawled together in his bed now, limbs tangled, your cheek pressed against his chest while he catches what little breath he has left. His heart's still racing, thudding beneath your ear.

There’s silence, for once.

Then you quietly ask, “Are you mad at me?” as you bat your lashes at him, lifting your head, your voice all mock-innocent and sweet.

He turns his head to look at you.

Face flushed, hair a mess, lips still red and parted, and absolutely, undeniably done for.

“…You’re a menace.” A long pause. “You little shit.”

You’re about to apologize… kind of, but then he says, “I’m in love with you.”

It’s not shouted. Not dramatic. Just… said. Like it’s always been true and he’s finally not fighting it anymore.

Your breath catches. You blink. “What?”

Eddie grins, leans in, and kisses you, like he means it. Not just heat. Heart.

“You heard me.”

You melt right into it. The kiss, the arms around you, the feeling of his body softening against yours… finally giving in, finally safe.

When he pulls back, he taps your nose.

“You do realize you owe me at least three more ‘treatments,’ right? To offset the psychological trauma of being pranked with a boner pill?”

You snort. “Three more, huh?”

“At minimum.” He stretches like a cat, groans, then immediately winces. “Though I may need like… a week before I can even look at my dick again.”

You cuddle in close. “Worth it.”

He mumbles into your hair, “I’m gonna blow your back out.”

And he sounds delighted about it.

By the time sleep starts to tug at the corners of your vision, he’s whispering again, barely audible through the haze.

“…my evil little nurse. My best friend. The love of my life. Jesus Christ.”

A moment passes.

Then, smirking against your hair he says, “Next time you wanna get me hard, sweetheart… there are much more pleasurable ways to get what you want.”

You grin as you fall asleep in his arms, already plotting round four.

Who loves Eddie Munson, show of hands! 😂 Let me know if you want to be added to my tag list! @justalotoffanfiction, @yorshie, @jackalope-in-a-storm, @v1per1ne, @daveythorntonslocker, @cokepowder55, @kelsiegrin, @ash-stardust, @meankenna, @kellsck, @chronicles-of-koystee, @micheledawn1975, @fckyeahlames, @cantstandya2000, @totallysocially, @exasperatedsighohmy, @marianaissocool, @boggerslide, @sheneedsrocknroll92, @n3lly-h3artz, @comeonatmebruh, @goingxsteddie, @msmimiandrew, @cpnsteverogers

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jujutsukinkadamy · 3 months ago

Text

The Last Thing you'll

Ever Worship

Suguru geto x reader

TAGS : dead dove do not eat, noncon implications, public humiliation, cult dynamics, drugging, corruption, psychological manipulation, enemies to obliteration, execution kink, darkfic, yandere cult leader Geto, voyeurism themes, reader degradation, intense power imbalance, dubcon setup, body betrayal, rotcore, no fluff.

CW: This work contains graphic descriptions of psychological and physical control, drugging, public degradation, implied non-consent, and worship-via-humiliation. Read at your own risk. DEAD DOVE. DOVE IS ROTTING.

author's note : I've had many disturbing thoughts inside my head while I was writing this fic. Hope you darkfic enjoyers like this! Anyways I forgot the word count cuz I'm lazy like that. Enjoy the fic, Reblogs, likes, comments are appreciated ❤️ Ask me anything on my page💋

The first thing you notice is the cold.

Your body is suspended, arms chained above your head, toes barely brushing the stone floor. Your robes hang in tatters, blood drying against your skin. You can taste iron in your mouth. Something’s cracked in your jaw. You don’t remember when.

Above you, torches burn with unnatural steadiness, casting a golden glow over the stone sanctuary. Shadows shift. Dozens of eyes watch in reverent silence. You’re not just a prisoner.

You’re a spectacle.

“You brought this on yourself, you know.” The voice is soft like silk soaked in blood.

Suguru Geto stands before you, dressed not in armor or battle robes, but ceremonial black and gold. His long hair is tied back with precision. There’s a lazy elegance to his smile, the kind you’d expect from a man delivering a eulogy rather than a sentence.

He doesn’t look angry.

He looks… pleased.

You spit at him, or try to. It dribbles from your split lip and lands on your own collarbone and his smile widens.

“Still defiant. That’s good. I want them to see it before I burn it out of you.”

You and Suguru Geto were once inseparable, two sides of the same soul, bound by utmost devotion for each other, shared battles, and the kind of love that bloomed between scars and silence. He was your sanctuary, your shadow, your almost. But when his faith in the world rotted, when he turned his back on everything you both bled for, you couldn’t follow him into the dark. Although he did ask you to join him, to persuade you somehow bit you didn't, you couldn't. Choosing good meant leaving him behind, cutting the thread that once tied your hearts together. You still remember the look in his eyes when you walked away, not rage, not heartbreak, but betrayal. As if you were the one who'd abandoned him.

You pull against the chains, despite the ache in your shoulders. The crowd stays silent, his followers, robed in muted black, standing in neat rows like obedient acolytes. Dozens. Maybe more. You can feel their eyes like hands.

Geto steps closer. He doesn’t need to raise his voice.

“This sorcerer tried to end me. Broke into our sanctum. Slaughtered four of our own. All in the name of the weak. The civilians. The powerless.” He clicks his tongue. “And for what? Their admiration? Their thanks?”

He cups your chin in his hand, tilting your face toward him. “Did you really think they’d remember your name after you died?”

You jerk your head, trying to snap at him, but he holds you steady. The smile never leaves his lips. He speaks now only for you. “You could’ve been great, you know. You could’ve stood beside me. They would’ve worshipped you. But you had to be a hero.” He sighs. “Now they’ll watch as I turn you into something better.”

You freeze. Not from fear. From recognition.

Because you’ve heard the stories.

Geto doesn’t kill his enemies. He converts them.

The room shifts. You were dragged like a sac to the stone altar and your wrists were bound by some chains that reeked of cursed energy and you were forced on your knees. A table is brought forward, black velvet draped across a low altar. On it, a carved vial the color of moonlight. You feel a sliver of something colder than fear slip down your spine.

Geto picks up the vial with a reverence you don’t understand. He holds it in front of you like a holy relic. “A special blend, tailored just for you. Sorcery-compatible. Doesn’t sedate the mind, just... encourages the body.”

He removes the cork and holds the vial between his fingers. You twist, shake your head, and grunt trying to resist but it’s no use. Two followers step forward to hold you still. You try to bite one of them, but all it earns you is a punch to the gut that knocks the wind from your lungs.

Before you can even register the punch geto's hand grabs at your neck and then the liquid is in your mouth. It tastes like starlight and poison. You try to spit, choke, anything but he’s already tilted your head back. Forcing you to swallow.

It burns all the way down. It doesn’t hit at first.

But soon… your skin tingles. Your chest tightens. The air grows thick, hot, heavy. It’s like your blood has been replaced with honey. Every nerve ending hums. Your thoughts scatter like birds. You try to stay angry, focused but your body has already betrayed you.

Geto watches you shake.

“Good. Let it take hold. Let them see how quickly righteousness crumbles.” He turns to his followers.

“Bear witness. Watch the great protector become the lesson.”

You sag against the chains. Your knees buckle. Not from pain but heat. You hate how your thighs tremble. How your nipples peak beneath your ruined clothes. How slick begins to pool between your legs with every slow, monstrous heartbeat.

And Geto? He just watches. Patient. Devout.

You feel your breath catch when he touches your neck, fingers dragging down to your collarbone. The contact is feather-light, but it ignites your skin.

No. No. You’re not this weak. Not for him. Not like this.

But your body is drenched in betrayal. He leans in, whispers against your jaw. “You feel it, don’t you? The shame. The hunger. It’s rewriting you.”

You whimper and that, more than anything, makes him sigh like a man in love.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything.” He caresses your cheeks and you crumple to the floor like a broken puppet. He kneels beside you. Cradles your chin. Brushes your hair back with terrifying gentleness. Your vision swims. The room watches, still silent.

Don’t give him the satisfaction. Don’t cry. Don’t beg.

But your body is burning. Need strangles every thought. Your hips buck against nothing. You feel tears threaten.

“This,” he says, voice barely above a whisper, “is what you were always meant to be. Not a hero. Not a weapon. A symbol." You shake your head, but it’s too late. Your thighs are soaked. Your mouth parts on a moan you can’t swallow. "Let me show them your truth.” The stone beneath your knees bites into your skin, but you don’t flinch.

You won’t give him the satisfaction.

The cursed chains binding your wrists behind your back pulse with residual energy, sapping your strength with each beat. Your shoulders ache. Your jaw trembles. And still, you keep your head high because it’s the only thing you have left.

But the heat is building.

That fucking aphrodisiac he made you swallow thick and bitter, poured straight down your throat as he stroked your neck claws through your veins like wildfire. It doesn’t just make you wet. It makes you want. And that’s worse.

Geto watches you with hooded eyes, if you can call it that. Elevated, draped in black and gold, his legs spread with lazy arrogance as he studies you. “You’re shaking,” he says softly. “You going to beg soon?”

"Why?" Was all you can muster up to speak, your whole body was shaking. Even thinking about you calling the man in front of you your whole life makes bile rise up in your throat. How naïve were you?

He chuckles. “You don't get to ask questions.”

A ripple of agreement flows through the cult. They kneel in reverence men with eyes wide and ravenous, women clutching at their chests like this is scripture. They’ve been waiting for this. To watch their god ruin a sorcerer.

Geto rises. His steps echo as he circles you. Every inch closer feels like a cage closing. Your knees twitch, but the cursed chains bind you still. You can’t run. You can’t fight. You can only endure.

He stops behind you.

The air shifts warm breath on your neck, fingers ghosting over your hips. You shudder. “Still pretending you don’t want it?” he murmurs, hand slipping beneath the torn hem of your uniform. “Even when your cunt’s dripping?”

You want to scream. Instead, you grit your teeth. The cult breathes louder. He lifts your skirt. You choke on your own shame. “I want them to see.” His voice is lower now, dark with amusement. “All of them. How a proud little jujutsu brat turns into a hole the second I touch her.”

You jerk away instinctively. Useless. His hands pull your chains back tight. Geto kneels behind you, one hand between your thighs. He doesn’t have to search long your folds are wet, glistening, flushed from the drug’s effects. He swipes his fingers through the mess, then raises them for all to see.

“Willing,” he announces. “Even if her mouth still lies.” He stands up as one of his followers starts disrobing him. His face is lit up with pride and something dark and twisted, as if he's won a prize he was waiting for so long.

He kneels behind you and forces your head onto the stone, your cheeks scraping against the hard rough planes. He spits directly onto your cunt slow and deliberate and rubs the saliva in with cruel fingers, smearing it across your folds, then presses the tip of his cock against you. A whimper leaves your throat as you twist. He grips your hips.

“You wanted to keep your pride,” he says calmly. “So I’ll take it from you instead.”

And he thrusts in. No warning. No care.

Just pain, sharp and blinding, tearing a raw scream from your throat as he forces himself deep. Your knees slide forward on the stone, but his grip yanks you back onto him, sheathing every unforgiving inch inside you.

He groans. “Fuck. You’re tight.” You choke on a sob. Several gasps can be heard in unison.

“She’s crying,” a woman breathes.

Geto snaps his hips forward hard. Brutal. Your head jerks back. “Of course she is,” he says. “This is the first time she’s been fucked properly.” The sting from his cock drilling inside you is nothing compared to the sting which comes by knowing for the fact that suguru geto knew, he knew you didn't give yourself to anyone, he knew cuz you once told him that he'd be your first and last. And still he's being merciless with you.

He sets a rhythm that defies mercy. Your body jerks with each thrust, forced to take every inch. The chains burn. The stone bruises. But worst of all is the heat spreading deeper with every pump of his cock inside you, every sick twist of pleasure forced through your traitorous nerves. The smell of copper fills the air around you both and you feel something dripping onto your thighs. You feel it in your spine. In your toes. In the way your thighs twitch open wider.

“No,” you whisper. “No—”

“Ah, there it is,” he croons. “She’s starting to break.” He grabs your hair and yanks you up, forcing your back against his chest. Your tits are exposed, slick with sweat, bouncing with every thrust. The audience watches, spellbound. His hands slip in between your thighs and gather the blood trickling down your thighs from your cunt where you both are joined and brings his blood covered hand to your chest, spreading the blood all over your tits as a form of ownership. The crowd roars in triumph.

“Look at them,” he growls into your ear. “They’d kill to be in your place.” One thrust hits something devastating. Your mouth drops open. A moan escapes before you can choke it down. Geto laughs.

“Fucking knew it. That drug’s turning you into a perfect little cumrag.” You try to shake your head and push him away all but to no avail. But you’re clenching around him, your body wants it now. You feel your climax building. Unwanted. Disgusting.

He knows. “Gonna cum, aren’t you? From being fucked in front of everyone?”

“No! P-please...” But your voice breaks.

He leans in, biting your neck. “Do it. Let them see how filthy you really are.”

Your body convulses. You scream as your orgasm tears through you, your cunt pulsing around his cock, slick gushing down your thighs. The crowd gasps and praises their lord.

You slump forward, trembling. Geto doesn’t stop. He grabs your arms and bends you lower, plunging into you with renewed cruelty. His thrusts grow erratic. His balls slap against your ass with each snap of his hips. And then, he groans and empties inside you. Deep. Hot.

You feel it flood your insides, thick and possessive. Your stomach twists. Geto pulls out, slow and wet. The crowd stares at your gaping cunt, watching his cum leak from you in sticky strings. Some men drops to their knees, whispering prayers.

He grips your jaw and forces your head up. "I'm not done with you yet." The crowd falls silent as he whispers into your ear. “Open your mouth, swallow my spit and thank me."

You shake. Silent.

He slaps you—sharp and loud. “Open your fucking mouth, Slut.” Choked sobs escape your lips as you part your lips unwillingly trembling from shame and self loathing. He grabs your chin roughly as he spits inside your unwilling mouth. You're broken beyond belief.

“I…” Your lips tremble. “Thank you.”

He smiles. “There’s my girl."

You lie in a mess on the stone floor, body shaking, slick coating your thighs. Your vision swims. You’re not sure what hurts more your body or your pride. The crowd doesn’t jeer.

They bow. To you. No, to him. To what he’s done to you. What you represent now. Ruin in physical form. Geto crouches beside you, gathering you up in his robe. Not like a rescuer, but like a conqueror claiming a trophy.

“I told you, didn’t I? You’ll be the last thing they ever worship.” Your lip trembles. He smiles, and presses a kiss to your temple like a benediction.

“This is what salvation looks like, little dove. Flesh, ruin and obedience. If only you listened to me at first. And now the last thing you'll ever worship is me."

A smile grazes your lips from the sound of your old nick name coming out of his mouth, only the man before you was nothing like the suguru geto you once knew.

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velvet4510 · 3 months ago

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As much as I like Narcissa Malfoy getting her big moment, and the echo of the mother’s love theme and all, she’s such a minor character in the grand scheme of things, only introduced in the penultimate Harry Potter book.

In the conclusion to the overall series, the role of Harry’s lying savior in the forest should’ve been played by a more prominent character who’d had more buildup.

I’ve read at least one fic where it is Lucius lying after learning Draco is alive, which would’ve been quite the arc for him, considering how much he’d prioritized his own dangerous and selfish ambitions over his son prior to his time in Azkaban.

Yet I think the best person for this moment is Draco himself.

This really would’ve given him an arc that paid off the buildup of his growing disillusionment with Voldemort and with his father and with being a Death Eater in general. And it would’ve made it very clear - in a “show don’t tell” way - that he did indeed know it was Harry back at the manor … or perhaps in this version of events, the manor incident didn’t happen at all, and this gets to be Draco’s moment instead.

What if Draco hadn’t been with Crabbe and Goyle at Hogwarts, but rather with his parents and the Death Eaters in the forest? What if he were the one to check Harry’s pulse and realize Harry was alive? What if his discreet question to Harry was something like “are you awake?” or “can you fight?” or “can you beat him?” or “will you catch my wand when the moment comes?” Or perhaps no words would’ve been necessary. What if Draco felt Harry’s pulse, noticed Harry’s change of breath and/or a twitch of his closed eyes indicating he knew Draco knew … and that’s all the communication they needed? What if readers were sent into utter suspense, wondering if rivals will always be rivals, if Draco really didn’t know it was Harry back at the manor and now he will expose the boy he’s always claimed to hate? What if Draco then, using every last bit of his Occlumency skills, lied “He is dead!” not to get to the castle to find someone among a victorious cavalry, but to help Harry, and to fully defy Voldemort and all that Voldemort embodies?

What if Draco thus went from a coward who ran screaming from Voldemort in the forest in the first book, to lying to Voldemort’s face in Harry’s defense in that same forest in the last book?

In movie canon, this would’ve also been a stronger setup for The Wand Toss Scene That Should Never Have Been Deleted, if Draco knew the whole time that Harry was alive and was waiting for the right moment, and if Harry knew Draco knew and was ready to catch the wand. Better yet if JKR had cared about character development, this would’ve been in the book too. And Harry officially would’ve become master of the Elder Wand not by a combat victory, but by Draco’s allegiance to (and love for) him.

Does anyone know a fic where this happens, where it’s Draco who lies???

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eddiegettingshot · 3 months ago

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that felt so anticlimactic😭 like i personally think last episode would’ve been a better season finale than THIS weeks episode (though last episode is still not a true finale type episode)

it just felt too much like a middle of the season episode to me. and there were too many things they just shoved in at the end that i personally would’ve liked to see more than just ~10 seconds of each. all of which, hypothetically, could’ve been done if it wasn’t the finale

100000% agree i think part of why this episode feels soooo Eugh is the fact that last week was SO GOOD. like every character got their moment, the tension and pacing was There, and the setup for a great finale was there. and they just…didn’t…follow through .

#asks #911 spoilers

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kyululusdelulu · 1 month ago

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‿‿‿ Strip Kitty Cards with Sylus! ⋅ ˚₊‧ 🐈‍⬛ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Pairings: Boyfriend!Sylus x Girlfriend!Reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Established relationship, afab reader, smut (mdni), stripping(?), alcohol use, sylus asks for consent a lot, hand job, riding, creampie

Every visit to the N109 Zone is always packed with plenty of adventure and challenges, however, what you weren’t expecting was for the evening to take such a turn.

Sylus had been bragging about a recent collection of rare gemstones he had secured during a deal, so your curiosity was obviously piqued and obvious through your enthusiastic texts (which he teased made you even more ‘kitten-like’.). However, you’ve been busy with missions and unable to visit him as soon as you would’ve liked, so, he made a deal with you.

If you win in playing kitty cards, with a twist, he’ll let you pick and choose your favorite ones to keep. “You have to earn them, kitten,” You remember him speaking to you through the phone , his voice a velvet smooth tone of amusement. “I won’t give away such precious gems just like that.”

And of course, you being the stubborn hunter you are, never back down from a challenge. Sylus thrives off that, adoring how you always stand your ground and remain completely headstrong in the face of whatever you may face. No matter what, you never give up… which is why this game would be the perfect setup. He knew you would let your pride get in the way, knew you’d be desperate in trying to win against him even just to prove a point and rub it in his face. So when you’ve gotten your fair share of welcoming kisses, the both of you sat down for a game of strip kitty cards.

Sylus takes a drink from his glass of whiskey, ice clinking in the silence, the nonchalant look on his face both pissing you off and turning you on at the same time. You don’t understand how he always manages to be so damn good at this game. Does he play it in secret or something? At times, he allows you to win without explicitly saying so, making ‘deals’ with you where you get to swap cards, probably because he knows you’re just a big sore loser. Today is not one of those times, unfortunately, so the moment he places a number five card down with that smug smirk on his face, you sigh heavily and drop your cards onto the table.

“How are you doing this, Sy?!” You exclaim in exasperation, reaching for the hem of your shirt and pulling it up over your head with a sulk. His laugh, rich and smooth, fills the air and despite the way you’re feeling right now, causes your lips to quirk up just slightly. He’s got no idea how cute he is in moments like that.

“Perhaps I’ve gotten better from all our game nights together, kitten,” He responds, his crimson eyes gleaming with amusement and satisfaction. He leans closer, light bouncing off his silver hair in a way that makes it look even softer and ‘tousle-able’ to the touch. “Don’t give up, you haven’t lost yet. We can continue with another round if you wish.” Another round sounds tempting… if you lose, you still have socks which you could take off. It’s a last resort.

With a nod of determination, you straighten up and place the cards you’ve used at the bottom of the colorful deck. You choose your new ones, giving yourself a quick pep talk in your head and rolling your shoulders to get ready for the deciding round. If you lose this one, you won’t get to keep one (or all) of those gemstones that he was bragging so much about. He’s not usually one to brag so openly, so it immediately captured your interest and intrigue, feeding your curiosity until you just had to know what they look like… and win them.

Now that you think of it, this very well might’ve been a trap ─ as they say, curiosity killed the cat. Knowing Sylus and his love for comparing you to a kitten, this very well could’ve been planned from the beginning.

You’ve never been so invested into a game before, bottom lip jutting out into a focused pout and grip tight on the cards in your hands. By the time the clock shows ten past ten, you’re taking your socks off in defeat. “Alright alright, I lost. Happy now?” You ask him with a glare, crossing your arms across your chest and looking at his fully-clothed figure as if it had personally offended you. Which, in a way it had. It’s just another reminder that you lost, as if those jewels weren’t reminder enough.

Sylus watches you for a long moment, his gaze scrutinizing as he taps his fingers against the wooden tabletop. “Kitten, come here.” His voice rumbles in the silence, spreading his legs and patting his thigh invitingly.

With a permanent sulk, you approach your boyfriend and slide into his laps, arms still crossed as if you’re actually mad. Sylus knows you’re only just exaggerating, so he places his index finger beneath your chin and tips it up slightly so you meet his gaze. “Did you really think I wouldn’t give you the gemstones if you lost, sweetie?” He asks you, causing confusion to cross your features.

“Is this how you make deals?” You ask, watching him closely as he pulls out an ornate box from his pocket. “Doesn’t seem like a great tactic.” The black box is placed in your hands, feeling rather heavy as you hold it.

Sylus shakes his head, a chuckle sneaking past his lips as he responds shortly afterwards. “No. I only do this for you.” Those words alone make you feel like melting into a puddle. Who would have thought that the most dangerous man in the N109 Zone would be head over heels in love and absolutely soft for you? Your fingers brush over the red patterns adorning it, admiring each curve before opening the box. Inside, five different jewels are arranged in a neat row, evenly spaced out and polished to perfection.

“Which one is your favorite? Take your pick.” He continues, observing every microreaction on your face closely. His fingers reach out to tuck a stray strand behind your ear, lingering on the curve of your cheek for a moment too long. It’s as though he’s admiring the finest jewel he owns ─ though, in fact he actually is. You’re the most precious and valuable gem that he owns.

Your eyes are focused on the gem in the middle, its shape and beautiful rich red color standing out compared to the other four. “This one.” You state, picking it up and holding it up for Sylus to see. Upon seeing which one you liked best, he seems to preen with pride and plucks it from your fingertips.

“This is a ruby, kitten,” He speaks up, his eyes meeting yours as he watches you listen to him carefully. God, does he love your full attention being on him. “Rubies have gotten ridiculously expensive and this one? It’s worth a fortune. It has a clear cut, the perfect vivid color and it’s a big piece.” He takes hold of your hand, bringing it closer and placing it against your ring finger. His chest tightens at the sight, a maelstrom of emotions hitting him all at once. “And yet… its value pales in comparison to you.

He doesn’t need to say the words, you know exactly what he means from seeing that yearning look in his eyes. The way he looks at you, paired with the words he’d just spoken, cause you to surge forward and claim his lips in a searing kiss. You pour all your emotions into it, allowing him to feel just how much he’s making you feel in this very moment alone. He had completely captured your heart… and you don’t even mind.

“Kitten, may I?” He asks you in a low rumble, his hand brushing against your inner thigh with a feather-light touch of worship. Goosebumps break out in that spot, your breath hitched with anticipation as you immediately help him out with the zipper of his pants.

Sylus is huge, so you usually take a long time to allow him to stretch you out in preparation to accommodate him. However, you’re much too impatient for that tonight. Not with the way that Sylus suppresses a shaky groan as you wrap a hand around it.

You start with slow pumps of your hand, gazing deeply into those gorgeous crimson eyes that you could drown in. They're richer than any other red you've seen, glowing with a desire that takes your breath away completely.

Once you sit up, pressing your hand to his chest, he grasps onto your wrist to halt you. “Sweetie, are you sure you want this?” He asks you, his voice dripping with tenderness only reserved for you.

“Yes.” You respond without any hesitation, nodding your head and leaning in to press your lips against his. He reciprocates, hands drifting over your thighs to land on the curve or your ass. “Then allow me to help, kitten…” With that, he gently lifts you, supporting you as you peel your panties to the side.

He almost cums undone just at the sight of you, so wet and ready for him already. Still, he doesn't let you sink down just yet.

He cups your face in his large hand leaning in to brush a brief kiss against your jaw. “Shouldn't we stretch you out first, sweetie? I don't want to hurt you…” He murmurs against your skin, trailing more kisses down the side of your neck and relishing in how sensitive you are.

“Not today, Sy. Don't need it…” You respond, shaking your head.

“Are you sure?” Sylus asks you once more, his brows furrowed with concern. But once you nod your head in response to the question, he finally gives in and starts lowering you onto his cock.

His eyes dart between the sight of you taking him in, inch by inch, and your face for any signs of pain. However, all he sees is the same desire that's coiling deep in her lower abdomen. His head tilts back slightly once you're halfway, the feel of your silken heat clenching around him so deliciously.

“You feel incredible, sweetie,” He rasps in a low groan, helping you take more of him in with a gentle push of his hips. The moment he's bottoming out inside of you, he swears he saw the heavens for a moment. He clenches his jaw, a grown rumbling low in his chest as he takes in the sight of you sitting so snuggly on his dick. Like you belong there… because you do, only you.

He inhales sharply through his nose, eyes searching yours for a sign that he can start moving. So you give him a nod once more, hands grasping onto his broad shoulders, hips moving up and down along his shaft as you start to ride him. “Look at yourself, look how well you're taking me.” He speaks in that velvet smooth voice, though a lot more strained and breathy than usual. His hips move with yours, creating a synchronized rhythm that has your eyes rolling back.

He chuckles at the sight of your cock-drunk expression, hand snaking around to the back of your neck and pulling you in for a kiss. He goes all in, tongue and teeth clashing as he starts picking up the pace. He swallows your moans and whimpers, hands digging into the pliant flesh of your ass as the sound of your wet coupling bounces off the walls.

With mingled moans and harsh groans, the both of you find release just mere moments after one another. His cock twitches as it fills you up, his release painting your womb white and slowly dripping out along his flesh. He watches it drip from your puffy hole, licking his lips as he feels a wave of possessive desire wash over him once more.

A comfortable silence fills the air, both of you glowing from the groundbreaking highs you've just experienced. It's not until he leans in, brushing his lips against your ear to whisper “One more, kitten. You can take it.” that the two of you start this carnal dance once more.

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inquisitor-apologist · 1 month ago

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Ok Kalluzeb mutuals don’t crucify me but. Does anyone else kind of wish Rebels had stuck with the original plan and kept Kallus as Zeb’s nemesis?

It’s pretty clear in season 1 and early season 2 that Kallus was not being set up for a redemption arc, and that he was supposed to be Zeb’s foil and main antagonist. He’s the antagonist in both Droids in Distress and Legends of the Lasat (the two main pre-Honorable Ones episodes that focus on Zeb), and he unambiguously takes credit for the Lasat genocide early on.

Obviously that was retconned in The Honorable Ones, but let’s be clear, that was a retcon. Kallus literally smiles proudly when Tua says she ‘hadn’t thought there were any Lasat left’ and says “a few, Minister. Only a few.” He then proceeds to do his absolute best to kill Zeb, with the implication being that he wants to kill off the last of the Lasat (see: him yelling ‘Lasat! Face me!’ to challenge Zeb, and smiling when he raises the Bo-rifle to kill Zeb). During the fight, Kallus laughs maniacally as he brags about removing his from a Guardsman’s corpse and brags about being part of the genocide on Lasan.

There’s no remorse or implication that he might be lying at all in either episode. You’d think that a Kallus as wracked by guilt over Lasan as he presents himself in and after The Honorable Ones might show at least a little hesitation over targeting a ship carrying the last three known Lasat in the galaxy, but he doesn’t seem to care at all.

There’s also several other points in the early show where he’s presented as a heartless villain not related to the Lasat, like burning Tarkintown on Vader’s orders in The Siege of Lothal, but the point is that Kallus was set up to be Zeb’s main antagonist for the series (like how the Saxons were Sabine’s antagonists in seasons 3 and 4). His persecution of the Lasat drove Zeb’s character development and arc throughout the early show, and it definitely seemed like that was supposed to continue.

After Legends of the Lasat, Zeb had reclaimed his identity as a leader of his people, and promised to protect other survivors and lead them to Lira San. This feels like it was setting up an arc for Zeb where he comes into his own as a leader of the Lasat again, which would’ve naturally concluded with a confrontation against Kallus, who at this point is presented as largely responsible for the Lasats’ oppression. The end of Droids in Distress feels like it’s the setup for a later Zeb episode, where Zeb, having gone through a full arc, challenges and defeats Kallus, probably with the help of the new Bo-rifle skills he picked up in Legends of the Lasat.

Instead, three episodes later, we get The Honorable Ones (which I do like), where Kallus’s backstory is completely retconned and he’s clearly set up for redemption. Once Kallus is on the path to become Fulcrum, all the setup for Zeb’s arc is basically tossed away: he never gets a chance at an actual rematch with Kallus, he never leads more Lasat to Lira San, and he never uses the ancient Bo-rifle techniques he learned again.

This is pretty obviously because of Kallus’s redemption; with Kallus redeemed, he’s not persecuting more Lasat for Zeb to rescue, there’s no reason for him and Zeb to have their rematch, and since there’s no villains with a Bo-rifle, Zen never gets the chance to use his new skills.

Without Kallus as a villain, Zeb’s arc kinda falls apart and the writers didn’t do anything to salvage it. He has a few more focus episodes, but they don’t really contribute to any overall story and his character doesn’t develop meaningfully after Legends of the Lasat. He’s relegated to the background, which is really sad for a very interesting character who was supposed to be part of the main cast!

I do like Kallus’s redemption; it’s undeniable that the retcon made him a better, more interesting character, and I like the relationship he builds with Zeb after it. However, his character growth came at the cost of Zeb’s, and I would’ve preferred to have seen Zeb’s full arc.

#just some thoughts I had recently #it does feel like Kallus’s character arc took the place of Zeb’s in season 3 and that really frustrating #Kalluzeb is a good ship that’s definitely well-supported by canon but I think Zeb’s full arc would’ve been worth losing it #(though tbf there’s no necessary reason that Kalluzeb couldn’t still happen later. Zeb has his full arc beats Kallus but spares his life and #takes him prisoner. Kallus has a probably more difficult but still possible road to redemption in season 4)#just. I wish Zeb had gotten more focus and it definitely seems like that was the plan!#also I wish we could’ve seen more Bo-rifle combat come on!!#star wars #is this the original post tag #rebels #star wars rebels #sw rebels #garazeb orrelios #droids in distress #legends of the lasat #the honorable ones #aleksandr kallus #agent Kallus

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edgy-ella · 7 months ago

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SONIC 3 WAS SO GOOD!!!

Extended thoughts below:

The action scenes are by far the best they’ve ever been in the whole series. They’ve really improved how they visually represent Sonic’s speed. The only exception is the gravity scene at GUN HQ, which I think dragged on a little too long and overall wasn’t as impactful as, say, fighting a GUN mech with those same gravity abilities would’ve been.

Keanu is ok as Shadow. If you’ve seen the trailers, that’s about the level he keeps it at for the whole movie. I think I would’ve been more sold on him if he gave a bigger “MARIA!!” when she died.

In the first act, I felt like the movie was kind of on autopilot. Things just kind of happened without a ton of buildup, and the script kind of lacked flavor for the expository scenes. For example: when Sonic asks Olive Garden Guy™ about Shadow, he just starts expositing Shadow’s lore without anything like “this information is top secret, tell no one else about this” or “it’s painful to think about…I wish I could just act like it never happened” or even Sonic questioning how/why Shadow came from a meteorite. Just lore exposition without flavor from the rest of the cast. Throughout the movie, the dialogue felt very on the nose. I wish it was a little more subtle, but it’s a kids movie I get it.

On that note, the movie feels like it just has a checklist of SA2 iconography they had to tick off rather than more naturally integrating that kind of stuff into the plot. For the larger story it works well, like with Shadow and Maria, but stuff like the Chao Garden and “talk about a low budget flight!” just kind of felt…tacked on. In the moment it’s fine because I’m too busy aggressively pointing at the screen, but for someone not as invested in the series as I am, it feels a little random and clunky.

The movie really kicks up when Shadow starts having Maria flashbacks. The little montage they have with them together was so good. The cold cut to the record player stopping was so well done.

In retrospect, when just looking at this movie and not the rest of the franchise, I think Maria and Gerald’s relationship could’ve had some more focus. They never mention anything about Maria being sick in the movie, so it’s not clear why she’s there at the research station to begin with. That being said, Gerald telling Ivo “you’re no Maria” towards the end was gut wrenching. My theater audibly ooh’d.

@allshaftsfall and I were betting that the reason Gerald is still alive would’ve been through time travel shenanigans (which would set up the next movie), but, bizarrely enough, it just seems like Gerald is genuinely that old. He mentions he’s 110. But…how? Did he just survive that long? Did he use Shadow’s quill to expand his lifespan? It’s never explained.

I’m glad they had Knuckles and Tails continue to be proactive and do things instead of just being relegated to cheerleaders and/or comic relief. Knuckles in particular wound up hard carrying Sonic and Tails through most of the action setpieces.

There’s a scene where Tails talks to Agent Stone about being Sonic’s friend and not his assistant like Stone thinks he is, and Tails asks Stone “aren’t you and Eggman best friends too?” Stone replies verily sorrowfully “yeah…friends. Totally friends.” I know it’s meant to read as Stone wishing Eggman treated him better but I could not see it as anything other than Stone thinking “he’s my lover!” but thinking he can’t say that to Tails bc he thinks Tails is homophobic.

YET ANOTHER GOD DAMN CASPER REFERENCE. I cannot believe that both this and Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, my two most hyped movies of the year, both had Casper references in them. I’m losing my mind.

I am so mad they didn’t actually kill off Tom. The setup was right there. They even parallel Sonic grieving him to Shadow grieving over Maria! But noooo he survives. When will we be free of human cop dad.

DUDE. The Super Sonic/Super Shadow fight was SO FUCKING GOOD. Worth the price of admission alone.

I kinda figured Live and Learn was gonna be in the movie going in from how much everyone’s been #KnowingSmile posting about it, but honestly? I was more hyped hearing Eggman’s theme from Unleashed start playing. It was way more of a “oh my god, it’s the thing!” moment. That being said HOLY SHIT LIVE AND LEARN PEAK!!!!!! The movie’s OST had a lot more of a rock influence and I couldn’t be happier.

I have some miscellaneous “I liked this better in SA2” stuff (pissing on the moon, Shadow’s heel-face turn, etc.), but all of them I understand why the filmmakers did what they did so they’re just nitpicks.

The end credits scene is kind of insane because it’s super long. It just feels like a scene from the next movie. Metal looks a little rough, but I’m sure they’ll polish him up for the next movie. They’re probably going to lean into Amy being a magic fortune teller girl given how she shows up in a dark cloak and floats in the air. I hope she’s gonna keep the fangirl energy, but I doubt it. Very interesting choice to do multiple Metal Sonics, though, especially since Sega only likes using the one Metal Sonic rather than having different copies running around. My prediction for the next movie is that Neo Metal Sonic will be the main villain and he’s controlling all the other Metal Sonics from afar.

#sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #sonic 3 #sonic movie #sonic movie 3 #sonic 3 spoilers

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demigodofhoolemere · 2 months ago

Text

I haven’t felt this conflicted since the 60th specials, which means I’m gonna have to go in depth for this review. Bear with me. Obviously massive spoilers all over the place.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

- Okay, first of all, getting this out of the way because it was my biggest expectation and it was absolutely shattered:

WHERE WAS SUSAN?! WHERE WAS SHE?!

For one, I cannot believe they had that much buildup this whole time — from the Doctor actually telling Ruby about her, to the psych-out with Susan Triad to mess with him, to ACTUALLY HAVING SUSAN ONSCREEN CALLING OUT TO HIM — and such a consistent through-line about family across the last two seasons only to NOT follow through on what this was obviously supposed to lead to. There were about a thousand moments in this episode where I thought that THIS must be the moment, she’s gonna show up HERE… and then nothing, again and again. Not so much as a mention of her anywhere.

Leaving me incredibly confused, because they have not filmed another season or special or whatever, but Carole was shown on set wearing a different costume:

Which is, of course, very obviously a costume, as Carole does not go around like that lol. And I have a hard time imagining that this was just an outfit they tested but instead opted for the white one, because this is far cooler and there’s almost no way they’d choose the other one over it.

So what the heck were they filming?! In my mind this costume was a guarantee that she’d be back for the finale. What else was I supposed to think?! And if they really haven’t filmed any kind of reunion scene, that’s one heck of a mistake, not only narratively but practically; while Carole seems to be in just as great health as I’ve always known her to be, she’s still about to turn 85 and absolutely anything can happen without warning. I will be very upset if she passes before they can fulfill the promises they’ve set up here (I mean, I’ll be inconsolable when that happens anyway, but there would be an extra bitterness in it). There had better be something they’ve filmed that they’re just hiding from us for the time being for some reason or other. I wish it were with Ncuti as that was the emotional setup that my expectations were built upon, but even if it’s not, she needs to reunite with the Doctor, ANY Doctor, before it’s too late. I don’t know how long it would take to forgive Russell if he fumbles that.

I’m just in disbelief that they did nothing. It was my ONE expectation for this episode and instead I’ve been left confused and feeling so completely robbed.

—————

Now going in chronological order of thoughts as I skim through the episode…

- I was very pleased to see Anita again. I didn’t expect that she’d ever come back but it was lovely to see her having a nice and fulfilling life now.

- The glimpses at previous Doctors!!! Seeing Eleven already made me soft but then they also pulled out Three which is always a treat for me. I was interested to see in the behind the scenes that they had an actual Dalek going across in front of the screen (sadly the only Dalek in Ncuti’s whole era, but we’ll get back to that). I was right there with Anita though when she got awkward about Rogue, because yeah, I hated that episode, too, girl. (To be clear, I’ve never liked one-off Doctor romances and I thought this one in particular was just horrendously done. I would’ve hated it the same way if it had been het.)

- Archie Panjabi is an absolutely flawless Rani. She was giving this everything she’s got and I’m so glad they cast her in the role. More on her later.

- I’m confused about this Underverse thing. I don’t see how breaking into it frees Omega, who was trapped in an anti-matter realm. The two don’t seem to be related. Why was he in the Underverse, or at least accessible via it somehow?

- Shirley’s rocket chair is awesome and I’m here for Mel on her moped again.

- The Doctor and Ruby’s reunion was very sweet.

- I am deeply confused by Mel saying that she’s been a housewife when they made a specific point last episode about her being a spinster which meant she’d be celebrating May 24th sitting by herself. Suddenly she’s a housewife?

- Love the brief reunion between Mel and the Rani. I would have been very disappointed if they didn’t see each other again so it was very cool to have that moment of acknowledgment.

- The Rani’s explanation for surviving the destruction of Gallifrey (and presumably the reason she was Mrs. Flood in the first place?) is this: “I had a split second, flipped my DNA, made a biological sidestep, survived the carnage.” So… I guess she changed enough about herself to no longer pass for Gallifreyan which would spare her from what the Master did to wipe out their people (even though this doesn’t line up with what he actually did to them)? Is there a reason that it made Mrs. Flood so different from the normal Rani? They really did not go into this.

- Since when did the legends about Omega change? I had just been rewatching clips from The Three Doctors and Three was talking about how every Gallifreyan child learns the story of Omega as the heroic founder of Time Lord society. Now Fifteen talks about the legend of him being cast away for being insane? And unless I’m forgetting something, he’d only gone insane BECAUSE he was trapped in the anti-matter realm, yes? Am I missing something here?

- “With his body, I can resurrect the Time Lords and construct a new Gallifrey.” Except Omega famously has no body…

- When they were talking about the Time Lords being sterile I was so worried they were going into looms 😫 Thank HEAVEN that’s not what they’re saying. I don’t care what anyone else in this fandom thinks about Gallifreyan lore, I will always think looms are ridiculous and they should stay where they are, never brought into the show. But I’m very confused by them saying that it was the “genetic explosion” that did this to them. Were we not talking about what the Master did? That wasn’t a genetic explosion that wiped the Time Lords out (source: I just rewatched The Timeless Children). And did it somehow make the Doctor and the Rani infertile from afar? 🤨 What are we even talking about here???

- “Sometimes I think that’s what bi-generation is. A life force trying anything it can to survive.” At least they bothered to give bi-generation something of an explanation, but I still think it’s stupid. This was such a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it answer as well.

- Zero Room! 🙌

- I want to be clear, I do appreciate that they care so much about their child and that the narrative places so much importance on just one little life. If I were the Doctor or Belinda and suddenly had this child, even if she shouldn’t have existed, I would want to do anything to protect my baby, too. That said, I feel like there’s almost an obsession with her going on here. The narrative suddenly pivots to laser-focus on her in a strange way. It also had the unintended effect of kinda sidelining Belinda; instead of any resolution around her actual story, suddenly this is all that matters. I’m not necessarily in agreement with the fans I’m seeing that are expressing disdain for the focus on motherhood here, because I think it’s actually rarer these days to show strong women onscreen who value it so much and I don’t believe that by default making a character become a mother somehow relegates them to being “just” a mother like that’s not indeed the most important thing in the world, but… in this specific case they really did kind of throw everything else about Belinda away to have the one and only focus of her character now be about Poppy. The whole plot suddenly shifted to center on Poppy. Again, I understand the position they’re in here and I’d want to save her, too. But narratively speaking it just felt odd, like they and the whole story were suddenly completely obsessed with her.

- I do like though that both the Doctor and Belinda were so on board with being platonic co-parents. The love doesn’t have to be romantic to be very real here.

- I’m seeing people unhappy about Ruby’s confrontation with Conrad because she called his sexist and ableist world nice, but the girl has a GUN aimed at her. Diplomacy is exactly what you want to be doing in this situation. Say whatever you have to say to appeal to him. She was also wise to go straight for his vulnerability surrounding family, and acknowledging that his world’s focus on families stemmed from his own bad family history, that that was something he wanted to make better (horribly misguided as the result was). This is basic talking-down-the-bad-guy stuff, trying to convince the person with a gun to you that you understand their perspective. She saw the horrors, she saw what happened to all the disabled and to Rose’s entire existence, she just said last episode that she thought he was evil. Even if she does truly see where he’s coming from and can honestly say that a part of his intention was nice, she doesn’t mean that the result was actually nice. Maybe the writing could have been clearer about that, but I don’t see the issue people are having.

- What on EARTH did they do to Omega. Why does he have a body and why does it look like THAT?! Why did the existence of a myth around him actually turn him into that idea? Why does he want to eat Time Lords now?

- Back to Archie Panjabi: I can’t believe they just had Omega randomly EAT her. What a ridiculous ending for such a fabulous character and actress. She had better come back in the future the same way that the Master always returns without explanation. It would be an absolutely horrendous waste of the perfect casting to do her like this. All this buildup just to throw her away. Halfway through the episode, too, like it wasn’t even important!!!

- Uh, was the Doctor trying to direct Omega’s attention to Mrs. Flood to get her, too? That’s all I could get out of this but that’s messed up.

- Also seeing people complain that Conrad didn’t get what he deserved and that Ruby shouldn’t have let him be happy. On that I have to disagree. I’m all for mercy and I love that Ruby found it in herself to be kind to the man who did what he did to her and the world. If his life changes to be happy, he doesn’t become the kind of person that did all this in the first place. I would always prefer the merciful way out where even the worst of people can have a different life rather than focusing on payback. It reminds me of Kazran Sardick; make him a better person with a better life and you’ve made things better for everyone. Conrad deserved a comeuppance, but I don’t think deserve is the point. I don’t believe revenge is the only way to set things right. I appreciate that she did that.

- Aaand they got rid of Omega halfway through the episode as well. ALL OF THIS, just for him to rock up for about five seconds as a weird bird-like corpse who wants to become a cannibal and then gets blasted back into where he came from. What a complete and utter WASTE of a character like Omega. I cannot believe how absurd this was. No true payoff whatsoever. I was so sure that the Rani would use Conrad to become Omega’s body and then we’d actually have to deal with him, but no. Nothing. Nothing that mattered. I can’t express my disappointment at how they used, or rather didn’t use, this character. Ditto for the Rani, just a little less awful because at least she actually got used at all.

- Very sweet for the orphaned baby to go to the Sundays.

- I’m glad they later have Belinda saying she can’t run around time and space anymore with a baby, because I was baffled by this bit where she and the Doctor are acting like they’re ALL gonna travel the universe and go an adventures with Poppy and baby proof the TARDIS, et cetera. Like I said, the narrative is making them so weirdly obsessed with this baby to the point of not thinking straight. They didn’t explain why they’re like this right now and then not later.

- Poor Ruby always being cursed to remember things that others don’t. It once again had me wondering if there was still something about her that was going to be explained, because everything’s felt so convenient. I thought maybe if she had the DNA of something in the Pantheon (like, say, the Trickster whose theme was playing in her soul but we’re still ignoring that) then that could explain why she’s immune to these things somehow. But no. I think it’s still because of 73 Yards but dang, is that gonna curse her for the rest of her life if stuff like this ever happens again? Whatever the case though, Millie has knocked it out of the park once again. I get the impression she steals the show in everything she touches. Such an impressive young actress.

- Shirley’s face watching Kate and Ibrahim is my face lol. I’m fascinated by whatever the heck has been going on here.

- Another ominous mention of “the Boss”. I can’t tell what I’m supposed to think about this person! I’m assuming it’s the same Boss that the Meep referred to, which had suggested it would be a bad character, but now sweet Anita knows them, too! There are still no answers here, and with Who not officially greenlit yet for the next season, let alone anywhere near production again, it looks like this is going to remain unanswered for the foreseeable. If it weren’t for the connection to the Meep I’d start wondering if this was Susan!

- Can one of the little changes in reality be that mavity is back to gravity? I still really don’t like this gag.

- In theory, since Ruby’s wish for Conrad survived when they fixed the wish world which seems to indicate that independent wishes can still last even after the rest of it is broken, could they not have wished for Poppy to survive the end of the wish world before they did that? I know they couldn’t have known to, but. I’m curious if that would be a possibility if they had.

- It’s very odd here how dismissive the Doctor and Belinda are to the idea that Ruby is remembering something that nobody else can. They have all the evidence they need that she’s been the odd man out with the correct memories before, and as Ruby said, that’s happened to the Doctor himself. There’s nothing here indicating that there’s something making them act this way. It’s one thing to be sure of your memories and have a hard time believing that you could be wrong, and another to be this weird and rude about it to someone who is freaking the heck out.

- If Poppy was created out of the Doctor’s wish to have a family again or whatever exactly this was, could there not have been potentially thousands more children created by people all over the world because of this wish that have also disappeared and will never get the treatment Poppy is getting here? Surely there are others who unconsciously wished for children, or for a spouse. It’s hard to imagine it’s ONLY Poppy.

- Enoooouuuuggghhh with the ‘last of the Time Lords’ thing!!! It had its day, but it’s silly to keep using that now when the Doctor knows full well there are others. He just saw TWO Ranis and at least one of them is still out there, which he is aware of. He just saw Omega, and while that’s not the company you want to keep, it still means there’s another. He knows the Master is inside that tooth (even if he believes the tooth is in the box with the Toymaker, he knows he’s alive in there). He’s just seen Susan calling out to him in his mind and on the screens. He has a whole other self out there sitting in Donna’s garden. I believe wholeheartedly that the Monk is out there somewhere because ain’t no way that guy didn’t run away from the Time War. Somehow or another, some other Time Lord ALWAYS comes back, and he KNOWS OF MULTIPLE at this very moment. Stop calling yourself that, dude! You’re one of four Time Lords in this episode alone!

- I do love a little montage of Doctor faces, I must admit. I think that’s the third one this season but I don’t even care. I’m an easy target, I always enjoy this.

—————

- AND NOW FOR MY FAVORITE SCENE OF THE EPISODE!!!

HER!!!

Oh my gosh. I was not REMOTELY expecting this. Absolutely the surprise of the century.

This WRECKED me. I was crying on the spot and had to keep myself quiet so I could actually hear her. Thirteen has been living in my brain nonstop for the past month because I’m writing a story for her to submit to Big Finish’s Short Trips opportunity, and I’ve been enjoying rewatching her era to ‘study’ and literally just finished. I mean, I actually watched The Power of the Doctor a mere TWO HOURS prior to watching The Reality War. Just as I’m having this month-long high of loving her and now very freshly feeling emotional over the loss of her again, they suddenly throw her back to me without warning. It’s as if it was written personally for me; it felt like I summoned her somehow.

If I couldn’t cry over getting Susan back this episode, I’m grateful they gave me Thirteen to cry over getting back instead. It felt like she came right out of her era and like I was suddenly back to where I’ve comfortably been living this month and only just said goodbye to again. I’m in disbelief that this happened with this kind of timing, and that they managed to keep it a secret for this long.

I’m still reeling like I must have dreamed this. But nope. Thirteen was right there. My sweet Thirteen that I’ve been so particularly attached to right now, whose era I appreciate more with each time I watch it. For all that people talk about how bad the Chibnall era was, and for all that I even used to say about it, more and more I find that the problems I thought existed really just aren’t problems to me anymore. I can think of only three big things that I wish had been different, and two of those are things that I can still appreciate in their own way. On average that actually makes her era the least riddled with things I don’t like, just after Eccleston (only speaking of New Who here). For all of RTD and Moffat’s very high highs, to me they also both have very low lows; I love their eras but I have problems with a larger number of individual episodes, events, and recurring themes (I’m looking at you, frequent oversexualization and innuendo). I now find myself in the position of more deeply appreciating her era (though I never had any trouble loving her) and becoming more defensive of it and her than ever, and right as I’m at the absolute peak of this, they gift her back to me.

I’m just stunned and so, so completely happy. Especially because I’ve been feeling like other than the acknowledgment of the Timeless Child (one of the things I’d change but which I can fully appreciate as a story even if I wish it hadn’t been in Doctor Who) and the cameo from the Fugitive Doctor, this era has gone completely forgotten immediately. RTD has written much of his second run as if Chibnall’s did not exist, and I’ve been especially baffled by the retroactive treatment of Yaz. The Doctor tells her she can’t settle with anyone because it will hurt, then Ten 2.0 immediately settles with the Nobles like this was never a concern and doesn’t seem to remember Yaz whatsoever despite having cared so much for her five minutes ago. The Doctor won’t tell Yaz anything ever after years together, then trauma dumps his entire life onto Ruby immediately after meeting her. The Doctor gently rejects Yaz who she genuinely cares about and has an emotional connection with, then randomly falls for a bounty hunter he’s known for all of an hour who has opposing morals to him, offering to travel together and BE together, for no reason whatsoever other than lust because they did not freaking fall in love in an hour, but no, not Yaz. This isn’t even all of it. That poor girl has been so repeatedly kicked in the face after the fact and it’s been making me all the more defensive of the Chibnall era and annoyed at its erasure and neglect (and I don’t even ship Thasmin, but dear goodness, Yaz doesn’t deserve any of this; she saved the Doctor’s entire existence from being permanently usurped by the Master, we only still have a Doctor because of her, and this is the thanks she gets?). So imagine my surprise when it turns out RTD actually CAN remember Jodie, and even Yaz! (That almost actually makes it worse for her that Fifteen actually can be bothered to remember her and yet still keeps doing all this stuff rofl. It’s a good thing no one remembers that Poppy was initially his child with Belinda because Yaz doesn’t need to hear about that at the group.)

And Doctor, stoooop with saying that so-and-so doesn’t need to hear the words ‘I love you’. It doesn’t matter if you think they know it. Rose deserved to hear it and so did Yaz.

Anyway. I’ve been a hardcore Thirteen fan right now so this came at the most perfect possible timing. I love and miss her and I can’t believe they gave her back to me for one shining minute. I could almost forgive all the other faults of the episode purely for how ecstatically happy this scene made me. When Fifteen stopped her to tell her he loved her, I felt that.

You’re welcome to come back any time. Love you forever, Doctor.

—————

- This end result is… very awkward. I wondered for a moment whether Belinda really did have Poppy all along and things had just been set right, but no, Belinda’s life seems to have been altered. Having her whole life changed without her knowledge is quite the way to end a character who didn’t like the Doctor so much as scanning her DNA without permission. I do believe that had she been given the opportunity to know that this is what would happen, she would have gladly accepted if it saved a child’s life, but… she wasn’t. Everything was changed for her (and presumably Poppy’s new father who has also had this reality thrust upon him unknowingly; who knows what that guy was up to before). Is it a nice life? Certainly! This could be a lovely departure if it had been real in the first place. But it’s not her life. Of course Poppy needs somewhere to go but there should have been a way that didn’t involve altering a person’s memories of their life in such a drastic manner. Just because she was Belinda’s in the wish world doesn’t mean she has to be with her now; she could have gone to the Sundays as well, or be adopted by someone else. It would have been just fine if Belinda herself had knowingly adopted her. But the way that this was done is kind of uncomfortable. And I feel like we don’t get to properly say goodbye to Belinda in a meaningful way, because the conclusion to her story gets swept up in time being different and the Doctor being relieved about Poppy. It’s hard to feel like this was a companion departure. There isn’t another goodbye for Ruby, either. They just end the stories of two companions without really making it feel like we were actually saying goodbye to either of them.

- Bit random to have the Doctor go be with Joy the star at the end but I guess that’s sweet. And at least the regeneration energy is a slightly different effect this time, even if it’s still the golden glow. I’ll address the actual regeneration in a moment.

- I… don’t know what to make of the sudden appearance of Billie Piper. I’d seen rumors about it, just as I’d seen rumors of Ncuti regenerating, but you can’t believe everything you hear; I’ll never forget the “leaks” from The Last Jedi involving Anakin’s Force Ghost living as a sea monster around Luke’s island rofl. So while I wasn’t surprised to see her, I have no clue what’s going on here. I have a very hard time believing she’s meant to be the next Doctor, as it’s one thing to cast Peter Capaldi and say he took the form of that guy from Pompeii to hold him to the mark and another thing to cast an entire companion! Billie and RTD seem to be alluding to things not being what they seem, so I’m assuming that this has something to do with the heart of the TARDIS from when Rose looked into it, but heck if I know. They need to get greenlit so they can continue whatever it is they’ve just dropped on us. And can I just say, much as I love Billie, I really am quite done with RTD revisiting his own greatest hits over and over again. Ten and Rose were my very first Doctor and companion, but I don’t like them both getting used for nostalgia bait like this. Ten did not need to return and I am never calling him Fourteen; he does not deserve a second number, no one Doctor is so much more special than any other that I’m acknowledging them twice. They may surprise me with something interesting but Billie does not need to be here either. All of this just feels like Russell is constantly patting himself on the back and I can’t help but wonder if the recent inclusions of Thirteen and Fugitive are just to give plausible deniability that he isn’t using only his own stuff. And I truly feel bad that Fifteen is bookended by David and Billie; the attention was taken from him in his entrance and it’s taken from him again in his exit.

- Okay, the regeneration. Knowing the rumor, I wasn’t totally surprised, but like… I was still also surprised that they actually did this without official warning. I’ve always wondered how it would be if they pulled off a regeneration without announcing it and I can now say unequivocally that IT SUCKS. It doesn’t feel real. I can’t grieve the loss of this Doctor properly because it feels so random. It took watching the goodbyes with Ncuti in the behind the scenes stuff for me to feel anything. I shouldn’t have to look outside of the actual episode of regeneration itself to feel it properly. This all just feels so wrong. More on this in my final overall thoughts.

—————

THOUGHTS

I have so many of them but I’m almost at a loss to communicate them. There’s good here, and I believe there’s good in even the worst Who episodes, but my word this was a mess.

First off, pure and simple: these characters deserved better.

Fifteen should have had longer. I felt he was just beginning to hit his stride better, and this season was pretty much hit after hit for me. Apparently they decided to only do 2 years from the get-go, which is not only bizarre, but is even worse when you look at how much was left unattended to despite them knowing exactly how much time they were working with. There are so many plot threads from across his two seasons that they’ve either done absolutely nothing with or didn’t delve into in full, leaving things feeling incomplete and choppy, and he has multiple episodes that he’s barely even in whatsoever. Why in the world would you keep doing Doctor-lite stories when you know you don’t have much time with this one? Fifteen was given such a raw deal imo. Overshadowed in his entry and exit, overshadowed in some of his own episodes, his emotional threads left hanging unresolved… this is just weird.

Belinda should have gotten an ending that related to her own, actual, REAL story. I wanted the resolution for her desire to get home, a very realistic and normal desire, and instead her own personal motivations are erased to serve whatever this story was with Poppy. Like I said, she could have knowingly adopted Poppy and that would be great, and it wouldn’t have changed her original life and motivation, she would just have a new factor in her life moving forward. Instead they take her memories and alter her reality. That may be a good thing for Poppy, who deserves to live, but am I supposed to be happy for Belinda? This is not a satisfying ending for her. (We also completely dropped anything regarding her being more wary of the Doctor than other companions and seeing that he’s dangerous. I thought this was going to be more of a challenge in their relationship but evidently not. I love their friendship but everything seems to end too perfectly.)

Ruby may have had her goodbye last season, but there’s no official one again now. We just don’t see her anymore at a certain point. After all she’s been through it doesn’t feel fair to just… walk away from her and not feel that her story has concluded. One can assume things go on like normal and that she’s probably working with UNIT to some degree or another, but it bothers me that we as an audience don’t get to see her off properly one last time.

The Rani deserved better. There ultimately wasn’t much point to the bi-generation, and after all this time of buildup for the Mrs. Flood mystery, they take the character(s) away just as soon as we get the answer. They get rid of her halfway through an episode that should have been her magnum opus, her most ambitious plan yet. One is eaten unceremoniously and the other teleports away. Whether we’ll see her again is completely up in the air. This should have been so much better for her (though her portrayal by Archie was absolute gold).

Omega deserved better. I’m just in shock that they brought back a character like that only to do whatever in the world that was. For such a significant cliffhanger last episode, Omega turns out to be such a weirdly-portrayed non-issue here and is disposed of halfway through as well. What a complete waste.

AND. SUSAN. SHOULD. HAVE. BEEN. HERE.

I feel like this episode, and really these past two seasons, tried to set up more than they could actually pull off and kept focusing on the wrong things. I went easier on series 14 than I saw a lot of people do, because the things that were left unanswered or felt too convenient were things that I gave the benefit of the doubt they’d be solved this season. No such luck, and now there are even more things left unsatisfyingly on the floor. Maybe part of that is that we as the fandom built up too high an expectation and we always come up with stuff that’s better than what we get, but I seriously think it’s mostly that RTD dropped the ball. Why set up things that don’t go anywhere? Will we ever actually see a reunion with Susan now? Is Rogue ever gonna get out of super hell? I don’t even want to revisit the Doctor/Rogue stuff whatsoever but he shouldn’t be left there either!

We should have had another season of Fifteen. Maybe he could have traveled with both Ruby and Belinda, if they’d be willing. There just should have been SOMETHING more than this. He needed more time to fully develop as a Doctor and to wrap up all of his loose ends in a satisfying way. I feel robbed. Robbed of more time with him and robbed of feeling like I actually just experienced his real ending. Not being officially warned was to this episode’s horrible detriment because I don’t feel I had the right experience with it.

This shorter amount of time also means Ncuti misses out on some staples of Doctor Who, like fighting Daleks or wearing the orange spacesuit. Fifteen is the first one since that suit arrived not to wear it, and he’s the first Doctor PERIOD to not have faced the Daleks. That’s insane. I’ve seen multiple Doctor actors, including Ncuti, say that it doesn’t quite feel like you’re really the Doctor until you’ve faced a Dalek. Does Ncuti seriously not get to have that?

It’s not even just about the time. It’s how you spend it. Even with only one season, it felt like Eccleston had a good run. With two seasons, it feels like Ncuti’s only barely begun to hit a really good streak. They spent too much of his time being confusing, and sometimes barely even having him there. Fifteen isn’t necessarily my favorite Doctor but I really think they did him a disservice.

It seems like just yesterday I was writing a review like this about Ncuti’s entrance. I shouldn’t have to do the same for his exit so quickly.

Thank goodness Thirteen showed up to distract me from all of the… *gestures broadly* everything.

(I feel like I may have forgotten something, so bear with me if this ends up with edits later.)

#doctor who #spoilers #dw spoilers #dw series 15 #the reality war #review #fifteenth doctor #belinda chandra #ruby sunday #poppy #the rani #panjabi rani #mrs flood #dobson rani #omega #conrad clark #susan foreman #thirteenth doctor #dw critical

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