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tobeornottotc · 2 years

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Chess and KinnPorsche 1/?

First of all isn’t this picture so glorious, gives me goosebumps because it looks so magnificent and powerful despite it just being board pieces, maybe it’s the gold. Either wat I feel like this is a massive representation of what seeing the major family chess pieces are like, I also like that it’s gold in this picture since that’s their meta colour, but they are probably also seen as the white side of the chess game, it doesn’t really matter what colour they are, all we know is that in KinnPorsche, since episode 1, we have been introduced to an analogy of chess. And this is a metaphor, a symbolic choice used in these type of storylines. Normally when someone is playing chess in a meta show, it means that it’s used for foreshadowing, mirroring, or just explaining a certain dynamic the audience will have with certain parts of the story. In KinnPorsche the series, the person who introduces us to chess is big daddy Korn, he is the supposed leader of the major family, but he sets his son instead as the new boss as the story begins because he’s become poorly. Playing chess in a story normally shows someone being strategic, calculating and controlling, depending on what role they align themselves too. With Korn he doesn’t put himself on the board but rather the watcher and master of the game constantly winning every single scene we see him play chess in. But I could focus on the puppet mastery that is Korn’s character in this show as shown by his control over the game and his manipulation of certain pieces in it, however I want to explain more about the other pieces, I want to break down how chess so far has shown roles of certain characters and then speculate or explain why some other characters become other chess pieces and what it symbolises for them in this game.

So first of all, chess is you know competition between two sides. There are two groups of people with their own leaders that need protecting and strategy systems in a war, that needs to get to the other side and ensure defeat somehow. Either way, they leave no options for one side’s power being captured and removed, or it ends in a situation where people are forced to give up to the other side, or just accept defeat. Chess is all about using these powerful pieces with each of their own skills to get to the end and destroy the defence and attack systems created by the other side one step at a time. In KinnPorsche we have two sides very much introduced in episode 1 and 2. That’s the major family side, mostly the side we are on, because our main characters play roles on that side, this side is seen as the protagonists, the ones who need to win and are more human and moral in terms of how the audience views them. They are kinder, less strategic, just powerful and wanting to keep and protect that power however they are attacked by all sides, always being betrayed or hurt.

Then we have the second side which is the minor family side. This is the side of the younger brother and his own businesses surrounding the mafia family. This family so far from ep 1-7 are connected with greed, fear, lies, and manipulation. They are seen as antagonistic and monstrous always leaning on the moral ‘black’ side of things. So obviously they are the black pieces because that’s sadly what’s normally associated as the bad side on the morality spectrum whilst white represents purity, and goodness. It doesn’t really seem apart from the role of one character in the show so far, that the minor family are really fighting in a war against the major family but obviously with known story tropes of two brothers thrust on a throne forced to fight for it, there is always going to be competition between them, royalty, politics, and gang tropes in media always have a shunned family member feeling misused, or looked down on and hiding their intentions along the way. I don’t think it’s surprising to say knowing movies like Lion King, Greek mythologies like Zeus vs Hades, and the Godfather and other stories such as this that there is always betrayal despite the fact someone keeps being submissive and kind on the surface to the other side.

In this case Kan smiles a lot and he embraces his role but for some reason his son moves in ways that seem creepy, villainous and hateful against the other side of his family. They are not okay with the lack of power they have. But Korn and his side also know they’re in this war, in the mafia you have to always lose trust for people and always know who’s at your back and Kinn mentions repeatedly to Porsche that yes they are to be distrusted. And that’s a big thing.

So we have two sides, the white/gold side being Kinn’s side the major family, the other being Vegas and his family and their intentions. The goal? Power and control over the whole family assets. As you do in mafia storylines. So like chess there will be trickery, manipulation, and sacrifices, and long games of waiting and backstabbing and dangerous modes of attacks. There will be waiting for someone to be weak. But overall there will be pieces that feel like they have no choice but to play their role. The question is do the pieces know why they are even in this game and how are they dealing with the scary weight of being forced to participate and lead one of these kings to victory. This part will focus on the main roles in the chess board, the kings and queens.

The Kings:

So as mentioned, Korn is meant to be the leader of the major family, he’s meant to be the King, however he sits outside and watches over the game, purposely removing himself and controlling it through his children especially Kinn who he has bestowed responsibility of being his heir in the future. In their board Kinn becomes the King, Korn believes he’s the one needing protection and if weakened would ruin the whole game for them. So he raises Kinn up and lets him know of his role and responsibilities. So what is Korn supposed to be in this game, he acts as the bishop but he isn’t because the show already has foreshadowed his part as the puppet master of everyone, he’s the one playing the game, choosing the parts and controlling the pieces, even when he plays for the other side. He’s one who knows everything in the game despite his weak disguise of not being part of it. He owns the game.

Kinn as the white king is meant to be protected, and plays his role of leadership towards the ending of the game, he’s meant to be strong and cold and cruel to ensure he has subordinates follow him and respect him, however, Kinn is a hopeless romantic and kind and this normally gets him weakened and defenceless, since it’s easy to fall for manipulations and tricks by the other side using that. So Korn focuses instead on the other pieces in the game since their role is to protect and defend and fight for Kinn, he chooses to place to distract and remove the second side completely before the responsibilities fall on Kinn properly. On the other side it feels like Kinn’s counterpart is Vegas, because he’s the one thrust in the same kind of position as Kinn, brothers both responsible for most of the job roles in the sides of the family, however Kinn is put on the throne explicitly with no doubt or push from Korn, but Vegas’s father has not yet yielded to Vegas.

This means Vegas is just another piece on the other side, not the main piece that wants the power and the control. for themselves This is why in episode 2, when Kan is first introduced he questions Kinn’s leadership, he shows disagreement with how he runs things especially with his body guard, showing he feels slighted to be controlled by someone younger and someone who got the position because of nepotism when it should have been his after Korn went ill. So Kan is the king of the other side, he’s the one who’s the rival in the war, the one who if they win, the power would go to, he does his role by keeping silent, smiling and giving Vegas all the power and weaponry to go behind the scenes and sort out any issues and find any weak spots. He sends Vegas in episode 2 to keep an eye on Porsche, because he realises Korn plans to use him as a piece in the game he doesn’t understand why though. He also uses Vegas in episode 7 to manipulate and control situations to ensure the minor family looks like they’re on major family’s side when in reality they are clearly part of the incentives for the rebellion by Don and they blindside him by the way he calls Vegas a traitor. They are probably also behind moles, and Kinn getting targeted and constantly captured because he is the king on the other side who they see as weak. So Kan seems like he’s doing the same thing as Korn, not getting his hand dirty, playing with pieces, but unfortunately for him he’s actually on the board as a piece too, he’s also being manipulated by the player of the game, and he’s also being watched and observed, he’s just to greedy to notice just how scary that is. So if he’s the king where is does that leave Vegas

In summary with the Kings:

White King: Kinn, he’s been given this responsibility, he’s the most targeted on the board and he’s meant to become the next heir after his dad dies of the whole mafia system. The second side’s attack is towards him, everyone tries to manipulate and capture him with different things. Kinn is meant to play a massive role towards the end of the game if he wins, all the power of both sides belong to him and if he loses everything falls apart including all the pieces on his side of the game

Black King: Kan, he’s been slighted the opportunity, wiser and older than Kinn, his uncle controls the other side of the board, he doesn’t get his hands dirty on the surface, smiling and calculating moves and using all his pieces as pawns and tools to protect himself, but he targets the throne, he waits for weaknesses, and calls out choices (Porsche) to know what’s happening. He’s Hades to Korn’s Zeus, he feels taken advantage of so he waits. If Kinn loses he’s the one who’ll be the new king and the minor family will become the major family instead. However with minor in their name it seems Kan has never won in the board since birth, he was always given inferior status and always overlooked.

The queens

The queens in chess are the most powerful part of the board, surprisingly able to by guiding the king, control most of the strategies. There's a heavy role put on them, to ensure that by the end of the game they are at the King's side ensuring he doesn't fall. This means the queen is strong, strong! Like whatever they own, or have or do is important and powerful enough to change the outcome of the game. However at the end of the game the victory always go back to the king, that's who is the one in charge, the one the main players are trying to keep safe, the queen is a weapon, a piece just as every other piece on the game below the king but the one who actually has the ammo, and the strength to destroy everything if they so wish. Getting the loyalty and the love of the queen on your side as the king is paramount to helping him lead and guard his throne. The queen on the other hand? As long as they are given what they need they should be fine, but if they aren't, then the throne would be turned upside down. Which brings us our two queens.

Porsche, or what he’s been set up as is the White Queen to Kinn's White King, I fear for him and anticipate him too. I fear because Porsche unknowingly becomes a piece in this game, being in a piece in the chess game is not good in this environment, you have no choice but to fight, you will be forced to play your role whether you know it or not. The queen is the most important piece of the board, the weapon, the defence, the one with the most power and knowledge of how to destroy the other King. She is not to be played with. The question is yes as a bodyguard who becomes incredibly skilled, Porsche could play that role, or as the love interest of Kinn it may symbolise him as his partner however, it also foreshadows there’s more to Porsche that we still don’t understand. Whatever Porsche has or owns is key to unlocking the defence mechanisms for the white side, and destroying every piece on the other side. The queen is someone who has knowledge or a connection that can easily overcome most of the game play in the war if used properly. Korn intends to connect Kinn to his queen (people have said to give him his own Chan but it’s more than that), meaning the game maker knows more things about this piece than we do, this isn’t just because he wants loyalty but he wants loyalty from Porsche as a way to trap him and make him become a weapon and puppet on their side. The queen is just as much a puppet as the other pieces, she’s also giving her life to ensure her man is protected and her power is the same. Porsche wants to protect Kinn now because of love which wasn’t his father’s intentions, but Korn would gladly use it and manipulate it to ensure whatever is hidden inside Porsche will be used to its full potential. Kan and Vegas both know Porsche is important, they both keep trying to remove him because he’s a threat the question is why?

And then you have Vegas. Oh Vegas, the boy who feels forced into all of this too. Vegas acts like he wants the power, and that he even wants to be the king of the piece, he seems given the most autonomy in the game, he’s strategic, cunning and smart, and cruel perfect for the role of the queen, but he’s also just a weapon, a pawn of his dad, sent to do his bidding without choice. Vegas is the queen because he’s meant to be the last line of defence for Kan, Kan has groomed and forced him to be strong, mighty and violent beyond belief to ensure no one gets past him. Reasons Vegas should be feared, he also like the queen contains knowledge, steps, and strategies that can defeat and wipe out the other side too. Vegas knows a lot too, he probably even knows more about the game than Kinn and Porsche know. The minor side knows how much power Korn has, they know his real self because they’ve seen his control and hate it, so while on the white side we see him as a dad who’s kind and set apart from the board, who’s nice to his kids and worried for them, the second side views him as a cunning monster who hurts them.

Vegas’s goal is to wipe out the major side why? What does he know or want from them (apart from greed for the throne and control) that makes him become a pawn easily used and controlled by his father to destroy them. Why does he hate them so much?. Either way I’ve been saying not just their positions in the game, but Porsche and Vegas mirror each other a lot in this story, they both have a lot characterization choices in common and it's intentional, however Vegas is put in a negative light and has too many masks, it’s hard to see his real self or understand him until we see him break. But just as Porsche’s real self beneath the queen piece is just a boy who dreams of protecting who he loves, staying alive for who he cares for, and forced into this life with no choice, Vegas who has a lot and is targeting him may just be the same. Spoiler he is the same. Either way, Vegas is an important piece of the game, he will be in the last line of defence of this war but there’s a piece that can defeat his power from the other side apart from the king and queen, if he’s ever vulnerable or blindsided. Who could that be?

In summary with the queens:

Porsche: Lover of the King, is loyal to him and him alone, wants to be free from responsibilities and roles and finds safety with Kinn. Is going to be great as a bodyguard (best defence and attack) and he's going to be wanted, targeted and prioritised. No one however knows what Kan intends to do with him not even Kinn, who still just believes his father is doing this for him to have someone he can trust. Porsche's choice can destroy the game, for both sides, same as Vegas.

Vegas: Sigh, son of the King, is also loyal to him and him alone and detests everything to do with the other side, feels slighted, and overlooked, and is a sadist who is numb to torture, pain and violence. His strengths are his ability to manipulate, wear masks and adapt to his surroundings, and weaponise everything he has. Vegas is also like the queen piece giving his ALL to the game, his loyalty and his knowledge he contains hidden from the other side could also destroy or remake the game depending what he wants to do with it. Vegas is seen as psychopathic, obsessed with power and control and pain, but the thing is like Porsche is on the other side, he has no choice in the matter, if he fails the whole side crumbles, if he fails, a lot is at stake. If his father is defeated everything falls apart. And like Porsche has his own goals for why he became unwittingly the queen, Vegas also has the same reason. Both Porsche and Vegas can also be stopped or defeated by the two parallel pieces on the latter side. Will discuss that in another post.

Anyways after spending time with KP, and looking at chess and watching videos describing chess, KP has most of their characters in the actual plot fit Korn's game, Korn has his own intentional laid pieces for this game, and Kan thinks he has his, however as mentioned, Kan isn't playing the game, he is a piece in the game, that's painful for him, there's no control no matter how much he thinks he's winning or ahead. Korn will always be one step ahead. Some of the pieces of the game are also corresponding to pieces of the murderboard Kim is looking at. Kim is the one trying to understand his father's game (while probably finding himself also playing a role unknowingly on the board), and he's the one who's also trying to piece things together, but there are somethings on Korn's side that can't be seen, for example he has plot armour because most of the pieces on his side are protagonists, he views love as weak (he's right) but he doesn't realise how much love and passion is what he needs to manipulate to get what he wants, it's how he basically will destroy the other side in every piece (and he doesn't even mean to sigh) but I'll go more into detail about that later once we see them expose their roles, I just feel bad for the other side they all never had a chance they were all going to be ruined because Korn is the one in control of the game from above. He was never in it.

#kinnporsche #kinnporsche the series #reviews #bl series #bl drama #thai bl #kinn x porsche #vegas x pete #kinnporsche meta

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your-sweet-cookie · 1 year

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Character bio: Tokumei Kukki

First name: Kukki (kanji: クッキー)

Last name: Tokumei (kanji: 匿名)

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/They

Hair color: Dyed light grey/silver

Eye color: Black

Age: 24

Height: 5''5' (165 cm)

Weight: 110.23 lbs (50 kg)

Occupation: University student majoring in Psychology

Game specialty (if in Borderlands): ❤ (Hearts)

Family: both parents are alive, she's an only child

Likes: reading, music, art, long walks, favorite color is purple, favorite animals are cats (she owns a tuxedo kitten named Mr. Snuggles), favorite food is pizza, favorite desserts are chocolate cake and cookies, favorite ice-cream flavor is pistachio ice-cream, for funky patterns she prefers big cats patterns (leopard, jaguar, tiger, you name it), video games (she's mostly into RPGs and visual novels, but she won't say no to a good point and click adventure or action based game with solid plot), hugs and cuddles, movies (sucker for a good romance and comedy, bonus points if you take her out to a rom-com), cooking (she's one hell of a baker), helping others, has an affinity for knives and many more. For additional information not listed here, you can always send in an ask and Kukki will gladly answer.

Dislikes: lying, dishonesty and people who stab you in the back (if you do that to her, you're screwed buddy!), being compared to others, overbearing people who tell her what to do, narcissistic people, rudeness, bad music that sounds like nails on a chalkboard or a dying cat's howling, bullies, discrimination, thunderstorms, swearing (when it's directed towards her), people that think they can treat you like an object, alcohol (this girl can't hold her alcohol too well, give her anything that's over 10% alcohol and she'll become tipsy in no time), crowded places, partying (not much of party goer), and many more. For additional info not listed here you can send her an ask and she'll answer.

Appearance: Kukki mostly wears muted colors and is drawn towards pallets consisting of greys and blacks, but once in a while she's not one to say no to a pop of color. Her silver dyed hair reaches her shoulders and most of the time she'll wear it untied, other possible hairstyles being ponytails and messy buns. For make-up, she won't go heavy on it, in favor of a more natural look.

Backstory: Kukki has been a lonely child for most of her youth, being picked on by other children for being a goody-two-shoes and an overall studious student, things only evolving for the worst as she began becoming a target for bullying too. This resulted in her having rather mediocre social skills and high insecurities, which prevented her from forming many connections with other people (if she will approach you, that means she has interest in you, but once she gets attached to you, you can bet she'll be a loyal friend or partner until death (or until you betray her)). As an adult, she chose to pursue psychology in the hopes that she will become a counselor in order to help out those who've been through similar experiences as her and put an end to bullying and harassment.

Songs playlist (the playlist will be regularly updated whenever I find something new that I see fit):

- Control by Halsey (gives an insight to her past, but beware as she wasn't a bullying victim that went on enduring the torment endlessly, [redacted information] was an incident that marked her standing up for herself and starting to finally fight back)

- Angry too by Lola Blanc (don't step on this girl's toes)

- Dandelions by Ruth Bee (Kukki is shy, she's most likely not going to confess her feelings very easily)

- I'm yours by Isabela LaRosa (going into relationship territory, she's loyal and devoted to her partner)

- Gasoline by Halsey (a song that she shares with Niragi in terms of lyrics describing their personalities)

Roleplaying rules

#aib rp #aib roleplay #alice in borderland roleplay #alice in borderland rp #aib oc #alice in borderland oc #character bio

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im-no-jedi · 1 year

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MLWTBB: Master and Commander

Part 11 of the “My Life With The Bad Batch” series, a (mostly) canon compliant self-insert story set in “The Bad Batch”

rated: T warnings: descriptions of food and eating, implied self-harm, gun violence relationships: Hunter/self-insert, Omega & self-insert (adopted siblings), The Bad Batch & self-insert chapter word count: 1900+ words

✨MLWTBB masterlist✨

summary: when Hannah’s already hectic life becomes almost too much to bear, Master Gildish gifts her a new companion to help ease the burdens, as well as give Hannah a new friend to live with. however, the Bad Batch are not so thrilled with Hannah’s new robotic ally, which causes major tension in Hannah’s relationship with Echo and Hunter.

notes: I made myself cry again with this one haha. I have no problem admitting a lot of my inspiration for Clank came from the movie “Short Circuit”. my love of robot characters in general is because of that movie, so I guess Clank (and Buddy and Gildish) is my little love letter to it (and all equally lovable robot characters, like Wall-E, the Iron Giant, and of course, the other droids in SW, just to name a few) 🥰

also, if you squint and look, this particular chapter was greatly influenced by a specific episode of The New Adventures of Winnie the Pooh; that’s all I’ll say 😜

A/N: this story has not been proofread by anyone other than myself. so apologies for any uncaught errors 😬

previous chapter

Chapter 9: Just A Dumb Droid

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It was a sad time. The gloomy, cloud-filled skies of Ord Mantell made the already unpleasant atmosphere even more off-putting. Despite being in the early afternoon, the streets were dark and had a sense of despondency that would make even the most hardened individual uncomfortable. For some, that would manifest as fear or dread. But for others, it would simply put them in a downcast mood.

Clank was already in that place. His long, snout-like head hadn’t lifted since leaving Cid’s Parlor, and his flat, cone-shaped hat drooped over his round black eyes, casting a dismal shadow across them. Had anyone wandering the streets known he was a Battle Droid, perhaps they would’ve been intimidated by his shadowed appearance. But he kept the cloth that had been fashioned into a cloak wrapped tightly around his body, if only to give himself some sort of comfort. He honestly didn’t care if anyone recognized him, despite Hannah’s warnings.

It all made sense now why she wanted him hidden in the first place. He was a killer, after all.

The market was still fairly busy at that time of day, which made it easier for Clank to blend in with the crowd. He wasn’t actively looking for trouble, but with everything Hannah had warned him about, it was only a matter of time before some sort of trouble found him first.

“I’d deserve it,” he told himself after questioning if someone might attack him on the street.

How many of these people would try to kill him once they found out what he was? The only thing keeping him from finding out was pure fear. The aggressive looks he’d gotten from the Clones were enough to terrify him into keeping his identity hidden. For now, at least.

A small gust blew past and rustled his cloak, which he still clung to protectively. His other hand grabbed the rim of his large hat to keep it from blowing away, and he gave a low sigh once it had passed.

“What am I even doing out here?” he questioned himself.

But he already knew the answer. He had nowhere else to go. The only other place he thought of going was back to Master Gildish’s workshop, but he had no idea of how to even get there.

Maybe someone would be kind enough to give him directions. Not that he deserved their kindness. But it was still worth asking, if only so he wasn’t bothering anyone else wandering the streets with him.

“Excuse me,” Clank said after coming up to one of the stalls.

The stall-owner turned around and greeted Clank with a smile. Clank recognized them immediately from the day before. “Oh, hello again!” they cheerfully replied. “How’s that hat treating you?”

“Oh, uhh, fine! Great, actually! No problems with it so far!”

“Well that’s wonderful to hear. I knew that one would be a perfect fit for you.”

“It certainly does fit me perfectly!” Clank adjusted the hat for emphasis.

“You know,” the stall-owner said as they placed a few stray hats on a rack. “I have to thank you, honestly.”

“For what?” Clank asked, curiously cocking his head.

“I don’t often get a lot of business, much less business as pleasant as you are. It really was a breath of fresh air working with you yesterday. I’ve never had anyone so enthusiastic as you come ‘round here!”

Clank turned a bit sheepish and grabbed the back of his long neck shyly. “Aww... well you were very helpful, so thank you too!”

“Oh, it was my pleasure.” The stall-owner gave Clank a cheerful smile, which only made him turn more bashful. “You let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you, ok?”

“Ok!” A few seconds of silence went by before Clank remembered why he was there in the first place. “Oh, by the way, do you know the way to Master Gildish’s workshop?”

“Ol’ Gildish? Yeah, he’s a ways down from here.”

The stall-owner gave Clank directions to the workshop, and Clank kindly thanked them for their help before making his way in that direction.

“What a nice person,” Clank thought to himself as he walked. “It’s too bad I probably would’ve killed them during the war...”

Despite the nice interaction, Clank’s thoughts still lingered on his own transgressions of the past. How could anyone be so kind to something that was created for destruction? Granted, they didn’t know what he truly was under that hat they’d given him. And if they did, would they still have been so kind? So what if he had been friendly to them first? He was only that way because Master Gildish had wiped his original programming... right?

Something suddenly bumped Clank in the foot as he was walking, and it knocked him out of his thoughts. He looked down to see a small round object lying next to his foot.

“Oops! Sorry!” A shrill voice called out to him. Clank turned to see a young girl, even smaller than Omega, meekly standing off the side of the street. Several other children were gathered near her, equally sheepish. Their clothes were quite dirty, which wasn’t surprising considering the filthy state of the streets.

After staring at the orb for a moment, Clank bent down and picked it up. He gave it a good look over to make sure it wasn’t damaged, then called back to the girl, “no problem! Here ya go!”, as he held out the orb in her direction.

The girl seemed a bit nervous at first, but after some encouragement from the other children, she walked over to Clank and enthusiastically took the orb from his hands. “Thanks, mister!” she said, staring up at him with a grateful smile.

“Happy to help!” Clank gave her a small salute, and the girl giggled before skipping back to the other children, who waved at Clank as he walked away from them.

“Such sweet children,” Clank internally mused as he heard the sounds of the children laughing behind him. “I’m sure I would’ve tried killing them during the war too...”

The more Clank thought about the war, the more he wondered exactly what his purpose was back then. He knew he was a Commander, but of what? Other droids? And what were his commands? For all he knew, his sole purpose was to kill anything and anyone that stood in his way. That’s what the Clones had indicated to him anyway.

Was that really his sole purpose? To kill? To destroy?

What else could he do?

Some rustling in a nearby alley suddenly drew Clank’s attention. At first, he thought it was a person getting ready to pop out and attack him. He instinctively pulled his cloak tighter against his body and took a defensive position. Nothing was coming out of the alley, although there did seem to be some movement around a stack of crates.

Upon closer inspection, Clank discovered a few rodent-like creatures rummaging through the crates. One of them had a piece of rotted food in its mouth, and Clank let out a sigh of relief.

“Boy, you really gave me a scare there, little guy!” he said to the creature.

The little rodent stared at Clank curiously for a moment, its tiny pink and brown nose twitching. Then it scurried off the crate and into a dark corner with its mouth still full of food.

Then Clank heard some soft squeaking noises coming from one of the other crates. Another rodent creature was perched at the edge and frantically wiggling around, like it was anxious about something. Clank watched it for a moment and saw that it kept peeking inside the crate, so he did the same.

To his surprise, another rodent creature was lying in the crate, unmoving, but shivering like mad. Claw marks lined the sides of the crate, like something had been trying to get out.

“Aww, you poor thing,” Clank said as he peered down at the shivering creature.

Very gently, Clank reached into the crate and cupped his hands around the little rodent. It continued to shiver as he pulled it out, while the one perched on the edge was squeaking like crazy at him.

“Don’t worry,” Clank reassured the anxious one. “I’m just helping your friend get free. See?”

With that, he unfurled his hands to reveal the shivering creature to the other, who began squeaking more at the sight of it. Clank very gently sat the creature down on another nearby crate that was shut, and the squeaking rodent hopped over to greet its friend excitedly. Although still a bit shaken, the newly freed rodent hobbled onto its feet to give the other a few sniffs before the two rodents curled around each other with happy squeaks.

“Awwww,” Clank cooed at the sight of them. “Glad you’re together again! Stay safe, little guys!” He gave the rodents a salute, then headed back out into the street again, listening happily to the contented squeaks behind him.

“I wonder if even those little guys wouldn’t have survived the war,” Clank pondered to himself. “Probably not, considering how terrible I was...”

Clank had fully convinced himself by then that there was no hope for him. The war was over, and he no longer had a purpose. What does one do after no longer serving the purpose they were created for?

Hannah knew. She had told him already. “You’re really not much different from the Clones,” she’d said to him the day before. Clank asked what she meant by that, and she very plainly said both he and the Clones were created for war purposes. “Forced soldiers”, she’d called them, made to fight in a war they had no real opinion of. And now, that war didn’t even exist anymore.

The Clones had been able to find a new purpose for themselves, so why shouldn’t Clank be any different?

The words of the pale Clone with a scomp arm began to fill Clank’s memory now, like a holovid changing from one scene to the next. “Nothing will change the fact that that droid was a killer.” A “dumb droid”, he’d called him. And that’s really all he was. He’d messed things up with Hannah’s family, like the dumb droid he was.

Hannah didn’t need him. She had her family to take care of her, after all.

And if Hannah didn’t need him... did anyone really need him?

It wasn’t that far to Master Gildish’s workshop by then. But Clank didn’t feel a need to go there anymore. What good would it do? All he would do is be a bother, a nuisance, a “dumb droid”.

So instead, Clank meandered off the beaten path into another dark alley. Garbage littered the ground, and a few of the rodent creatures scurried away as he approached. A crate just big enough for him to sit on sat in the darkest and dankest corner of the alley. With a heavy sigh, Clank sat down on the crate, letting his hat droop over his face solemnly.

“I won’t bother anyone here,” he said to himself in a sluggish tone. “I just hope... Master Hannah... will be happy again...”

The alley went quiet, save for the soft rustling of the rodents in the garbage. A gentle wind blew through and rustled the cloak wrapped around Clank’s body. But he didn’t move. Clank’s body now sat motionless, like a statue positioned on one of the crates.

Like a soldier with no war to fight in and no purpose in life.

[next chapter]

#the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #self-insert #selfshipping #if anyone knows the episode I'm referencing I'll write you anything you want #and no Ham this doesn't include you LOL #star warz #my storiez

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the-firebird69 · 2 years

Text

Arnold Schwarzenegger - Wikipedia

All these movies happen now and most of them are in California. And it is about my son's money mostly most of the movies are. And you can see it in red heat. Leaving in the movie where he is a school teacher and The last action hero you can see that it is about the money. And he's chasing it very hard and Schwarzenegger always been known for it. But there's like 25 movies but as we say each one only takes a few hours and he goes from movie to movie believe it or not cuz he is confusing people and he's really confusing himself versus the last action heroes teacher by day he goes into the movie theater at night and it starts the 5th day for 6-day Advent movies and it rolls into another Terminator. And it does because they have clones of him and they took them and they're making Terminator inside of them and it's Mac it was doing it and he's trying to take Tommy and stuff and Schwarzenegger gums it up a little turns into Neo and basically ruins it in California and Australia and everybody finds it elsewhere and they find Tommy f stuff this happens very rapidly just four or five days all of these movies play out and then he becomes keona the Reeves and he's going after the money more seriously as an fbi agent. And in between those Roadhouse and the video in the United Kingdom with the hard knock kicker 5150 because he sees them succeeding again like madness we sold so many of those trike kits and there's so many on the road it's like a little boy dream you would not believe it it's mostly Corky and his yes it's there alma mater and there's probably 500,000 in there driving all over the place making a menace themselves, and you look brand new and they look nice and they look like cruisers it's like a brand new Harley just a little bit rougher looking and wider and it's brand new looking okay and it's styled. And the motor looks big and the tank is bigger it looks pretty nice a lot of people love it and riding them all over the place you're allowed to they're loud like a Harley sound like a Sportster. It's awesome there's so many he's so we sold probably four octillion each area this morning and was selling more we'll probably get up to 20 in each area trike kits everybody's buying them for all their bikes even the Asian bikes.

Today we introduce the hard knock kicker 5150 IV 400 Trike. And all sorts of accessories can be purchased but we're introducing the bike which is new it's bigger and as a trike and we have a 350 trike too. They're going on sale today it is a major day for them it's a huge business it's going to become gigantic and these retards won't let our son if any of it and by four so they need to die.

They have tons of stuff they're controlling 90% of money and a son was subjected by them still with social security they're evil will assholes they liked it so much they wouldn't let him out and now they doomd and that's typically their lives. Like you said we can't let it happen to him or our people and they're sick and health tons of them all die today and yes going to Spain and going to try the wall tons of them and we're pulling up their cloning getting very proactive in their areas going to rip their cleaning up and stick a top side and beat the s*** out of them it's very easy they always want to attack it and Captain Kirk and his men are all attacking his idiots they need their stuff desperately too they don't need giving they don't need to give it to us and our son says if you go to attack them all and take them all down and rather stuff we won't be able to you know if you don't cuz I can't stand these people you notice that this is. And Suzuki is bringing them to court today and the Superior Court and in Massachusetts where they started their business. It is a huge deal and black mass is on today too and some other movies that departed in the town begins all the same time and it's staging for the brinkes job. And they are all trying to examine what's out there in Western Massachusetts and our son says we should begin raiding, and we shall. Also supplements in the for Force and we're going to hit Tommy f now in space. Starfleet is supplementing them as well and with a significant Force today we should have 400 million ships on and then almost doubles the Forg is force and it's twice as big as Tommy f they should be able to get somewhere

Thor Freya

There's a lot happening and we want these boobs he's more locked out of the way and we're coming up with ways to do it and he says the best way to do it and support them all out of the Midwest and or defeat them in the Midwest and declare victory in the Midwest it's a little running there like idiots then we're doing that now and it's going to come up soon and we hear that's what happens they bring huge armies of 100,000 not kill him at a time and it's what the song is about wave after wave and then nothing. She's very happy with it and see what's happening

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theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin · 3 years

Note

"Tom Riddle effectively destroys the country from the inside out, which I believe was his true goal the entire time" (c) wait a second, so you think that he wasn't going to really take over or anything, just destroy the fuck out of w britain?

I have avoided this ask long enough.

I’ll start by saying that asking me about Tom Riddle is like staring down into a bottomless rabbit hole. We could travel down that path, but it is a dark and perilous journey, and by the end of it I will come out looking like the Mad Hatter.

It also requires a few prerequisites that you’re just going to accept as true (or else got off the crazy train here).

We know very little about Tom Riddle or Voldemort

What we do know of Tom Riddle comes to us from suspect sources

I’m just going to go out there and start with the basis that Tom is not crazy

Elaborating a little on number 1. We never actually see much of Tom Riddle or Voldemort directly. He’s a bit like Thanos in the MCU, or Palpatine in the first two movies of the Original Trilogy, he’s this looming threat that we pass by and glimpse every once in a while but never really get quality time with.

Generally, Voldemort makes an appearance in a moment of crisis.

He and Harry fight over the philosopher’s stone for Tom’s very survival. He and Harry fight over the diary for Tom’s very survival. He resurrects himself with Harry as a witness. We get those very strange dreams from Voldemort’s perspective (half of which we later learn are fabricated).

None of these really lend to our, or Harry’s for that matter, understanding of Tom Riddle. There’s too much going on, it usually happens far too fast, and there’s usually something Tom Riddle desperately wants or needs that eclipses all other concerns or else he has an audience.

This is part of the reason we get those Halfblood Prince pensieve lessons: Harry knows nothing of Tom Riddle and doesn’t understand him at all.

Which leads us, of course, to number 2, most of what we know about Tom Riddle comes from Dumbledore. I’ve talked about this before, so I won’t spend much time on it, but Dumbledore has a very clear agenda in relaying these memories to Harry. Dumbledore already has strong suspicions of what objects are horcruxes and where they’re located, he already has Snape as a very reliable agent to continue work when he’s gone, his job here is to convince Harry there is no path but suicide. And that involves portraying Tom Riddle as the most evil man who ever eviled, was born eviler than the antichrist, and will die eviler than the antichrist.

Now, does this make Tom necessarily good or bad? No.

However, it does mean when Dumbledore tells us things like, “See, Harry, an impoverished child was upset when I lit all his belongings on fire! What a monster!” (especially given that, in a similar situation, Harry thought it was hilarious when Hagrid gave Dudley a permanent physical deformity and Harry was told he was an angel child) we should take it with a very large grain of salt.

Right, so, with all that backdrop what I’m getting at is that a) we can’t take Dumbledore at his word b) even if we could he could be wrong c) Harry doesn’t have the introspection to be able to figure himself when a or b is happening. I won’t elaborate on this last much, suffice to say that Harry’s world is very black and white, divided into the camps of those who personally like him and those who don’t.

So, why do I think Tom’s goal was not to rule the wizarding world but instead to destroy it?

A few things.

First, there are so many easier ways he could have ended up ruling the wizarding world. More, even when he effectively does rule the wizarding world in book seven, he takes very strange actions so that he’s never directly in power.

Second, I never really bought Tom’s racism. It’s too convenient and too contradictory with his backstory.

The second first, because we’re going out of order today. I’ve gone over this before, but I don’t believe Tom had minions early and I think he was effectively treated as a muggleborn (see here and here) until he took on the Voldemort persona many decades later. I’m hard pressed to believe someone as intelligent, angry, and proud as Tom Riddle would willingly believe and accept he was inferior to the likes of Abraxas Malfoy. More, even if he wished he was a halfblood, I think the evidence of him being muggleborn would be stacked too high against him to deny even to himself (and when he finds out it’s not true, he has maybe a month or so before he realized that he’s the bastard son of a squib).

And it’s just so convenient. All the people with the power, with the money, who are itching for a cause against a threat that doesn’t really exist believe in blood purity. Ergo, Voldemort shows up suddenly espousing over the top blood purity rhetoric (rhetoric that directly clashes with his “there is only power” philosophy at that).

In other words, I think Tom Riddle gave himself a line that he knew would get him places very quickly.

And now for the first. For a guy who has had the entire country in the palm of his hands twice, one time taking it over in a bloodless coup, he’s really big on causing collateral damage and really small on actually doing the ruling thing.

The first wizarding war, Tom Riddle as Voldemort has the backing of the heirs of the most prestigious and wealthy noble houses save a select few. These are people with seats in the Wizengamot, which has a frightening control over the government itself (including the minister of magic). I imagine, in 1980 had Tom Riddle wanted to be elected as Minister of Magic, he would have been elected as Minister of Magic. If he wanted a friendly face in office then he probably could have made that happen to.

More than even this though, by this point, Tom had already won. By having control over the majority of the Wizengamot he owns the government. He’s done, it’s over, it’s finished, and many of the characters admit as much which is why Harry Potter was such a miracle. So why all the seemingly random, exceptionally pointless, terrorism?

One answer is that Voldemort is crazy bananas. And sure, I guess we can go with that, except for someone insane he’s oddly effective and very consistent.

I believe Tom was systematically destroying the very foundations of the country through its core aristocratic families. Within a few short years Tom decimates the Black family, it goes from having five heirs to none, and while some of this isn’t Tom’s fault he does take care of quite a few of them. He brands Lucius for life, while Lucius rises high in politics he never escapes the stigma of being a known Death Eater and in the end cannot escape the consequences for his actions. The Malfoy family is very nearly destroyed by the end of the series, had Draco died in the Fiendfyre. The LeStrange family, presumably decimated as well.

More, this is mostly me headcanoning, but I imagine Tom fuels an extremism that the Wizarding World had never contemplated. I imagine, previously, anti-muggleborn sentiment was probably fairly rampant among purebloods. Oh, some were very pro-muggleborn I’m sure, but I think most were fairly “eh” on the people and felt they were a drain on society (such as requiring constant funding for the obliviation department).

However, when Diagon Alley starts getting blown up every other week, when muggleborns start being tortured and murdered, when purebloods who aren’t anti-muggleborn enough are being tortured and murdered, this starts wigging people out in a way they’ve never wigged out before.

By the time we get to Harry Potter’s canon, it is now only a minority that are anti-muggleborn, and they’re perceived as raving lunatics. Nobody wants to be grouped with these people. Which, just goes to show, how much Voldemort rattles the wizarding world in a very small amount of time.

Then there’s Deathly Hallows, rather than become minister himself Voldemort installs a puppet minister. He shows no signs of wishing to change this and instead does things like destroy the sorting hat (which again shakes the very foundations of the wizarding world as whta will we do if we don’t know who’s a Gryffindor anymore?!)

So, where is this ramble going?

Given the results we see, that more than any others it seems to be the purebloods and often Tom’s own followers that suffer colossal losses, I think Tom’s actions are, in part, a means of vengeance against the entire damn wizarding world (but especially the purebloods).

He makes fools of these people, brands them as his slaves, and has them participate in the most over the top ridiculous rituals (the cloaks, the masks, the entire theatrics of it feels like Tom got drunk one night and planned this whole thing out). He destroys them entirely, and better, enables them to completely destroy themselves and the country they believe they’re trying to save.

Basically, I think by the time the series begins Tom is fueled by a nihilist rage that knows no bounds. But dammit all, the wizarding world is going to burn.

#ask #tom riddle #voldemort #anon

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svchengss · 3 years

Text

two halves | l.mh

PAIRING. mark lee x reader

GENRE. fluff, heavy angst

WARNINGS. major character death, grief

WORD COUNT. 2.4k

SUMMARY. right after his death, mark watches how you cope with the loss

A/N. i saw this one tiktok and it kinda inspired me to write this

// just to let you guys know, reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !! thank you for reading :D

white walls, white room.

mark scrunched his face, his eyelashes slowly fluttering open, the dark brown iris adjusting the size of the pupils due to the brightness of the walls reflected upon it. a soft groan vibrating from his throat, he assessed his surroundings where nobody or nothing else is present. he looked down to inspect his clothing, hoping that it would give him any clue of this room or space he’s in - an all white outfit. this scene looks exactly like the one in the movies where the characters realize they are dead. except this time, he really is.

THE REALIZATION.

the muffled sounds of cries and sobs rang through his eardrums, triggering a reflex to wake up from the state that he thought was a slumber. he is lying on the hospital bed with the light blue clothing piece, faint light illuminating the space where people are huddled up around him. he waved his right hand in the air to let them - who he later remembered as his family members and friends, know that his eyes are already open. nobody moved even the slightest, the atmosphere being very much dead, scent of medicine intoxicating his mind.

then he saw someone who he holds very dear to his heart - you, enter the hospital room, dropping onto her knees as soon as she saw his state of condition. in an instant, he shot up from his lying position and ran over towards the crying you, shoulders shaking and all. bringing his hands to hold you in his embrace, not even a glance spared by you brought a hundred and one questions to him. why didn’t anybody acknowledge him when he woke up? why can’t you feel his touch?

“mark lee. time of death, 10:23 pm,” the tall doctor with glasses rested on the bridge of his nose announced before leaving the room, holding the clipboard close to his chest. mark gauged the monitor screen next to the bed, the line indicating his heartbeat is no longer showing spikes going up and down - instead becoming a flat line, deafening beep present with it. then he sees himself still laying on the white sheets, eyes still closed and no signs of breathing evident. a surge of panic rushed through his veins.

this can’t be real.

mark rushed into the bathroom, a surprised gasp leaving his lips. his body is semi-transparent, the shape of the toilet bowl can be seen through his left shoulder. his body shakes with terror, slapping himself in the cheeks multiple times just to make sure that this whole fiasco is just a nightmare.

oh my god. no, this is real.

mark stood in the back of the crowd, witnessing the funeral of someone and that someone being him. of course, he’s never expected to get the sight of his own service. his mother is standing beside you, her hands rubbing circles onto your back in an attempt to calm your mourning state. you’re still looking ever so pretty, a black chiffon dress on your body with white pearl necklace on your collarbones and your wavy black hair hanging down your shoulders. not that anybody else would notice, it’s someone’s death after all.

“stay strong, y/n. he will always be in our hearts,” the same rhythm of sentence in tones full of pity being directed towards you. mark’s sister enveloped you into a warm hug despite the chilly atmosphere, whispering comforting words into your ears before getting into the family’s car. you’re not going back home, not yet when you still feel reluctant to let him go.

“why did you leave me?” the only coherent words from your hoarse voice can be heard. mark, who is crouching next to you, is holding his tears back. instead, he sends a sorrowful smile - not that you can see him anyway. is there any way to let you know of his presence?

“goodbye, love. i’ll see you tomorrow. i promise,” you dusted the back of your dress from any dirt or debris, leaving a rose on his tombstone. the thing is, he doesn’t want to part from you. and that’s why his figure is seated beside you in the cab. he grazed his thumb on your knuckles, making you feel tingles rushing through. you pushed the slight thought away, you must be tired to be feeling things.

you slowly opened the door to your apartment, you and mark’s to be exact. the whole house is making those memories make their presence in the back of your head again. the kitchen where you two baked cookies for christmas last year. the bedroom where you snuggled upon his chest, not wanting to start your day just yet. the piano where he sang those cheesy songs for you. the living room where you slow danced at 3 in the morning. his favourite mug resting on the countertop, probably will not be used again. this whole situation is too overwhelming for you. you feel weak.

with each day passing by, you didn’t even miss one without a visit to his resting lot. you would tell him stories of how your day went or something that you read which would made him ponder. the words carved on it are already etched onto your brain.

mark lee. a son, a brother and a loving partner.

the clock hanging on the grey wall has it’s arms stretched out to display the time - two in the morning. you can’t sleep just yet, not having any for the past few days even. dark circles are appearing around your eyes, not yet recovered from the puffiness from all the crying. mark’s heart aches everytime he takes upon your state. he feels very guilty, not that death was his choice after all. it’s simply fate, a cycle of life, a destiny that every single creature on this planet will end up with.

you’ve taken the whole month off work, still feeling ever so helpless. in fact, you can’t even remember the last time you’ve stepped out of the apartment, the night before his passing perhaps? you’ve completely shut yourself out from any interactions - deactivating your social media, not accepting any calls. you just need time to heal.

as if you’re being controlled by some type of mastermind, you shoot up on the balls of your feet, pulling away from the couch. those images of you slow dancing with mark, hands in each other’s holds, your chin rested in the crook of his neck and being ever so engrossed in love are coming back more often now. you trudged to the vinyls arranged neatly on the shelf, picking one before placing it on the turntable - frank sinatra, one of his all time favourites.

holding your hands up at about his usual height, you start twirling around. you can almost see the outline of his smile, his features right in front of you. except, he is. he’s been observing your moves the whole night. mirroring your current position, as if you can really see him, it’s a miracle for him. overjoyed actually, he doesn’t realize the salty tears streaming down his cheekbones and so are yours.

“thank you for coming, dear. it’s a pleasure seeing you in what, weeks?” a laugh escaped the woman’s lips. you reciprocated her hug before stepping into the living room. it’s been a long time since you’ve been here, was it in january? mrs. lee had invited you over for a simple dinner, checking up on how you’ve been. you can see that the family is still struggling over his passing, the way his sister’s eyes are not twinkling as usual makes it hard to cover up the lie.

“you see, this was on his high school graduation day. he was very happy that day, doing all sorts of dances and stuff. finally escaping from hell as he said,” she giggled. she’s been displaying all sorts of memoirs to you, photo albums and photographs scattered on the wooden floor. to be honest, you’ve never seen these before. all smiles mark lee, easy to notice among the crowd. not that he’s changed, he’s still that boy now. mark just sat on the couch - his favourite spot, observing the throwback session going on. if he’s still here, his sister for sure is going to tease the hell out of him.

“he told us so much about you, you know? as if everything reminds him of you, that boy is lovestruck. really,” that sudden confession made your tongue dry, unable to find a perfect response. you were really that special to him.

“drive safe honey, you can come over whenever you want. you know you’re always welcome here, right?” mrs. lee handed you the small box filled with some things you’re going to keep. she kissed both of your cheeks, mr. lee standing behind her giving you a small wave. a small smile crept up onto your face before igniting the engine, turning your wheels out of the housing area.

the netflix show is playing on the television, the faint voices of the characters playing in the background. you’re sitting on the floor, flipping through the photo journal you two decorated throughout your one year of relationship. you can see his little scribbles and doodles, often a little dinosaur symbolising your always grumpy personality.

in one photo, a golden birthday hat is nicely placed on your head with him kissing your right cheek. you remember clearly, a surprise party for you last year. in the following ones, they are mostly candid shots - you blowing out the candles while he looks at you full of love, him eating a portion of your dish while you pout your lips. you would say it was the night of your life, spending it with the guy who stole your heart.

the next page of the journal is a shot of mark taking a photo of you in the park. you suppose it was taken by donghyuck? that one picture of you was stuck as his lock screen wallpaper for a while, you remembered getting so embarrassed over it. mark would give you the same excuse every time you questioned him about it, implying that the sight of you would light up his whole day. cheesy really, but that was what remained as memories of the past, tied neatly in your heart.

the rain trickling against your window eventually made you doze off to wonderland, creating the perfect chance for mark to browse through the journal in your hands. carefully lifting it from yours so that you won’t be stirred from your sleep, he settled down in the space beside your sleeping figure. slowly turning the pages, he smiled fondly at each photo holding a thousand moments that can’t be recreated ever again. some of them would make him giggle. he kneeled down slightly to place a soft kiss on your forehead, making you squirm a little due to the faint touch.

“give him a chance. i’m not saying that you should forget mark but it’s been months, you should live up a little,” yerim’s voice sounding concerned from the other end of the line. perhaps she’s right but you just need more time. but how much longer? you’re afraid you yourself have no specific answer for that enquiry.

you’ve been feeling better by now, welcoming people back into your life and carrying out the same daily routine of yours. going to work, buying groceries, going to the drive-thru and whatnot. of course, the void is still obvious - coming back home to an empty atmosphere instead of him waiting for you on the couch, sometimes dozing off, no more weekend cafe runs. but at least you’re trying your best. you bid your goodbyes before tapping the red button, ending the call. plopping the device onto the mattress, you stared at the white ceiling, deep in your own thoughts.

you should give him a chance. live up a little.

yes, you should.

getting hold of the phone and immediately opening the messages app, you searched for jungwoo’s number. he’s been trying to take you out for dinner for a while now. you still remember his exact words, whenever you’re ready he’s always there, waiting for you. you’re not really sure about that particular question but it wouldn't hurt to give it a try, right?

typing in the words ‘okay, sure’ is already a pressure for you but you still proceeded to press the send button. glancing at the clock showing the time, the notification ping redirected your focus onto the screen.

jungwoo: cool, is tomorrow night okay with you? i’ll drive, of course :)

tomorrow night. okay, tomorrow night.

an elegant red gown is wrapping your curves perfectly, a thin necklace with the seashell charm around your neck while your lips is decorated with the dark red tone, highlighting your poise appearance. hearing the doorbell ring, you tidied up the dresser as your eyes landed onto the picture frame holding a photo of you and mark. a sad feeling crept into your heart but you pushed it away, opening the door to reveal jungwoo in a black and white tuxedo.

you would say that the dinner went well, none of his questions or chatters crossing any borderline. he’s just so polite, even you are amused. feeling comfortable with his presence, the small gap in between is eventually closing down since you’ve learned so much about each other during the other few dates. one night completely changed it for you, him offering you a dance at some event he’s bringing you with.

you observed that his moves are slightly similar to mark’s - not completely of course, mark’s is very unique and very…mark-ish. for the first time ever in the recent turn of events, you flashed a genuine smile. one that is not just for show, one that only comes out when you’re truly elated, one that you only manage to give to certain. mark just observed the scene from a distance, admiring how you’ve managed to find the spark of happiness you once lost.

alas, mark saw his other half become full again with another, her eyes twinkling with the same joy but this time, it’s not him in the reflection.

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mega-ringsandthings-world · 2 years

Note

Can you elaborate on the issues you take with the way the characters of color are written?

Sure! The most glaring example is the way Thresh and Reaper were written. They are both tributes from District 11, the agricultural district, and they are both described in a way that makes it clear they are black. (already those are iffy connations at best) They are both described as muscular, aggressive, hulking and quiet, and they are also shown to be semi-iliterate, in both the books and movies Thresh talks in broken English, and in Tbosas both District 11 tributes talk that way as well, and are generally portrayed as less civilized and intelligent.

Besides that, there is a constant pattern of characters of color being seen as more angry or aggressive, or more morally “loose” or being put through much more harrowing experiences than their white counterparts. On that note, it is clear that the difference between the Seam and Merchant class in district 12 is one of race, though this is not brought up very much, and is ignored by the fandom at large. Katniss being physically different from her family never seems to be brought up unless it’s to make a comparison between her looks and someone else’s, despite the entire social-economic situation with the Seam. And Katniss’s features are constantly presented as less desirable, and mostly by Katniss herself. Many other characters are shown to point out at one time or another that Katniss is not “particularly pretty,” which is fine, characters are not required to be conventionally attractive, but again, the connations are harmful. In a more random example, in Tbosas again, one of the capitol children is hurt in a rather brutal fashion, and she is also described as a character of color.

Another biggie is how Peeta is constantly described in-text and shown to be “truly good” or “better” than other characters, or possessing more “morals” or “inherent goodness” and more “sweetness and softness” which is also very iffy. At the of MJ, when Katniss thinks of the differences between Peeta and Gale, she says that Peeta (who is white) represents hope and life, and Gale (who is a poc) anger. Which...I understand what the author was trying (key word, trying) to do, but that does not erase the underlying prejudice in that situation, and reads a lot like a white savior trope. That Peeta is white and Gale is not cannot be divorced from that comparison, since it is an integral part of their characters. This applies to Prim as well, she’s is shown to be sweet and good, a bastion of purity and love in Katniss’s life. and she is very clearly described as a...white girl. (now, this not a attack on Prim! I love her! It is simply that underlying or unconscious prejudice went into both her characters and Peeta’s) Another thing is how the people who are extremely marginalized in-story have their more negative and outraged feelings shown to be over-the-top or becoming like the enemy. (see Gale and Katniss as examples of this, and the way Peeta’s diplomacy and subterfuge is praised, while more aggressive tactics are not.) There’s a lot more, but these are just the major examples.

#thg #the hunger games #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #gale hawthorne #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #thg meta #tbosas meta #the hunger games fandom

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aiiwa · 3 years

Text

BEAUTIFUL IN BLUE — IWAIZUMI HAJIME.

— iwaizumi hajime.

⤷ genre: college au - fluff / smut

⤷ warnings: cursing, mature content and themes. smut: fingering (vaginal and anal), unprotected sex. kind of proof read but if you see a typo...no you didn’t.

⤷ word count: 6.4k

— a/n: set in the “FRESHMAN YEAR” universe, and is a continuation of “PRETTY IN PINK” - which i suggest reading before this. for those who wanted some real action after pretty in pink, this is for you <3.

a couple of weeks had passed since the incident. at least that’s what you had been addressing the day you had sent photos of you modelling your new lingerie to iwa, as. things had seemingly returned back to normal, photo unmentioned, and still your steady friendship continued with the oblivious brunette.

and now november had announced its arrival, with your boots beginning to disappear under crunchy oceans of cherry, merigold and bronze, and the potent, musky-sweet smell of browning leaves swirling around the air. it was the tell tale sign that fall was well and truly here, and what better of a time to drive out of town for the day, and celebrate momijigari.

at least that’s what you had told yourself before, what was meant to be a two hour drive, turned into over three hours spent in a car with the oversized toddlers know as your best friends.

“i’m hungry~!” whined toddler number one from behind you.

mattsun outstretched his long arms, reaching around the passenger seat you sat in, in an attempt to steal more of your snacks. you had made sure everyone knew to bring their own food and water, double- no, triple checked everyone was on the same page. but of course it was no surprise that mattsun was the only one to turn up empty handed. so when his grabby hands slapped against your cheeks for the nth time, you angled your face and snapped your jaw right on his thumb.

mattsun shrieks, jolting back away from you. “fucking hell, y/n!”

twisting around in your seat, you smirk, watching as he checked over the distinct bite mark on his red thumb.

“ha, serves you right.” pipes the figure slouched next to mattsun in the back seat. “ugh i need to take a leak.”

the peach-haired, number two toddler was none other than makki. he’d woken up cranky that morning, and it only seemed to worsen when he’d been shoved into the back with the chatty mattsun. within the first ten minutes he had tried to suffocate the latter with his pillow, and when that didn’t work, he took to blasting music in his headphones and facing himself towards the window for majority of the ride. only engaging with everyone when you began snacking, and he had decided to drink all of his juice just to spite mattsun.

“oi, iwa! control your gremlin!”

“shut up.”

“no, you shut up! you didn’t even want to share your juice with me!”

“i will literally piss on you right now.”

losing interest in the bickering duo behind you, your attention diverted to the third, brooding toddler beside you in the driver’s seat. you had spent majority of the drive admiring the way iwa handled himself behind the wheel; the flex of his arms under the fitted cotton of his blue long sleeve as he turned the wheel, and how the pads of his long fingers would tap against the worn leather to the beat of whatever tune began playing on shuffle. yet out of everything, it was when iwa took to mumbling the lyrics of whichever cheesy love song you were belting out to, that you found yourself falling even deeper into the pit of your affections for him.

throughout the drive, iwa had mostly managed to ignore the others’ antics - with your intervention of course. but with how tight his grip on the steering wheel had become from the squabbling in the backseat, and the dark look brewing under his cap; it was clear how close he was to losing his cool.

extending your arm out in front of him, you offer the hershey bar in your hand, brushing it against the pout of his bottom lip. iwa’s olive eyes glance questioningly at you from the side, to which you only offer a small grin.

“take a bite.” you order. the, ‘you look like you need it,’ is silent, but obvious in the way you prod the treat at his closed mouth.

“mmph-”

his eyes returned to the road before him as he parted his lips, pink tongue making a brief appearance before he took a small bite of your chocolate. you attempt to retract your arm, until iwa moves one hand to grab your wrist; bringing you back to him to take a bigger bite of the sweet, thumb rubbing against the inner side of your palm.

the corner of his mouth tugs upwards, as he mumbles a small, “thank you.”

heat floods your cheeks, and you catch yourself before you drop the chocolate on his lap. distracted by the deafening beat of your heart pounding in your ears, you don’t notice the silence that fills the car, or the not-so subtle click of mattsun snapping a photo of the two of you in the front and sending it to the group chat. you’re pulled out of your slight trance, by a flash of peach entering your field of view.

“that was disgusting...ly sweet. and now i suddenly need to puke, so hurry it up would you.”

as makki leans back, mattsun is quick to replace him, popping his head between you and iwa.

“don’t just ignore me, y/n, feed me chocolate too!”

rolling your eyes, you shove the bar in his mouth; the rest of you three laugh as he falls back into his seat, all the while he happily munches on the treat.

a little time passes before iwa’s flicking his indicator, signalling his turn into the free parking space outside the nature reserve. he shifts the gear into park before everyone piles out - makki walking over to wrap his thick, fossil grey scarf around your neck, the cashmere soft against your skin; while mattsun offers to carry your little backpack, only sending you a sly smile when you question his reasoning for taking the bag from you. you hug iwa’s offered arm to your chest, as the four of you start trekking along the uneven pathways leading towards lake kawaguchi. the walk isn’t necessarily long, but none of you are in a rush - strolling leisurely and enjoying the atmosphere.

and when you finally reach the end of your walk, you still yourself, awestruck by the beauty surrounding you. the glassy lake shimmering under the afternoon rays, crisp maple leaves painted red, swaying to the breezy flow of the cool wind, and the tinkling laughter from young children running about on the golden fields - filled your chest with warmth.

“it’s so beautiful here.”

your voice comes out as a whisper for only iwa’s ears to hear; with makki off to relieve himself and mattsun trailing after him, acting as if you didn’t see him rummaging through your snacks. iwa only hums in agreement, missing the way he hasn’t even acknowledged the view, his gaze set solely on you.

this is what the tradition of momijigari meant; taking time away from your busy schedule to spend a moment to enjoy this small piece of life. and of course, capturing the moment with some of your favourite people on camera. so when you busied yourself with taking photos with the towering men, it really shouldn’t have surprised you when your phone began to buzz with an incoming facetime call.

sliding your thumb across the screen to answer the call, you’re greeted by the sight of oikawa’s toothy grin; illuminated by a bright light you knew had to be artificial, since it was nearing two a.m. in argentina.

“yahoo, y/n-chan! you didn’t think i’d miss out on a photoshoot did you? i already missed out on you feeding me chocolate!” you shoot an embarrassed glanced at iwa, noticing the slight furrow between his brows and the faint dust of pink across his cheeks.

“photoshoot…?” a confused makki mumbles behind you.

mattsun leans over your shoulder, shoving his face in the camera. “oi, isn’t it late for you?”

you raise a single shaped brow as oikawa scoffs, brushing his fingers through his perfectly styled hair. “the pretty face of this group has finally blessed you, and that’s all you have to say?” mattsun scrunches his face in offence, as oikawa continues. “besides, i may be in a different country but i refuse to miss out!”

and it was because of his soft pout that you found yourself posing with your phone by your face, making sure to catch oikawa’s best angles; having long given up on questioning the setter and his antics. the so-called photoshoot came to an abrupt end later on when a tired and cranky oikawa yawned, apparently ruining another photo according to him, and iwa’s finger just so happened to slip and disconnect the video call.

“he’s stubborn.” was all he had said when you, makki and mattsun side eyed him. “we should head back home before it gets late.”

the drive back to tokyo seemed relatively faster than the journey to fujikawaguchiko. it was as if your body went into autopilot as you sat behind the wheel, this time taking responsibility as the driver while the boys napped; only coming to when you were parking iwa’s truck into their apartment’s parking lot, moments after the sun had set.

it was a silent and unanimous decision to order take out for dinner, the four of you seated around the black walnut dining table to dig in. meal times with the boys were hectic, and competitive for the most part - it was survival of the fittest. you were often being challenged by mattsun - tonight having lost the last few gyoza to him.

though it became obvious who the real loser was when mattsun flopped his head onto your lap, while you were lounging out on the settee.

“y/n~” mattsun drawled out. “rub my belly, it hurts!”

“no.”

“please, y/n~! my one and only best friend, the moon to my stars, the curry to my rice-”

he releases a satisfied sigh once you reach a hand out to press your palm against his stomach, rubbing soothing circles to stop his whining; and you catch makki roll his beady eyes at the two of you, as he flicks through suggested films to watch on netflix. iwa strolls into the living room, pillows and a comforter stacked in his arms; laying them neatly on the couch he shares with you on movie nights.

“oh, iwa, could you send me the photos please?” he nods his head once, barely glancing over at you and mattsun; pulling out his phone and dropping himself unceremoniously across the adjacent sofa. “thank you.” you call out once your phone pings with several notifications.

still rubbing mattsun’s stomach, your free hand casually scrolls through the pictures from today.

you snicker to yourself at the first series of chaotic images. a selfie with smushed faces pressed together and a phone-sized oikawa tucked right under your jaw, a blurry pic of the boys throwing vermillion leaves at each other, and even a timed snapshot where you, mattsun and makki had leapt on iwa’s back - your legs wrapped around his torso, while makki squished you from behind, and mattsun had flopped himself on top of the pile. there was even a shot of the aftermath, your phone and oikawa somehow surviving the tumble, and a deadpanned iwa staring straight at the camera as the three of you behind him cackled with your heads thrown back.

at least a few wholesome pictures had been captured. a sweet group photo with all of you huddled by each other in front of a vibrant maple tree; you and iwa were flanked by mattsun and makki respectively, as oikawa was held between you and iwa like a prized trophy. even a rare moment where makki and mattsun had their arms hooked around each other, with easy going grins on both of their faces, had been caught.

butterflies erupted in your tummy, fluttering about once you swiped to the next photo. it was a candid shot of you and iwa standing by the brilliant blue lake front. you were leaning into his side, holding two leaves at the top of your head to mimic cat ears, face tilted upwards. giggling, your eyes were shut, and only now can you see that you missed the soft smile iwa donned looking down at you.

it was almost painful to admit that together you looked like a couple, and it didn’t help that most times you even acted as such. sneaking a glance at the man in question, you watch him chatting quietly to makki, gripping your phone tightly in your grasp at the sound of him laughing at whatever snide comment escaped your peach-haired friend. you couldn’t help but sigh, being in love with one of your best friends only got harder each day.

unknowingly you had already swiped to the last photo iwa had sent, so when you return your gaze the screen, you shriek; dropping your phone flat on mattsun’s face.

“um, what the fuck, ow.”

iwa’s sharp eyes shoot towards you instantly. “what’s wrong?”

you only shake your head, warmth filling your cheeks and an itch you just can’t scratch prickling under your skin. makki only shrugs, shifting his attention back to the television. iwa is more hesitant, the feeling of his olive eyes giving you a once over does nothing to calm your nerves from being sent into overdrive. when he finally turns away, you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“ugh, what even had you going even more crazy than usual all of a sudden?” mattsun groans from your lap. as he reaches to lift your phone off of his face, you’re quick to snatch the device away.

“n-nothing!” he only raises a thick brow at your defensive tone, before grabbing your hand to continue your ministrations.

glancing around the room, you pull the screen close to your face; taking in the photo, you felt your mouth run dry.

there was no way this could have been sent to you on purpose - because the sight of a shirtless iwa at his second home, the gym, was definitely not taken at lake kawaguchi. anyone with eyes could tell how ripped iwa was under his fitted shirts. but over the past few months you had noticed that he’d run off to the gym more often; and it was obvious in the way his clothes struggled to stretch over his bulked up build these days.

it was a mid work out, mirror selfie; iwa’s dark, mocha coloured hair plastered to his forehead, bare chest glistening from the sweat dripping down from his neck. he was seated on the rubber floor, one long, tanned leg stretched out in front of him with the other bent at the knee, elbow resting loosely against his leg. your eyes greedily took in the defined dips of his toned stomach, dark snail trail leading downwards to the evident bulge of his grey shorts; the hem cutting into the flexed muscles of his thighs.

the heat pooling between your thighs as your imagination ran wild was just about to peak when-

“oi, y/n.” you almost jump, locking your screen, and blinking away the dazed look in your eyes. when your vision cleared, you found makki standing in front of you. “we’re gonna watch the movie now.”

“oh, right.”

mattsun rolls off your lap with a groan, complaining to makki about who is gonna rub his belly now, while you stand up. shuffling over to iwa, he stretches before shifting and making room for you to squeeze in next to him.

“c’mere.” he mumbles, throwing his arm around you and pulling you into his side.

the beat of your pounding heart is almost deafening in your ears, you’re near to hyperventilating, as your mind is sent into overdrive. the two of you were always cuddling platonically during movies, ever since the one time you had complained about being cold in their apartment. but this time was different. ‘is this how he felt when you had sent a picture of your new lingerie?’ you think to yourself. you spend the next hour deep in your thoughts, completely lost to whatever is happening in the sci-fi film makki had chosen, and when the end credits start rolling on the screen - iwa announces he’ll drop you off back to your dorm.

it’s close to midnight; so makki wishes you a goodnight, as a sleepy mattsun rests against his shoulder, making grabby hands for you not to go. you wave as you leave, following after iwa who opens the passenger side door of his truck, helping you jump up into the seat, before closing the door and making his way to the driver’s side.

your dorm isn’t too far from their apartment complex, so you’re not surprised at how quick the ride is. the street is unusually busy, yet completely void of any roaming students. and with no private parking for students, iwa’s forced to pull up near a secluded cluster of tall trees, a bit away from the dorm entrance.

“i’ll walk you in.” iwa says, leaving no room for argument. he reaches for his phone, as a message flashes across his screen. “oh, oikawa asked why you’ve been ignoring his messages.”

“huh?” you flip your own phone in your hand, watching as the facial recognition unlocks and suddenly iwa’s gym selfie is on full display for the both of you. it takes a moment for you to process the situation, and all you can manage is a simple, “oh,” as you resist the urge to fling your phone out of the window.

“nice photo.” iwa pipes up, you don’t even try to look at him, but the smirk in his tone is evident. “where’d you get it?”

his question throws you off, and you’re quick to turn your head to narrow your eyes at him. “what do you mean? iwa, you literally sent it to me?!”

“really? shit i must have done it by accident.”

“an accident?”

“yeah, like what you did to me. remember?”

you gasp, moving back almost as if you’ve been struck, while iwa simply laughs at your expression. a full on belly laugh that has him throwing his head back, illuminated by the glow emitting through his open moon roof. you should’ve been dwelling in the embarrassment that came with him turning your own words back on you - yet you found your own laughter mixing in with his. only when both of you had calmed down a bit, did an electrified silence fill the car.

fiddling with your phone in your lap, the strands of hair curtaining the sides of your face, is brushed aside and tucked behind the cuff of your ear. glancing at iwa, the corner of his mouth is pulled up into a fond smile as his thumb caresses the shell of your ear.

“sorry for teasing you, pretty lady. couldn’t help myself after you sent me that picture looking all pretty in pink.”

“i…” words escape you as his large hand trails down the side of your cheek. you’re suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to do something - it’s almost at the tip of your tongue, before you grab at his wrist and whisper a, “fuck it.”

leaning over the middle, you reach a hand to hold the back of his head as your lips press against his own. lips even softer than they appeared, the lingering taste of his wild cherry lip balm, the same one you owned, tasted sweeter than you remembered. after a moment, of the kiss not being reciprocated, you pull back.

“just had to do it once.” you murmur, lips still tingling.

iwa’s minty breath fans across your face as he releases an airy sigh. “then let’s do it a second time.”

this time his hand wraps loosely around your neck, pulling you towards him, and slanting his mouth over yours. you moan into the kiss as his tongue darts out to tease your lower lip. leaning into him, you almost keel forward as this time he pulls away. slightly breathless, you open your eyes to take in the barely restrained lust and adoration in his handsome features, mimicking you’re own.

“third time’s a charm, right?”

the devilish grin iwa gives you in response to your innocently posed question, has you climbing over the centre console. at the same time he’s rolling the chair back away from the leather steering wheel, making space for you to slide onto his lap and straddle him. molding your lips to his, the feeling of your tongue exploring his mouth and you grinding into him slowly; has him release a hiss as his hands grab at the fullness of your ass.

tugging at his collar, your words are muffled against his mouth. “take this off, now.”

he chuckles at your demand, pulling the hem of his shirt past the bulk of his shoulders and over his head - blindly throwing it to the backseat. you drag your eyes over the sight of his broad chest, taking in every delicious dip of his stomach; leaning forward, your tongue licks a tentative stripe along his neck, that has iwa’s breath hitch before peppering wet kisses along his skin. your hands roam around his toned body, while his own larger ones slide under your top; a searing hot trail following his exploration of your body. he draws small circles at your hips, leading up to hold your waist and bring your even closer against him.

“your turn, baby.” he whispers to you, fisting the bottom half of your top. “be fair to me, i wanna see more of you.”

sitting up straight in his lap, you slip the thin top over your head; following his suit in flinging it to the backseat. your hair brushed past your bare shoulders, exposed skin feeling the chill of the autumn night; but the look in iwa’s olive eyes, irradiated by the moonlight streaming in from the uncovered moonroof, was scorching hot. rough palms, flat against your smooth skin, slid over your tummy, teasing the sheer mesh of your bra, before playing with the baby blue ribbons on the straps.

“y/n.” iwa groans out, tracing the floral stitching and feeling the hardened nubs of your nipples under the fabric. with the moon haloing behind you, the way he stares up at you is so raw and intense, it has you frozen in anticipation. “you look so fucking beautiful in blue.”

he doesn’t wait for your response as he reaches behind you to unhook your bra, freeing your breasts from its confines. iwa’s quick to take a pebbled nub into his hot mouth, suckling as his fingers tweak the other. your fingers thread through his dark locks, when he moves and switches his focus; a lewd string of saliva dragging from your nipple to his pink tongue. stuttered grinding from his mouth distracting you, had you reaching a hand between each other to palm his erection - wanting to ease some of the tension. but iwa’s quick to snatch your hand away.

“iwa...let me touch you?”

releasing you from his mouth, he kisses the pout from your lips. “no, baby, don’t worry about me.”

“why not?” you whine.

“i wanna make you feel real good, gotta prep you for me first. is that okay with you, baby?” he only smiles softly as you start to relax against him. “i need to know if you’re okay with this. care about you so much, i just want you to be comfortable. let me know if you wanna stop right now.”

“no, h-haji...please, i don’t want to stop. i want you so bad. i need you, ah-”

your consent was all he needed before he pulls you back into him, kissing you so slow you feel dizzy; his hands travel low on your body, working the button of your jeans, as your fingers dig into his shoulders. when he breaks away from you, he helps you slip out of the dark denim, tugging each pant leg off until all you wearing is the stringy, baby blue panties that leaves little to the imagination.

“fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me.” iwa groans out, rubbing a hand across his face as you giggle lightly. while you hover over him, he quickly strips off his pants, kicking them off onto the floor before grabbing onto your hips. “flip around on me, baby. that’s right, face the front.”

settling down onto his lap, the thin cotton of his briefs does nothing to hide the print of his hard-on he’s sporting underneath. and with your back pressed to his warm chest, you roll your hips teasingly into him.

“come on, haji...let me help you.” you huff, continuing to grind against him.

“oi, cut it out.”

his grip on your hips tighten in warning, and you gasp as he manhandles you easily. shifting you around so that the heel of your left foot digs into his thigh, the other secured at the edge of the leather wheel; he has your legs wide open. before you can even think about any stragglers catching you so vulnerable; iwa hooks his arm under your thigh, pads of his fingers brushing over your clothed pussy.

“haaaa~” you breathe out, hips jerking into his touch.

“fuck baby, your panties are soaked.” he continues to tease you over the drenched crotch of your panties. iwa rubs lazy circles, casually sliding under the material to play with your silk folds. his touches have you yearning for more, as you feel yourself slowly going insane as he starts to coat his fingers in your slick.

“mmm...touch me, haji...properly.”

wriggling around in his embrace, you keen once he pulls his hand away from you; holding his fingers before you, showing off how they glisten so prettily in under the moon. and then you watch over your shoulder as he leads his hand to his mouth, and licks his fingers clean.

“you taste so fucking sweet.” he’s quick to bring his fingers back to your drooling pussy, coating his fingers once again, but this time bringing them to your own lips. “here, have a taste for yourself.”

opening your mouth, iwa wastes no time pressing his long digits flat against your tongue. sucking on his fingers, you savour the saccharine essence of your pussy; moaning at your own flavour sending your tastebuds into overdrive. iwa hums, heated gaze taking in the way you take his fingers in your mouth; he slowly pulls them back out with a pop - smiling softly at the way you stare at him, all wide-eyed and wanton.

“should we get you out of these messy panties now, baby?”

at your eager nods, iwa presses a kiss to your shoulder as he has you lift your hips up; slipping your soaked panties off, and placing them on the passenger seat side the two of you. sitting you back down against him, he hooks both arms around the undersides of your thighs, grabbing at your soft flesh and spreading you wide open for him. you whimper when a big hand cups your sex, rough palm brushing against your throbbing clit.

“shh.” iwa coos, entranced with how you’re rolling your hips to grind against his hand. “i got you.”

he presses his thumb against your clit, circling the sensitive bud peaking past your puffy lips; as his middle finger teases your slit. slowly he pushes his finger inside you, a heavy, relieved moan escapes your throat, as he easily slides in and out of you. through heavy lidded eyes you watch as fog clouds the windows of iwa’s truck, the glass steamy; while perspiration collects between your bodies. you’re brought back to focus on iwa, when he teases a second finger against your slit, dipping inside you and stretching you out even more. hissing, you clench around him; the lewd squelches as he fucks you with his thick fingers, has you digging your heels into his thigh and the steering wheel.

the way iwa’s fingers reaches deeper inside than you could ever on your own, and the added stimulation to your clit, has the tightening coil in your belly snap as you cum all over his hand.

“oh baby, feels good doesn’t it?”

“yeshhh...h-haji, mmph-”

he doesn’t stop pumping you with his fingers, letting you ride out your orgasm to the end. even when you feel the high descend, twitching at the slight overstim, you expect him to stop. but all he does is bury his face in the crook between your shoulder and neck, dragging his teeth across the sensitive skin as the hand not occupied with your pussy, fondles your ass. you lean into him, mewling at his touches when your breath hitches at a new sensation.

“haji, no! it’s dirty!”

the hand at your ass had moved to pet at your puckered hole - completely drenched in your cum, he was sure he could slide a single finger in with ease. and he was right. the feeling of your tight hole being prodded, stretched by the tip of his forefinger, before sucking the entire digit inside - had you throwing your head back in pleasure.

“f-ah-uck! oh shit, nghhh!”

“you gonna cum again for me, baby?”

the feeling of both your ass and pussy being stuffed full of iwa’s fingers is overwhelming. you’re a panting and moaning mess, writhing on top of him. and when the back of your head is thrown back into iwa’s shoulder, all you can see is hazy stars in the sky as you stare up, completely intoxicated by the feeling of his fingers moving inside you - brushing against the thin barrier of skin between your two holes. the familiar pressure in your tummy has you bucking your hips and crying out.

“you’re squeezing my fingers so tight.” he maintains the same steady pace, fucking his fingers into you nice and deep, while working your sensitive clit. its only a few seconds later he hits a particular spot that has you jolting forward, crying out at your sudden release. “shit, that’s right, i can feel you cumming all over my hands again, baby.”

you can barely think straight as your body trembles from the aftershocks of your second orgasm. still in a daze, iwa eases his fingers out of your twitching holes, and you groan at the empty feeling.

“you okay?” iwa asks, wrapping his arm around your waist. you nod, chest heaving as you attempt to steady your breathing. “you think you can cum one more time from my fingers-”

“no!” you grab at his wrists when he moves to play with you again. “i need you inside me, haji. please.”

whatever calm iwa had possessed while pleasuring you had vanished at your words. sticky hands lifted you up by your waist, turning you around to straddle him - while he slightly lowered the back of his seat. lip locked, your hands find themselves wrapped around the nape of his neck, while iwa’s hands grab at your body - stilling your wriggling form as he grinds up into you.

without breaking the kiss, you reach down and ease your fingers under the elastic waistband of his briefs; hand brushing against the tip of iwa’s cock. that earns you a muffled groan as he allows you to hover over him and slide the boxer briefs down his muscled thighs. your mouth salivates at the sight of his cock slapping against his toned stomach. he was easily the biggest you’d ever seen, with a thick vein on the underside, and a red, angry tip leaking pre-cum.

“fuck, you’re so big haji.”

he hisses when your hand touches him, you can barely wrap your fingers around him; and you start to question if he could even fit inside you. iwa notices the slight hesitation in your movements.

“we don’t have to.” he reassures, brushing the hair out of your lust filled eyes. “i can play with you some more, or i can eat you out in the back seat-”

“-haji.” you cut him off, stroke him before lining him at your dripping entrance, grinding the leaking tip across your slit. “i’ve wanted this for so long.” lowering yourself, you gasp at the delicious stretch of his tip entering you. “i’ve wanted you for so long. don’t hold back, give me everything.” and with that, you completely impale yourself on his cock.

“fuck, y/n, i can feel you clamping down on me- shit baby, you gotta move.”

lifting one leg at a time, you shift around off of your knees, steadying yourself on your tip toes; before grabbing onto iwa’s shoulders and starting to slowly ride him. his hands roam across your body freely, loving squeezes trailed in their path, as praise after praise is whispered out to you.

“you take my cock so well, fuck.”

your fingers dig into his shoulder blades as you quicken your pace. bouncing yourself faster on his fat cock, iwa’s attention is drawn to to the way your breasts move in front of him; massaging the soft flesh, and then leaning forward to smush his face between them.

“could stay right here forever.” his muffled voice croons.

you whimper at the feeling of his hot tongue dragging a wet trail down the valley between your breasts, and you’re certain plum love bites will have bloomed across your chest by sunrise. your arms shoot up to press against the foggy glass of the moon roof above you, palms pressed flat against the steamy window, handprints painted on the transparent screen - as you bounce harder and faster. the lewd sound of your ass slapping against his thighs and of your pussy sucking him in with each stroke; shows how desperate you are to cum again.

“you’ll cum on my cock, won’t you baby? i can feel how close you are, shit, you’re so close aren’t you?”

the way you ride him gradually becomes sloppier the closer you are to cumming, so when he holds your waist and helps you bounce on him, you cry out in relief.

“f-fuck, feels s’g-good, haji! nghh, yes, yes, yes-!”

only as he reaches a hand down to roll your sensitive clit between his index and thumb, do you fall apart on his cock. your velvety walls spasm around him as he continues to fuck you through your high in chase of his own, overstimming you even more as you cream all over him, tongue lolling out. the sheer intensity of your orgasm has you collapsing forward onto his heaving chest, a babbling mess, while he holds you to him.

“you made such a mess on me, baby.” he huffs out.

“h-haji.” you whimper into his neck, arms looped around his. “s’too sensitive, haaa~”

your knees are by his hips, the tops of your feet pressed against his inner thighs, as he rolls his hips into you. large hands slide down your spine, over the curve of your ass to knead the smooth flesh in his palms.

“just hold on to me baby. you got one last one for me, don’t you?” all you can do is nod, releasing an onslaught of mewls and moans. “that’s a good girl, fuck.”

iwa is relentless in pursuit of his own orgasm - fucking into you at a punishing pace that has your mouth jar open in a silent cry, his truck jolting with each snap of his hips. your juices completely drench his cock, allowing him to slide in and out of you with ease, and you’re sure by now your pussy has been shaped out by the imprint of his cock. you can feel him throbbing inside of you, close to his climax; while his fingers dig into your ass shoving you down on his cock, and hitting your sweet spot over and over that you can’t help but gush all over him yet again.

“h-ah-ji, hnghh!” you sob, your body spent and thighs slick with your cum.

iwa only lasts a little longer with the way you were clenching down on him; pulling out of your fucked out pussy, and setting you on his thighs. he fists his cock in his hand, jerking himself a few times before thick, white cum spurts out - coating his entire hand and painting his stomach.

“mmm baby, that was fucking amazing.” he growls out, leaning back into the seat to catch his breath. “d’you feel okay?”

you only hum, entranced by how much cum he spilled. or wasted, you thought to yourself.

“can you reach over to the back and grab the towel in my gym bag, gotta clean us up…” your lack of focus has iwa trailing off. “y/n?”

“we don’t need the towel.”

reaching for the hand covered in his seed, you bring it to your mouth. iwa tries to question what you meant by that, though he’s cut off when you lick a tentative strip across his palm. gathering his cum on your tongue, you swirl his essence around in your mouth, before swallowing. you make a show of taking each finger in your mouth, sucking his cum clean. once his hand is licked clean, you slide down his lap; ready to do the same over his abs.

“you’re so good to me, y/n.” iwa runs his fingers through your hair, and then pats your head. “y/n?” he calls out again, still petting your head just as your about to trace the dips of his stomach with your tongue.

“hmm?”

“y/n? y/n?”

you move back away from him. “what?”

“y/n? oi, y/n? wake up!”

iwa watches as you jolt up from where you had fallen asleep on his lap. makki, who had been hovering over you, moves away as you try to swat at him - a confused look on your face.

“huh?”

“you fell asleep.” makki informs her. “you were interrupting the movie. if you’re that tired, just sleep in one of our rooms.”

lazed out on the other couch, mattsun pipes up; “yeah, you were making these ugly noises and then iwa said you licked his hand, what a weirdo.”

he only clears his throat awkwardly, finding a sudden interest in the beige walls of their living room. he misses the horrified expression on your pretty face, scrunched up in utter embarrassment, before you turn to start arguing with mattsun.

iwa was grateful for the pillow resting over lap, hiding the evident hard-on he was sporting. he wanted to argue with mattsun too, because the sounds you made were definitely far from ugly.

#haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu smut #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi smut #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #oikawa tooru #matsukawa issei #hanamaki takahiro #haikyuu fluff

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possiblyimbiassed · 3 years

Text

The lying liars who lie

Years and years late to the party, I’ve finally gotten my hands on all the DVDs of BBC Sherlock, and I thought it would be fun to watch the extra material carefully, one piece after another, and also listen to at least some of the show makers’ commentary of the episodes. But at this point, after S4 where DVDs seemed to be a constant lying device in general, I tend to look at them with a bit more suspicious eyes...

I still love the show of course, but now that I’ve taken this deep dive into all the special features, I find them a truly hard thing to try to wrap my head around. Even this long after the fact, I’m amazed by the amount of shameless, self-congratulatory BS in the DVDs, where the people involved can’t have enough of complimenting each other and their show, while they skillfully avoid to discuss anything actually meaningful about the plot line. ;) For example, Moffat claims in the S2 DVD that “In fact, you’ll never see a more obsessively authentic version of Sherlock Holmes than this one”. But if we follow their light-hearted commentary, which basically takes the show at face value, I’d call that not just hyperbole, but an outright lie. If you want to see the ‘authentic’ stories from ACD’s work in this show, you’ll definitely need to go much deeper into the subtext and meta levels - neither of which are mentioned on these DVDs of course. Here’s my own (rather subjective) ‘review’ of the whole thing, trying to pinpoint why I view most of the commentary of the show from its own makers as an advanced art of deception.

(My musings under the cut)

Series 1 - a wealth of extra material

First of all - as many of you probably knew already - the whole of the Unaired Pilot is added to the DVD of S1. In the extra material about the making of the series, they (Sue Vertue, Mofftiss and others) talk about what things they changed between the Pilot and ASiP, claiming that many changes were necessary improvements once they knew that they had a whole series and a lot more time at their disposal.

Which I can perfectly understand and agree with in general. But I think what’s missing in their discussions is more interesting than what’s actually there (”Mind the gap” ;) ). Things that I would expect from the show makers when they go to the trouble of comparing the pilot version with the aired product. There’s not a word, for example, about the fact that they added both Mycroft and Moriarty to the story in ASiP - two characters who later turn out to play major roles and appear in almost every other episode until the end of TFP. Or about the choice that one of the screenwriters would play Mycroft.

Neither do they discuss why they chose to relocate the place where Sherlock was challenged by the cabbie from 221B to Roland Kerr’s School of Further Education. Instead they focus on the details, like for example the new design of the interior of 221B.

Not to mention the fact that almost every scene in the Pilot is mirrored in ASiP (as pointed out long ago by @kateis-cakeis X), but at Angelo’s in the Pilot Sherlock follows the events with the cabbie while looking in an actual mirror. I even noticed that in the Pilot the cabbie is offering Sherlock dark-coloured bottles with the pills in them, while in ASiP those bottles are transparent, as if the cabbie is offering Sherlock to play Black or White in the chess game that he is simulating. What’s with all these mirrors, though? Not a word on the DVD... ;)

Now, even though these rather remarkable choices are neglected together with a great bunch of minor ones, I still think that the most interesting fact about all this is that they actually included the whole pilot version within this DVD, which is sold by the franchise. Why even do this, when it raises far more questions than it answers? The only logical reason I can come up with is that they’re laying out a track of little hints that anyone with a deep enough interest in the show to actually buy the DVDs can try to follow. And it seems to me that lying by omission is one of the first steps in the long line of cryptic and misleading author comments on this show. But at the same time, they clearly want the fans to have access to it all, even the abandoned version.

Moving on to Series 2, time for bigger lies

In the extra material of this DVD Benedict himself describes how his character "faces one of his deadliest enemies in the shape of Love, and it comes in the form of Irene Adler, who is this extraordinary dominatrix [insert here a bunch of superlatives regarding Adler]...”. And then we see how Adler whips Sherlock with a riding crop (without any kind of consent, I have to add) while he’s lying on the floor, and we have Lara Pulver telling us how it was to have a go at Benedict on set. So Holmes whips dead bodies and Adler whips living; seems like a match made in hell! :))

Gatiss claims, grinning with his whole face, that “they’re clearly, absolutely made for each other”. OK, so I think we can see Sherlock being intellectually impressed by Adler, and even trying to protect her from Mycroft, and we can see John acting jealously. We can also see her being dressed and styled as a perfect, female mirror of Sherlock. But I’m still at a loss what all this has to do with love on Sherlock’s part? Especially since he’s not even responding in any fashion to her various attempts at seducing him.

And there’s more: Paul McGuigan, the director of ASiB, claims that the scene where Sherlock has a conversation with Adler inside his Mind Palace about the crime case with the car that backfires "is a part of a kind of love story, if you like...” No, I don’t. Maybe it’s just me, but if their aim really was to convey to their audience a love story between Sherlock and The Woman, I think they failed miserably. All I see is a guy ’mansplaining’ to a clever woman how to use her brain, while she’s trying to flirt with him by expressing her admiration (to no avail, though) and make deductions at the same time. Nothing new under the sun, really. John did the same thing repeatedly in ASiP (without making own deductions) and got far more attention from Sherlock, but I’ve never heard any of the show makers call that ”a love story”. But by ’lie-splaining’ the scene with Irene to the audience, they try to manipulate us all to see it as such...

In all the direct commentary of this episode, where Steven, Mark, Sue, Benedict and Lara are present, I get the impression that every time they even touch on the relationship between Sherlock and John, they hurry to add the term “friendship” or “man love” or similar words in case they forgot them at first, avoiding even the tiniest possibility that there could be anything more going on between them. They even explain that when Irene calls them “a couple” she does not mean anything romantic. This whole approach feels almost paranoic in the midst of all the laid-back jokes and light-hearted talk about the filming. It’s as if a sort of restrictive, heteronormative filter or blanket is being constantly applied, to teach the audience the ‘no homo’ lesson of it all. And the more I listen to this, the more tiresome it becomes.

In the commentary Moffat does reveal an interesting detail, though: that the ‘Flight of the Dead’ in ASiB was inspired by a cut out scene in the Bond movie On Her Majesty's Secret Service. To me this is just one more reason to question the ‘authentic’ quality of this scene, as opposed to possibly taking place in Sherlock’s Mind Palace. But I digress...

Listening to the commentary in general, it’s like it’s aimed to distract the attention from what’s going on at the screen rather than highlight it and try to explain their intentions. They do mention that Irene didn’t actually ‘beat’ Sherlock in the end of ASiB, but there’s no explanation of this obvious deviation from canon, where Adler does indeed fool Holmes, taking advantage of his prejudices.

The rest of the extra material of S2 is mostly about technical stuff, special effects and such, and also about filming techniques and Benedict’s delivery of fast deductions. But the part I really do love is the one where Andrew Scott talks about how much he enjoyed playing the scene where Moriarty dances before breaking into the Crown Jewels. That’s one of my favorite scenes of he whole show. :) Also, the takeaway message from this DVD is Moffat’s words at the end:

“These are still the formative years of Sherlock Holmes, and the most important thing about this series is not that it’s updated; it’s the fact that those two men are still young and they’re still at the beginning of what they don’t yet know is gonna be a lifelong partnership”.

And then comes Series 3...

...and its extra material, with the most blatant attempts at deception so far, I believe. At this point Sherlock is called a “psychopath” by both the show’s characters, John’s blog, Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman as if it were true, which is a big deviation from ACD canon. That simply doesn’t happen there; while Holmes is sometimes described as eccentric, no one in the books is ever claiming that Sherlock Holmes has some kind of mental illness leaning towards cruelty and egotism - not even his enemies say this about him. In the show, however, they begin in ASiP with making him torture a dying man for information (something that is not included in the Pilot). And in S3, where they avoid discussing the reason why they turned Mary Morstan into a ruthless assassin, this major shift is glossed over by the fact that in the same episode (HLV) they also turn Sherlock into a murderer, who cold-bloodedly blows the brains out of a blackmailer for threatening to make said assassin’s crimes public.

But without ever getting into the “why” of it all, the cast and crew seem overly happy and smiling describing these rather morbid choices as something positive; “fantastic”, "fresh and new” and "amazing” are their choice of words. Benedict claims that Mary, who has literally shot and almost killed Sherlock in HLV, is now "a new best friend of Sherlock’s”. Amanda claims that Mary “is protecting John” when she shoots Sherlock in the chest. Now they’re both psychopaths, and poor little John is forced to stomach them both because he’s addicted to danger. In Amanda’s words, Mary also “kind of gets in between the two of them, but she wants them to be together as well”. Which is a load of BS considering that Mary tries to kill the protagonist of the story.

Lars Mikkelsen thinks it’s “such a good script” because “you’re mislead as an audience”. But he never gets the chance to expand on what the misleading actually contains, because then Mofftiss cut in to express how much they love playing with “what ifs”. As if this whole mega-budget project of a show were just a big experimental playground without any actual story to tell.

Benedict repeats his line from HLV that Magnussen “preys on people who are different” and Moffat also says he “exploits people who are different”. Which is really confusing, considering what we can see Magnussen actually do in the show. Lady Smallwood and John Garvie are two well-established, powerful governmental politicians whom Magnussen blackmails by finding their respective pressure points. In Garvie’s case his pressure point seems to be alcohol problems in his past, but according to media he’s later arrested on charges of corruption. Lady Smallwood is blackmailed on the basis of her husband having sent compromising letters to a minor many years ago, in spite of later claiming that he thought she was older and stopped when he found out the truth. And then Magnussen is blackmailing an assassin who recently threatened to execute him but shot Sherlock Holmes instead, in order to try to get at Sherlock’s brother Mycroft, another powerful governmental figure.

But what does media seeking out dirt on certain people in power and their families have to do with “people who are different”? Despicable as the method may be, isn’t this unfortunately how political power play usually works in our society? Or are TPTB somehow a repressed minority group now? Unless this whole “people who are different” accusation is actually about something entirely different, something that none of the show makers even cares to mention... ;)

In these DVDs, none of the involved persons is ever discussing the change of roles with regards to canon, though, or the (lack of) logics in this turn of events, or even a hint about the narrative motivation behind them. It’s all about the great Drama, the extraordinary visual effects and the aim to endlessly “surprise the audience”. Which is fine by me to a certain extent, but when this is all that’s being said, it feels extremely superficial, as if the audience is merely seen as a bunch of consumers that have to be triggered more and more by horror, special effects and cliff hangers to be able to appreciate the show. (“Warm paste” indeed, like Gatiss has later criticized some viewers of wanting...) While the "why”; the idea behind this surrealistic adaptation, made by self-proclaimed fanboys of ACD, is not even touched upon. Around this, the silence is total and therefore totally confusing.

Maybe I shouldn’t even go into Series 4...

...but why not, since I’ve already started? :)

First of all, there’s a lot of extra material on this DVD and I particularly love the parts about the music and composing and Arwel Wyn Jones’ work with the design and build-up of John’s and Mary’s flat and the interior of 221B. Those bits are truly enjoyable. What I could live without, though, is the leading commentary that kind of instructs us, the audience, how we should interpret the show.

Benedict is on it again on this DVD, telling us that in TST they picked up where they left off in S3 and “It’s a very happy unit of three people that then become four.” Why does he feel the need to make this statement, considering how S3 ended? Actually, if there’s anything I totally fail to see in S4, it’s happiness. The banter between the three of them may seem entertaining for a while, but who could have a relaxed, warm relationship with someone who tried and almost succeeded to kill you less than a year ago? Without any sign of remorse? Now there’s a dark tone of discomfort and mean jokes that feels forced and not even a bit happy to me.

But Martin tells us how excited John and Mary are about starting a family and Amanda mentions how much they’re looking forward to the baby. Again and again it’s repeated, as though trying to rub it in: “they’re in a good place, they’re a loving, married couple”. Yeah, right - a child that (judging by TSoT) wasn’t at all planned and now with an assassin for a mother... Twice we see the new parents complain that their daughter has the mark of Satan on her forehead and debate which horror movie she’s from. The clichéd hypocrisy of it all is sickening, and I’m willing to bet that it’s really meant to be. ;)

But Gatiss chimes in, deciding for us all that the christening of Rosie is “a funny scene” and “they’re enjoying each other, enjoying being on adventures as a three”.

An interesting detail is that Gatiss also tells us that the working name of this episode was “The Adventure of the Melting power Ranger”. So this little blue guy was that important? :) And - even more interesting - is when he says: “Cake is now the code for violent death”. So how should we interpret Sherlock, John and Molly going out to have cake in TLD then, on Sherlock’s (supposed) birthday?

These might be jokes, though, but when they tell us that Sue cries every time she sees Mary’s death I strongly believe they must be joking. How could anyone feel truly moved by this overly sentimental long monologue where far more efforts are put into reacting to Mary’s speech than saving her life? And John’s mooing like a cow, is that also moving? :)

One thing Martin says about TLD that actually disgusts me is regarding the morgue scene where John assaults Sherlock and Sherlock lets it happen: “From there, really, their relationship can only sort of rebuild, that’s the absolute worst it can get”. As if outright physical abuse would be something that makes you want to rebuild a relationship? Wow - just wow... How far can they go with this crap?

Anyway, when we finally arrive at the absurdity of TFP and Sherlock’s ‘secret sister’, everything is of course discussed as if she actually does exist on the given premises, and everything she does is ‘real’, no matter how impossible it would be in real life. The abandonment of any attempt to have the story line make logical sense is skillfully covered up by more distraction with fascinating technicalities of the film making process. This is where Gatiss makes his now almost classic statement that after Sherlock and John jump out of the window at 221B when a grenade explodes there, it’s just “Boop! And they’re fine.”

Of course there’s no serious attempt at explaining this logically. Except perhaps Gatiss claiming that they both landed on Speedy’s awning - whatever good that would do to them, since the awning is leaning downwards, but never mind... But we never even saw that happen, did we? A great deal of time is then dedicated to show all the precautions to have Martin and Ben jumping safely at low level onto a madras supported by empty cardboard boxes.

Sian Brooke did say something interesting about Sherrinford, however, that got me thinking. She said that Eurus “wants revenge for the years and years that she has been held captive” there, isolated, and that in TFP the Holmes children are now “lab rats” and “it’s an experiment”. On a meta level, I think we can indeed see this episode - and maybe the whole show - as a kind of experiment, but maybe we, the audience, are also lab rats? Since Sherrinford is slightly shaped like a film camera (not commented in the extra material, of course), it leads my thought to all the adaptations through the years and years where Holmes and Watson have not been allowed to be together. A whole century when Sherlock Holmes has been held captive, restricted by the very same sort of heteronormative filter that all this extra material imposes; it’s like Sherrinford, isn’t it? Which gives all the more meaning to Moriarty’s arrival to the island, accompanied by Freddy Mercury’s “I want to break free”...

I think I’ll let the final words in this little exposé come from Mark Gatiss in The Writers’ Chat (my bolding):

“Moriarty is a fascinating thing in that in our sea of ongoing lies, one thing we’ve genuinely been completely consistent about is telling people he’s dead. But no-one believes it! And it’s a rather brilliant thing.” Again - self-congratulatory statements. But instead of providing some actual evidence of the death of this character, who has kept popping up in almost every episode since his supposed demise, they think that the more a confirmed liar repeats something, the truer it gets? And the more we’re supposed to believe them? Well, all we can do is wait and see. :)

Tagging some people who might be interested:

@raggedyblue @ebaeschnbliah @sarahthecoat @gosherlocked @lukessense @sagestreet @thepersianslipper

My earlier meta on a similar topic (X)

#bbc sherlock dvds #Deception in BBC Sherlock

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