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d-lissa · 10 months

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Liveblogging TMA - Season 3 - MAG 118-120

"Just because you don’t understand doesn’t mean it’s a lie."

SEASON THREE FINALE

In three parts this time !

Have I mentionned just how much I hate this podcast ? Because I do. Just. Fuck this story. Can't stop pulling at my heartstrings.

At least, this time around I saw most of that coming, so it didn't panick me as much as the last two finales but WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN JONATHAN DREAMS OF THE STATEMENTS HE RECEIVED EXCUSE ME-

I just. We just can't let this man not be traumatized for five minutes, can we ? No wonder the man can't fucking sleep if he always dream of the people he received the statements of dying miserably every night. Is that what the people who gave the statements dream of too ? Or, since everyone mentions feeling better, did he, like, eat the fears they talked about ?

You know what ? I don't know how much The Institute pays its workers, but the man ain't paid enough for this bullshit.

Here's to hoping Peter will propose that therapy thing to him as well whenever he wakes up, if he isn't in on probably sacrificing Jon to the Eye for the Watcher's Crown, that is.

At this point, you know the deal.

THE MASQUERADE :

"Sorry, Elias. I can’t hear you. There’s – a door in the way."

Pfft. I have to say, I was confused for a bit, but I found that beginning extremely funny.

And so we start with Martin burning statements. Probably to make sure that Elias is occupied and can't go magically snooping around. Of course, we know it ends badly for Martin, but man was that moment cathartic. Martin should act up more often, actually.

Meanwhile, at the wax museum, Jon is a worried mess and the canddle work is sloppy. Man, the Stranger could've tried harder at least.

"When you were, um, kidnapped, did you leave a tape recorder here?"

And of course, a tape recorder appeared out of fucking nowhere. I am not even surprised at this point. Might as well, you know ? Thank you The Web, for giving us listeners an opportunity to see this mess happen in real time.

"Oh, so that’s it, isn’t it. Martin’s just acting out. I mean, Daisy’s a “rabid dog,” and Melanie’s a potential killer, Tim’s a – a rogue element, but Martin, oh Martin’s just acting out. He’ll have a cry, and a lie down, and feel much better."

Oof.

I mean, to be fair, his actions does look like more of a temper tantrum than anything else. Like, I know it's a plot and all, but also, compared to our previous resident arsonist, I can't say that Martin is being very intimidating here.

Which is fair, it's not the point, but it's not like he's lying here either, is he ? He wants to be taken seriously. I kind of feel bad for him.

And of course, the entire mom backstory only worsened that feeling. I will not quote it, because I am hurt enough as is, but Jesus fucking Christ, it explains so much about Martin's behaviour and how he interacts with others.

Sorry Martin, I know you love your mother very much, but man what a bitch.

Back at the unknowing, the wax work isn't actually wax work, and Jon is ... Strangely appreciative of the setting ?

"Yes. I suppose it is."

Like, what do you mean, you suppose it is "holy", Jon ? I mean, I guess seeing something so uncomprehensible for the first time would be quite an experience, and to be fair, I myself am quite curious about, but "holy" ?

Terrific, horrific, nauseating. Jon, I feel like you're being too admirative here. It is profane, and something that should scare you. Though, I suppose it does ?

It scares him and he finds it beautiful anyway, or maybe even because of how terrible it is ? Jon, you're still trying to sell the fact that you have some common sense left, don't go full tortured artist on the things that are actively out to get you.

My God, his head must be such a traumatized mess.

Guess he really makes a good Archivist. Always seeking knowledge and reveling in it, despite ... Everything surrounding it. God knows that outside the context, I too would be mesmerized by it all. It sounds like a fucking trip.

"And I guess you don’t need skin to sing. To join the choir."

God, this is messed up, I love it so much. The imagery in this podcast is out of this world.

Speaking of messed up, more Elias scheming his way into being number one hated character of all time and being quite succesful at it.

But before that, a well earned rant from Martin. God, nobody can catch a fucking break in this story.

"Well, I hope you’ve got something better than that pathetic dig at my feelings for Jon."

I really love how the story is so overt about this, about how Martin very much has feelings for Jon and that they very much are romantic. I wonder how they've come to pass.

Still, I'd hardly say that the way Jon treats Martin is that bad. It's not perfect, obviously, and Jon is kind of a bitch, especially in the first season, but he was also overworked taking over a job he had no qualifications in with a member of his staff that had even less qualifications.

And he was hardly needlessly cruel, just cutting with his words, but still willing to help out how he could when Martin needed help.

I just don't think me and the people in this story have the same definition of "treating someone very badly", not going to lie.

But gosh, the sobs did hurt me.

"Tim, contrary to what you think, I did not bring you here to indulge your death wish."

Except that Tim very much came to do just that. The man wanted to go out swinging, with a bang.

At least he got his wish.

But Jon must feel so hurt seeing someone he cares about so ready to give away his life like that.

STRANGER AND STRANGER :

Man, this entire episode is a fucking trip.

In the most litteral of senses.

"Of course you don’t. You can’t. Not anymore."

Jon is confused and lost and doesn't remember anything ever. The way this is all told through an audio format is so amazing, I am genuinely impressed. I feel like if this had an actual visual support, it'd be less impactful than having to use my imagination to feel how things must be like there.

Love how Nikola is passing herself as Tim and how Jon feels better thinking that he's with his friend, even if he is so confused by everything. Nikola doesn't have mind reading abilities, does she ?

Did Jon talk to her about him when he was being kidnapped ? Talked about the people close to him in some delirious moments of fear or pain ? About Sasha and how he can't remember her because of Nikola's ilk ?

"No, you’re not. Because nothing is anything. Leave."

I also love how everyone has a different way of dealing with the situation. Jon is trying to understand, and to do what he is supposed to do, even if he can't remember what it was, because that's just who he is. He always needs to understand. And he is trying to trust his friends, to trust Tim, because he said he would trust the people around him.

Meanwhile, Daisy is focusing on herself, not believing anything and not trying to understand, just pushing everything away until there is nothing but rage and violence. She can't think, she can't differenciate things, but she doesn't need to, she just needs to listen to herself and the blood guiding her. And she loses herself to it.

"I said get away!"

Tim is just as distrustful as Daisy, just as angry, but he doesn't have the blood, he is just bitter and angry and he cannot trust. He is scared and confused, and so he isolates himself because others only always hurt.

And finally, Basira is just as confused. Like Jon, she wants to understand things, but she is trying to rationalize everything because she is less emotional and attached than he is. She can think but can't understand, but she doesn't need to understand because there's no stakes for her here. She came to help, but can't remember that, so the best way is to listen to herself and not listen to anything else, because she is right and the world is wrong. All she needs to do is get away.

Of course, Jon never would've done that, because he needs to stay and understand and help.

"Don’t be obtuse, Jon. I’m here because you failed."

Oof. Man, Nikola is good at making people doubt themselves.

Anyway, after the "I'm your friend" angle stopped working, Nikola starts gaslighting Jon through Gertrude and Leitner, two people he respects very little but who's disappointment would sting like hell.

And Nikola just knows where to hit, it's impressive.

And Jon listens, Jon feels like everything she is saying is the truth, and he is so sorry about it, oh my fucking god. He just wants to make everything better, but he doesn't know how, and he isn't allowed to think for himself, forced to be overwhelmed by the situation, not understanding anything until he is reminded of what he is.

"I see you."

The Archivist.

"Shame you don’t know your own coffin. But you will."

Daisy, half feral, killed Hope, and for that she is stuck into the coffin. Wherever that leads her, I don't think she's dead, but she will suffer. For a long, long time.

And meanwhile, Basira managed to logic her way out of the Unknowing. Impressive, even if it makes me wonder what she was supposed to achieve here. Did Daisy become like that because Basira wasn't here for her ? Basira is her partner, the one grounding her, so it makes sense that if Daisy loses her, then she loses herself.

It is good that Basira managed to get away, but she didn't do anything to help the situation, did she ? I can't imagine she will feel good about herself once she realize that she's left everyone behind.

"I see the sad clown, bitter and hateful. I see him finding his way into the circus where nobody knew him. I see him torn apart, becoming the mask, remade by a cruel ringmaster. Sometimes a doll, sometimes a mannequin, always hiding in somebody else’s skin. Somebody else’s name."

That little speech was kind of cathartic, even if what it means for Jon is kind of gruesome. But I also am so tired of monsters condescending the hell out of him.

"Jon. I don’t know if you can hear me, but if you can… then I don’t forgive you. But thank you for this."

... I mean, really, Jon didn't do anything warranting the need for Tim's forgiveness, outside of maybe the stalking. But I don't think that's what was on Tim's mind when he said this. Sounds more like even in the end, he blames Jon for everything that happened, as if Jon himself wasn't just as much a victim.

But.

I get it.

No matter how much it hurts me to think about.

"I know."

And so, on a joke that doesn't stick its landing, the bitter existence of Timothy Stoker comes to an end in a blaze of glory, taking with him the Circus, avenging his brother.

Oh, and also Jon, who definitely got killed by the blast for this one.

... Except that it is, unfortunately for Jon, not the case.

EYE CONTACT :

Honnestly, I considered just writing "What the fuck" repeatedly for this entire episode because what the actual HELL-

But, I figure this'd be taking the easy way out.

"Statement of Elias Bouchard, regarding the dreams of Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, currently unresponsive. Details pulled directly from subject."

Ok, but seriously, WHAT is Elias ? How does he have the powers to take the statements from others ? Like, he is worshipping The Eye as well, obviously, but I thought this power over statements and such would be the Archivist's, you know ? It just sounds like those powers would be more useful to them rather than Elias who isn't an Archivist.

But he still has all the powers of one ! And more, even. Will Jon get on his level one day then ? But how did Elias manage to get all these powers when Jon got them all through BEING The Archivist ?

Urgh.

"The Archivist does not know where he is, and in many ways that is correct, for to say that he was anywhere would be an error. He has no conception of his body, lying on that gray hospital bed, perplexing the doctors. Heart unbeating, lungs unmoving, but mind and nerves alive and firing wildly: everything but brain-dead."

God, this is fucked up. This is so fucked up, what the heeeeell.

I will not quote the dream sequence, because just thinking about it makes me ill and sorry for Jon, he's just. Stuck there. Repeating over and over again the doom of everyone that has ever confided in him. And they see him too, and they judge him, and they think him responsible, which he IS because they wouldn't even have those dreams for every remaining nights of their life and I am SAD about it, ok ?

What happens when the victims are awake ? Does Jon just not dream ? Please tell me he isn't constantly being mentally tortured with the death and suffering of other people without being able to move a finger and forced to relish in their fear and constatntly watched. I thought giving statements was supposed to feel GOOD. Why are they like this ?

Fuck.

Anyway, the people he sees in his dreams. In order, we have :

Lionel Elliot, statement giver of "Anatomy Class"

Tessa Winters, statement giver of "Binary"

This would be the place of Daisy's statement from "Hard Shoulder", were she not stuck in the coffin. (Also, the fact that he hopes to see her, it hurts me, he just wants to be reassured that the psycho murder cop is ok, I can't.)

Karolina Gorka, statement giver of "Underground". I guess sje isn't dead as I first assumed, as there are no dreams from the statements of now dead people. Honnestly, I wonder what Jon thought when Sasha's statement disappeared. Did it not and just changed to show Not-Sasha instead ? And I wonder what happened to Helen's when she was trapped in the Soiral corridors but before becoming The Distortion.

After, it should be either Helen Richardon's statement from "The New Door", or Michael Shelley's/The Distortion's statement from "Another Twist". Jon is affraid to know what is behind the door, and I have to say, so am I. It is fitting that The Distortion is the thing we understand the least here, considering what it is, the confusion it creates. I wonder if it has anything to do with how The Distorion itself works. What would happen if the door were to be opened ?

Jordan Kennedy, statement giver of "Pest Control".

At first, I thought it was Jude Perry, as this was the only person we've heard of setting herself on fire, statement giver of "Twice As Bright". I had wondered what the avatars thinks of Jon giving them those nightmares and watching them. However, after actually paying attention, I found my answer and avatars can apparently avoid having those dreams ? Which is nice ? Does this mean that even if Mike Crew were alive, he'd be able to hide his dream ? But then, who's statement is it ? Obviously, the figure burning and filled with holes is Jane Prentiss, but from what statement is she from ? Not her own, obviously. I don't think she gave a statement while her worms were eating Jon and Tim, and written statements don't COUNT. So is it from Jordan's statement, despite him barely mentionning her compared to the landlord guy that was probably of The Lightless Flame ? I am just confused on this one. Also, where the fuck is Martin's statement ? He's not dead, obviously, and the only others that can avoifd the dreams are avatars apparently, right ?

Trevor Herbert and Julia Montauk, statement givers of "Nightfall". Since those dreams are here, then I guess they weren't avatars of the hunt, and simply influenced/markes by it, like Daisy is, which is not enough to avoid the Eye. Do the written statements really not count ? I'd assume not, otherwise Jon would've even worse things to see and watch, but then the line "He recognizes that look from the other hunter, whose dreams he has watched for so long." kind of implies the opposite. Also, why are THEIR nightmare not their cruel and painful death, but rather them hunting for Jon himself ? Is that their "bad end", rather than death ? Does Becoming count as worse than the end ?

Naomi Herne, statement giver of "Alone". Which, considering that this is "the oldest of the dreams", then that means that written statements definitely don't count ! Then I guess earlier was just an allusion to Daisy, he recognize their look from her, who's nightmare he did use to suffer.

Georgina Barker, statement giver of "Dead Woman Walking". Guess her lack of fear keeps her from actually feeling affected by the dream, even if she still has it ?

Ok, I am guessing that the statements from "Human Remains" didn't count, though it would've been pretty funny if Jon just found Elias in his nightmares. It would've been fitting.

Jurgen Leitner is dead, and so can't haunt Jon's dreams, and same thing for Gerry Keay and Mike Crew.

As for Melanie, Martin and Basira's, I just remembered that anyone affiliated to the Institute is free from those dreams ! Stupid memory, I legit totally forgot about that one, despite Basira and Daisy mentionning it before. Which explains why the ones from "Human Remains" can't count, because all the subjects were of the Institue, except for Not-Sasha.

I wonder how many of those does Elias have.

"The Ceaseless Watcher of all that is, and all that was; the voracious, infinite hunger the tears at his soul, invoking him to discover, to observe, to experience all, and everything, and forever."

At this point, you could've just titled the episode "The Ominous Episode" and it would've done the job, honnestly. Jesus fucking Christ. Why FOREVER anyway ? Surely it can get new puppets ! Leave Jon aloooooone, damn it !

(I mean, I am actually kind of freaking out about the relationship between an avatar and their Fear, and the "love" they have for one another, but that morbidity is also battling against my hard earned instincts of wanting Jon to be ALRIGHT AND HAPPY, DAMN IT !)

Anyway, heartbraking statement over, I am getting a little treat in hearing Elias get beat up for a bit, which is nice.

You will not be missed, you beautiful bastard.

I know that he's going to come back later, because he literally has dirt on every one of the people who will guard him, and that he'll probably have a very cosy stay in prison all things considered up until he decides he just don't feel like playing along anymore as he has done, but a nice little break from him.

Maybe being away will stop him from ruining Jon's life ?

That'd be nice.

"You didn’t tell her. Worried she might create too much of a scene? I understand. I just hope she… doesn’t hold it against you."

I uh ... Wouldn't hold my breath for that. Especially considering that objectively, killing Elias would be for the best, even if it doomed everyone at the institute to die a painful death.

Not that Melanie has been very considering of other factors that aren't immediate satisfaction at watching that bastard suffocate with his neck in her hands. Which is fair, but also, she really should do something about that. Tunnel vision is understandable, but do try to think of others outside yourself, please.

All of that being said ?

Good on Martin, honnestly. He did something, outsmarted the mastermind, kept his cool and managed to trick him. He's probably feeling absolutely awful about Jon's situation, and Tim's too, even with their strained relationship by the end, but I guess a win is a win.

Even if it probably feels hollow when compared to all the losses.

He did good. He should have some rest.

"To be honest with you, Martin, I didn’t expect to be taking over the place so soon, or in quite such a state of disarray. But I’ll do my best to keep the place afloat."

... Though it doesn't look like Peter will let that happen.

We just never can have nice things, can we ?

But hey, this time around there will be less murders ! And also ... Therapy ? Damn that's nice, definitely need that here. For literally everyone.

"I think we’re going to great things, Martin. Great. Things."

... You don't say.

Oh, it is going to be a fucking mess next season, huh ?

OVERALL :

Amazing season, definitely my favourite so far, it was SO good. I am HERE for the character driven story and the overarching plot, as you may have noticed through all of my ramblings.

I can't wait to see what's next to come !

You know, other than pain and misery and wretchedness and torment and grief and heartache and sorrow and-

Well. You get the idea, right ?

Is it too much to ask for Jon to be ok ? I just don't want him in pain, that's all. Maybe that now that Elias is in jail it could happen ?

... Yes, I am in denial, shush. I am emulating my inner Jon, ok ?

I feel like I have made the point all throughout the season, so I don't really have anything to clear up at the end, do I ? Or maybe I do but just can't think of one.

That being said, I do want to think of what kind of avatars the cast would be !

Honnestly, for Jon, I legitimately can't accept anything other than The Eye. The guys isn't a good enough liar or interested into manipulating others or anything of the sort to belong to The Web, he's just a curious little guy ! He wants to know stuff, ALL the stuff, all the time and frankly ? I relate man. That being said, considering just how many times he has been the victim of another fear already, and I am assuming that they feed more strongly on the people they've marked, I like to think that he is also feeding them a little, from time to time. And that they'd like him, maybe ? I mean, as much as they can "like" anything, I guess. A little snack !

Martin, I say, got big The Web vibes, in the pathetic sad little guy kind of way. This guy could probably stage an entire murder and let proofs that it was him all over the place and he'd still manage to cute his way out of it. That being said, I don't want him filled with spiders, thank you very much, so if not The Web, then The Lonely ! That guy just cannot be the priority of anyone ever, can he ? RIP.

Tim would absolutely despise having anything to do with The Stranger, obviously, and would probably have a really fun burning them to the ground. Honnestly, while I know he isn't exactly horny for the fire and the pain and stuff, I do think he'd make an interesting avatar of The Desolation. If not, then senseless rage aiming to destroy everything around him also suits, so at least a Slaughter one.

Sasha was really curious too, though I do feel like it was in a different way than Jon, and she was a researcher. I think she'd have made an adequate servant of The Eye ? But I just don't know enough about her to give more thought to it, and what we got is very basic. Honnestly, if I had only season 1 Tim or Martin I would've said they were good for The Eye too, even though in retrospect they very much weren't, just because of their job ! And Sasha wasn't really exactly here just for the knowledge. Headcanon time, I think The End would've worked ? She was pragmatic and (very much) not scared of death, considering her ... Everything, she seems to be the kind to look it dead in the eyes as it comes to take her.

Melanie, considering her whole anger and murderous urges of the season, I'd say an avatar of The Slaughter. Maybe even Desolation ? But, no, she's not in the business of destroying lives, and dance on the ashes, more blind rage and anger with no filter. If not The Slaughter, then maybe The Stranger ? She sometimes speaks as if she can't recognize herself anymore, as if she was a stranger in her own skin. I think it fits, somewhat ? Or that could also be The Flesh, now that I think about it.

Basira, honnestly, The Spiral. Just. Straight up. Just how crazy do you gotta be to make sense of what doesn't have any ? She wouldn't fall victim to it, as she is always so sure of herself and her decisions, a total rock in the midst of chaos, being the one to know and leave others to their doubts. Plus, I think she'd be able to make someone doubt themselves, to be honnest. So, either The Spiral or The Web. She's got a controlling streak, I feel.

Daisy, well, obviously it's The Hunt. She has already been affected by it the entire time we've known her, there's nothing to her character that isn't tailored for The Hunt. That being said, this is the boring answer, and considering how she is, I'd say she'd make good work serving The Lonely. No violence there, obviously, only that insidious knowledge that you are alone and always will be and that, maybe, it'd be better for you. For everyone else. Were she to suddenly gain awareness of who she is, I think she'd feel pretty lonely in general. i think she already does somewhat, considering just how much she and Basira clings to each other.

Georgie is marked by The End, of course, but that's not something she'd end up serving, is it ? Real talk here, I feel like she'd be pretty suited for The Vast. Of course, she's not affraid of heights or anything, since she can't feel fear at all, and actually that would definitely keep her from even being an avatar, but that's not the point. Just, that feeling of insignificance, of powerlessness, that no matter what you do, you can't ever matter, you can't ever change anything, I think that this is something she might be able to relate to, considering her past eperiences. And honnestly, I feel like she is the type of person who would make you confront that feeling heads on, whether you wanted it or not.

Elias is obviously serving The Eye, and I don't see him ever even consider any of the others, but if he had to, then The Spiral would fit, I think. You just know that this gaslighting king looooves drive others crazy for his own entertainment. That would also be the results I would give to Jonah Magnus, to be honnest.

Gertrude was, obviously, never really Beholding material considering her everything. However, she was a seasoned arsonist with no scrupules to making others suffer, so The Desolation it is ! Not even because of Agnes, she'd just have got it on her own. If not that, then The Hunt, maybe ?

The Admiral would, obviously, serve The End, I mean, it's a CAT. Of course it is planning your doom while hiding behind a harmless exterior. But it wouldn't chase you, nooooo, it'd just act cute and you'd just follow it towards your end. Fool.

Hm. Did I miss anyone important ? I feel like I missed some important people. Boo.

Oh well, if I did, just tell me, I'll add them ! It was fun to do !

The quote of the post will be :

"There is nowhere in this universe that it would not blot out the sky."

End Liveblogging.

#tma #the magnus archive #liveblogging #liveblog-tma

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callumsmitchells · 2 years

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Ohhhh what are your top 10 duff duffs?

be prepared to come inside my chaotic brain because some of these are ones that people won't remember, some that are iconic and some are special enough to have julia's themes

also this changes a fair bit

this is long I'm sorry I have many thoughts

"how come you don't know?" "know what?" "that den watts is still alive!" - dennis and sharon

no duff duff will ever beat this. you had the suspense for weeks that dennis knew something that the audience didn't. the way it was delivered mid argument is incredible. the anger on dennis' face and the shock and horror on sharon's. it is eastenders at its best and i will love this forever

2. christmas 2005 - snowball fight

this whole christmas period is iconic. kat and alfie getting back together in the snow !!!! sharon and dennis finding out they’re having a little baby which is all that dennis ever wanted and sharon thought she could never give to him !!!! its so nostalgic for me, this episode is my comfort christmas episode and the fact it ended with all the characters having this massive snowball fight was just perfect

3. "you can't tell me what to do you ain't my mother!" "yes i am!!!" - kat and Zoe

this sl is starting on classic ee and i'm so ready for the reveal. the fact that this story wasn't even meant to happen, the producer just really wanted jessie to be on the show so they created this character story...iconic. the fact that the storyline started at the start of them coming into the show and built over time and hints were dropped constantly until the reveal and even then people didn't understand the gravity of it...its perfect

4. bobby killed lucy

when i tell you we spoke about this sl EVERY DAY in school. everyone i knew had a different guess. i said bobby for about a month before the reveal and even i was shocked. the fact it made national press speaks for itself really, it truly is such an iconic duff duff

5. tiffany's death

this was harrowing, i can still hear bianca's scream. the fact that frank was the one who killed her was genius by the writers; the way it was filmed is so raw, i love it. that last shot of the light in her eyes...beautiful. also sidenote when bianca came back and she'd named tiff after her i remember crying lmao

6. sharongate

literally one of the best reveals of all time. one of the most iconic soap storylines, EVER. the fact that its a drunk confession that gets recorded, and the fact that grant has zero idea, the way that he smiles when sharon talks about him and then she starts talking about phil and his smile fades...impeccable

7. grant and courtney in the airport

full disclosure, i was obsessed with this as a child. "he said if you didn't want it i could spend it on shoes" gets quoted on the regular by myself because i love this duff duff so much. the fact it was a julia's theme as well and we didn't see grant for another 10 years after that so its v special to me

8. christian and syed julia's theme exit

the first gay julia's theme I believe? it was so special to me that they got that, and i loved that it was happy and they literally went off into the sunset together. it's one storyline that will always have a piece of my heart

9. nigel telling clare that her mum's dead

this is one i watched for the first time a couple of years ago and although i wasn't attached to any of the characters, i had a soft spot for nigel and this scene absolutely shattered me. the fact that its silent is perfect. you didn't need to hear what he said because clare's reaction spoke for itself

10. stuart and rainie's exit

yes it just happened tonight but if you'd told me that when stuart came into the show, i would be sobbing my heart out at him leaving, I would've laughed in your face. they are perfect for each other in their chaotic way and i love them for it

#kermitmitchell #ask

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f1-baby1999 · 1 year

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I said it yesterday, Seb’s quotes were going to be the inspiration for this Monday Motivation. Mainly because I strongly believe that if we keep talking about Seb as a human, he is never leaving us for real. Yes, I am in denial and it hasn’t sunk in yet. I wanted to make a whole Daniel/Mick/Seb/Nicky Monday Motivation… but now I think I’ll shine a little spotlight on these beautiful quotes.

Yesterday I saw a TikTok that said ‘only six more weeks till 2023’ and normally it would give me the biggest rush of anxiety. “SIX WEEKS? But I haven’t achieved a whole lot and there is so little time…” But this year I am taking a different approach. Instead of just looking at the big things (like working for a company I loved, getting back on track with making myself healthier and of course getting my bachelor diploma last week), I am looking at all the small things that in hindsight made a big difference for my happiness and I want to ask you to do the same. I would love to hear the small things that made your January till November happier! 🧡

Here’s a small list of mine: I got closer with my friends since high school, I met new people and became close with them, I started doing these Monday Motivations and we became closer, I went on small little trips that are now big memories, I put myself out there and started this dating journey, I went to more concerts in a year than I’ve ever done, I started to take more pictures (no… I am not starting a babette.jpg even though I do think I could run a good account), I’ve seen more F1 cars in a year than I’ve ever done and most importantly I chose myself countless of times.

So, am I gonna give you a piece of homework this week? Yeah, I am! Write that list! Sit yourself down and write/record/sketch/whatever else a list of moments. Little moments of happiness and positivity to combat the stress of this year almost coming to an end. And if you feel like sharing, I’m a nosy bitch so… send them my way 🥰

Have a great week! 🍀

Seb does always give out the best advice and those quotes aren't any different. I'm still in denial too about him leaving, I'm not looking forward to next year and not seeing him on the grid racing, same with Nicky, Daniel and Mick as well.

That's a really good approach to have and one that I do need to adopt as I always look at the things I haven't done instead of the things I have. I'll have to have a long think about the things I've done this year that have made me a little happier, I'll definitely send it your way if I do write down a list 😊

I hope you have a great week too ❤️

#not f1 #babssionate's monday motivation

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autisticlalna · 2 years

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bell noises. ~@betweenlands

BELL NOISES! viking <3

first impression:

his skin is REALLY COOL and then i started watching his pov and literally right after his opening narration i was like "oh my god i love him". "socially awkward ghost who wants to make friends............." <- actual quote from me at the time. also i was revising the lalna chart at the time so i took one look at "blonde with goggles" and went "ah. You." impression now: MICROWAVING HIM. oh my god i have not been this obnoxious about a mcyt in a WHILE he's!! he's so!!!! oh my godddd . there is something wrong with him and i support it wholeheartedly. i genuinely started calling him my meow meow in dms with solar and that's when i realized i can never go back. i am so normal. also my enthusiastic liveblogging is apparently what sold solar on dominion so >:) favorite moment: REALLY HARD TO PICK AAA uhhhh the watermelon argument is really good for a comedy moment. and then him revealing to legundo that he has his iou is SUCH a scene, like that really locked him in as a fav for me. the absolute menace idea for a story: i have been sitting on a half-unfinished fic about viking's pov of the start of dominion. like, while he's in permanent phantom mode and no one can see or hear him. i don't think i'll finish it at this point because it just isn't Sticking and i'm having more fun with visual art rn but i rotate that entire period of time a lot. i REALLY want to do something with that unpopular opinion: are there even any???? like i think all of my viking opinions are shared by most people lmao. i guess i wish there was some art of other dominion members (on tumblr at least) bc a lot of it is Just Viking but also i am very responsible for that myself lmao favorite relationship: i have no idea what's going on with him and grady but like, grady offered him a job at the tavern when viking first became perceivable but also there's the whole thing with viking's criminal record where grady's usually the one grabbing him and going hey. what the hell yk. see: the watermelon convo. and also viking "confessing" about the diamonds. i mean i guess my favourite dynamic is viking and legundo but that's a given and i think grady's neat favorite headcanon: PLURAL VIKING but you've covered that uhhh hold on i have just pulled a headcanon out of my hat. viking used to try and have conversations with the other dominion guys before he was tangible and even after he figured out they couldn't hear him he still kept doing it. like jamie and nuke would be having a conversation and viking would be hanging out near them and joining in even though neither of them could hear him. he still does this even after becoming perceivable so people'll be talking about whatever and then suddenly viking will chime in and scare everybody. also just generally "viking is not used to people being able to see and hear him" so he walks into people's houses or talks to himself a lot or messes with stuff and IMMEDIATELY gets caught

your honour. vikingpilot. thanks

#leo.txt #leos reply #betweenlands #dominion #bell noises!

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crmsndragonwngss · 2 months

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Can you share more of the Arch Enemy drama? Or did I miss a post you already did?

Oh no this happened a while back, long before I changed the direction of this blog. But sure, I’d be happy to! And I'm sorry this took so long! I wanted to get all my facts straight and cite all my sources, and then my brother called and I talked to him for like an hour lol

Anyway, here's a very lengthy rundown under the cut!

First, it’s fair to note that Jeff’s split with Arch Enemy in 2023 was amicable and he only had wonderful things to say about them. When the real drama went down with the photographer happened in 2018, he said absolutely nothing, which idk I think that speaks volumes. Jeff Loomis isn’t one to rock the boat and never really has been, so this wasn’t a surprising reaction at all. I’d love to hear his thoughts on it, but that will never happen. I'm not sure about whether the rest of the band weighed in on the controversy. I don't follow any of them and never have.

But anyway, basically what happened with Jeff was Michael Amott, founder, guitarist, and songwriter for Arch Enemy, essentially froze him out of the songwriting process. Jeff had expressed in 2018 that he had lots of ideas he really wanted to pitch to the band, but was always met with a firm pass because supposedly none of his ideas fit with the style Arch Enemy was known for. He went on to say that he had written several songs for Will to Power (2017), but they didn’t make it on the record, again because of style, but that he did get to do some solos that time around, which made him happy. He didn't get to write anything for Deceivers (2022) either.

Like imagine hiring Jeff Loomis, the lead guitarist and songwriter of Nevermore, one of the greatest bands that ever fucking existed, and then never giving him a chance to actually be Jeff Loomis. That’s not a coincidence. Alissa White-Gluz even said that she wanted to work with Jeff in her upcoming solo project, which has yet to happen because she's been too busy with Arch Enemy. She even noted in 2015, a year after Loomis joined the band, how good the band's chemistry is on stage, despite, y'know, the whole not allowing him to write anything part.

Now don’t get me wrong, Michael Amott is a genius and a legend in his own right, but holy shit, you call yourself the man’s friend and then let him stagnate in the band you asked him to join? The fuck? Also note that Christopher Amott and Nick Cordle were both credited as songwriters in albums they appeared on. Loomis is the only guitarist in their personnel history to only have one credit next to his name (not including a temporary touring guitarist). I guess we'll see how they credit Loomis's replacement, Joey Concepcion (who is Christopher Amott's... I guess you could say protégé, so do with that information what you will).

Also, as an aside, Michael Amott has a notoriously toxic outlook on the metal scene. He's stated that he doesn't listen to current metal, his reasoning being some better-than-you if you've heard it once you've heard it all bullshit. He's also said that he thinks metal should stay underground, stating that, "this is an alternative to the mainstream; it's an alternative to all that very premeditated, cynical approach to music. I mean, this is something that's from the heart and soul, and I want it to stay that way." Y'know, implying that only underground music can possibly be from the heart and soul, despite Arch Enemy themselves being one of the most mainstream death metal bands in the industry (which Blabbermouth hammered home in the lines below that particular quote). The dude has always read as an asshole to me, but that's just my opinion.

Now on to the meat and potatoes of why I strongly dislike Arch Enemy, which is what I have a feeling you're actually asking about. This is where the band outed itself as a vitriolic hit team, and the entire reason I will never listen to their music again. As a photographer myself who has had my work exploited because the thieves didn't value or respect my copyright, this hit real close to home for me, so I admit that I may have taken and continue to take this a little more personally than perhaps I should, but I digress.

The controversy centers around the tremendously talented J. Salmeron, a Dutch concert photographer and journalist for Metal Blast Magazine. He's also an attorney, and is no stranger to issuing take down notices. Essentially, one of his photos was reposted by Thunderball Clothing, who designed Alissa White-Gluz's stage outfit, in a misguided effort to use the image as advertisement. They reposted it from Alissa's instagram, who had reposted it from Metal Blast. Salmeron, and indeed many togs who do this sort of work, often allow artists to repost pictures of themselves without asking for permission first. It's... really not polite to do that, but it's usually not commercial in nature so most folks'll let it slide. People often wrongly assume that they are allowed to use photos of themselves for free and for whatever they want just because they're in it, and metal frontwomen are no exception. The photographer is the sole copyright owner of any image they take, full stop. If you wish to use a picture of yourself that a photographer took, you'll usually have to pay for it.

So Salmeron sent the clothing company a take down notice that you can read in full here, but this is the part that pissed everybody off:

In general, I charge a fee of at least €500 (five hundred Euro) to businesses that have posted my work in an unauthorized manner. In this case, however, I would be willing to forget about this problem and let you keep up the above post in exchange for a donation of €100 (one hundred Euro) to the Dutch Cancer Foundation. This is an organization that seeks to benefit cancer research as well as improve the quality of life of cancer patients. I can send you a link for the donation (which would be direct to the foundation, not through me) if you accept this method of payment.

Instead of responding to the take down notice, the designer of the clothing company decided to email Angela Gassow, former frontwoman and current manager of Arch Enemy, accusing him of threatening her. I really, really recommend reading Salmeron's article, because he gives a brief once over of what exactly is and is not legal regarding photography copyright, as well as highlighting the truly shitty and grossly exploitative behavior many musicians aim at photographers, who are fellow artists and who are just as essential to the music industry as actual musicians are. Also, keep in mind that the designer did apologize to Salmeron. She admitted to her mistake and attempted to rectify the situation, which Salmeron privately and later publicly accepted in an effort to shield her from a lot of really undeserved hate overzealous supporters lobbed her way. This hate was NOT a result of Salmeron's article, it was a result of Angela and Alissa straight up lying about everything.

Long story short, Salmeron ended up getting banned from all future Arch Enemy concerts for life, and so did his publication. Then Angela and Alissa both attempted to slander him all over the industry by copying in the label reps and booking agents they work with, whom Angela promised would alert promoters to the falsehoods she invented to demonize him in a blatant attempt to destroy his career. She ended up destroying the clothing designer's career instead, but she'd never admit to that. The best part? This isn't even the first time this has happened. Another Dutch concert photojournalist, Anouk Timmerman, was blacklisted from shooting Arch Enemy shows for life in 2009 after she asked Angela Gassow to take her photos off of her personal website, lest she be invoiced 75,000 euros per photo, for a total of eight photos.

So yeah, they're just really toxic, shitty people and I'm glad Jeff Loomis finally decided to ditch 'em lol

#she speaks #she speaks about the scene #thanks for the ask!#i really do love talking about stuff like this #and i got mad about this incident today for absolutely no reason so it was good to revisit it #cathartic actually #like literally it just popped into my head like hey you're gonna be mad about the arch enemy v photographer controversy today lmfao

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psychologyofhaylor · 7 months

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Truths and Misconceptions about Haylor Part 9 - Harry's songs

Jackknife and Garrett Lee are the same person. Pretty sure this is the day they wrote "Something Great." Gary even says it was a "great" song. There's no other song that I'm aware of that all three wrote together. Take Me Home album had just been released on November 9, 2012. "Something Great" was on the next album Midnight Memories that came out November 24, 2013. The album was recorded from December 2012 - September 2013. So, if this is the song they wrote on that day, he wrote it while dating Taylor.

Happily - This song is also on Midnight Memories released in 2013. Some of the lyrics are "when you hold his hand" "It's 4 a.m. and I know that you're with him. I wonder if he knows that I touched your skin." Taylor never dated anyone in 2013. If this is about Taylor, maybe Harry was referring to when Taylor was dating Conor in 2012? Or it could be about someone else. Or it could be a hypothetical song. Harry has never said or hinted who his songs are about.

Two Ghosts - It could be about Taylor. But it's only speculation. The song talks about how they've changed; they're not who they used to be. An article online explained the meaning of the song as "estrangement." It doesn't sound like he's longing to be with this person, or even wanting to be with them. He's "tipping a hat to the time together." He's not asking for another chance.

Here are some quotes from Harry on songwriting and why he kept "Two Ghosts’" for his debut album:

“‘Happily,” that was the first time I saw my name in the credits. I liked that. But I knew I’d only sing part of it. I knew if I wrote a really personal song, I wouldn’t sing it. The writing was like, “Well if I was going to write a song about myself, I’d probably never sing it.” It’s like story-telling sometimes if you’re like telling a really personal story then the voice changes every few lines, it doesn’t quite do the same thing. As the songs got more personal, I think I just became more aware that at some point there might be a moment where I would want to sing it myself.”

“I think some things are, just more like personal notes and they don’t feel like- I don’t know, sometimes if it’s a personal song, you don’t want anyone else to sing it."

"’Two Ghosts’ I wrote for the band, for Made in the AM. But the story was just a bit too personal. As I started opening up to write my more personal stuff, I just became aware of a piece of me going, I want to sing the whole thing."

If I Could Fly / Olivia - Harry also wrote these songs for the album Made in the AM, but he actually put them on the album. He didn't keep them for himself like he did "Two Ghosts." Haylors like to think these love songs are a deep longing for Taylor - baring his soul - loving her so much, missing her so much - that he would give up everything for her. But he didn't. He didn't regard these songs as personal to him.

Just a Little Bit of Your Hear / I Love You - These are songs Harry wrote for Ariana Grande and Alex & Sierra. Haylors of course think these songs are about Taylor. Harry said if it was a personal song, he wouldn't want anyone else to sing it. Let that sink in. He gave these songs away for other people to sing. If those songs are about Taylor, he didn't view the songs as personal enough to want to keep. It's not against the law to write a love song not based on your life.

One last thing: Taylor does everything with purpose (what she wears, what she says, what she does). She's always giving clues and Easter eggs. This is what Taylor does. Do Swifties realize that other artists aren't like this? Sometimes when artists' new albums are coming out, they put out surprise clues and games and stuff. But not everything they do has "special" meaning. It seldom does.

When Harry played "Two Ghosts" and "Falling" together on tour, it doesn't automatically mean it's about the same person. He combined the two songs because they fit together (slow songs / themes of estrangement). You can have the same emotions and feelings for different people. The songs were combined because of the tempo and theme, not because they're about the same person.

I mean, I'm not Harry, so I don't know for sure. Maybe they are about the same person. But I'm just trying to point out that just because they are combined doesn't automatically mean anything. Swifties are so used to Taylor doing everything with intent, but Harry and other artists don't do everything, or anything, with with that much intent.

A lot of harries and larries thought Harry was "signaling" his sexual identity because of colors he uses on albums or his clothes or nails or whatever. He said there was no intent or special "meaning" to things he does or things he wears other than he just likes it. He wears what he likes. He does things because he likes it. There's no special meaning with the dates he releases songs or albums. The release dates were most likely decided by the label. His album was ready for a mid December release date. Albums are usually released on Fridays. That Friday happened to be the 13th that year. He wasn't signaling that the album was about Taylor. If Harry intentionally picked that day (which is doubtful), then it would actually be a diss to Taylor, since most of the album is about Camille Rowe.

Here is a quote from Harry when Howard Stern asked if "Daylight" was about Taylor Swift. (18 May 2022) “You're reading too much into it, yeah. You know I'd love to tell you that you're spot on, but I can't. No, Sorry.”

Swifties have become great detectives because Taylor has trained them to be that way. (Here's a clue. Here's a clue. Here's a puzzle to solve, etc.) When it comes to Harry's songs, or things he does, people are reading too much into it. They are finding clues that weren't purposely meant to exist.

#haylor #haylor songs

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devotedbear · 10 months

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To quote a song that I can't remember the name of for the life of me, 'what only kills you makes you stronger' and I think about It alot because I shouldn't have had to go through that experience. But i lived. I managed to get back up, and just be there. Sure, it was hell. But I did it. And I don't know who in the hell needs to hear it, but you can too.

Back in 2021, I had a ' friend ' who was in general not the best person. She was absolutely horrible to me, and I took it. I took it because THAT is what I thought was right. I took it because our parents have a close bond. Being her friend was horrible, I'll give you that, But I now know that I can stand up for myself.

22-23 was a horrible year for me. I delt with what my friends called a stalker. He would look at me when I didn't know, he took my things, touched my stuff when I told him firmly no, hell, he'd try to grab me sometimes. It got to the point where I had asked to be moved because I didn't feel comfortable, AND HE WOULDNT GRASP THE CONCEPT. He did this later on, and he eventually took a picture of me when I told him not to. I was terrified. I asked the teacher to move me, and to please never let me be near him. I'm glad she listened for the most part. She sat him directly across from me, and I was nervous the entire time. He'd stare at me, and he got his entire tablegroup, filled entirely of boys, to look at me.im well aware it was directed at me, he spoke about me while telling them to do so. I was terrified. He once looked inside the classroom I was in, to stare directly at me. He tried talking to me constantly through three, torturous class periods. I told him no. I'm trying to do my work and HE WOULDNT STOP. it got to the point where I didn't feel safe. Who knows how many pictures he had of me. Who knows what he thought. I delt with that since November, and it only ended In either February or March. I had enough, and my mom threatened to contact the police and have harassment be on his permanent record. It only stopped because I brought it up into the administration. It taught me to speak the hell up for myself, because I didn't know how to do that.

I delt with constant bullying growing up. I've always been overweight, im going to try to work on it. But when I was a kid, and I looked up to people, I didn't know that it would come back to bite me later.

When I was five, I found out my granda died from a heart attack. When I was five, I had multiple surgerys because I inherited the crappy genes of the family. When I was seven, I moved into a new neighborhood. When I was seven, I met the aforementioned friend.

It doesn't matter what they say you can or cant do. You can fcking do it. I know damn well you can.

The only thing that can help you in life, is those that care for you, and those that want to be there for you.

So drop that crappy friend who keeps bailing on you. Drop that sexist dude who thinks he shouldn't help you around the house. Drop that chick who cheated on you with someone you loved dearly. If you dont have anyone in your corner, I'm there

#rant post #Help for people that need it.

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alwaysbethewest · 3 years

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“Like I said, I did a couple of audiobooks, it’s something that I particularly enjoy doing, is reading aloud, it helps me a lot. I, you know, and this is something to be, you know, really honest... I love writing. It’s not something I’ve been doing at all in these last few years but I used to, I guess when... when I felt so much more, uh, far away from the things that I wanted or thought that I wanted, writing was such a... a way of giving myself something that I wanted, um, I guess, in my heart, if that makes any sense. And anyway, I would read it aloud constantly to anyone that would listen. To kind of like, either keep going with the story or to look for affirmation or to see what people thought and everything. So I can, I just admire that you’ve done that with your books.” - Pedro Pascal (from David Duchovny in Conversation with Pedro Pascal on 05/27/21)

#‘a way of giving myself something that i wanted in my heart’#i... oof i stopped breathing a little #just wanted to record this quote for myself because i loved hearing him talk about this so much #while i patiently wait for him to publish something #pedro pascal #writing #also 😩🥺😔 the vulnerability on his face and in his voice #he was a little hesitant and then at the end of this quote #IMMEDIATELY changed the subject to something unrelated #bless #i love him a lot

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burnedbyshoto · 3 years

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the bodyguard

— Kirishima gets assigned to be the bodyguard to one of the worlds greatest idols: you. —

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pairing: bodyguard!kirishima eijirou x idol!reader

warnings: nsfw, 18+, brat taming, authority kink, spanking, blowjob, slapping, choking, brat taming, brat!reader, modern!au, no quirks, bodyguard!kirishima, idol!reader, PTSD portrayal, anxiety, war flashbacks, implied minor character death, drugging, alcohol consumption, size difference: kirishima is 2 feet taller than you, regardless of the reader’s original height. If you’re 6 ft congrats he’s 8 ft.

word count: 20,500

a/n: this is for the bnharem collab.... im so sorry, it’s 4:30 am and I have a plane to catch in 2 hours to get back to school. thank you jo for proofreading this for me because lol I am a mess. if the paragraph spacing did not work as I wish it does, please let me know so I can go in and edit in visible paragraph spacers!

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“I’ll be okay.”

The smell of dirt, sweat, and blood clung to the air.

The sun was setting, its blood-red shine illuminating against the destroyed earth, making the already bloodied soil even bloodier.

There was no telling if the land was quiet, if the reason why the world's silence was because the world just for this moment had gone silent, or if the earlier explosions were still ringing in his ears.

Kirishima sat wounded, his back pressed to the wall, his eyes wide, breathing erratic. He can’t move, can’t bother picking up the gun that lays abandoned by his knee as warm, sticky liquid spills onto his clothed knees and continues to soak the fabric of his jeans.

What had he done?

What in the fucking world had he done?!

BOOM!

Kirishima stills, his eyes stilling on the floor and looking at the clear moisture. He doesn’t need to touch his face to know it’s a combination of both sweat and tears.

His ears sing with white noise, the erratic beat of his heart, and his pained breathing.

“I’ll be okay,” the ghost taunts his mind.

But I’m not okay, Kirishima tries to speak, but knows with how his tongue is sitting like a thick dried sponge in his mouth, he won’t be able to speak. Pushing off the cold floor, flops onto his back, his arm flinging over his closed, shaken eyes until the ringing in his ear disappears into his alarm clock.

05:30.

Kirishima lays there for a bit more, his chest still heaving heavily with the weight of lead.

Inhale.

Hold.

Exhale.

Better?

No, not yet.

Kirishima runs through breathing exercises, his chest never stopping in it’s hiccuped, broken pants as his memories continue to haunt his mind. If only he was smarter, more observant, better.

“Time to get up, time to get up, time to get up,” his phone screams with his second alarm set at 06:45. The sound does what it’s intended, jolting Kirishima out of his own head. His labored breathing shallowing just enough for his lungs to finally grasp ahold of its required function.

Today was an important day for him; he needed to be on his tiptop game, according to what Toshinori said yesterday.

I’m okay, he convinced himself as he does every morning after having this dream. Kirishima flings his arm off his eyes, the morning purple sun shining softly through his blinds. I’m okay.

Date: 4/2 Time: 08:00 Location: UA Services

“And in other news, music industries princess Y/n has been attacked by yet another round of masked perpetrators. Fortunately for the music idol, she was left unhurt but was clearly rattled. This is but the fourth attack on Y/n since three weeks ago. It’s leaving many of us fans, spectators, and civilians wondering just what is being done to ensure her safety? Y/n is reported to not have a single bodyguard to her name, wanting to quote-on-quote ‘experience her fans to the fullest’, but with these recent attacks, we can’t help but hope something is done. At least until something is done about these attackers—”

Kirishima’s eyes tore away from the screen, his lips pressed into a deep frown as he took in the story. There was deep worry about it, not only because he hated the idea of people getting hurt, but because he was a big fan of yours.

Your debut album had come out during his training camp for the military. Not only was it an instant billboard smasher breaking every standing record, but his commanding officers were obsessed with the album and played it continuously until they graduated. Most of Kirishima’s comrades came to dislike your music solely because they remember throwing up, bleeding, and suffering while you sang about love and whatnot, but Kirishima? Kirishima fell in love.

It was a bright spot in his life, and he was grateful for your music, even if it has been ten years and six albums since the training camp.

“Yo, Kiri!” a voice cheered out happily as a hand clasped onto his shoulder from behind. Kirishima held the flinch that threatened to rip through his bones. Kirishima turned to find Kaminari grinning up at him, a cup of steaming tea in one hand as he grinned brightly at his coworker. “I heard you’re finally getting a good case today!”

Kirishima found himself relaxing at the sight of his rather spontaneous friend, a warm smile easing onto his face as he raised his fist for a greeting fist bump.

“We’ll see, I know Toshi’ said it was going to be important, but he also said escorting the paranoid old lady was important,” Kirishima sighed, his smile softening a bit.

Kaminari laughed, his arm slinging around Kirishima’s shoulders as he remembered that.

The little old lady was sure that the government was out to kill her and wanted protection until her son returned from his vacation. Needless to say, Kirishima had thoroughly enjoyed his time with her, even if she was a bit scary. It was a low-risk job, and he only was paranoid by her cane, which she used to thwack his back many times as she talked about how plums extended your life.

“God, I remember subbing in for you for one hour because of your family emergency, and she was so scary! She still haunts my nightmares!” Kaminari shudders, placing the cup of his tea to his lip and taking a long, slow drink. His eyes shift over to the TV, which is still broadcasting the story of your attack. “What a bunch of bastards,” he growls, eyebrows scrunching as the news reporter ends the segment. “Thinking they can go after such a beautiful and talented idol… I’ll kill them.”

Kirishima was more than well aware of Kaminari’s plentiful budding romances. The blond man fell in love with just about any smiling woman who happened to waltz in front of him. Still, unlike most times, he found himself agreeing with him.

“It sounds really serious. I hope that she really considers some type of security team,” Kirishima inputs too, taking the teacup in his fingers with a nod of thanks. “There’re too many weirdos in Japan and in the world, I wouldn’t want to hear the news the day something bad happens.”

Kaminari hums, his face nearing Kirishima’s as he takes a small sip of the apparently black tea. His eyes scrunch, and Kirishima smiles awkwardly as the blond studies him intently.

“W-Wha—”

“You like Y/n!” Kaminari exclaims (accuses, maybe?), his arm leaving Kirishima’s shoulders as he points a finger accusingly at him. “I thought I was the only one in this department who did!”

“Don’t be an idiot, Denki,” the familiar voice of Sero responds for Kirishima. “Everyone in the world is in love with Y/n; she was voted the favorite artist of the year in our company. Everyone but Bakugou voted for her if I remember correctly.”

Kirishima looks over at his black-haired friend who is rummaging through his locker, his mouth curved into an easy, teasing smile as he looks between the bashful Kaminari and sneering Bakugou, who also seemed to just walk in.

“Her shit is basic and overrated,” Bakugou defended himself. “Nothing special and bad for your brain and ears.”

“Your go-to music playlist is fifty percent death metal and alt. rock. I don’t think you have ground to say that it’s bad for your brain and ears,” Midoriya’s snicker sounded from behind Kirishima, and he looked around to see the freckled man grinning at the snarling ash blond.

“And how does your stalker ass know that, shitnerd?!”

“‘Cause I’m a stalker, duh.”

“Oh, Bakugou-kun, Midoriya-kun! You’re both here! Todoroki-kun is looking for you!”

“I’m just saying that Y/n’s dates to all the award shows and premieres have been blond. She’s into blonds, so she would totally be into me!”

“Deku, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to kill you myself.”

“You wouldn’t even be able to protect Y/n, bro. The only thing you performed well on in the application process was the tasing part. You can’t even tase people repetitively! She’d be dead in a second.”

“Can you believe my client dropped me because I couldn’t cook a five-star meal correctly? Hello, I can make 7-11 into a five-star course; it’s not my fault they’re not refined.”

“Kirishima-kun, are you okay?”

“I deadass got into a dance competition on the way to work. That’s why I’m late, why would I lie? Of course, I had to compete; my reputation was on the line!”

“Kirishima-kun?”

“Yo, he’s not looking too hot?”

“Kirishima?!”

“Can you hear us?!”

Silence.

Kirishima found himself opening his eyes — when had he closed them? For a moment, the air turned coppery, his body feeling weak, and he thought he felt something heavy on his lap. But that wasn’t right; he was standing up, he wasn’t sitting down. Most importantly, he was in Tokyo, Japan. He was alright. He was safe.

The sweat that clung to the back of his neck was cold, clammy, and intrusive. His chest felt tight again, his hands shaking so harshly the tea's warm, dark liquid was sloshing onto the floor.

There were seven pairs of eyes on him, each a different color, each swimming with concern and other emotions. Kirishima knew his ears weren’t working right now, his face unable to meet his brain's screaming demands to smile, and he watched as their mouths moved as they questioned his sanity.

He was okay.

“Kirishima?”

Kirishima looked up, his neck craning to the side to see a tall, skinny man standing at the doorway.

Toshinori Yagi was an esteemed bodyguard, one of the best in the industry, which was saying something considering that most bodyguards went unknown and unnamed. According to Google, Toshinori gained the nickname All Might after saving multiple political and celebrity lives when the government could not. It was long after his prime, and the man had retired but has since filled as the company’s head — thus why this job was near impossible to get.

Kirishima heaved a breath, realizing that he hadn’t taken a single breath when Toshinori’s bruised eyes narrowed in his concern.

“C-Coming,” Kirishima smiled, the blood rushing to his ears mostly ignorable now, but the scorching concerned gazes of his friends feel like cinders on his shoulder.

He straightens his tie, fingers curling when he feels the cold sweat penetrating through his clothes, but Kirishima doesn’t let it show. Smiling like he does, Kirishima pushed through his friends and followed Toshinori out the door.

They walked down towards the conference rooms, rooms that held their contractors, in complete silence.

“This is an important case,” Toshinori began, his voice gentle and poorly hiding his concern. “I chose you because you are a great asset to have, Kirishima. You are strong and smart, and most importantly, are personable.”

Kirishima looked at the man, his face contorting with his anxiety. He didn’t want to be treated like glass.

“Honestly, you being so personable is why I chose you for this assignment. Todoroki-shounen was a contender at first, but he’s not much of a talker; the same goes for Bakugou-shounen. Midoriya-shounen was probably the best choice, but there’s a new assignment that asked for three, so I gave up those three,” Toshinori explained the current assignments. It both delighted Kirishima to hear that he could keep up with arguably the three most qualified workers here as it did, at times, make him feel lesser.

“Oh.”

But he was obviously not the first choice still.

“The only reason why you weren’t the first choice is because of what I walked into just now,” Toshinori interrupts Kirishima’s thoughts and words. Kirishima finds his eyes tearing away from the smooth, polished wood floor to see Toshinori stopping in front of Conference Room A, his gaze intense on him. “To be frank, I wasn’t too sure if we should have hired you all that time ago. You are excellent on the field, your skills are phenomenal. Something to be proud of, truly, but you are clearly not completely healed from your time on the force.”

“Toshinori—”

“Kirishima-shonen, I’m not saying that there’s shame in your current struggles,” Toshinori once again interrupts, his hand a soothing warmth on Kirishima’s shoulder. “I’m still not healed from my past injuries, and as many people have undoubtedly told you, it’s okay to not be okay. But you barely passed the psych evaluation and only passed your field training because you scored so phenomenally on the other things your lack of a shooting score passed you.”

Kirishima felt unable to look away from the piercing blue eyes, and the lump in his throat never tasted as bitter, as sad.

He had barely passed the admittance test.

“I just need to know, are you ready to take on this assignment?” Toshinori asks in complete seriousness. “It’s a high stake, big-name client. We do not expect anything untoward to happen, but we never know in these cases. I think highly of you, Kirishima-shonen, and if you are ready to take this on, I’ll believe you, but likewise, if you’re not, I will gladly give this to someone else.”

Kirishima swallowed, his dry tongue passing through his equally dry lips.

Without question, he was not okay, not when he nearly broke down twice in a matter of hours, but it was just a bad day. He wasn’t as shaken as he was two months ago; he was going to his mandated therapy, talking to people who could assist him. Kirishima just didn’t want to be treated like glass anymore; he wasn’t glass; he was an unbreakable force.

Steeling over his nerves and ignoring how his stomach twisted and turned, Kirishima raised his gaze to Toshinori.

“I can do it.”

A smile.

“Good.”

If Kirishima was sweating because he was on a mental slip earlier, he was now sweating because he was beyond petrified and embarrassed. His hands raised up to brush against his red spikey hair, praying to God that it didn’t look dumb. His legs bounced at a speed that was bordering insanity, but he could only hear the sound of his racing heart as he stared at your frowning form from across the table.

It was you — the Y/n, the world's biggest music idol, an absolute legend in the making.

“This is our very own Kirishima Eijirou, age twenty-eight. He has been with U.A.Services for approximately six months now and is without a doubt one of our most capable and well-serviced men,” Toshinori began the introduction to the three people on the other side of the table. Kirishima could feel a blush rising up his neck and settling into his cheeks as what he presumed to be you, your manager, and your lawyer shuffling through paperwork that was very thorough on his background. “He was enlisted in the military before joining our ranks and was honorably discharged at the age of twenty-six as First Sergeant Kirishima Eijirou due to extreme injury. He excels in negotiating, scouting, and is, as you know, a skilled close combatant and was skilled in handguns—”

“I don’t think he’ll need firearms,” you interrupt, a frown on your face in contrast to the bright smile Kirishima was so used to seeing on your face. He tensed in worry.

“Y/l/n!” your manager, Sato Kimiko, scolded.

“What? It’s true! We’ll be around my fans for the majority, if not all the time! How is that right? For him to have a firearm around defenseless, and may I add, harmless individuals?!” you argued, your eyebrows scrunching in your fury.

Kirishima felt frozen in his chair, his eyes seeking Toshinori for guidance, but found himself unable to look away from you. He knew nearly everything about you, he could admit with a proud grin that he was a super mega fan of you, and he might have, at one point, looked your height up to imagine how you would appear beside him. Kirishima had known this entire time that you were two feet shorter than him, but it hadn’t hit what that meant until he was shaking your hand when he first entered.

You were tiny.

His dick and mind really liked that, and seeing your own passion spilling out for your fans was making him fall deeper into this hole he had for you.

“You don’t have a say anymore? Do you understand? You were nearly assaulted yesterday, and we are all done waiting around for something serious to happen!” Kimiko yelled, her face contorted into a look of both frustration and fear. “Either you take this, or we all leave you. I won’t have you murdered in front of me! You’re twenty-six now, stop acting like a damn brat and grow the hell up!”

The words scorched the table, blistering heat filling the conference room as you met Kimiko’s glare.

Kirishima watched with a dropped jaw as your nostrils flared, your lips pursing, and your eyebrows furrowing with unspoken distaste and anger.

“Six months tops.”

“Uh, yes,” Toshinori interjected. “Our contracts only last up to six months for new clients, but if you find yourself wanting to extend your contract after those six months, we are very much open to negotiations.”

You nodded your head, your eyes falling back onto the booklet in your hands that exposed all the information available on Kirishima. From his likes, dislikes, to his allergies and the reason why he was discharged. Each in disturbingly deep detail to make sure all things were up on the table.

“So, you can’t shoot your gun, Kirishima-san?” you speak, your voice tight, a pleased, almost taunting tone.

Kirishima stills, embarrassment bubbling in his chest as you drop the booklet onto the table, exposing his military history to him and you.

“...no,” Kirishima answers truthfully.

The lawyer shifts from the other side of you, his eyebrows scrunching as he too comes across that piece of information.

“He won’t use firearms?” the lawyer scoffs, his semi-permanent frown deepening. “How will we know that he will keep Y/n completely safe from any sort of danger that may come her way? We’ll be paying six months for a glorified security guard? We want a bodyguard.”

“And we clearly have one,” you snap back, your eyes narrowing. “If my bodyguard isn’t Kirishima-san, I’m not getting one. I mean, isn’t that what you said earlier?”

“When we were assuming that the person Toshinori was assigning to your case was a well-rounded bodyguard. Not one that was still clearly haunted by his past.”

Fuck, that one hurt.

You scowled, your head tilting as you bared your teeth slightly, “And what? He managed to get into the best agency in all of Japan in spite of that. Sounds like he’s competent. I already told you I won’t take on a team, just one individual. I trust in Toshinori-san’s guidance and his choice in picking Kirishima-san. If you disagree, that’s too bad for you.”

“Y/n! Please stop this! You’re being ridiculous!” Kimiko huffed, slamming her own booklet down, her eyes drowning with her exhaustion. “I’m so sorry, Toshinori-san, Kirishima-san.”

“H-Hey, it’s okay!” Kirishima immediately imputed, his hands raising in a sign of retreat. “I know that Y/n has always enjoyed her independence as a solo star, and how me being involved now is imposing, especially after multiple attacks.”

Kirishima felt that his smile was a bit strained, a bit too forced, especially as your eyes hawked onto him. He felt like you were examining him, like a lab rat going through its initial trial and not knowing just what was to be expected.

“Six months?” you spoke, your gaze not leaving Kirishima’s own.

“Six months,” Kirishima agreed.

You hum, your head nodding. “Fine, six months tops unless the Lieutenant Colonel can apprehend these assholes faster.”

It had been ages since Kirishima had been called by his title, and for some reason, he found himself blushing. His mouth, for the first time this entire meeting, curled into a wolfish grin.

“You got it.”

The lawyer groaned, entirely aggravated and insulted. He stood up, “You’re asking to be murdered, Y/n. Don’t come haunting me when you end up dead and mutilated. You deserve all the shit you’re getting.”

Kirishima watched with his lips parted in a bewildered expression as the lawyer walked out of the room with a loud slam of the door.

You were unfazed, and Kimiko groaned, exhausted and embarrassed as she mumbled a weak, sullen, “I am so, so sorry, Toshinori-kun.”

“Ah, Kimiko-chan, it’s okay!” Toshinori shook his head and smiled knowingly. It wasn’t as if the long time famous bodyguard hadn’t seen his fair share of childish fights between clients. “Thank you for coming as always, and we’ll do our best to make sure that Y/n is in the best of hands.”

“Thank you… and so, the rest of the contract?”

“Ah, yes, let’s continue.”

So, the contract was discussed to full detail.

For six months, Kirishima would be attached to your side. He must always remain at most three meters away from you when there is no one around, and during fan interactions no more than one meter. He had a full say about your safety. If things got rough, you were to follow his every command. Your agency would pay for his room and lodging. He was to wear black pants and a black long-sleeved cotton tee. He would be working with every venue, every hotel, every conventions security team. He would lead them and never leave your side. He was to be awake an hour before you, rest when you were asleep so long as it was safe to do so. He was your guardian angel of sorts, and you would do nothing but adhere to him.

Most importantly, according to Kimiko, there was one thing they were hoping for: Kirishima's help and discretion. For the next six months, they would be relying on Kirishima’s support to figure out who the group behind the assault was and who the mastermind was behind it all is.

Or so the contract said.

“Y/n!” Kirishima called when the papers were signed, and the day he was set to start was printed. He will begin tomorrow. “Wait!”

You stopped at the door, Kimiko and Toshinori chatting merrily between them as they exited the conference room, Toshinori’s booming voice asking if it was true that Kimiko was attending to a near forty clients to which she bashfully admitted to. You were dressed in a creme knit long-sleeved shirt, faded ripped jeans, and a pair of nude heels. The heels were big, undoubtedly giving you inches, but you still barely got to his shoulder.

“I-I’m looking forward to looking — I mean working with you!”

You looked at him closely, your eyes dragging to the top of his toes to the tallest spike in his hair before your lips pulled into a contemplative pout. You looked back to his eyes, and you steeled over, your head tilting to the side.

“I mean no offense, Sergeant, I thank you for doing your job, but I have no intention of looking forward to working with you. I don’t want you here, so do your best to ignore the contract and realize that I am the most important person, so you will follow my demands.”

Kirishima can do nothing but stare as you turn on your heel and leave.

Well, so much for a good case.

Date: 5/2 Time: 14:00 Location: Tokyo Music Stadium

If you would have told Kirishima Eijirou that he had been working for the grand, the perfect, the fantastic music idol Y/n for a month now, two months ago, he would have laughed so hard he’d cry. Not only would he have not believed it, but he would only think of a million and two scenarios where he would go the entire day flirting.

Now a month into knowing you, of being your bodyguard on a contract for six months, Kirishima could say that of that entire thought, the only thing he had been right about was that he was, in fact, crying. Not only has he never managed to speak an entire conversation with you despite being attached to your hip seven days a week, but despite your much shorter stature, you had managed to get away from him.

You always managed to sneak away from him.

Kirishima could admit that the no more than five meters rule had been wholly and utterly demolished.

And now, Kirishima was crying, not out of joy, but of pure manly fear as he raced through the backstages of the stadium, desperate to find your short-ass anywhere.

“Go, Kirishima!” someone yelled as Kirishima whizzed past him, “Find Y/n!”

“T-Thank you!” Kirishima screamed as he continued onward, the yellow-lit concrete hallway seemingly haunting the further he went into it. The earpiece in his left ear shrilled, the telling sign he was getting a call. Putting a finger to the circle in his ear, he answered the car. “Hello?!”

“Ah, Kirishima-san!” Kimiko’s voice chirped on the other side of the line. “Wonderful to hear your voice again! I’m calling to let you know that the tour bus is parked outside of the venue now. The concert was a smashing success, and she’s come out unharmed for the past month! To make matters even better, since your arrival, there have been no more assault attempts! Oh, um, sorry, where are you guys?”

“We’re just, um!” Kirishima tried not to pant into the microphone; he was still racing ahead, his head peeking into every door and room he passed. “Y/n needed to use the restroom?!”

“Oh, wonderful. Okay! Let me know when you two are on your way over!”

“Ya, okay, bye!”

“By—”

Kirishima hung up as he crashed through the doors at the end of the hallway.

It was night out right now, the full moon reflecting down on the dirty concrete with the same intensity as the streetlamps overhead. And in the middle of a crowd of around twenty people was the person Kirishima was trying to find: you.

You were still dressed in the final costume change of your concert. Even from a distance, Kirishima could see the glitter and highlight on the tip of your nose and the curve of your cheekbones. The crowd around you was clearly not hostile. Each face was bright with broad smiles and sparkling with fresh tears, each voice high and pitchy as if they were talking with some goddess and not you.

There was a slight longing in Kirishima’s chest at the sight of you interacting with your fans, your smile was so beautiful, and he wished just for a moment that he was the one that it was directed towards. If he had met you as a fan, and only a fan, he wonders if you would look at him as you did the others. Would he see the pure joy in the depths in your eyes, the love, wonder, and pride as they asked you questions and answered your own?

He wanted to be just a fan.

“Y/n, the tour bus is here,” Kirishima finally found his voice, the tenor of his voice spreading through the narrow alleyway. “Say your goodbyes.”

He had to ignore the way you stiffened immediately, the unsolicited joy in your face breaking and becoming bleak as you met his gaze. Kirishima absolutely did not feel pressure behind his eyes when you rolled your eyes and began to say your goodbyes; he did not!

The group of fans waved goodbye as you walked backward toward Kirishima; you didn’t stop waving and continuing your parting conversations with the group until the metal doors of the stadium doors closed behind the two of you. Kirishima let out a sigh, his eyes closing for a brief moment before looking down at you. You were expressionless, eyes cold as you looked dead ahead.

“You’re not supposed to run away like that.”

“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t tell me what to do, Sergeant.”

“You know I can’t do that it’s not—”

“Part of your contract. Yeah, I know, but that’s your contract, not mine.”

“Oh, okay. Um, Kimiko? ...yeah, we’re heading out now. Five minutes, till.”

And then there’s only silence.

Neither Kirishima nor you bother talking the entire walk towards the tour bus, and you ignore Kimiko’s call that your lawyer would be meeting briefly before tomorrow's fan signing event. You walk into the bus and go directly to the beds, throwing yourself into the terribly padded bunk and passing out without so much as a sound.

Kirishima sinks into his own bed, it’s too small for him, but there’s nothing he can do about it. Sleep overcomes him easily these days; he’s always way too exhausted in chasing you down like some spoiled toddler you’re behaving like to dream. But that’s okay, he thinks as the comfort of sleep begins to dig its skeleton fingers into his side, at least the exhaustion stops the night terrors.

Date: 5/3 Time: 10:00 Location: Tokyo Music Tower

Now, Kirishima knew that it was a common belief and a nearly proven theory that when you met your idols, you should never ever have your expectations high on who they are as a person. Celebrities were out of touch, cruel, rude, nearly jaded. They weren’t exactly the common folk. With people willing to forget things like them being human beings themselves or the common thread of celebrities being too rich to care, any type of famous person was cold, rude, and ruthless.

He knew that.

He also knew that you weren’t like the nearly proven theory.

You were kind, sweet, a practical angel to anyone who dared to approach you. You were the exception to the rule, an outlier to them all. You spoke politely to all your fans, domestic and foreign, and you treated each fan like the most special person in the world.

You were a good person.

But Kirishima knew, just as you reacted to any cruel person you encountered, you had an edge. Your words were as vicious as your name was known. He genuinely enjoyed watching you put assholes into place, but he sulked, knowing he was always at the receiving end of the sharp, bitter tongue of yours.

For a month and a day now, he had been the number target of your bitter words and scorching hate, but he admitted that he enjoyed it when it wasn’t directed at him, if but a little bit.

“I’m not renegotiating my contract!” you groan, your palms slamming into the depths of your eyes. “I already told you that I don’t need all that money!”

“And I’m telling you that you need to increase the wages that you pay the rest of your team instead of all those charities or else people will begin dropping you!” the lawyer countered with similar fire, his scowl angry enough that Kirishima felt like he had to tear his gaze away from this horrible battle. “You won’t be the best of the best forever, y/n, get over your stupid savior act and look over the changes!”

Kirishima looked over at you, his eyebrows pinching as he watched you fold your arms, your cheeks pushed out to a puff as you looked at the stack of papers with the title page fully covered with the word Contract of Y/n and Co. on it. Well, it seemed that the rumor of you spending your paycheck on things that weren’t you was right, how entirely manly.

“Oh fuck off,” you growl, pushing out of the chair and storming away.

Kirishima glanced over at Kimiko, who was looking pale and exhausted, undoubtedly exhausted from the past thirty-minute battle between the lawyer and the idol that neither made a single step forward nor a step back. How you had the energy to fight so passionately was beyond him. Kimiko nodded minimally, her lips parting in a sigh as Kirishima stood up and followed after her.

“The only way that brat is going to listen is by force,” the lawyer sneered, his voice fading into the room that Kirishima exited. “If that’s how she wants to play, so be it.”

Fortunately for Kirishima, he catches up to you. There are tears of fury dripping down your cheeks, and he feels unable to speak as he discovers a new layer to you.

...how interesting.

“It’s my money,” you speak, but Kirishima is unsure if those words are meant for him or for the void, the earth that you would much rather converse with than him. “I already pay them all a much greater paycheck than they should be getting considering their client pool. Why do I have to bend to their stupid will when I’m the one making the money.”

Kirishima blinks, wondering just what people might want to raise with their contracts. But, he knew you were right. By her account, Kimiko had a client list of many successful individuals, and he may not know anything about the lawyer, but if he worked with Y/n, his name must be good. Guess they weren’t like you.

“People are selfish assholes,” was the only thing that Kirishima could think of, and was something he spoke before he could stop himself.

But you stop in your storm, the anger that clouded you somewhat dissipating, clearing just enough for you to turn to him, your sharp, beautiful eyes for the first time filled with rage that was not pointed at him, and an emotion that made him think of… amusement?

“Yeah,” you agree, a half-smile cracking onto your face, and Kirishima feels his soul begin leaving his very body. “People are selfish assholes, huh?”

“Very much.”

There’s a calm, a snorted chuckle, and Kirishima finds himself stumbling further into the abyss of his feelings for you.

The next ten hours seem to pass in a blur, Kirishima feeling like he was on Cloud Nine as he stood behind you, three meters as he watched fan after fan approach you. Signatures were made, pictures were taken, and Kirishima found that he never once had to approach.

Maybe, he thinks, just perhaps, the two of you can overcome this.

Ten minutes after the official signing is done, Kirishima can’t find you, and he curses loudly into the echoing floor.

So much for change.

Date: 5/17 Time: 23:00 Location: The Parking Lot - Mt. Lady Studios

Kirishima was, for the lack of better words, completely fucking done with you.

Don’t get it wrong, he still was a complete and massive fan of yours. He would never once betray his loyalty to you and your musical career, but he was slowly starting to realize just why the lawyer was set to dying of a heart attack any time soon. Despite your early entrance to stardom and the stuff of legends, you had kept your fiery, stubborn individualism.

Kirishima thought it was absolutely hot and sexy at times, especially the times where you strut around in revealing clothes because ‘this is your body,’ or the lingerie campaign you completed two days ago as part of some fundraising event. There were significant perks to your strong handle and claim to keeping your indestructible personality, but it came back to rub them all back in the worst of ways when once again, you escaped from Kirishima’s side.

To be fair, most of the time, Kirishima was a very level headed individual; he was near impossible to rile up despite popular initial belief. I mean, he was good friends with Bakugou Katsuki, who riled up just about anyone he talked to! He needed to have steel calm emotions, or at the very least portray that he does. But even the unbreakable after tireless attempts can, at times, be broken.

It had been a hard morning.

Kirishima had woken up in a panic, the sweat of his night terror soaking through the sheets of his bed, and his head felt like lead. They had been in the tour bus for the entire day because you were going from the tip of Japan to the bottom of it, thus meaning that you couldn’t run away from him, concluding that when he went to bed that night, he was merely tired, not exhausted.

“K...Kiri...shima?” the voice whispered in his ears when he bolted from his bed and tumbled to the ground, his chest heaving in his panic as he cried.

He only slept for four hours that night, the ghost of his comrade haunting him too much for him to ever drift back to sleep. The only thing he was grateful for when he stumbled down to the hotel lobby for breakfast was that he had an attack while in his own room and not in a tour bus with ten others.

But the lack of sleep and the twisting of his guts from his still unburied memories meant that his exhaustion was dialed up larger than he thought was capable. Today was an interview day plus a miniconcert at said interview.

That meant that for an hour before your interview and two hours afterward, Kirishima lost you and had to hunt you down. You weren’t making it easy on him and had started moving with the crowd you gathered to evade him.

But today, Kirishima was exhausted.

Today, Kirishima wanted to sleep.

Today… Kirishima broke.

“Let’s go,” Kirishima spoke in a low, commanding voice. His eyes were hooded as he looked down at you, the crowd of fans parting like the red sea as he stands behind you, larger than life, imposing.

You ignore him.

“We’re leaving, now.”

“Aw, did you make that just for me?! This beading is gorgeous!”

To be fair, Kirishima isn’t really sure if he’s crying right now or if steam is protruding from his ears like some stupid cartoon. The only thing he knows is that it's been a bit longer than a month, and his client is the most perfect person in the world except to him and some lawyer. All he knows is that he has been continuously mocked, shamed, and disrespected by his client, and at this moment, with his mind and body aching with the memories of the morning, he can no longer stop the tsunami of emotions and thoughts that shove out of him.

He grabs your wrist and begins pulling you away.

“We’re leaving now, sorry to disrupt your time. Come see Y/n another day.”

Kirishima isn’t even aware of your screams, the banging of your small fist against his back as his hand encompasses your bicep easily. He walks and walks and walks until he stops, his mind slightly put back into place.

“—FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?! LET GO OF ME, SERGEANT!”

Oh, right.

He lets go of you immediately and nearly snorts at how you stumble into his back. So small, so delicate, and so completely weak.

“You want to know my problem, y/l/n?” he asks, voice eerily calm, much calmer than he actually is. “My fucking problem is that I signed onto this case with a single rule: keep you in sight and protect you. It’s simple, almost too easy, isn’t it? But easy and simple is everything that this assignment is!”

Your face contorted into a flash of anger and embarrassment, your nose scrunching as you found your footing, “And I told you that I don’t give a crap about that contract! I didn’t want it in the first place, but no one listens to me!”

Kirishima snorts, his body shifting so that he can look at you properly; your face is seething, your teeth bared and eyes wild, but Kirishima has faced worse.

“It’s not in my contract to listen to you, unfortunately,” Kirishima points out, his eyes narrowing. “I would have a better time listening to you, trying to find an agreement that worked if you used that brain of yours and figured out a way to compromise with me.”

“Compromises aren’t—”

“You think I wouldn’t?” Kirishima almost whines, his voice tight with emotions, fingers fisting in his hair, “You really fucking think that after a month and how many days of me spending stupid hours trying to find your ass, most of the time never knowing if you’re dead or not, I wouldn’t want a better solution?!”

“Like hell they’ll kill me! And if they do, I don’t fucking care!” you stubbornly insist, finger buried against the swell of your chest.

“Oh my god,” Kirishima can’t stop the bitter laugh from escaping, “you’re ridiculous.”

“I’m ridiculous?! I’m not the ridiculous one here!” you cry, your eyes bursting with unshed, bitter tears. “So what that I run away from you? Can you imagine living the past ten years of your life trying to be something that the media wants you to be? No! You can’t, Sergeant! Those times where I’m running away isn’t to be some dick, but to give me time to be me!”

“You’re a goddamn idiot!” Kirishima barks, his anger curdling in his chest like a raging fire. “If you had looked at my damn file correctly, instead of focusing on the stupid shit like me not being able to fire my gun correctly, you would be more than aware of the fact that you are one of my favorite artists!”

“Wh-”

“I am one of the best in my company! I am easy to get along with, personal, manageable, flexible even, but from the very first moment you laid eyes on me, you’ve hated me! You talk down on me, you shit on me, my job, the reason I’m here! Listen, I would fucking love to be anywhere but here right now. I have literally never hated my job before, but you just made that a reality. But the worst part of this all is the fact that you seem to think I would have kept you away, prohibited you from doing things that I already know you love! You stand there and tell me that I would try to force you to do shit you don’t want when I have merely been asking for you to take me there with you! I don’t care if I have to stand away and watch, but I want to be there! I’m supposed to be protecting you, but you’re being nothing more than a stubborn brat who refuses to see the efforts I’m trying to make, and frankly, I’m done.”

Kirishima’s chest is burning with the lack of oxygen, his eyes narrowed and filled with raging fire as he stares down at you, his neck craned so that he could be closer, more daunting, intimidating.

“Fuck o-off,” you snap suddenly, a lone tear, your voice tight and shoulders tense as you storm off.

“So predictable,” Kirishima calls after you, but it’s not filled with the previous anger he had but the sinking misery and regret.

And for a moment, it’s quiet.

Until a single name is screamed.

“SERGEANT!”

And then the all too familiar sound of a fist colliding with skin.

The anger in Kirishima’s blood evaporates immediately, and horror sinks in as he turns towards where you had stormed off. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

The parking lot is filled with an ugly yellow light that seems to set the stage for what was to come down. His footsteps crashing down against the black pavement were mute in his ears, and his eyes were focused on your limp body slung over somebody's shoulder. There was one person behind him, the other one already hopping into a van; Kirishima was the devil on their heels.

“Come on! Let’s go!” the one in the van screamed, his voice full of gruff apprehension and fear.

The van turns on.

Kirishima grunts, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he sidesteps the man who was lingering behind the one carrying you and quickly slams his shoulder into the man's sternum, knocking him out the moment he collapses onto the ground.

He lets out a roar of such, his eyes glowing with anger and a single mind track to take down the person who held you, ready to throw your unconscious body into the back of the van.

Kirishima doesn’t even know when he manages to get to the man's side, one hand on his shoulder, the other on you, and with the strength and anger of a million fighting warriors, he ripped you from his hold and sent him stumbling into the trunk. Your shallow breathing brushes against his neck, and Kirishima is hyper-aware of the cursing men who chose to abandon their unconscious comrade on the floor.

With his arms filled by your unconscious body, Kirishima can only watch the van scurry out of the lot, the license plate immediately burning into his mind.

T082-23

When the man on the floor finally wakes up, he’s in police custody, and you’re just waking up. There's a bruise on your cheek, and you begin crying immediately.

Kirishima watches from the distance, his heart aching and guilt climbing up his throat as he watches Kimiko hold you close, her arms warm and tight.

Well, shit.

So much for the month of no attacks.

Kirishima sits in a waiting room, his head relaxed against the wall as he waits for your discharge from the hospital. They suspect a concussion, and they’re running some tests right now. The police are there too, trying to get information from you on the failed kidnapping attempt as well as beginning the initial trials of interrogation of the abandoned kidnapper with a broken sternum, ruptured spleen, and three cracked ribs.

He was not surprised when the police officers came to talk to him, and he gave them the license plate.

But they also gave him an essential piece of information.

(“Well, when we asked for a motive, it seemed that it wasn’t his idea,” the detective admitted, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “His boss said that, and I quote, Y/n will end up dead and mutilated as is deserved. She deserves all the shit she has coming her way, end quote. Any ideas of who it could be”

Kirishima rubbed a hand across his face, the words striking a bit too familiarly to him, but from where. He shook his head, his eyes focusing on his bouncing knee.

“Thank you,” Kirishima said, his tone pointed in a clear indicator that this conversation was now over. The detective nodded, his frown slight as he left. The moment he was gone, Kirishima pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Kimiko? Yeah, I think we might have our first suspect.”)

For now, he was waiting for you.

An hour passed before you shuffled into the waiting room. There was a bandage on your swollen cheek, but besides the obvious attack, your eyes looked strong, and it seemed like there was no concussion.

“I should be fine,” you speak first, your jaw tensing as if it physically pained you to speak (whether it was because you hated talking to him or because of the injury, Kirishima had no idea). “I will be fine; I just need some sleep.”

Kirishima nodded, his body completely exhausted, and his mind filled with nothing but regrets on how he handled his anger earlier. He needed to apologize. He wasn’t entirely wrong, but he had definitely crossed a few too many lines.

“Should we go?”

You chewed on your lip, your eyes looking down at the white tiled floors of the hospital — so bleak, so anxiety driving.

“I actually wanted to talk before we left.”

Oh?

“Of what, if I may ask?”

Your eyes raise back up before looking away again, “the contract.”

Kirishima finds himself nodding, his hand gesturing towards the empty seat in front of him.

“Sure.”

And with a heaving sigh that sounds like you were on the verge of tears, you sit before him.

The contract was then discussed.

It was decided that you could continue to interact with fans as you wish, so long as you took Kirishima with you. He didn’t care about the long hours, the manic fans, or the impending doom of a group of people who meant business. He needed to be there.

Everything else stayed the same, but Kirishima looked at you one last time that night in the hospital, his body leaning towards you as he did his best to keep his face void of emotion and any lingering teasing.

“I’ll only accept this new negotiation on one term.”

“W-What?!” you pause, thinking. “Fine, say it.”

“From here on out, I think we should be friends, yeah? I’m on your side, after all, it’s a bit weird if we stay just acquaintances.”

The tension and horror leave your body, and Kirishima, for the first time ever, bears witness to the most relaxed, meaningful smile he has ever seen you give. It had been one hell of a shitty night, but at that very moment when the seventh turned into the eighth, Kirishima felt a new warmth flood through his chest, his heart racing at the sight of your glorious smile.

“Of course, Kirishima.”

“Oh, and y/n?”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry about all that I said. It was unmanly of me and out of line.”

“It’s okay. To be fair, I was a bit of a self-absorbed brat, too.”

The next day, a picture of Kirishima holding you bridal style is trending.

Date: 6/12 Time: 19:00 Location: Hime Onsen

An Interview with Y/n | Vogue Japan 4.5 million views • Premiered 2 hours ago 874k [liked this] 12.3k [disliked this] Timestamp: 05:32 / 10:33

[Interviewer]: Now, Y/n, we must congratulate you on your latest achievement! Your latest self-titled album, ‘Y/N,’ has been nominated for a record high of twelve awards for the upcoming Japan Record Awards, which will be coming up in about a month! Tell us how you feel about this?

[You]: It was quite a surprise actually! I didn’t realize that it would have done so well in the critic's eyes to get this type of award. I am proud of myself and am excited to see all the other amazing artists and musicians who were nominated as well.

[Interviewer]: Now, your album is all about staying true to yourself, whether that be in love or war. It depicts your own highs and lows while also highlighting beautifully universal things many of us face. Without question, you have always been adamant on staying connected with your fans and keeping a simple rule: no bodyguards.

[Y/n]: Oh, (laughs) yes! That is definitely a new thing, huh?

[Interviewer]: A new thing and a beautiful thing at that, too! Look here!

[captioner notes: interviewer displays many photos of Y/n’s bodyguard, including the most famous one where he’s holding y/n after the failed kidnapped attempt]

[Interviewer]: This is a beautiful — don’t giggle! — a beautiful man, Y/n! What do you have to say for yourself?! Did you finally succumb to keeping untrue to yourself for this beautiful man?! If so, it is perfectly acceptable. By chance, is your contract with him done? I would personally love to have this man on my team.

[Y/n]: (laughing) By all means, take him! (Y/n looks behind her, her bodyguard is there) I’m kidding, I’m kidding! (pauses) No, actually, sorry. Kirishima is an outstanding bodyguard, and I have no intentions of leaving him so soon. Uh, while I did say I had no wish or intentions to have a bodyguard, obviously that was not the best solution, so I hired Kirishima. He is a wonderful addition to my team and still allows me to be authentically me, so it’s still all good.

[Interviewer]: Ah, okay, well, Kirishima-kun, if you ever need a new client, call me. But moving on, yes! Would you like to discuss the series of increasingly concerning attacks?

Kirishima stood in the softly lit hallways of a sauna.

Today was one of the last remaining days you had off, and in celebration of your upcoming award season, you had decided that it was mandatory to visit the hot springs. Everyone on your team — the backup dancers, band, and hair and makeup — were ecstatic to learn that they were being involved with it too.

This high-end resort had accommodated your entire team to receive their own private spring with an all-inclusive menu too.

It was thanks from the owner for the free PR and, of course, because they were some of your biggest fans. So, in thanks, everyone got to enjoy the springs.

Well, everyone but Kirishima, that was.

As of the past month, things between Kirishima and you had improved a lot.

With Kirishima no longer needing to run a marathon daily to find where you were, he would find himself walking at your side. He no longer felt like you hated him. There was respect and actual friendship between the two of you. You joked with him, showed him memes and TikTok, sent him snapchat streaks, and invited him to watch weird shows with you. You even complained to him about the things that annoyed you, namely Kimiko’s attention being stolen by other clients and the rude conversations you would have with the lawyer.

It made Kirishima’s chest warm up knowing that you were friends now.

A stressful month had passed into a friendlier one.

But there were some things that Kirishima would not have expected to… arise.

Namely you growing to be comfortable enough to walk around with nothing but a thin pair of panties and a large shirt. You curling into his side whenever you watched a show together in the bus, the way your lips brushed against his neck when he leaned down to hug you, or the very so not obvious teasing you would do when you changed in front of him. It was as if you were watching his every reaction, enjoying the way that his eyes horribly tore away, or the silent hitch in his throat whenever you speed his heart up.

The biggest surprise arose the night after the failed kidnapping attempt:

You had come to his room, hours after you were supposed to have fallen asleep.

Your eyes were sunken, still a bit tired, and the bruise on your cheek was looking bad. In your arms was a white binder undoubtedly filled with the introductory packet you had received at your initial meeting. Kirishima had opened the door in his sleepy state in nothing but gym shorts. He had barely started dozing off, his mind wouldn’t stop thinking of what could have happened if you hadn’t managed to scream, and so he kept tossing and turning.

Seeing you outside of his room, his head dropped down to look at you properly, and his fist rubbing at his eye fell, “Y/n?”

“Did I wake you?” you asked, your face filled with a shocked, near uncomfortable, and embarrassed expression he doesn’t recall ever seeing on you. “I’m so sorry! I’ll wait until—”

“No,” Kirishima grunts while he shakes his head, his voice raspy and dry from his lack of use. “I’ve been tossing and turning, um, what is it? Do you want to come in?”

“I-If that’s okay?”

Kirishima breathes out a bit, his shoulders relaxing as he smiles softly, “Come on, let’s talk about what’s on your mind.”

The door clicked behind your tentative steps with an echo, and Kirishima watched as you walked into the hotel room with wariness and caution.

“Would you like some tea?” Kirishima offered, picking up a shirt from his dresser and pulling it over his body. The fabric was tight against his chest and shoulders, but felt more appropriate to wear around you.

“No, I’m okay,” you politely decline.

You stood in the center of the room, unsure of where to sit, stand, or lay.

“Go ahead and make the bed,” Kirishima offered, taking the chair by the desk. “I promise it’s still clean.”

You laugh slightly, smile strained but grateful as you sit at the edge of the bed, binder resting on your lap.

“Thanks, I wouldn’t want to sit on a dirty bed,” you joke, but it sounds weak to Kirishima’s ears.

“So, what questions do you have?”

“Hm?”

“You have my portfolio,” he shrugs, leaning forward so that his forearms rest on his knees. “I have a feeling you have some questions.”

“Oh, right,” you whisper, your eyebrows scrunching as you open the binder to the first page, but your eyes are focused on the desk. “What’s the medication for?”

Kirishima turns his head to follow your gaze and comes across the yellow tinted medicine containers.

“My PTSD,” Kirishima answers honestly, his voice soft with emotion, but there was no shame in it. “My service had a difficult end.”

“That’s actually… that’s what I came to talk about,” you rush, your hands slamming the binder closed. “If you don’t want to talk about it, obviously I won’t push it! God, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have—”

“No, it’s okay,” Kirishima interrupted, his smile sad, but he stood up, his body a tower in front of yours as he urged you to sit back down. “It’s okay; I don’t mind talking about it.”

“B-But what if I say something that makes it all worse?”

A pause.

“Then I’ll tell you that it’s too much.”

A nod.

“Are you… are you still experiencing a lot of symptoms?” you ask, your fingers tightening and untightening around the binder.

“Some days are worse than others,” Kirishima admits, his shoulders shrugging. “I don’t experience much anxiety while in crowds anymore; I don’t have many flashbacks to those days anymore, not since February at least. I do still get… I still get night terrors and dream of that day. It’s nowhere near as bad as the first few months after the accident, but it’s still here.”

“What happened?” you asked after a bit, morbidly curious.

The file had all the details that proved Kirishima to be a master of firearms during his entire time on the force. He was a powerful combatist, and his ranking was a clear indicator of the respect and skills he had. Still, it was the quick honorable discharge, the near year-long hospitalization, and the current inability to use a firearm that concerned you.

What had happened?

“I was involved in a grenade explosion on my last day on tour. I was the only one who managed to survive the blast,” Kirishima easily stated, his voice quiet.

“Oh my god, I… holy shit, I’m so sorry.”

“Nah, it’s all good. There were only two others around, and one of them was already dead.”

“Was that um, Major—”

“We called him Crimson Riot, actually,” Kirishima smiled, a chuckle light on his tongue as he leaned back onto the chair, nodding. “Yeah, that was him.”

“Crimson Riot,” you repeat, nodding. “Did you watch him… watch him die?”

Kirishima presses his lips tightly together, and for a moment, you’re unsure if he’s going to cry, answer you, or tell you to leave. There’s a whirlwind of emotions on your optimistic and typically jubilant bodyguard despite your asshole tendencies that make your stomach twist.

“Yes,” Kirishima finally answers, and you nod.

It’s hours into the morning before you finally depart back to your room, the horrors of Kirishima’s past still pounding into your ears. Kirishima wouldn’t notice, and neither would you, but on his shirt and yours, there’s a few drops of tears the both of you shed when you said goodnight.

Sergeant Kirishima Eijirou, while on an active warzone, had accidentally struck and killed his superior officer, his friend, his role model Crimson Riot, thinking that he was nothing more than an enemy target as he sat wounded behind a wall. He died on his lap, and as someone came to help, a grenade landed two meters away before detonating.

“K...Kiri...shima?” Crimson Riot had whispered as he fell to his knees, blood gushing and seeping through his clothes, spilling onto Kirishima’s lap. “I’ll be okay.”

For whatever reason, since that night, Kirishima felt something in him shift. He still took his medication, still had his virtual therapy sessions when he could fit them in, and even had painful night terrors of that moment, but it was becoming less frequent.

He wasn’t made of glass.

There had been more instances after the kidnapping attempt, but unlike the last times, Kirishima was prepared. He had stopped each one, keeping you safe and sound. As of one week ago, he had officially been given a firearm to keep strapped to his thigh at all times now.

It was an unfamiliar weight, one that still twisted his stomach and made him nervous, but he knew the reason why it was needed. Since the gun had been added to his gear, the attacks stopped. He was definitely not ready to be firing it anytime soon, but it had deterred the attackers for the time being.

Kirishima paused when he heard his earpiece ring, and he dropped his phone where he had been watching your interview despite being there himself.

“Talk to me,” Kirishima answered, his finger pressing the accept button.

“Kirishima!” came the distressed voice of Kimiko, “We just got a tip!”

Kirishima stilled, his eyes scanning the empty hallways that stretched throughout the private hot springs.

“I don’t know, but a person with connections with this mastermind said something about how there were two more events he was staging. Today is one of them!”

Kirishima’s eyes widened, his lips parting to answer Kimiko when instead there was a large, loud crash in the water from inside your room. He assumed the worst.

“Y/n!” Kirishima shouted, hands throwing open the sliding door and racing through the storage room, the shower, and exited out into the hot spring.

Steam curled through the wind, the white wisps of steam feeling warm and light against Kirishima’s skin, and Kirishima panicked when he couldn’t see your shadow or figure in the hot springs.

“Where is she?! Is she alright?!” Kimiko panicked, her voice panicking already. “I’ll call the—”

Kirishima turned on his heel, ready to complete a full sweep of the outdoor hot spring when he crashed into something smaller than he was… smaller, softer, and definitely the shape of a woman. Kirishima felt his entire body stiffen when his rough palms felt the undeniable feeling of wet, warm skin.

“Oh my god,” he heard you shriek. “KIRISHIMA!”

“She’s all good, Kimiko,” Kirishima stifled out, his voice tight, his head slamming backward so that his eyes were concentrated on the starry night sky.

“...sorry… uh aha! Another client of mine is calling, goodbye!” Kimiko’s apology was meek and small before she hung up.

Kirishima’s mind was racing a mile a minute, but his body was frozen, unmoving like a rock when he realized that pressing to his stomach was, without a doubt, your breasts.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“What are you doing in here, pervert?!” you splutter, your hands pressing to his stomach as you step away. “Are you a pervert or something?!”

“I, no! No! Of course not! Fuck, shit, I’m so sorry! I’ll go! There was a tip that something was going to happen right now, and there was a crash and—”

“What are you looking at?” you exclaim, squeaky frustration heavy on your tongue. “There’s nothing wrong with the sky! Look me in the eyes? Have you never been to a co-ed hot spring before?!”

“Y-Yes, sorry!” Kirishima apologized, bowing slightly in apology before he peered down. Still, his face bursted in a flame as he watched the way your jaw dropped in disbelief, the dewy wetness of the hot spring clinging to your body. You were, obviously, soaked, and Kirishima bit his tongue as hard as he could to keep the whimper from expelling past his lips when he saw the light gleaming off your breasts. But he watched your face shift between a million emotions, each one appearing too fast for him to read, too fast to register, but he saw the way a single-arm wrap around your breast and the other shoving into his stomach.

“PERVERT!”

“What?!”

“That was a test! This is my private room! I have the right to not be willing to be looked at right now!” you shrieked as Kirishima spun around, allowing you the complete privacy of his gaze.

“You told me to look at you!” he squawked. “Y-You told me, and I listened because of our contract!”

Kirishima could feel his body trembling, his mind reeling in disbelief that he definitely saw you in your entire nakedness, and if the swirling heat in his stomach had anything to say about it, he liked it. Fuck.

There was a soft laugh and the sound of sloshing water as you probably (he wouldn’t know because he wasn’t looking) reentered the spring.

“I know, I was teasing,” you sing, and he can tell the water is gliding around your body. “Turn around, Kiri, let’s talk.”

“Haha, um, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea,” Kirishima admits, although sitting in this steam-filled space with just you sounds so very nice.

“Why not?” you asked, voice sounding a bit upset.

“I’m supposed to be outside, doing my job?”

“Augh, but these private springs are so boring alone,” your voice whines; the water sloshes, and Kirishima winces at the slight throb on his tongue as he continues to look at not your direction. “Turn around, Kiri.”

Not too long ago, you had taken to calling him Kiri, a subtle change, a not unusual nickname people gave him. But just because it was you, his stomach flipped and twisted, and now with the image of your tits in mind, his dick throbbed.

Gulping, Kirishima turned, his gaze bashfully looking down at you before glancing away. You were chest-deep in the hot springs, tendrils of your wet hair sticking to your neck. Was he dead? Maybe dreaming?

No, his dreams were never like this.

“Do you want to come in?” you continued to ask, your body moving towards him in the water until you reached the edge of the pool, arms testing into the black rocks. “You’re the only one not in one, and since I hate being in these alone, I figured you’d like to join.”

Kirishima wanted to join. More than anything, he wanted to take his clothes off and jump into the springs with you, for you, but that would be unprofessional. Entirely and utterly unprofessional.

“Please?” you ask softly, pleadingly, and Kirishima makes the mistake of locking his gaze with yours.

“...fine, but I’ll be on the other side of the spring,” he concedes, his steps near clumsy and oafish as he stumbles backward to the shower and closet.

“Such a gentleman pervert,” you tease, fingers curling as you wave at him until Kirishima finally closes the door behind him.

The empty room is nearly deafening in its silence and the future as Kirishima slumps against the sliding door, excited apprehension rippling through every cell of his skin as a smile spreads across his face. He walks to the storage room, and despite it being a private room, there were two closets. The closet not already occupying your clothes had the things needed for him, and thankfully, it fit.

He undressed slowly, folding his clothes and placing them into the cubbies. Fully naked, he approached the showers, and under the lukewarm showerhead, he cleaned his body of any grime, dirt, and sweat.

Feeling refreshed and clean, Kirishima began his descent to the hot spring, his heart hammering when his fingers grabbed the handle of the door.

“I’m coming in,” he announced, a healthy amount of fear, excitement, and heat drumming through him.

“I’ll keep my virgin eyes away from your body, don’t worry,” came your slow tease, and Kirishima snorted softly.

Kirishima stepped back out to the hot spring.

Just like the first time, the entrance to the spring was warm, the steam seeming thicker than last time, clouding the outdoor room and his sight. You were at the furthest out part of the pool, your back towards them as you worked your fingers through your scalp.

Discarding his slippers at the edge, Kirishima climbed into the pool.

The pool only went as far as his thigh, and he sank into the warm water. It felt wonderful on his body, relaxing his muscles just enough for him to wonder when was the last time he had managed to visit a hot spring.

“I’m in,” Kirishima said, his arms rising up out of the water, resting onto the black stone. “You can turn around now.”

“God, took you long enough,” you tease, your body twisting so that you were facing him again.

To Kirishima’s complete and utter surprise, you stilled, eyes dragging up and down his exposed chest, eyes locked on the series of tattoos all over his right pectoral, and trailed down his right arm. His lips felt dry as your eyes shifted back to his face, to his arm, and back to him. The smile on your face felt weak, but it sent a spiral of dizzying heat through Kirishima when he noticed the hushed lust.

For a while, the two of you remained at opposite ends of the hot spring. Eyes closed, hummed melodies passing through the song. You asked Kirishima about how he felt, if his medication was due for refills, if therapy was okay (he was doing better, a refill was due in two weeks, and therapy was going the same). He asked you about your relationship with Kimiko, with the lawyer, and if you had any real friends within the music industry (Kimiko was like an older cousin to you, the lawyer was a pain to deal with at times, and surprisingly, you did meet some genuine friends). You questioned how his friends were doing, if he had any contact with them despite their busy schedules.

So Kirishima found himself retelling stories of his coworkers turned close friends. Each story he told left both of you with sore stomachs from laughter, and tears at the corner of your eyes from laughing too hard.

“Was the tip story true?” you asked once the quiet overcame and grew old. You shift through the water, getting a bit closer to Kirishima.

Kirishima coughed, suddenly feeling a tad bit shy about his posture, but decided to keep from moving.

“You honestly think I would have barged into here just because I wanted to see you?”

Truthfully, had Kirishima been a man without morals, chivalry, or disrespect for you, he would have. Definitely would have.

“Let a girl dream,” you smile, like a luring siren as you wander closer by just a step. “It would go against everything I know about you, but it’s fun to tease.”

“You’re a bigger brat than I thought you would be,” Kirishima smiles back, trying his best to not show the way goosebumps were bursting against his skin, his eyes locked on yours, trying to not get distracted by the way your wet skin made his mind spin.

“I don’t think I’m a brat,” you counter, getting close enough that he could feel the currents of the water with your movement. But you were far enough that Kirishima felt like pointing out the fact you disregarded his keep apart rule would be a mistake. “How am I a brat?”

The sound of the water rippling through the springs along with the growing noises of the bugs began a melody around the two of you, and all Kirishima could do was stare at the way you blinked your eyes slowly — like a feline stalking a prey.

“A lot of ways, really,” Kirishima breathes, his heart rising up to his throat as he felt your hands gingerly place themselves on his knees.

“Yeah?” you ask, parting through his naked legs, and Kirishima felt his breathing stop when your exposed chest pressed against his. Your lips were ghosting so far from his but tantalizingly close enough that he felt drunk off your sweet breath. “And what are you going to do about it?”

Kirishima sucked in air, his arms resisting movement, and his eyes glanced down at the way your mouth was millimeters from his. His dick was very much interested in what he could do about it, and when your hands grazed up his thigh and onto his chest, Kirishima could feel something rumble in his chest.

He moved to eliminate the space, but there was a crash in the following spring, pushing you away from him long before he could claim your mouth.

“FUCK!” the person in the opposite spring screamed, and Kirishima’s eyes closed in his muted annoyance as you sighed.

His eyes dropped to the water, giving you the privacy to rise out of the water and make your way over to the wall.

“Jenny, are you okay?” you called.

“Give me a warning the next time you try fucking your hot bodyguard in the middle of a private onsen!”

“We weren’t fucking you prude!”

And with that, Kirishima took this as his embarrassed cue to leave.

He stood at the entrance of your private spring for about twenty minutes, entirely uncomfortable with the still hard dick in his pants, rubbing and chaffing against his jeans as he stood there. Eventually, you exited the hot spring, face glowing from the steam and eyes avoiding his gaze as you walked back to your room. Your robe was tight on your body, the hair on the nape of your neck pressed to your skin.

Kirishima sighed as he watched you enter your room, your smile short as you nodded a simple goodnight before letting the door slam shut behind you.

Rubbing his face, Kirishima listened to the voices in his intercom talk about how nothing had happened tonight. An attempted unwelcome visitor tried to get into your room, but they had stopped him. They didn’t fight, but they had run away the moment they caught on to the fact that they weren’t exactly authentic.

Kirishima sighed as he slumped into his room, collapsing on the too small bed as he found himself looking at the ceiling in deep concentration.

What was he going to do now?

That was undeniably sexual, his still semi-hard dick damning evidence to the known fact that he wanted you. By god did he want you. Wanted you beneath him, over him, splitting yourself down onto his cock while you gripped your arms and legs around him, fucking down onto his driving cock.

Kirishima groaned low in his chest, guilt blooming in the back of his throat as his palm rubbed his pulsing cock.

Bad, Kirishima, bad.

“Kirishima-san?” a voice broke through his earpiece, and Kirishima nearly jumped out of his skin. “Are you there?”

“Hi Kimiko,” Kirishima sighed, his dick deflating instantly. “Everything all right?”

“Ah, yes! Sorry about earlier, the false tip and the sudden abandonment!” Kimiko embarrassingly apologized. “My client was ringing for the fourth time, and while I care deeply for y/n, I had to take it!”

“Mm, no worries, Kimiko,” Kirishima smiled politely despite the lack of visual contact. “How can I help you?”

“Ah, yes,” Kimiko asserted, her tone changing from apology to one of formality. “So, about the visitor incident I’m sure you were brought attention to, it seems that the vehicle they came in was with the driver's plate: T082-23. Does that sound familiar?”

“Not currently,” Kirishima sighed, his body stretching into a sitting up position. “Does it to you?”

“No…” Kimiko admitted, and Kirishima could feel the worried frown on her face. “Well, I just wanted to call and give you that information. It was passed along to me, and they mentioned they hadn’t told you. And since I was going to give you the schedule for the upcoming JRA’s award day, I figured I’d let you know!”

“No problem! Let’s go over the schedule now?”

“Yes! I have a client meeting in America right after this! Can you believe it? An American celebrity wants my help?!”

“That sounds amazing, Kimiko!”

“Okay, so this is how the day’s going to go!”

Date: 7/10 Time: 18:00 Location: Tokyo Hotel Room 101

Kirishima watched as an entire team was getting you dressed up.

Two people were doing your hair, three people doing your nails, one person doing your makeup, and five getting one of your three outfits for the night ready.

According to you, as you had strutted around in these outfits nearly two weeks ago were your red carpet and beginning of the award show outfit, your performance outfit, and of course, the after-party outfit. Each one was different, yet when adorned on your body was a perfect replica of who you were.

Most importantly, the two of you had decided to ignore every single instance of tremendous sexual energy and desire that basically leaked from both of your pores. It was for the best to ignore it. There was no point in pursuing it, especially when there was a known hunt for you, and Kirishima was the last line of defense between you and whoever it was.

Whoever it was, pfft.

Kirishima was willing to bet on who it was already.

Since the night of the initial kidnapping that finally closed the gap between you and Kirishima, there was something that the caught criminal said that stuck with him.

Everything you had coming your way, you deserved, he had said in bitter spite.

The interesting thing was that it was the lawyer who had said that, multiple times at that. The lawyer seemed to have everything to fuel him to rage against you. Everything you said or tried, the lawyer was on your heel, barking at you that it was wrong. Kirishima had also seen the contracts between you and the lawyer, and the amount that he was paid to be your attorney was not large at all.

The mass majority of the funds you earned were always funneled towards charities and organizations you trusted to help people in need — in fact, it was almost 80% of your total earnings. A meek, barely larger than 20% was split between you, your lawyer, Kimiko, your music crew, and any other unforeseen expenses. The lawyer was also in a situation where he was not in demand with clients, and if you weren’t heeding his expensive tag, he needed a new contract with you.

A contract he was always demanding to discuss with you that you denied to change.

Attacks tended to happen days after you and the lawyer tumbled, not enough to rouse suspicion if you weren’t looking, but Kirishima was. He just needed damning evidence now.

Something.

Anything.

And for some reason, his gut was screaming at him that something big was going to happen tonight, that tonight was going to be the last attack—the one to end everything.

So he had told everyone about it. Kimiko, the security at the JRA’s, even you. It made him nervous.

It made his hand sweat, the gun strapped to his thigh feeling like hot iron as he stood about as you laughed with your makeup crew.

Kirishima swore, promised, and vowed he would protect you.

He was going to.

And when the gold dress was tied to your body, fitting you beautifully, Kirishima found himself unable to look away like strands of your hair framed your temples.

“What do you think, Kiri? Will I be on the Best Dressed List?” you asked, tearing Kirishima’s attention away from the bodice and skirt of the dress. Your eyes were bright, hopeful, yearning for a positive reaction from him.

“How could you not be?” Kirishima admitted, his grin toothy, and he shifted against the wall.

“You’ll make me blush,” you grin back, eyes batting just a bit as you clasp your hands together. It takes everything in Kirishima to keep from striding across the space between the two of you and kissing you silly. “Are we ready to go?”

Kirishima wet his lips, unwillingly tearing his gaze from you, and whispers into the intercom.

“Ready to move out?”

“We’re all clear.”

Straightening back up, Kirishima smiled at you, his head motioning towards the door.

“Alright, y/n, let’s see you make some history?”

“Damn right I will.”

Kirishima smiled as he exited first, carving the path for you.

Paparazzi were on you immediately, the lights flashing and terribly bright as he helped you through the throngs of them. His hand pressed to your back as they screamed demands, most of which you complied with until Kirishima stated that you would be late. You, unfortunately, couldn’t be late to the awards show.

Ushering you into the limousine, Kirishima follows in shortly after you, scrunching up in his seat as he sits opposite of you. However, your typical light and bright demeanor are gone; instead, you seem almost anxious as you open your handbag.

“You okay there?” Kirishima asks as he realizes you pulled out a distinctly obvious metal flask.

“Awards make me nervous,” you painfully admit; you're weakly smiling as you knock back a shot of the drink. “I hate winning and losing; the alcohol makes me less… of a wreck. Do you want some? I think it’s apple soju, I don’t know, a good luck gift from Kimiko.”

Kirishima grins, his eyes rolling as he decides to decline the drink. “Sorry, love, I think that I need to be completely sober for today.”

You scrunch your nose, obviously displeased, “Lame, who shows up to these awards sober?”

“Me,” Kirishima laughed, his head tilting back and scraping against the ceiling of the limousine.

“Such a prude, sober, pervert,” you sigh, taking yet another swig before putting the flask back into your bag.

“Such a brat.”

Just like every previous instance, your eyes seem to glow in glee at that name, your lips curling into a pleased smirk as you shrug. It's a sight that makes Kirishima’s mouth dry and heart racing. Fuck, he should not be thinking about fucking you in the limousine right now.

But before the heat in the limousine could simmer to one of undeniable boiling, you had arrived.

Kirishima cleared his throat, sending a quick wink your way as he exited the car first. The first stop was for him to join the lineup to guide you through all the different photo and interview sessions. No one wanted pictures of him emerging from the limo after all.

There's a moment where after Kirishima closes the door, your eyes filled with worry and excitement as he winked goodbye, that things changed. He stood up, his eyes already scanning the area for anything suspicious, when he saw the all too familiar van.

T082-23.

His eyes widened, his head looking around for anyone else, but there was no one to help. No one could do anything as the car continued to drive away, disappearing from Kirishima’s line of sight. His heart hammered in his chest, and his hands instinctively went to his thigh. He had his firearm… he had it.

With nothing but a quick report to the head of security via his com, Kirishima pushed on ahead, waiting for your descent down the red carpet.

When you eventually emerged from the limousine, Kirishima found that at this moment, the entire world faded away as a gloved hand assisted you out of the vehicle. You were elegant, stunning, a realistic vibrant portrait within his world of greys. As you took photos for the cameras, he was by your side a few strides away as you talked to reporters.

You really came to life right now.

You were beautiful.

“For all the pain in the world that she is, she’s quite charming from a distance, huh?” a voice spoke to his side, and Kirishima froze. His eyes widened completely when he noticed that standing beside him was none other than the lawyer.

The lawyer was dressed in a nice suit, glasses perched on his nose, and for the first time Kirishima had seen, the scowl was not quite so hard.

He was here.

Every warning bell sounded in Kirishima’s head.

This was the man he was so sure was the reason behind your every attack. A man fueled by insufficient funding, a need for a new contract that would never be approved without your signature.

“What are you doing here?” Kirishima asked, subtlety never being something he was ever good with. “I’ve never seen you anywhere except to argue with Y/n about contracts. This doesn’t seem like the appropriate time to be discussing it.”

“Kimiko wanted me to give her a new contract proposal to give to y/n. However, to be fair, it’s quite easy for anything to come down to an argument with y/n,” he shrugs, and Kirishima watches a cloud of emotions pass between the man’s eyes. “At least between her and me, we’ve never gotten along, but I suppose that’s how it is for any type of family who works together.”

Wait.

“What?! Family member?!”

“Yes, I know it’s strange to believe. I am quite ugly, and she is not, but we’re family.”

Kirishima’s mind was racing now. It didn’t make sense. If he was family, why would he be in such pursuit of potentially murdering you? If you were family, he was sure that you would help out? If he needed a raise like he thought, wouldn’t you have helped?

There was no way you wouldn’t.

Was he wrong?

Who was it?

“Kiri!” your voice broke into his mind and tore him back to reality. You waved at him, then passed a stuck-out tongue to the lawyer in a teasing fashion. “Let’s go in?”

Kirishima looked over at the lawyer who greeted a woman, who was also walking down the red carpet, a celebrity he could name no less, with a warm kiss.

Oh fuck.

He needed to call Kimiko; he was so very wrong.

You had won two awards so far, and at this very moment, Kirishima was being ushered back to his seat in the audience as you were being escorted to the main stage to perform your latest song. You had removed your gold dress for a black, sleek gown. Your lipstick changed to a dark red, and your hands trembled in the white lace gloves you wore.

“Oh, Kiri,” you wheezed almost, your hands shaking as the announcers on stage were announcing the last awards before your performance. “I’m getting nervous. What if I mess up or sing off-key? I’d be the laughing stock!”

Kirishima laughed gently, his hands easily encompassing your waist as he stilled your frantic moves. “Y/l/n y/n, if there is anything I know for sure about you is that you are one hell of a singer and a performer. The awards you’re nominated for tonight speak for themselves! You never fail at your performances, and even if you somehow manage to sing off-key, I’m sure that no one would notice! Your biggest fan in the world won’t notice, at least.”

Not more than seven days ago, when you had cried about the impending nerves of being an artist, Kirishima had come to claim the title of being your biggest fan in the world. It had made you chuckle through your tears before coming near a hysterical laugh as the two of you held each other close.

“You’re a nut, Kirishima Eijirou,” you laugh, hands resting on his lower ribs, but your smile was bright, warm. You paused a bit, fingers pulling at the fabric of his shirt. “I’ll sing just for you then, but I think I should take another swig of that soju.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Could you tell that Takeyama is completely drunk off her ass?”

“...she’s drunk?!”

“Exactly, I’ll be fine,” you breathe, taking a new smaller flask from the purse Kirishima was holding for you and taking the final swig. Your face contorts at the bitter liquid. “Ew, Kimiko really fucked me over with this one. Why is it blue?! Have you ever seen blue apple soju?!”

“No?” Kirishima startled, his eyes looking at the indeed splash of blue liquid tainting a small part of your gloves. “Who gave you that one? What happened with the other flask of yours?”

“Oh, Kimiko sent it along after I lost my other one; it’s her own flask,” you said before the backstage crew whisked you away to begin your set, and without you, Kirishima was sent to the audience.

Kirishima felt trapped as he was ushered into his seat, his eyes scanning the entire audience for something suspicious, a familiar face perhaps. His broad shoulders continued to bump into his neighbors, their disgruntled noises doing nothing to stop his worry.

“And now, Y/n,” came the strong voice of the male announcer, and the light dimmed.

Kirishima watched as the spotlight came down upon you, a golden halo of colors against your darkened gown as the instrumentals began to play in the background. And he saw you take a step forward, the building motifs suddenly silencing when you finally sang the first note.

Despite the panic arising in Kirishima, the unknown of who was behind it all, what was going to happen, he stilled at the unmatched strength and ambiance of your voice.

You sang as you did at every stage, to every audience.

There was a reason why you were considered a legend.

And then, with one last sound, one last melody, and your hand holding your microphone dropped. Your chest heaving, tears falling down your face, and the roar of the audience was silent. You looked through the audience, unable to see, but for some reason, you just knew where Kirishima was.

You smile.

But as the looming sounds begin to fill your ear again, you find that the world is hazy.

You swallow, eyes unfocused as you bowed, hurrying to leave the stage.

Kirishima watched as you took a final stumbling step off the stage, something he felt was going to be written off as you stepped on your dress. But his mind whirled.

The lawyer felt like a setup; the contracts made no sense, the blue soju.

How were they related?

What connected them?

“Oh, fuck,” Kirishima whispered, horrified, and immediately his finger pressed to his earpiece. “Find Y/n! Now!”

Kirishima was racing through the back of the venue, the announcers' voices still ringing through the dirty, bleak hallways. You had just won but was written off as being somewhere backstage; after all, the show must go on.

Voices screamed in his earpiece, each declining to have found you. No one had seen you after you stepped off the stage. No one knew who had taken you.

Kirishima noticed the doors closing at the end of the hallway, and with a dreading sense of doom, Kirishima removed the gun from his harness. And with the devil on his heels, he ran.

Kirishima panted as he looked before him.

You were passed out, draped limp, confused, and woozy against Kimiko’s body, and two men knocked unconscious beside them. To anyone else, it looked as if Kimiko had saved you, some guardian angel within this world, but if Kirishima’s gut meant anything, he knew better.

“Kirishima-san!’ Kimiko squeaked as Kirishima raised his gun, his body tense, unwilling to take a chance on her. “I don’t know what those two were doing! I was saving her, I swear!”

“Don’t do this, Kimiko,” Kirishima whispered, his head shaking. “I figured it out.”

There was a shift in Kimiko’s face at that; the scared unknowing hero melted into one of anger, resentment, one of someone who knew they had been outed.

“So, you figured it out,” she bitterly spoke, her arms that were supporting you from behind revealing to be a firearm of your own. “I didn’t expect you to.”

“I can’t say I figured out your reasoning; honestly, it doesn’t make sense to me, but I felt like it was you,” Kirishima carefully states, his heart roaring at the implied danger of the firearm against your chin. “Don’t do anything stupid, Kimiko.”

Kimiko stares, her lips forming a small o before changing into one of a large, near unattached grin.

“Anything stupid? If anyone is doing anything stupid, it's this selfish prick!” Kimiko spits, her arms tightening around you, making you whimper ever so gently in pain. “She thinks she’s so great, so rich, so smart! Just because she wastes most of her money on stupid shit like charity! Everyone thinks working for her is a dream, but they’re all blind idiots!”

Kirishima’s eyes widen as he notices the glazed, unfocused of your eyes as you shift your attention over to him. Were you listening?

“What’s wrong with the contract?” he asks, a small attempt to diffuse the situation.

“The fact she pays me next to nothing, and yet she works me half to death!”

“You have multiple clients, don’t you?” Kirishima splutters, unsure as to what was wrong. “Why is this one contract so important you wanted to frame her lawyer?!”

Kimiko laughs; it’s pitchy, almost hysterical as she bends over, your body slumping further onto the floor. “That was a lie! All a fucking lie! Do you know that I knew no one when I first started? Y/n is a name everyone wants. I don’t need to do anything to get her things! The world wants her! But the other clients? None of them stayed, none of them wanted me past a month! The salary was okay when she was a snot-nosed brat, but ten years later?! NO! She won’t fucking listen. She never fucking listens to anything but herself! So she has the option to give me the eighty percent, or fucking die here!”

Suddenly the gun in Kirishima’s hand feels like a ton, the skin on the back of his neck crawling and slicking with sweat.

“You know how much those charities mean to her,” Kirishima whispers. “She won’t do it.”

Kimiko trembles for a second, her arm holding the firearm lowering as she looks at the wall, shaking.

“Oh my god… you’re right,” Kimiko realizes, horror and uncertainty flashing across her face. “I guess… she has to die, oh my god, she has to die.”

At that moment, the world slowed down, and Kirishima swore he could see the atoms, the electricity flowing through the space between them. Kimiko’s arm holding the gun raising back up to your temple, her smile detached, horrific yet gleeful.

His body trembled as he doubted himself, his mind unsure if the finger on the trigger was going to be strong enough to fire away. Could he do it?

Was he ready?

Actually ready?

Save her, his past whispered.

Save her, his nightmares screamed.

Save her, his heart yelled.

Kirishima raised his arm, his focus blaring, his past just for a moment, forgotten.

BANG!

“The effects of the rohypnol have already worn out. Thankfully she wasn’t given a whole pill. If she experiences any nausea or throws up, please bring her back, should anything else happen, she’ll be okay.”

The words of the doctor rang in Kirishima’s ears. For tonight, they were going to be discharging you to him. Thankfully, it was all happening in Tokyo, so Kirishima’s apartment was near, and if Bakugou was true to his word, it was clean.

With the help of hospital security, he had managed to get your tuxedo concealed body into a car, and the two of you rode off to his apartment. You’ve been silent the entire time, eyes downcasted as you sit pressed to his side, feeling like a small child compared to him. You knew that he was much larger than you, a near two feet taller, but this felt unmatched.

Kirishima’s jacket was warm around you, it’s sheer largeness another dress on your body, and despite the horrific turn of events, you were feeling warm. You couldn’t remember much of what transpired after stumbling off stage, but you did remember Kirishima bursting through the doors, a look of anger and fear blistering off his person in such a way that made you whimper when you remembered.

You remembered the onsen basically every night, cursing your stupid makeup team for interrupting a night that definitely would have ended with you fucking Kirishima. You cursed yourself for being a coward and not just saying fuck it and fucking him afterward despite the brief awkwardness.

He wanted you, it was clear as day, and you wanted him as well.

Tonight.

“Sorry about how small my apartment is, or if it’s messy, I don’t actually know if my friends have been keeping up with it,” Kirishima apologized, guiding you into the apartment by the small of your back. “You’ll be safe here tonight, and I promise we can get back to your own place tomorrow!”

“Oh, don’t apologize, it’s okay,” you smile, feeling flushed as you cross the entryway to the apartment. His apartment, despite not being home in so long, is clean. The halls aren’t messy, and a hint of lavender is saturated to the air. The dim hallway lights were barely bright enough to cause you to squint as it was dark out. “Thank you for having me tonight, especially after everything.”

At the hospital, you had been given a pair of sweats and a cotton t-shirt. The change in outfit from your event dress was definitely needed, and even though you were sure your makeup was streaked down your face, you felt good hidden in the depths of Kirishima’s jacket.

“Are you hungry?” Kirishima asked, handing over his guest slippers, which you gratefully accepted. “I might have some microwaveable food leftover.”

“Ramen doesn’t sound too bad,” you admit as Kirishima unbuttons the first few buttons on his white dress shirt. You were instantly captivated by the movement, your eyes shifting back to his face when he began to walk off towards the kitchen.

Kirishima talked warmly, keeping the conversation going merrily and bright throughout the entire time in the kitchen. He undoubtedly knew you weren’t entirely okay, and at moments like this, you were entirely grateful for his sweet personality.

To be fair, you knew that you had been quite unfair to Kirishima in the beginning. Looking back at the first entire month of knowing him, you were horrified and impressed that Kirishima didn’t demand to be dropped. You had been selfish, stubborn, a bottom line brat, and he took it day after day. It wasn’t that you disliked him back then; hell, you had been in a near state of delirium when he entered the door during your first meeting because you had no idea such huge men existed to the caliber of his hotness.

But you resisted and might have been harsher than needed.

It was okay now; after all, if he was genuinely bitter about that entire month still, the onsen said otherwise.

It didn’t take long for your stomach to be filled with warm broth, soft boiled eggs, and ramen noodles. Kirishima did, in fact, have ramen, fresh eggs, and some vegetables. In a grand act of preparing you the most sufficient dinner he could, Kirishima presented this under budget ramen and laughed when you said it was terrific.

But it was growing late.

The two of you still sat at his table that was full of a card game, your empty ramen bowls, and cups of water. The clock on the oven read 23:38, and the city lights were slowly dying.

“Are you ready for bed?” Kirishima eventually asked you.

You looked up from your joined hands; your fingers had been playing with his thick and long fingers for some time now. The apartment grew steadily quieter as you studied and attempted to memorize each callous and scar on his hands. They were definitely marked and nicked, the sign of the warrior he once was.

“Depends on the bed,” you tease, lips rising into a small smile as you compare your much tinier hands than his. Your fingertips barely passed the edge of his palm. “What does a big guy like you sleep in? A twin? Tatami mat?”

Kirishima laughed, his hands twisting in yours, wrapping it around so that he raised your hands up to press a kiss to the center of your palms.

“A futon, brat,” Kirishima explained, his smile small but sharp with his humor. “Let’s get you to bed?”

You frown.

“Where will you be sleeping then?”

“My couch is just fine.”

“I’m sure your stuffing in a trash bag had holes in it.”

“That’s okay,” Kirishima laughed, standing up and quickly taking you to your feet as well. “It’s just for a night, I’ll live.”

Your face warmed immediately as he guided you down the hallway of his apartment before finally coming into what was definitely his room.

Kirishima’s scent was faint in this room, cinnamon, wood, and warm spices. It made your eyes flutter as you observed his room from the entryway as he began to set up the room.

His eye for interior decoration was quite… different. You smiled brightly as you glanced around; the diverse and rather boyish decorations around the room warmed your heart. It seemed exactly like what you would think of for Kirishima.

“Well, that’s all!” Kirishima exclaimed, his hands landing on his hips in triumph as he looked around. “The bathroom is the next door over, and I’ll leave a toothbrush out for you. I also left out a new t-shirt of mine if you want to change!”

You nod some more, watching as Kirishima seems unsure of what to do next. He looks around, coughs a bit before nodding.

“Okay, I’ll be leaving—”

“Um, can we talk?” you interrupt, arms wrapping around your body. “I have some things I want to say.”

“Oh, sure!”

“You can sit,” you say, motioning toward the bed. “I have a few things to get off my chest.”

Kirishima pauses for a bit, his eyes looking you over before he eventually nods, and he sits down. The bed slightly creaks under his weight, and you feel your body warm-up at the sound. You want to hear the bed creak more, to rock under the weight of you and him pressed against the sheets as you cried his name.

“What is it?” he asks gently, observing you.

“I just…” you huff, words failing you, your tongue feeling heavy. “I wanted to say thank you for saving me.”

“It was my job to do that,” Kirishima smiled warmly, his arms crossing again.

He was relaxed.

“I mean, I can’t even begin to believe that it was Kimiko who was behind all that, even though we know it was… I know it was,” you trail off, shivering slightly as you remember your ex-managers demented laugh in your ear. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“Nothing would’ve happened to you,” Kirishima spoke with finality. “I promised to myself at the first meeting I was going to protect you, hell the entire world would. You’re not going to be taken down by pathetic people like that, not you.”

“Really?”

“One hundred percent.”

“I feel like I should repay you in some way, though,” you rub the back of your neck, eyes fluttering just the slightest bit flirtatious. Kirishima looked at you with full mooned eyes, his arms unfolding and his palms resting onto the bedspread.

“You repay me plenty already,” came his whispered answer, so quiet, so pure you almost smiled. “You don’t have to do anything.”

Your tongue pushes past your lip, wetting the drying skin as you take a step toward him. The shoulders of the jacket slowly fall from your own shoulders, pooling just above your elbows as you stop before him, hands resting daintily on his broad shoulders.

“And what if I want something?” you ask, finding yourself stemming with energy as his legs part, allowing you closer access to him.

You step in closer and closer until your outer thighs are ghosting against the inner part of his.

“I think it’s in our contract for me to do everything that you request if I remember correctly,” Kirishima whispers, his bright clear red eyes turning a burnt shade: dark and ever consuming.

“And if I want you to finish what you started over at the onsen?” you press, fingers curling against the muscles of his shoulders before locking behind his neck.

His nose was brushing against yours, cold yet burning against your own skin.

“I’ll gladly show you what I wanted to do that night,” he grunts, eyes deadly, and for the first time, his hands held your waist.

You took a second to recover, your skin sparking with the electricity of his touch, and you suppressed a shiver as you opened your eyes.

“Do it,” you cement your fates, “coward.”

And just like that, in a movement so euphoric, Kirishima’s mouth crashed against yours.

His mouth was hot, dangerous against yours -- a live wire sparking with uncontrollable energy and heat as your mouths danced. Hot puffs of air were passed between your mouths, your fingers shaking with an undeniable release of tension and want.

The kiss was sloppy, desperate, so needy with unspoken frantic determination to fuck each other until the other could no longer move.

Kirishima’s hand removed the jacket from your arms, letting the expensive material fall onto the floor with a heavy thud. Despite the lack of warmth the clothing provided, the feeling of Kirishima’s hands rubbing against your bare arms sent your mind spiraling.

“Get on the bed,” Kirishima commands against your mouth. “Let me fuck you.”

The words were nearly embarrassingly desperate, but the tone of his voice spoke of the absolute domination he wished to assert on you. He wanted you in one exact way, and you had a feeling you knew what it was. But if he had been paying attention, Kirishima should already know that getting you to listen was not easy.

“No,” you grin against his mouth.

Kirishima pulls away instantly, his lips red and swollen as he replays your word in his head. He looks frazzled, absolutely delirious already at the simple, passion-filled makeout. As soon as his eyes clear away the fog, your grin drops, and instead, you look at him with fierce determination and defiance.

“No?” he repeats.

“No,” you confirm.

Your chest feels light, your head spinning as the hands on your waist tighten, and his eyes flash dangerously. The tip of his tongue pushes past his lips before quickly disappearing again.

“Of course, you’re a brat in bed too, such a fucking princess,” Kirishima shakes his head, but his mouth curving into a shark-like grin.

Menacing, promising, sending chilling shivers down your spine.

The world spins faster than you can keep up, your mouth opening to shriek as Kirishima easily lifts you up, and has you lying against his lap.

“I’m going to let you in on a little secret, princess,” Kirishima begins, his large fingers hooking into the waistband of the sweats you have on and the panties you’re wearing. “My princess gets rewards for being good. If she can behave properly, she gets to be fucked with dick, her pussy gets to be fucked just the way she pleases.”

You can’t help but stifle a moan that threatens to spill out with his words and the way his hands move down the curve of your ass, exposing the naked skin to him. The waistband of both your panties and sweats stay high up your thighs, and it’s almost embarrassing to know you’re still so clothed despite what’s to come.

“And just what does the Sergeant do to bad girls?” you ask, unable to keep your tongue down, your hips rolling against his lap in undeserved friction.

Unexpectedly, abruptly, a hand comes down harshly onto your bare ass.

The contact is rough, stinging against your ass as you cry out in slight pain.

The hand not currently rubbing a warning circle into your ass twists the hair at the top of your head, lifting your head up so that your ear could near his mouth.

“Bad girls get punishments. They get what I want to give them. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Holy shit,” you whimper, heat flaring between your thighs at the thought of Kirishima doing anything to you regardless of if you were good or bad. You rut your ass back against his hand, longing for a heavier touch, a plea for something more.

“What does the princess want?”

“Nothing,” you bite, and the crashing smack of another spank has you moaning loudly at the stinging pleasure-filled pain.

“You moaning like a whore at a simple spank says otherwise,” Kirishima chuckles darkly, his fingers pinching your stinging ass as your body bucks against him. He spanks you again, again, and again. Each slap is intentful, powerful, wanting to get you to admit what you want, and you cry against your hands each time, your eyes fluttering as the pain feels good.

“Of course, a slut like you would be getting off on this,” Kirishima seems amused, his thick finger pressing to the slit of your cunt, spreading your dripping essence against your cunt. He presses against your entrance with just the tip of his finger, and you shriek in a sound for more, your hips jerking backward to get his finger into you, to fuck you with those thick fingers to do something about the growing desperate heat.

“Kirishima!” you scream, your body sweating and twisting on his lap, desperate to find some way to get him to finger fuck you.

“Ah, there we go,” he sighs in delight as his fingers swirl at your entrance, increasing the teasing and making your mind spin. “Tell me what you want, brat.”

“You!” you wail, two of his fingers carting between your wet, sloppy heated lips. They graze your clit, stimulating you further as you can do nothing but instinctively jerk against his hold, trying to get him to give you the needed pleasure to build up to an orgasm. “I want you to fuck me so good! Please, Sergeant, please, I want you to fuck me until I can’t remember anything but your name.”

“But you haven’t proven to be a good princess,” Kirishima tuts, his hands disappearing from your pussy despite your crying pleas. His hand grabs your ass, though, massaging the abused skin, grasping it tightly.

You moan, embarrassed at the sensation of his massive hand easily cupping your ass cheek, your fingers fisting into the fabric of his pants as you shake your head.

“Are you going to prove that you’re good?” he asks you, his tone like that of a parent chastising a child. “Gonna prove to me that you can be good?”

You shake pathetically against his legs, but you can’t keep yourself from shaking your head. You can’t prove to him that you would be.

“I can’t!” you whimper loudly, your body twisting on his lap to look up at him, your eyes filled with tears and pleading need. Kirishima looked down at you with lust filled eyes and an undeniable need to be followed.

“You can’t?” he repeats, his head tilting, eyes narrowing, and his fingers dug into your ass. “Or you won’t?”

You tremble on top of him, unable to answer because you weren’t ready to hand over the reins just yet. You didn’t want to submit so fast, you wanted to make his own head dizzy with need but the stubbornness to continue punishing you the way he was promising.

“I won’t,” you gasp, eyes fluttering at the way he finally drops your head.

You gasp loudly as you find him shoving you off his lap, and with your panties and sweats sitting so awkwardly high on your legs, you find yourself tumbling off his lap and onto the floor.

“Guess if you don’t want to behave, I’ll treat you like some fucking pussy pocket and dispose of you once I’m done,” Kirishima easily breathes, and you look up at the now standing man as he tears his shirt off.

Your mouth waters, your cunt throbbing at the sight of the rippling muscles and dark lines of his tattoos on his upper body. You watch fascinated, like one does to a masterpiece, as he undresses until he’s in nothing but his socks. And at the sight of his dick, you can feel at once all the blood in your flushed face drop directly into your throbbing cunt.

He was fucking enormous, his girth barely fitting into his hand, and the angry red head spilled its precum against his abs. A black happy trail connecting Kirishima’s abs to his vein throbbing cock.

Holy fuck, he could quickly kill you with that.

Kirishima doesn’t ask any questions as he watches your awkwardly dressed state of a body on the floor. His head is tilted upwards, a small pleased smile on his face as he looks down on you, his hand slowly, leisurely fisting his cock as you can do nothing but stare.

You make some insane noise at the back of your throat at this sight, your thighs trembling with need, and you're pushing off your side, your ass burning, and your balance off as you open your mouth, offering all you could to him.

And thankfully, Kirishima allows it.

He’s much too tall for you to suck him off on your knees, so he sits back down onto the bed, letting you scamper between his legs, mouth open wide like some needy pet.

“Such a good little slut,” Kirishima sighs, sinking his cock into your wet, hot mouth. “Such a fucking cockwhore, all it took was a single glance for you to lose your will.”

You whine against his dick, your jaw tight with the stretch, your tongue lapping so desperately around the cock that was no more than halfway in yet couldn’t go in any further.

“Suck me right, and I’ll reward you by fucking that pretty little pussy of yours,” Kirishima grunts, his fingers pressing into the side of your neck as he ruts his hips up into your mouth, shoving his cock even further into your mouth. “And don’t you dare look away from me while you suck me off.”

It feels like fire.

His cock driving down your throat hurts, the taste of his salty pre-cum slathering all over your tongue and dripping out of your mouth with the saliva you can’t control. His cock hits the back of your throat, and you continue to bob your head, continue to fuck him with your throat as animalistic, praiseworthy noises begin spilling from Kirishima’s mouth.

You whimper at the sight of his head dipping back, and you nearly whine when he shoves the fingers he had gathered your juices on into his mouth. He moans at the contact and with his pleasure with your actions so obvious as you choke against his girth. That was hot, holy fuck, you wanted him to fuck you, please fuck you.

Your eyes close as he begins to fuck faster into your mouth, his delight in hearing you choke around him his driving force. Tears start pouring from your eyes despite your best efforts, your throat and inner thighs burning with lust and need as Kirishima groans, his cock twitching deep in your throat.

Slap!

“Hey!”

Slap!

You gag harshly as your cheeks sting with his heavy slap, your teeth grazing underneath his cock, right against a thick, twisting vein.

“Did I tell you to close your eyes?” Kirishima practically growls, his hands grasping the back of your neck, the other one slapping you across the face yet again. “No. I said… fuck… I said, keep your eyes on me!”

Tears weep down your face, your eyes struggling to keep focus on him as he continued to fuck deep and intensely into your mouth, shoving himself further into you until you could feel his thighs grazing your chin. Oxygen wasn’t flowing anymore; your gags and chokes the only time the burning element could manage to flow through you, but Kirishima doesn’t seem to care. He seems to delight in the way you are, despite it all, are moaning and looking at him in a pleading way for more.

More, you plead.

And he delivers.

Kirishima pulls his still hard, not yet cummed, dick out of your mouth and stands.

You splutter with the sudden intake of oxygen to your lungs, burning you from the inside out as you splutter on the ground.

“W-What’s going on?” you hoarsely stammer, your jaw and throat aching from its prolonged abuse. “E-Ei?”

However, Kirishima seems dead set on getting you naked, and you squeal in flustered excitement as he rips the shirt off of you and his mouth pressing against yours again. His mouth crashes against yours, and you moan into his mouth immediately.

His tongue curls into your mouth and your tongues press and rub against each other. Each passing second growing more desperate, needier, more intense as your clothes are ripped one by one off your body.

“Holy fuck, I’ve wanted you for so long,” Kirishima nearly whines, his mouth trailing down your neck, biting and sucking against every centimeter of skin he passed. “Wanted to fuck you against the wall, in my bed, and now I get to do that.”

“Please, please, fuck me, please,” you beg, your voice bordering a wail as your arms wrap around his neck, letting him lift you up off the floor. Despite you being so much smaller than him that when he held you to him, your cunt wasn’t pressed to his angry leaking cock, you continued to desperately roll your hips against his abs, the friction welcomed and easing the building pressure. It was an action conveying just what you wanted. “I need you in me, Sergeant!”

“Just cuz… holy fuck,” Kirishima breathes ragged, his body twisting around, and you cried when the cold sheets pressed into your back. “Imma fuck you, Imma… god, just fucking watch.”

Your head thrashed back onto the pillow as Kirishima’s teeth sunk into your collarbone, then captured your sensitive nipples, his fingers dancing against your clit and teasing your center.

“Now!” you cry, fingers digging into his shoulder. “Put it in!”

This time, Kirishima didn’t need to be told twice.

His larger body was suddenly pressed entirely against yours, dwarfing you immediately as your arms wrapped around his back as his cock slammed into you. You screamed at the sudden intrusion, your pussy stretched beyond its typical limits by his girth, his size, his power.

Your cunt throbbed around him, your face buried within his pecs as you, despite the searing pain, shove your hips up towards him. Fucking into him, sucking him further into you.

“Holy shit,” Kirishima groans, “you’re amazing.”

“Talk less, fuck me more!” you screech, your body spasming, twitching so hard from the splitting pleasure and the lava pit in your stomach, and Kirishima does that exactly.

His hips begin to meet yours in equaled power, slamming into you so that the bed creaked beneath you. He fucked you until he had to hold a hand on your hip so you could stay there, and you kept a hand on the wall to continue to push yourself down onto his cock.

You screamed with pleasure, cried for more, Kirishima’s shark-like smirk getting bolder, darker, hotter with every slam of his hips until his tattooed right arm shot down. His hand wrapped around your throat, choking you.

“You’re so loud, princess,” Kirishima moans, clearly liking your loud noises, “but you’re going to wake everyone in Tokyo.”

His hand around your throat is enough to have your legs trembling around his waist, your choked and muffled moans and splutters drowning out even more as he pressed a kiss onto you. He kissed you, licking your mouth, and devouring your every word and thought. Your core twisted, tightened, and burned. It throbbed and clenched with it’s impending orgasm, and your body began to tense to the heavens as his cock throbbed deep within you.

“Who saved you?”

“E-Ei did,” you garble.

“Who’s fucking you?”

“E-Ei is!”

“Who’s going to fucking cum when I tell her to?”

“Me! Fuck, me!”

Kirishima laughs, his arms wrapping around your waist, and in one final, fleeting burst of strength, fucks into you with his own power, needs, and desire, and you can only take it. “Cum, princess,” he whispered almost sweetly against the top of your head, and it was all over. Your teeth sink into his chest as you scream, a blinding white light erupting through your vision as you cum around his cock.

Kirishima whimpers, his cock still pushing deep into your cunt, until you can feel the warm spill of his seed in your womb.

He collapses to the side of you, taking you with him so that you were resting on his sweaty chest.

“Holy shit,” Kirishima whispered after a bit, your body already warm and too lethargic to notice the star-like tone to his voice. “That was fucking… holy shit.”

“Does this mean you like me?” you half tease, half wonder.

There’s a pause, a silence, and you wonder if maybe he had fallen asleep.

But he didn’t.

“I’ve been in love with you for some time now, I think,” he admits, his hand beginning to rub small circles into your back.

You find that despite the exhaustion, warmth floods your cheeks.

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I guess we’re going to have to discuss a more… permanent and maybe different contract tomorrow morning, huh?”

Kirishima chuckles, and you find yourself smiling into his chest.

“I think we do.”

#kirishima x reader #kirishima smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha

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sage-nebula · 2 years

Text

I have Volo Brainrot™ at present, and I really want to talk about what makes him such an interesting character to me, but I can’t talk about any of that without talking about the colonialization apologia / propaganda present all throughout Legends Arceus, so you know what, let’s just go ahead and do that now instead of waiting for me to get to it in my review. It would be easier to just link this post in the review anyway, particularly for those who don’t want to read a review that’s something like sixty pages long.

All of that said though, before we get into this: I AM NOT SAYING that this is a bad game or that you can’t enjoy it. I myself have enjoyed it a lot (my review score is going to be 7.5/10), and I really, really, really hope that we get future games in this style. I also enjoy many of the characters in the game, too. But that said, the story is Yikes on many different levels, and I think that’s worth talking about. You can enjoy things while being critical of them—or at least, I can. I love Pokémon with all my heart, and that includes calling out its flaws when it has them, which is what I’m doing now. So please note that I’m not saying you can’t love this game, because I myself do love it! But I am going to talk about the serious issues with the story, and if that’s discussion you don’t want to partake in, then turn away now.

Huge spoiler warning for ALL of Pokémon Legends: Arceus, including and ESPECIALLY the postgame. You’ve been warned.

Okay, so first, let’s talk a little bit about the history of Japan, and their colonization of the northern part of the island (and the surrounding smaller islands) and their oppression of the Ainu people. I’m not even going to remotely begin to pretend to be an expert on this topic. I am not Japanese, nor am I Ainu, and I strongly encourage everyone to seek out sources from people who are of Japanese and especially Ainu descent on this topic if you want to know more. I’m just going to give a very brief overview of the things I’ve learned from my own research, but again, I’m not an expert and I’m not pretending to be, so don’t quote me on this. (Although if you’re quoting a tumblr post in your academic papers . . . oh honey, no.)

So.

The two main groups of people in this little history lesson are the Yamato Japanese and the Ainu. “Yamato Japanese” refers to the people that most people think of today when they hear “Japanese”; these are the East Asian people who were indigenous to the main part of the island of Japan, particularly in the middle and the southern regions. Ainu, meanwhile, refers to an ethnically diverse group of people who were indigenous to the northern part of the island (known today as Hokkaido), as well as several of the smaller islands in the periphery of the main island. The Ainu people were established there before the Yamato Japanese decided to move north to further the Empire of Japan, and in fact there are many historical records which show the Empire of Japan interacting with the Ainu people to establish things like trades, treaties, etc. The Ainu had their own culture, their own language, their own religion. That was their land, they were their own sovereign nation.

And then . . . they weren’t.

Again, I’m going to give only a very brief overview, especially since I’m not an expert in the subject. But essentially, the Japanese Empire decided that it wanted to conquer what would later become known as Hokkaido, as well as the surrounding peripheral islands. If you’ve watched the meme-spawning video “History of Japan”, you will remember this as the part where the narrator goes, “. . . and they conquered the north finally, got that squared away.” Well, as can be expected, there was more to it than that.

In the late 1700s - early 1800s, the Empire of Japan took its first steps toward conquering Hokkaido and forcibly assimilating / oppressing the Ainu people by conquering the southern part of Hokkaido. The Ainu still controlled the northernmost part of their territory and they and other indigenous groups (because I believe there were others too) still controlled the periphery islands—but the Japanese shogunate took full control over the southern part of the territory. And while this would be bad enough on its own, the Empire did not stop there. Because they viewed the Ainu as “beneath” them, as “barbarous”, they engaged in practices such as abducting Ainu women and raping / forcibly marrying them to Japanese men (to “better assimilate” them), and arresting Ainu men to force them to work in indentured servitude for years, sometimes a decade or more. These were only a few of the practices enacted to weaken the Ainu people, stamp out their culture, and drop their population.

And it gets worse.

In the mid- to late-1800s, the Empire of Japan fully annexed Hokkaido and the surrounding smaller islands. In 1899 specifically, the Japanese government passed laws which labeled the Ainu people as “former aborigines” and granted them Japanese citizenship status . . . which might sound good on paper until you realize that it stripped them of their rights as indigenous people (something that was not fixed until 2019). In many cases, Ainu people had their land forcibly taken from them and given to Yamato Japanese settlers, and it was made illegal for them to practice their religious and cultural customs, speak their language, and hunt and gather, so that they would instead assimilate into Japanese culture, language, and customs. And even though the Ainu had their status as indigenous people restored in 2019, not only is it far too late and the damage has been done (the Ainu language is nearly extinct), but a year later in 2020 the former prime minister said that Japan is the only country to have “. . . lasted for as long as 2,000 years with one language, one ethnic group, one dynasty.” So even after the Ainu had their status as an indigenous group restored . . . it was still being ignored by the government, even a year later. Which isn’t surprising, but it is depressing considering how much the Ainu population has dwindled due to the colonization and imperialism, how many of their practices have been lost, how their language is only spoken by a handful of native speakers now, etc.

So, what does all of this have to do with Pokémon?

As anyone who has played the games or is a fan of Pokémon knows, the region of Sinnoh is the PokéWorld version of Hokkaido. And as such, Hisui—which is the version of Sinnoh that we get to explore in Legends Arceus—is a version of ancient Hokkaido . . . or, as it was known before it was annexed, Ezo. In other words, not only did Game Freak base Sinnoh on Hokkaido, but when they decided to make a game about its ancient past, they included the fact that Hokkaido wasn’t always named Hokkaido by making it so that Sinnoh wasn’t always named Sinnoh. So if you’re wondering why the region was called Hisui instead of Sinnoh in Legends . . . that’s why.

Anyway, knowing that Sinnoh = PokéHokkaido obviously raised a lot of questions with regards to how Legends—a game which takes place back in the feudal era—would handle the question of indigenous people. Obviously, Japan has a very brutal history of imperialism and colonization with regards to Hokkaido and the Ainu people (and other places as well such as Korea, but this is specifically about Hokkaido / the Ainu). But at the same time, Pokémon is a game series for children which, while it has included heavy topics such as genocide and child abuse in the past, still tends to make its stories easily digestible and not too heavy for the children involved. Also, this is a Japanese game made by a Japanese company, and even now in the year of our Pokélord 2022 the treatment of the Ainu by the Japanese government and, I’d wager, many Japanese media companies isn’t exceptional. (Although there are many Japanese people with Ainu ancestry due to the aforementioned abductions and rapes, as well as Ainu people encouraging the interracial marriages in hopes that their offspring wouldn’t be as discriminated against if they were part Japanese . . . it’s a whole thing that, again, I’m not an expert on and am not really qualified to discuss.) So, would they just avoid it altogether by having everyone in the game be indigenous to the region?

Unfortunately . . . no.

To get this out of the way before anything else: The issue is not that we have an isekai protagonist from the future / our world / wherever. (I think they’re meant to be from the future of the PokéWorld, but I think it’s left open enough so that you can have them be from wherever you want.) It’s standard PokéFair for the protagonist to be exceptionally special, and if they are from future!Sinnoh, one could headcanon that they’re descended from the actual indigenous peoples of Hisui (so the Diamond Clan, Pearl Clan, or Ginkgo Group), so it’s not quite the pro-colonization propaganda it might otherwise be. While of course it would have been preferable to have our protagonist just straight up be from one of the clans (or maybe from like, a third clan formed by people who left those two clans because they were tired of the fighting and wanted a Third Option or something similar), the isekai aspect of the story isn’t the part I take issue with. Instead, the face of the colonization apologia in Legends Arceus is this face right here:

Words cannot describe how much I hate this insecure, ignorant little man.

This man is Kamado, the commander of Galaxy Team and de facto leader of Jubilife Village, a village that is full of no one but colonizers from outside the Hisui region. Kamado, and those who came with him, decided to come to Hisui to start a new life “free of war and strife,” and Kamado in particular aims to do that no matter what the cost is—including if that cost is, as he says later in the story, exterminating pokémon that he feels pose a threat. The game tries to handwave this by giving him a sad backstory about how pokémon razed his home village back in whatever region he came from (I would assume Kanto personally), but not only are we not told whether those pokémon were ever provoked or not, but it still doesn’t excuse Kamado’s shitty behavior toward the pokémon in the Hisui region who are minding their own business, or, most importantly, the indigenous peoples of Hisui whom he looks down upon, which the narrative never once takes him to task for doing so.

Let’s look at the Diamond and Pearl Clans for a moment, shall we?

The Diamond and Pearl Clans are, I believe, meant to be the PokéWorld version of the Ainu. While they lack the characteristic physical features of the Ainu people from back then (e.g. the women don’t have mouth tattoos, the men don’t have beards), their cultural practices revolving around their close relationships with pokémon and the Noble Pokémon that they worship and serve speaks very much to the religious practices that the Ainu practiced before the Empire of Japan made it illegal for them to do so. Specifically, the Ainu were largely animists; they believed that everything had a spirit or soul, but in particular several of the gods they worshiped took animal forms, and as a result those animals held high reverence among the Ainu people. So for example, Kim-un-kamuy was known as the “god of mountains” and was often seen as a bear; Rep-un-kamuy was the “god of the sea”, and was sometimes depicted as an orca.

How does this relate back to Pokémon?

Well, as stated, not only do the Diamond and Pearl clans live among pokémon, but if you look at the Noble Pokémon which hold the highest importance in their clan, you’ll see that many of them hearken back to animals that held high importance in the Ainu religious traditions. Ursaluna is the most obvious, being a giant bear. But Basculegion is a giant salmon, and salmon were a staple in the Ainu diet (not to mention that they had a god of the sea / fishing / marine life as well). Deer were another animal which were very important to Ainu survival, and Wyrdeer is another Noble Pokémon. Obviously some like Electrode and Kleavor don’t have direct analogues, but there are still enough that do that make it so that this had to be intentional. Particularly considering how the Diamond and Pearl Clans are very close to pokémon whereas the colonizers are not, and the difference in the Ainu people’s animist beliefs versus the Yamato Japanese’s Shinto or Buddhist beliefs, and the fact that the Clans were, you know, already there whereas the Galaxy Team came from other regions . . . yes, I think it’s safe to say that the Diamond and Pearl clans are stand-ins for the Ainu people. (The Ginkgo Guild might be as well, though it’s harder to say because we don’t exactly know where they came from to my knowledge, or if Volo was even actually one of them for real. But more on that later on.)

Now, to be fair, most of the colonizers in Jubilife don’t seem to have any issues with the Diamond and Pearl Clans. And yes, they are colonizers and not immigrants because if they were immigrants, they would have made an attempt to live with the Diamond and Pearl Clans. It’s not as if they would have been turned away; Ingo fell out of the sky and the Pearl Clan not only took him in, but made him a Warden. Instead, the Galaxy Team has chosen to create a village of their own, with their own culture and inventions, and Kamado is pushing his own values and beliefs onto the Clans. They have created a colony, they are colonizing, they are colonizers. There’s no getting around it.

But as I said, most of them don’t seem to have an issue with the Clans. Arezu is able to become the hairdresser’s apprentice with no problem. Rei / Akari is willing to help Mai when she requests assistance at the start of the game. For the most part, the colonizers don’t seem to look down on the Clans . . . but Kamado absolutely does, and the worst part is that the game rewards him for his ignorant behavior.

First, let’s take a look at their history pre-game.

The Diamond and Pearl Clans have been at odds with each other for a long time, because they each believe that the other Clan is worshiping a false “almighty Sinnoh,” the god they believe created their world and rules over all of time (Diamond) or space (Pearl). Obviously, they’re both a little bit wrong in that they’re actually worshiping Dialga and Palkia respectively and just don’t know it, but whatever, that’s not the point. The point is, these are deeply held and highly valued religious beliefs for these Clans, beliefs that guide their people, beliefs that inform how they interact with pokémon and the world around them. And how does Kamado respond to these beliefs?

He refers to it with sarcastic scare-quotes.

Now, to be entirely fair to him, he does refer to almighty Sinnoh without the sarcastic scare-quotes in the previous line. But even so, referring to almighty Sinnoh with scare-quotes even once shows a disparaging attitude toward the beliefs of the Clans (especially since the context of this line is Kamado questioning Warden Melli’s assertion that the frenzy state was a gift from almighty Sinnoh to strengthen the nobles of the Clans). While it makes sense that Kamado wouldn’t have the same religious beliefs as the Clans given that he comes from a different region altogether, there’s a difference between not holding the same religious beliefs as another group, and disparaging their beliefs. Kamado isn’t showing respect here, and the fact that no one in the Clans was present for this conversation doesn’t matter. It’s clear that he doesn’t think very highly of their beliefs or practices, and while that makes sense considering how close they are with pokémon and how much Kamado himself dislikes / fears pokémon, it still doesn’t make it okay. And, more importantly, given the context of the way the Yamato Japanese colonizers treated the Ainu people and their beliefs (and forbade them from practicing those beliefs after they fully conquered the territory), it leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

But that said, it does get worse than this.

At multiple points in the game, Adaman and Irida (the leaders of the Diamond and Pearl Clans respectively) meet in Kamado’s office to discuss the ongoing situation surrounding the frenzied Noble pokémon. And during one of these meetings, we get the following:

I’m going to be honest: When I got to this part in my playthrough, I had to actually turn my Switch off for a bit and set it down because I was so appalled.

Read the dialogue again, and take note of who is saying each line. Kamado blatantly states that he and the other Jubilife colonizers came to Hisui to create a home for themselves (again, to colonize the land, not to actually join the peoples who already lived there and respect their way of life). Adaman then says that Kamado “[put in work] to get [the Diamond and Pearl Clans] to treat one another as equals and keep [them] from fighting.”

I don’t know about the rest of you, but to me this reeks of “the civilized colonizer had to stop the barbarians from killing each other over petty squabbles.” And considering how the Yamato Japanese viewed the Ainu as uncivilized, as lesser, as beneath them? To say this isn’t a good look is an understatement. Particularly considering the fact that both Clans were just a little bit wrong about who they were worshiping (since neither was worshiping Arceus, the actual Creator of All), and the fact that Adaman and Irida both at different points in the endgame acknowledge this, this all amounts to, “the poor ignorant savages just didn’t know any better and needed the civilized wise colonizers to come in and set them straight.” It’s nasty. And considering how the Ainu people are still suffering to this day because of the imperialism and colonization (which the Japanese government tried to sweep under the rug by calling it a “redistributing of resources and unused land” or something like that), it makes it even more vile. (In other words, a story that is pro-colonization and pro-imperialism would be bad enough, but considering the historical context? Yikes.)

But still, it still gets worse! Because later on in the story, Kamado—due to his fear of the protagonist’s bond with their pokémon and therefore their overall collective strength—decides to banish the protagonist from the village. The protagonist then goes to the Diamond and Pearl Clans for help, both of whom say they cannot openly assist the protagonist because it would piss off Kamado. And I have to say, I found that to be appalling. Kamado is a colonizer. Kamado has no right to do anything in this land. He certainly shouldn’t have the right to raise an army to go hunt down a pokémon atop Mount Coronet, regardless of whether that pokémon is on the other side of a rift or not. Yet both Adaman and Irida—and, as a result, their wardens and the rest of the clan—kowtow to what he wants. Oh sure, they try to argue with him on your behalf when you’re being exiled, but ultimately they’re afraid of angering him, of going against his word. Kamado’s word is law. And considering he’s a colonizer and they’re the indigenous people, the fact that they’re shown to so easily bend to his will . . . while on the one hand it explains how Hisui changes to Sinnoh (and in the postgame, Kamado is the one who suggests this name change, which makes sense given that he’s the driving force of imperialism in this land and it was the Japanese government who changed the name from Ezo to Hokkaido, but still, gross), it’s still infuriating. Neither Adaman nor Irida, nor anyone else native to Hisui, should have to listen to Kamado’s colonizing ass. But they do, because this game’s story is full to the brim of colonization propaganda and imperialist apologia. There’s no way to get around it, that’s what the bulk of the story is unfortunately about. (And it really didn’t have to be this way, colonizers didn’t have to play a part even if the protagonist was isekai’d in from another time period / world, as I already explained. That they chose to do this is just . . . yikes.)

With all of that said . . . let’s talk about Volo, shall we?

For most of the game, Volo is a friendly merchant from the Ginkgo Guild who is very interested in the myths and legends of Hisui, much like his eventual descendant (reincarnation??) Cynthia will be. In the postgame, we learn that he is also completely off his shits and wants to, for reasons that are never explained to us beyond “I was sad once”, completely destroy and remake the world using Arceus’ power, similar to Cyrus. Now, while the bad writing surrounding his motivation is frustrating (because again, we never really learn what his true motivation is for wanting to remake the world; at least with Cyrus we knew it was because he thought humans sucked for having emotions, but with Volo we never get anything beyond “I was sad once and was like ‘why am I in a world that’s mean to me’" and that’s just not a concrete motivation), I feel like we can extrapolate what could have been his motivation if this game was better written and not so dedicated to being colonization apologia.

During one of his postgame rants, Volo says this:

Volo is one of Hisui’s indigenous people, despite not belonging to either the Diamond or the Pearl Clans.

Now, I mentioned earlier that I think that the Ginkgo Guild are also indigenous to Hisui, although I don’t think this is ever explicitly stated. There is a location in the Cobalt Coastlands that bears the Ginkgo name, and Volo says that he has the blood of the “ancient Sinnoh people,” indicating that he (or at least his heritage) is indigenous to this land, even if the other indigenous peoples don’t refer to themselves as the Sinnoh people (although they do refer to their god as “almighty Sinnoh” for the majority of the game, so). While it’s unclear if Volo is actually a member of the Ginkgo Guild, or if he’s just pretending because being a merchant is an easy way to gather information, he still plays the part well enough that he fools pretty much everyone into believing that he’s one of them, with Cogita even questioning him when he talks about the Guild as if he’s not one of their members (which is why it’s unclear whether he’s one of them or not). Regardless of whether the Ginkgo Guild is indigenous, though, I think it’s pretty clear that Volo himself still is; he says he has the blood of the ancient Sinnoh people in his veins, he has those strong ties to this land and (he feels) to his god, to Arceus. Volo being indigenous is undeniable.

So with that in mind . . . aside from “I was sad once and thought that sucked so I WANT TO DESTROY THE ENTIRE WORLD,” I think that a more believable motivation for Volo would be, “I want to remake the world so the colonizers never came here,” or something similar.

Think about it: It’s mentioned time and time and time again throughout the game that the Galaxy Team’s influence on Hisui is changing the culture of the continent at a rapid pace. Whenever you visit her outside of mandated story visits, Cogita mentions that with the arrival of Galaxy Team, the human voices in the region are growing louder. Both the Diamond and Pearl Clans are kowtowing to Kamado. They’re starting to move toward assimilating into Jubilife Culture, what with Arezu moving into the village, their open approval of pokéballs, etc. And while Volo does use pokéballs as well (and gives you the hint to smack pokémon in the back with them for better captures), we also know that he does still have a good relationship with his own pokémon given that he’s able to evolve his Togepi all the way, which requires high friendship. More importantly though, Volo is interested in history and culture that was lost; maybe it isn’t just wanting to change the fact that colonizers ever came to take Hisui, but also wanting to bring back the cultural traditions that have already been lost to time, to make it so that the ancient Sinnoh people aren’t so ancient anymore. Maybe Volo’s motivations aren’t that he was sad once, but that he mourns for a culture, for a people who have been lost, and wants to bring that culture to life again, to reshape the world so that it was never lost in the first place. And while it’s not my place to say because I am not a member of any indigenous culture that has been stampeded over by imperialism, I feel that if an indigenous person saw a chance to rewrite history so that their culture wasn’t railroaded over by imperialism . . . they would be tempted to take that chance. And I think that it would be wrong to call them a villain for doing so.

Ultimately, I feel that this bit here is the final nail in the coffin for the imperialism apologia in this game’s story. Because Kamado, the very face of colonizing imperialism, is “redeemed” and seen as a “good guy” after he bows to the player for beating him in battle, claiming that he now sees the error of his ways and will listen to them (when really all he’s doing is admitting that he really cannot beat the player in battle, saying “might makes right,” and ultimately just being an ignorant, colonizing coward). But Volo, someone who in his final rant is stated to be one of the indigenous people of the land, is not redeemed, and instead leaves declaring that one day he will conquer Arceus and use it to reshape the world. The colonizer who should have been the villain is seen as a Good Guy After All, while the indigenous person who wanted to remake the world for vague reasons (because perhaps they didn’t want to even question the colonization happening?) is seen as the definite villain who teamed up with PokéSatan in an attempt to conquer PokéGod.

And I just have to say, I think that’s a really bad look.

#pokemon #pokemon legends: arceus #pla spoilers #colonization--//--cw #imperialism--//--cw #again I am far and away not an expert on Japanese or Ainu history so #apologies if I got anything wrong in there #i'm just going based on what i've read #also fuck Kamado me and all my homies hate Kamado #but yeah in my hc Volo is more an anti-villain bc like . . . i get it dude #ur off ur shits but i would be too in ur shoes #but that's just hc because Game Freak can't write lol

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